Chapter Text
For the last 10 years, Reaping day has always been the same.
Achlys gets asked to bless someone's family member, or a certain Covey girl inquires on where he gets his honey from for her vocals. There has never been a difference in the schedule... until the 10th annual reaping.
He was 6 when the war ended, and 7 when the first Games were announced. No one was able to tell him what it meant until he was about 12, which was the age they started at for drawing names.
The only people who surrounded Achlys with optimism was the Covey, and he accepted it with an open heart. He was closest with that songbird, Lucy Gray.
Oh, that girl. Always a dreamer and performer, never once could he magine her in an arena like that.
But... when Achlys heard her name get called at the Reaping, he knew it was no coincidence. Mayfair, the mayors daughter, looked way too gleeful about the moment for it to be.
"Wait! Waitwaitwait-! I-... I volunteer!" He yelled out, breaking from the line of Covey members and waving his hand in the air.
Achlys knew there had to be some sort of rule against there being two boys being pulled from the hat, but he already spoke. He couldn't back out now. Lucy Gray didn't deserve a fate like death in the Games, she was meant to perform.
It was the least Achlys could do for the girl, especially when she always came to him for his honey.
The peacekeepers nearby pushed him forward, ushering him to the front. As he passed Lucy Gray, he dug into the pockets of his loose garments.
"Here, here... good luck for your Covey." It was a pouch that contained orange peels, rosemary, clove, and mint, tied shut with a green string. "You keep singing, you hear? Don't them silence your songs."
A peacekeeper grabbed Achlys's arm and pulled him forward, disabling Lucy Gray from thanking him or denying the gift. The mayor stood at the top of the steps, brows scrunched so tightly no sunlight made it to his eyes.
Jessup Diggs was on the opposite side of the stage, watching just like everyone else as the peacekeepers dropped Achlys at the top of the steps and let him get to his feet.
He balanced himself, glaring at the mayor before looking out at the crowd of previously possible tributes.
The young kids stared back at him, their gazes gleaming with shock and amaze. No one had ever volunteered in District 12, why would they? Who would ever sacrifice themselves for a death sentence so vile.
His eyes found Lucy Gray's again. She nodded at him, in both thanks and encouragement.
He had only listened to certain Covey songs in their entirety, but you knew just which one Lucy Gray would have chosen to sing after being reaped for the Hunger Games. The stubborn girl she is, she would have shoved it in their face.
Now Achlys had to make up for the silence of her voice, and fill the void with his own.
His hand found the microphone and picked it up from it's stand. Achlys caught the way the mayor tried silently telling the peacekeepers to take him away, but the Capitol had other ideas. They let him be.
"You can't take my past," He heard one of those Covey girls starts singing, his eyes averting from Lucy Gray and to the other Covey.
"You can't take my history," His grip on the microphone tightened, a tight breath entering and leaving your chest, as they continued.
"You could take my pa, but his name's a mystery..."
The lump in his throat slowly vanished as he lifted the microphone to his mouth. This was what Lucy Gray would have done. This is what Achlys has to do for her.
"Nothing you can take from me... was ever worth keepin'," His eyes flicked to find Lucy Gray and she merely nodded once again, holding the small pouch he handed her to her chest tightly.
"Nothing you can take, was ever worth keepin'..." Achlys continued, his voice coming softly before he started to regain his confidence again.
"Can't my charm," His voice carried loudly now. "Can't take my humor,"
Achlys stepped closer to the edge of the steps, one of the peacekeepers below tempted to turn and react before he stopped.
So they were threatened by something as simple as music. How fascinating.
"You could take my wealth, 'cause it's just a rumor!"
The mayor beside Achlys scuffled before he stepped closer to a peacekeeper beside him.
"Would you get him out of here!" He demanded the man, to which he got the response of a shaking head.
"Capitol wants to keep rolling. Can't interfere with something the Capitol wants, sir."
The mayor would have gladly thrown a hissy fit over his daughter's cheated reap of Lucy Gray had the Capitol not been rolling.
"Nothing you can take, was ever worth keepin'," Achlys briefly caught a glance of the red-faced Mayfair in the crowd, her hands crumpling her freshly ironed dress.
"You can't take my sass, you can't take my talkin'," The Covey was aware that this wasn't a real line to the song, it was evident in the way Maude Ivory, Lucy Gray's cousin, mumbled to another Covey girl beside her.
Achlys inhaled a deep breath and mustered up what emotion he had left buried from his deepest cracks, peeling them clean to let the Capitol hear what they weren't recording for.
"You can kiss my ass!!" He yelled into the microphone, shoving it aside once his mouth had shut. His chest heaved slightly, mostly from the anxiety of it all.
The sound of the crowd both laughing and gasping filled the sounds around him before it turned to chatter, then back to silence.
The peacekeepers beside Jessup stepped forward as Achlys scooped some chili flakes from his pocket and sprinkled them onto the stage ground.
They dragged the boy back until he finally looked away from the crowd and went along willingly, Jessup following behind as he made his way to the train.
Achlys was not looking forward to the two days in the cattle car, but at least he knew that Lucy Gray wouldn't have to deal with the horrors in the arena. Neither would any one of the other Covey, for now at least.
The only cracks in the clouds that let sunshine break through was his ability to at least stay somewhat optimistic, even when those clouds seemed just a little too grey for summer.