Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games nor any of the characters or places.

A/N: This is the first time in a very long time that I have written any sort of fanfiction, let alone a Hunger Games inspired one. I have continued to read my favorites throughout the years and I recently came across a ficathon entitled Wicked Winter on livejournal. Deathmallow had listed a prompt for every District and I knew that I needed to try my hand at these. I'm hoping to have a story for each of the Districts mainly focused on Effie with a cameo from some of my favorite Hunger Games characters (especially Haymitch). The stories will wavier between T and M rated.

I hope you enjoy the fic, I do not have a beta so there are probably numerous errors. Forgive me. Reviews are most welcome as is some inspiration of who/what would you like to see Effie doing. :o)

Warnings: Implied Prostitution, Non-Con, Role playing and possible drugging.

The Capitol: Fantasy.

There was always one benefit to our tributes dying every year, with no new victors District Twelve was pushed into the background, a blip on the Capitol's radar. No one wanted to spend money on losers and that was perfectly fine with me. After all, out of all the horrid, retched things I was obligated to preform this particular "requirement" was the one thing I had never seen coming, nobody warns you about it and frankly nobody seems to care. There was of course the occasional citizens, the ones who couldn't afford one of the more popular Districts or the ones that were just overly curious about the new escort and the drunken Quarter Quell victor.

Now everything is different. Two victors, both from Twelve, and suddenly no one can get enough of Katniss, Peeta, or anyone who remotely interacts with them. Thankfully, Katniss and Peeta are both safely tucked away back at Victor's Village and even Haymitch should be passed out somewhere in the vicinity of his bed. That leaves me to quench the Capitol's thirst for all things District Twelve. I had been dreading this day since the train left carrying the three victors back towards their home but, when an Avox handed me a simple package with strict instructions to be dressed and ready by nine sharp, I swallowed my fear. After all I am Effie Trinket, a professional, I will not let these horrors crack the visage that I so meticulously constructed.

Then I opened the package and barely made it to the bathroom before I lost the contents of my stomach. They truly cannot expect me to wear that. Out of all the twisted fantasies that some Capitol man or woman could have come up with it had to be this. I stared at the seemingly innocent costume absentmindedly stroking the cotton fabric, it felt nothing like the satins and silks I usually wear but I guess they wanted this to be as authentic as possible. A quick buzz from my alarm rattles me back to reality, a half an hour to get ready before I have to be in front of the Training Center.

I slowly remove the pins holding my wig tight to my scalp, guessing that my "normal" look wouldn't suffice for this particular role. The make up comes next a swirl of blues, greens, and a ghostly white being replaced by natural beiges and a swish of blush. My fingers work almost independently from my mind as it forces my dirty blonde locks into a simple braid that hangs loosely down my back. The simple V neck T-shirt clings tightly across my chest as does the hooded jacket. Olive green trousers, complete with several burn holes, also stretch tightly across my full hips and has already begun to cut off the circulation to my lower exterminates. I pull on the clunky hiking boots and glance down into the box praying I have completed my ensemble. But, of course the piece to resistance gleams from the bottom of the discarded wrappings. A replica Mockingjay pin glistens in the soft light of my penthouse room, the Capitol had started to mass produce the symbol once Katniss had reached the top eight. By the time she had left the arena alive, no citizen would be caught dead without one in some form. My fingers shake as I pull the small pin from the box and rush out of the room.

I still have no idea who bought me. All I have been able to surmise is he is indeed a man and a very rich one at that, if the massive entrance hall has any indication. An Avox hands me a champagne flute filled with a glittery purple liquid and motions haphazardly towards a room near the end of the entryway. The sitting room reeks of indulgence and grandeur, over stuffed chairs and gold gilded vases filled with blood-red roses that smell sickly sweet adorn the area. I subconsciously take a sip of the drink in my hand as I let my fingertips graze the solid mahogany side table, a slight smile tugging at my lips. A package wrapped similarly to the one I had received earlier sits amongst the decorative pillows of the sofa. Long and slender, I don't need to read the card to know it's another "gift" for me and with a churn of my stomach I can guess what lies beneath the cardboard and twine.

"Ms. Trinket."

"Sir" I reply, slowly spinning on my heel and almost lose my balance. Whether it was from the chunky boots or whatever is causing the tart taste in my drink, I'll never really know. I try to keep my unfocused eyes trained on his but it becomes rather difficult with each passing second and my hand clutches tightly to the table.

"How are you with accents?" He questions. His movements are slick towards me and within a matter of moments he is practically nose to nose with me. One slimy hand is skirting my waist at the edge of my black T-shirt while the other fingers my braid tugging it forward over my shoulder. His gentle movements last for another blink before he roughly yanks my hair and jerks my head towards the plush sofa. "I would suggest you try your hardest, Ms Trinket. The alternative is not much better."

I whimper and attempt a slight nod, his hot breath against my neck sends my skin crawling and I can feel his pouted lips transform into a sneer. With another sharp yank and a slight push backwards, his unwavering body heat leaves me while he physically heads back towards the entrance hall.

"Follow me." He snaps from the hall, his heavy footfalls starting to mark his path up the wide staircase. "Oh and don't forget the bow."