Hunger Games: Fandom Style

Prepare to Die

"Look at that guy," Merlin whispered as Arthur laid down the sword he'd been destroying the instructor with.
"What guy?" Arthur's head turned automatically toward the voice. He still wasn't used to the invisibility spell Marlin had cast in himself. For that matter, he still wasn't used to Merlin having magic.
"Shh. The one I'm pointing at."
Arthur resisted the urge to smack him. "Oh, sorry, just let me put on my special glasses that let me see through invisibility spells - "
"Oh. Right." Merlin sounded embarrassed. "The guy from 7. Will Treaty. He and Barton are having a bit of a contest."
Arthur glanced over at the archery station. Clint was hitting bullseye after bullseye. Will was . . . not.
"Not very impressive," he said, looking back towards the sword rack. "You need to get out more."
"You're looking at it wrong. Go that way."
Arthur sighed and edged the way he'd been pushed. Then he raised his eyebrows, impressed. Barton had made bullseyes.
Will had spelled out the word "Hi!", complete with exclamation mark. His quiver was empty. Barton still had two arrows left to shoot.
The two shook hands and laughed over something Will had said. Their district partners came over to congratulate them. Natasha was examining the shooting with a professional eye. The blond from 7 was laughing and dragging Will over to the next station. She was carrying a sling she must have dug up from somewhere.
"He's good. They both are."
"I saw Will over at the survival booths earlier. He aced the edible plants test, and I think those snares he made could catch something a lot bigger than rabbits. We're going to have to be careful of him."
"'We?' You're not the one going into the arena."
"Don't be stupid, of course I am. How else am I supposed to protect you?"
"What makes you think I need protecting?" he hissed.
"Have you looked at your opponents recently?"
Arthur looked around the room and reluctantly had to admit this wasn't the usual group of lightweights. Juliet Butler from One was wrestling with an instructor twice her size - and winning. The dwarf was dueling with five of holographic opponents and proving just how effective it was to cut off your attackers knees with an axe. Jack Sparrow was moving through the obstacle course like a monkey and had breath to spare for a running commentary. His instincts started screaming at him if he even looked at the tributes from eight, and Natasha from ten was just as deadly as her partner. Even twelve . . . Morgana was busy chatting up the Holmes kid, and she wouldn't bother with anyone she didn't think was important.
"Yeah, I've looked," he said quietly. What I don't understand is why you'd bother. Why was Merlin here? Why had he cared so much that he'd left the safety of the district to actually follow him into the arena? There weren't even words for something like that. And the expression he got sometimes . . . Hans had been flirting with the girl from his district despite her stated lack of interest and clear discomfort. Arthur had done the chivalrous thing and intervened. Hans had responded with a perfectly friendly remark that could, nonetheless, be construed as a threat if viewed in a certain light. Arthur had shrugged it off.
Merlin had muttered something in the moment that immediately preceded Hans falling headlong down some stairs. When they got to the privacy of the penthouse, Merlin had said, in perfect seriousness, that it was a shame Hans had survived it, but that he could make sure he didn't the next time.
At times, he was the same annoyingly irreplaceable idiot he'd always been. But ever since the Reaping, Arthur had started glimpsing a frightening intensity as well.
Merlin's thoughts had apparently been elsewhere. "It's not just the physical stuff. I can handle that. It's the atmosphere. There's so much suppressed magic in here I'm practically choking on it. Can't you feel it?"
"No - " Arthur froze. Merlin flickered into view for half a second before disappearing again. "Merlin!" He scanned the room frantically. No one seemed to have noticed.
"Sorry," Merlin panted. "This is harder than it looks."
"Ha, ha. Get out of here before someone sees you!"
"Right."
Arthur waited a few seconds. "Merlin?"
No answer. He was gone. Good. Now what?
Morgana didn't seem to need any help. He might as well talk to Will. He could be a useful ally.
He walked over to where Will was throwing knives at practice dummies. He was just as skilled here as he'd been with the archery.
"Impressive. Have you tried out the swords yet?"
Will grinned at him and swiped the hair out of his eyes. "Not really my area. Horace would have loved them though."
"Horace?"
"A friend from back home. He tried to volunteer for me."
Arthur frowned. "I didn't think you could turn a volunteer down."
Will's grin broadened. "You can't. So I knocked him out with my strikers before he could get all the words out. The Peacekeepers confiscated them, unfortunately."
Arthur leaned against the table. "Not for your competition."
"Oh, they're strictly nonlethal," Will assured him. "You were pretty impressive yourself by the way. It was good of you to volunteer for that kid. He wouldn't have lasted a minute in the arena."
You might be surprised. Arthur glanced at Morgana. "I had other reasons as well."
Will looked at her and shook his head. "That must be terrible for your parents to have both of you in here."
Arthur didn't feel like telling him that his mother was dead. "Yours can't be too happy either."
Will shrugged and hurled another knife at the dummy. "They're both dead. The Peacekeepers killed them about a month after I was born. Halt - my mentor - pretty much raised me. He's definitely not happy though." He looked at the blond girl practicing her sling work. "I'm worried, to be honest. Cassandra and I are sharing him as mentor, and if he starts playing favorites, she could be in trouble."
"More for you then, isn't it?" Arthur asked, wanting to study his reaction.
Will's eyes tightened. "She's like a sister to me. She and Horace are all but engaged, and she's Alyss's best friend. I don't want . . ." His nest knife slammed into the dummy with extra force. "I hate this. I hate it."
"I know what you mean," Arthur said quietly. He was getting to like this Will. But what was the point of making a friend you'd have to kill? He changed the subject. "Who's Alyss?"
Some of the tension eased out of Will. "My fiancé if I can survive this. I figure if I can survive this, I can have the courage to pop the question. You got a girl?"
Arthur thought of Guinevere. "If I survive this, I might even have the courage to ask her on a date."
"Do that," Will said. "Whoever survives this needs to be happy. Everyone who gets out of here and spends the rest of their life at the bottom of the bottle is wasting the lives that bought them their chance. Refusing to live is an insult to the memory of those who didn't get the chance to."He grinned. "If you have to spend the rest of your life looking at the bottom of something, make it a coffee mug. That's what Halt does."
Arthur laughed and clapped him on the back before walking away. The words stuck with him though. So did that grin. Looking around the room at all the fighting, laughing, vibrantly living people, he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Soon, 23 of them would be dead.
He agreed with Will completely. I hate this. Twenty-three lives was a debt every victor was handed, but it was on the Capital's tab.
And they were getting past due on their payment.

Merlin slipped through the hallways, desperately holding on to his spell. He was never going to be able to hold it for the entirety of the Games. He needed a new plan.
You told me it was destiny all those years ago, Kilgharrah. You didn't tell me destiny would be so hard. Or maybe he had and Merlin hadn't listened. He hadn't listened very well back then. He had assumed that he knew better. That he could do what needed doing and still be "nice".
He knew better know. If Arthur was to succeed this time, Merlin was going to have to be prepared to do whatever it took, to dirty his hands so Arthur wouldn't have to.
But first, he needed to find a way to get into the Games.
He could replace a tribute and take their form he supposed, but he'd run into the same problem. The strain of holding up a form other than your own was immense. To hold it, sleeping and waking, on your reflection and even your very shadow for a month was all but impossible.
He heard footsteps from down the hall. He froze. Someone was coming.
They grew closer, but he didn't see anyone. He frowned and muttered a few words.
Dust flew up from the floor and attached itself to what appeared to be absolutely nothing. Or, rather, something invisible.
"Come," he whispered. Nothing happened. Time to try more mundane means.
He snatched at his hand and grabbed at the shape as it passed by. His fingers caught shimmery silver fabric. He grabbed it and ran before the startled figure beneath it could react.
"Accio!" they yelled. Nothing happened. Merlin ducked into the elevator and frantically pushed up. The man was hurtling towards him. He was invisible, but, at the moment, the cloak wasn't.
The doors swung shut. The elevator started going up. Merlin gave a sigh of relief and examined his prize.
It was a simple cloak, although that in and of itself brought back memories. Curious, he wrapped it around himself before allowing his spell to slip. He glanced in the mirror at the back of the elevator.
No reflection glanced back.
Merlin let out a delighted laugh. Destiny had come through after all.

Sirius crashed his fist into the elevator door. What had just happened?
He had lost James' cloak. Lost Harry's edge.
Or, rather, someone had stolen it from him. How had they known? And, more importantly, how could he steal it back?
Someone tapped his shoulder. "Excuse me, Mr. Black. I was asked to deliver this message to you."
Sirius turned. "What is it?" he growled.
The man smiled pleasantly at him. The elevator door dinged open and he gestured for Sirius to get inside. "In private, if you please."
Sirius got in. The door shut. "The message?"
The man was still smiling pleasantly. "Crucio," he said conversationally.
Sirius dimly realized that the elevator seemed to have stopped between levels, and then there was nothing but the pain.