The Spear and the Club (A Marvel and Glimmer love Story)

THANK YOU SO MUCH TO MichaelJacksonChik4eva! Her stories inspired me! Same to Linde (Bibliophile) , her stories really helped too! I hope you guys like my story!

And now, after I'm more of a developed writer... ;)

I'd like to give a shout-out to Acacia7, WinForMeCato, and safeandsound101! They really helped me out! :D

Chapter 1

The Beginning

by: Bastille
"Give it back!" the little 5 year old girl with the blonde braids shouted.

"Try and get it!" yelled the boy with the curly brown hair.

The girl crossed her arms and pouted her lips. Her eyes welled up with tears but she didn't let them fall. Then all of a sudden, she turned around and bolted, calling back, "I'm telling my mom!"

The boy snickered with his friends. Then smiled and yelled, "Fine, we'll give it back!"

The girl stopped dead in her tracks and turned around. She hesitantly took a step forward, then came charging at them at full speed. She stopped right in front of the boy and held out her hands for the object.

"Why is it so important to you? It's just a stupid box," stated the boy with the brown hair before handing it off to her.

"It's not just a stupid box!" she screamed, "it's really important, President Snow gave it to me!"

The boy glanced at his friends; something from President Snow was not meant to be taken lightly. "What's in it?" he asked curiously.

"I don't know." she said.

The boys crowded around her as she slowly opened the lid. A single white rose rested on a thick bed of velvet. And under the rose, a note.

"Hey, what's that?" the boy then pointed to something glinting under the velvet. When he pulled it out, he realized it was a green gem tied to a beautiful silver chain. The boy plucked out the note from beneath the rose.

"Hey, that's mine!" the girl yelled angrily, tears threatening to fall down her delicate face.

"Relax, I'm just going to read it," he told her.

"Okay." she said quietly.

And three words came put of his mouth as he read the note. "I'm very sorry."

# # #

Marvel's P.O.V.

Living in District 1, I got everything I wanted. I was never really told no. The only thing I didn't get to choose was who got reaped, or picked, to participate in the Hunger Games each year. I never thought that I would get reaped, so I didn't pay much attention to the cruel battle-to-the-death that children not too far from my own age were forced to participate in. At the Reapings, I would keep quiet like everyone else, and when the Hunger Games were going on, I just whispered quietly to my friends while others watched.

One day, when I was 13, one of my friends was reaped to be in the Hunger Games. This left me devastated and it dawned on me that the Hunger Games thing was more serious than I thought, and that one day, the unlucky person might be me. My friend's name was in there only once, but he was reaped, so why wouldn't I? The day of the Hunger Games was a heart-wrenching and unforgettable day because my friend, Ethan, was mercilessly slaughtered.

I spent days thinking about his death and how he hadn't even made it past the Bloodbath, or the very initial part of the Hunger Games where the tribute could gather supplies from the Cornucopia, or the main structure that held all of the weapons, food, etc. I couldn't forget how cruelly he died- murdered by a girl from his own district. And she seemed to enjoy it too.

The boy on the screen panted, sending a shower of mud flying as his feet kicked to get out and away from the Cornucopia. He had been accepted by the Careers, but only because he was from the capital district, which usually produced tough, strong tributes like his district partner. He, on the other hand, hadn't been a volunteer, which meant he hadn't been bred a cold-blooded killer. That already marked him off as weaker than the other Careers.

The boy on the screen remembered standing on the plate, and how much tension had been in the air. Once it was time to run, some were wise and immediately sprinted away from the Cornucopia. Others, were not. The boy saw the other Careers watching him, each of them having slain at least one tribute. He realized with growing apprehension that he would have to kill someone to ensure his own survival.

The boy on the screen scanned his surroundings, looking for an easy kill. He finally saw the perfect opportunity - a small boy, maybe thirteen. The boy realized too late that he had been found and was now a target. Clumsily, he tried to scramble away but it was far too late and the Career was on top of him.

He screamed and pleaded, much to the amusement of all the Careers except for the one pinning him down. Hastily, the predator mumbled an apology to his prey and slit his throat so his death would be quick and painless.

He got off the small boy, wiping away a few flecks of blood and trying to put on his most triumphant grin while feeling dead and numb inside. But, his heart sank when he realized he hadn't won over the toughest of them- his own district partner.

"-weak kill-" he heard. "-not useful-"

The boy's face filled every screen in all of the districts, making it impossible for anyone to forget that face full of absolute horror. He suddenly turned and ran, mud splattering everywhere. His district partner smirked, her eyes glinting. She charged after him, a sword in her hand.

"Ethan," she practically sang. "I'm going to kill you!"

He was not amused. He ran on pure terror and adrenaline, afraid that he will would die at the hands of a former ally.

Almost every pair of eyes in Panem was glued to the screen, a single ray of hope in each of them as they saw that he had almost made it to a small band of trees.

Three steps.

Everyone counted.

Two steps.

Nervous tension.

Final step.

And dead silence.

One boy in the crowd had his eyes closed, as if that would make the experience any less painful. Of course he didn't see the girl's hand move, he didn't see the blade fly through the air, he didn't see the weapon lodge itself into the back of his dear friend, but nothing could have shielded him from the sickening sound of the blade burying itself into flesh. Or the small gasp and exhale of air that were his friend's final breaths.

And when the boy opened his eyes, reluctantly, he would never forget the image of his friend sliding to a stop on his knees, blood dripping from his mouth and trailing down his back, his eyes open with fear and glazed over so they were permanently that way, and the most heart-wrenching thing of all - his friend's forehead pressed against the tree that could have given him protection. He had been so close, yet so far from freedom.

The girl yanked the weapon from the lifeless form of Ethan, making him collapse in a heap of limbs. But his hand remained touching the bark of the tree, reminding the nation of his goal of freedom and survival, and how a fourteen-year-old boy was promised a fighting chance and never made it.

My eyes snapped open from the flashback. Our small group of friends didn't really train like the Careers should, we didn't plan on volunteering, normally the people who did train volunteered for the people that were reaped. I guess no one wanted to volunteer for Ethan, and so he was brutally murdered.

The day after the Hunger Games, I went to Gloss, a previous victor of the Games and asked him to help me train. He gave me a smile and said yes. That day we started training vigorously, building my muscles, working on finding the right weapon for me, and getting into shape. The day after that, Gloss took me outside. And that's where I met the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.

Glimmer's P.O.V.

That day at training, there was something special, and I knew it. And sure enough, Cashmere introduced me to a new boy named Marvel. He was just a typical boy, average height, curly brown hair, brown eyes. I smiled and tried to be friendly. I think he was just nervous with this whole training thing so I didn't want to scare him. But, I remembered him very well from a childhood memory.

Marvel's P.O.V.

Glimmer was beautiful. The way the sun glinted off of her shining blonde hair, the way her emerald eyes shone like jewels, the way her delicate face reminded people of a rose. And suddenly I was swept back into a memory of us together as 5-year-olds, reading a note sent from President Snow, not realizing what it meant.

I quickly walked up to Glimmer after a long, hard day of work.

"I'm really sorry about that one day when we were kids." I said.

"It's okay, we were 5, you didn't know." She said understandingly. The day after the note, we had heard that Glimmer's mom had died in an accident. That was the reason Glimmer had burst out crying after I read the note and then grabbed the necklace and clutched it so hard her knuckles turned white.

"Maybe we can be friends and training partners since that was our childhood. No more teasing too!" I said.

"Well, maybe a little teasing." Glimmer said with a smile. I smiled back.

"Then, tomorrow, can we tell Cashmere and Gloss that we want to work together?" I asked. And Glimmer's reply made me the happiest person alive, because she said, "Definitely."

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