Her heart froze in her chest.
Was it really her who had been called?
Of course it was.
Evelyn could feel the eyes from all sides around her as they backed awkwardly away. While struggling to allow air back into her system, she forced herself to step forward.
Having a mind in twenty thousand places at once isn't exactly what one would want in public. Evelyn's head felt like a ton of bricks as the horrors flashed through her mind in recollection:
Killing.
Stabbing.
Savage.
Betrayal.
Death.
Every previous game they had heard of was the same- "oh, that one from twelve is a fighter," "did you see that bloodbath, how quickly he murdered them?"
She and Rick had done nothing more than form a look of disgust on their faces as they walked away, sharing some glances when the man who told the story was out of sight.
"Murder?" she had said in shock once the two had gotten home that day. Rick then held her close, and kissed her forehead lightly. "Don't think about it; everything will be alright,"
Evelyn hadn't realized she was already at the base of the wooden stage. The lady with strange green hair beckoned her up with an excitement even she knew was disappointment.
Who would want the puny little British girl?
Everything was so quiet, Evelyn's footsteps on the stairs sounded like cannon shots.
"Well, don't be shy!" the lady said, right into the microphone. Evelyn felt ready enough to strangle her on the spot.
She took her place beside her, the lady with the green hair, and faced the crowd with a look of dignity.
If there was anything her father had taught her, it was to never show fear. Let them know you as strong, confident. Make them fear you.
Of course, a look of intimidation was hard to pull off with a face like one she possessed. A face that, in her country, would be offering a crumpet or two; not asking for war.
After taking another glance at the wrinkled paper in her hands, the lady looked over at Evelyn. "You're one of the transfers from Europe, aren't you?" she said with astonishment.
Her words were a stab at her side. She knew something like this was coming.
The words were stuck in her throat, mouth dry. So she just gave a nod, along with a smile.
"Ladies and gentlemen, for those who don't know, President Snow has taken the liberty to save as many starving souls from the wastelands over seas, ensuring them all safe homes here in Panem!"
There were many surprised murmurings in the crowd.
"Isn't it great here, Evelyn, away from the disaster back at your homeland?"
Her smile grew as her laughter grew louder inside of her. The ridiculousness!
"Oh yes, it is quite wonderful here." she said with a pleasant ring in her voice.
The crowd's murmuring of approval acclimatized in volume. If she weren't just sentenced to get death, Evelyn might just have glanced over towards Rick, to see his laugh. But the lady with the green hair adjusted her face and straightened her back, squelching the last of the mirth she had created seconds ago- though a lie.
"And now, for the boys," she said with hurry. Evelyn noted the slight bags under the lady's eyes on her skin stretched face.
Her hand once again dipped into the large glass bowl, this one though, adjacent from the last. Evelyn could hear her slightly humming to herself- a slight whinge, perhaps. How odd were these citizens from the Capitol?
"Ah- here we are!" she exclaimed, thrusting her hand from out of the sea of names. Evelyn then felt a pang of worry rewash over her. She hadn't thought of a partner, or, for that matter, hardly anything about the whole ordeal at all. Would they become friends? Allies? Would she even like her fellow tribute? Know him, even?
"Richard O'Connell!"
Of course she did.
Fury was building up inside of him- flames sharp as needles as they pierced through his soul. How could it be, that the girl he loved more than anything else in the world- everything else, could be taken away from him so hastily? Again! A girl surviving the mummy attack of the century was one thing, to have her parents both dead another.
But stripping her of everything she ever had? Sending her to a foreign city? Taking away everything she had ever known, just for fulfilling their people's empty lust for battle and death?
He had watched her walk up to that stage, every step a ripping of his heart- and sanity. Oh, how he wanted to stop her. But, Rick reminded himself, this isn't war. Not yet, anyways.
But when his name was called over that damn microphone? That's when the conformation was sealed: These games were rigged. Fear didn't have a single chance to seize his body as he walked down the long aisle to his doom. Anger was flaming- his hands clenched into a ball, mouth inaudibly spitting more curse words than anyone else in the district knew.
He guessed the weird lady with seaweed for hair wasn't top great with body language, because her sunny smile was still bright as hell.
Evelyn swore under her breath when she saw him walk up to the stage. When his name was called, her scholar mind refused to believe it was really him that was called.
But she saw him, her Rick, her knight in shining armor, advancing towards her? She thought she would burst into tears.
Evelyn knew life wasn't fair; she had realized this when the telegraph came explaining both her parents untimely deaths. She had always tried, too, to be the best at what she could do. Of course, having an Egyptologist's ambition did lead her to a cursed city and some rather unruly visitors.
He was at the base of the stage when Evelyn dared to look again, his face in the sudden realization hers was in just minutes before. After a reluctant pull up by the green- haired lady, he was up right beside her- so close his breath was on her neck. And for a second- a memorizing, breathtaking moment- his hand brushed hers, making her body tingle inside. But then the warmth was gone, and she returned into darkness.
"Well, here we are, folks!" she beamed. "Our two tributes from district six!"
Thank Godness. Evelyn could breathe again. Nothing was said about the two being both from the presidents gracious doings. There was an uproar in the crowd, though Evy was sure it was mostly for Rick. Strong, handsome, what wasn't there for the people to love?
"Now, now you two," the lady rung, "common, shake hands!" She backed back a step.
Evelyn could see him in full view now. His hair was caught in a bath of sunlight. A smile was hidden in his powerful stance. She knew it was for her. Hands- so rough and powerful, were never desired more. Evy brought her hand forward; it was grasped firmly, like a proper business owner to an oncoming seller. These were not the hands she had held, the hands she had- and still loved.
Though only for a moment, her eyes met with his. Time seemed to stop entirely. His piercing blue eyes, deep blue pools, melting into hers...
"Right this way, you two." the lady whispered to the both of them. Evelyn's eyes closed, and were snapped back into reality.
Yes, only twenty thousand people were currently watching.
Turning around, Rick got a faint whiff of her hair. It was faint, but it was soft and earthy. Rick thought he could sense some of the flower perfume she had used often back home.
They were led into a dark and narrow chamber that, in his mind, seemed to never end. He tried to find Evelyn's hand, but much to his disgrace, the lady with the stupid green hair was in the way. Great.
"We're running a bit off schedule," she spoke through the blankness between them. "So the goodbyes will have to be quick."
When Evelyn heard the word goodbye, only one name to mind.
And it wasn't going to be easy.
Chaps were only as good as their wallets permitted them to be. That was Jonathan's motto his whole life.
Yeah, he had put up with blokes with mouths bigger than Big Ben itself; people that just happened to get their lives handed to them on a silver plate. He often thought about how lucky his life was: indeed, his parents had died, but never were they very close to him. The old man was always on some sort of archeological dig, sending nothing less than a piece of paper explaining his whereabouts. Whenever he was to be home, it was always the same thing. Why can't you get a job, Jonathan? Why are you such an embarrassment, Jonathan? Why can't you be more like your sister, Jonathan?
The word 'sister' continued to flash in front of his eyes. Yes, it was true he didn't have a real family. But he had a sister. And that was more than enough for him.
The man might not have five cents in his pocket (Evy began restricting his bank account ages ago) but he had well enough what he needed.
Though, a beer or two would be nice once in a while.
As many of his lady suitors had been told, Jonathan was a hero. He did save his baby sister from the hands of an evil deranged mummy. Evelyn had always been right at his side, too, when trouble found its way to their doorstep, or a good time at the local pub left the poor chap with nothing but a throbbing head. She would try her best to scold him, tell him how much of an awful brother he was. But her face would always break into a warm smile, and he would sleep that night, knowing everything would be alright, even if he kept messing up. As much as he'd try to deny it, Jonathan Carnahan loved his sister. Out of all the girls that came and went through his bedroom doors, he knew Evy would be the girl that would be always there for him.
Evelyn wasn't good with goodbyes. They were usually the subtle, be back by dinner goodbyes, though she wasn't too good with those either. It was always that reoccurring question: what if there was no return? It happened once before, and now, it was happening again.
"Oh Gosh Evy," Jonathan muttered before running into her arms. He could barely stand looking at her; eyes full of confusion, like a small, frightened rabbit, left frazzled and shaken for hungry wolves to devour. He didn't even care what O'Connell was thinking beside him (he was never the sentimental type) because now, all that mattered was this last moment, for who knew how long, with is only sister.
"Please," Jonathan heard her say, "please try and take of yourself."
Oh, how he tried to stop the tears from coming.
"C-common, Evy. I'll figure something out... I'll talk to the Williams about staying with them for a while- just" he let himself take another famous grin "just until you come back. We'll find a nice place on the mantel for that victory crown."
Jonathan heard her crying subside as she pulled away from his grasp to look him at the eye. "I- can't do it, Jonathan..." she said, looking more than desperate. He then grabbed her hand tight as he fought for words.
"Listen to me. You're the strongest girl I know. You remember mum's old ring she wore all the time?" he waited for a nod before continuing. "You're the only person in this whole world who knows how to properly kick a mummy's ass. You know, me out there, I didn't stand a chance!"
Jonathan fished in his pocket, and uprooted a small silver ring- something he surprisingly kept with him all these years. He then grabbed Evy's right hand, and slid the ring on her third finger.
"You're a lot braver than you think, old mum,"
Evelyn opened her mouth in surprise, though no sound came. She wiped some of her tears away before turning to glance towards Rick, who, had been silently staring out the window for quite a while. He got up, awkwardly eyeing the man that had caused him much fury in the past. His expression was clouded- half just plain said, don't you dare hug me. Nevertheless, the other half said boy, am I gonna miss you Jon. Even if you're a real pain in the ass.
Rick put a firm hand on his shoulder- which hurt- and locked his cool blue eyes with his. "Look Jonathan, I know you're not the best at hunting, or anything for that matter, but listen. Do whatever it takes to trade for food. I don't care what you sell in the house- as long as it's not important- just keep yourself alive, ok? I'd hate to see something happen to ya."
Jonathan was taken aback. Was this really the mighty Rick O'Connell speaking to him?
"Oh yeah, and try not to drink too much. It's really not that healthy."
The doors opened. He was being pulled, pushed, in every direction. Jonathan heard her voice- but all he saw was a sea of white uniforms. The door slammed, and she was gone.