If asked, Haymitch would have denied taking pleasure in anything related to The Games or their resulting visits to the Capitol. The whole charade cut into his "alone time".
This morning, however, something akin to comfort and joy seeped into his brain. The coffee and sweet rolls had been set up on the sideboard right next to last night's liquor assortment. One-stop shopping.
He did his level best to remain grouchy, and he stubbornly refused be grateful that the kids would enjoy their breakfast, here in the penthouse today, without the assumption that it would be one of their last. The Victory Tour was almost over. Soon, life would go back to... well, what passed for normal.
He arranged his plate and doctored up his coffee. The only thing that interfered with the morning's "not" pleasures was a little bundle of sticks tied together with a ribbon. It was suspended from a light fixture above the sideboard, some sort of decoration, and it was located such that every time he leaned over to procure a roll or a spoon, it brushed against his forehead. He swatted it away only to have it swing back and bang him on the side of his head.
"Fer cryin' out loud! What the…?!"
Haymitch stalked back to his room with his breakfast instead of taking a seat at the table. He would have more than enough company tonight at the Victor's Ball.
It wasn't until later that afternoon that Twelve's first victor appeared in the shared living space of the Training Center penthouse. There would be photographs and interviews before the ball, interviews and photographs during the ball, and, of course, photographs and interviews after the ball. All of this meant that he was to button up into a blue silk tailcoat over a stiff club collar and a string tie. He was fussing with his cuffs as he walked down the hall towards the living room.
"WAaaAhh!" Haymitch hollered as he stumbled backwards slapping at his cheeks. He was startled by the sensation that something was crawling across his face. Regaining his composure, he fixed his gaze on his assailant. Over the threshold, between the hallway and the living room, hung a second little bundle of twigs tied up with a red satin bow. He stared at it as it swung back and forth like a hypnotic charm.
His hand shot out, and he yanked the little sprig off the thread from which it hung. Instantly, he felt something sticky ooze between his fingers. Opening his hand, he examined his catch. From the green twigs sprouted a few crumpled rounded leaves interspersed with clusters of milky white berries; in his haste he had burst several open.
Haymitch knit his brow as he stared. He knew this plant. Oak-choker. It grew in clumps around the limbs of oak trees in certain hollows back home, choking them off and stealing their nourishment. The berries were poisonous.
The hair on the victor's neck stood on end. Poisonous berries. Snow must be sending Katniss more warning messages. Haymitch hurried into the dining room and tugged on the first bundle until the little adhesive pad fixing it to the light fixture came loose. He spun around scanning the room for more. The kids shouldn't see them, it would only upset them, and there couldn't be any more mistakes brought on by "the mockingjay's" emotionally defiant outbursts. He knew well enough how she'd be punished. It wasn't fair to the mother or sister.
Haymitch directed his steps to the living room to continue his search. He'd get rid of the miserable little twigs and ask Katniss later, when she was calm, what she thought they meant. He breezed past Effie, who was busy rearranging a large clam-shell-looking contraption on the back of her dress. He'd spotted another twig bundle hanging over the love-seat.
"Oh, there you are!" Effie warbled. "That blue silk coat does look handsome… ...Haymitch! What are you doing!?"
"Hush! Did you see any more of these?" Haymitch grumbled, furtively showing the escort his handfuls of twigs, including the one he had just pulled down from over the loveseat.
"I just hung those up!" Effie spat indignantly.
Haymitch froze. He stared at her incredulously.
"You put these up?"
"Yes, Haymitch. They're festive."
Haymitch's face twisted with disgust. He growled, "Festive? Festive?! What is this, some kind of sick joke? Hang up a few poisoned berries to remind the poor brat how she escaped a demented nightmare? Celebrate how cleverly she's bringing down the wrath of Snow onto her family?! That's rich. You know, for a while there I thought you might care about them, and then you go and throw this in…"
"Haymitch! Are you mad? It's Yuletide! That's mistletoe! Katniss and Peeta are engaged now; it goes perfectly with the legend."
They stared at each other for a minute.
Haymitch shook the plant cuttings in front of Effie's face. "This is oak-choker. It's a parasitic weed. It feeds off of healthy trees. Hungry little kids poison themselves with it when nobody's around to teach 'em any better. Now you're gonna tell me they decorate with it in this loony-bin town?"
"Well, I don't know who 'they' might be, but I decorate with it at Yuletide," replied Effie. "The legend goes back hundreds of years. It's ancient, from across the Eastern Ocean. I'm surprised you don't know the story."
"Spare me, " Haymitch mumbled, rolling his eyes and turning to resume his search. As he marched around the penthouse hunting for more stick bundles, Effie, ignoring his sarcastic request, chattered at his heels.
"You see, there was a goddess whose son, a god-child, was the favorite among all living things. Wherever he went, he caused beautiful flowers, greenery, and exotic animals to thrive." Haymitch herded her away from another little green ornament hanging in the picture window. He snatched it down and kept walking.
Effie clicked her tongue and continued, "Well, one day, there was a terrible conspiracy involving a poisoned arrow, and the young god was killed. The entirety of creation was devastated. The sky turned gray, all the leaves fell off of the trees, and the air turned dry and cold. You see, Haymitch, that was the first winter." Haymitch pursed his lips and headed towards the kitchen, Effie right behind. "The goddess, who was his mother, fell into paroxysms of despair and grief, and nothing would comfort her. But one day, as she sat weeping in front of one of the very same plants that had been used to poison the arrow, her son's spirit of goodwill and devotion overwhelmed her. Gathering up a spray of this plant, called Mistletoe, she held it up before all of nature. She declared that when the world was cold and dark, when everything seems hopeless and bleak, the people people of earth should stand under these little leaves and remind each other, with kisses, that there is still love in the world."
As Effie spoke these last words, the lid slammed shut on the trash pail, into which Haymitch had dropped all the little bundles of twigs. They both stared at the metal receptacle in silence.
Without shifting her gaze, Effie added quietly, "I thought they needed those, after all they've been through… to remind each other that there's still love in the world."
She turned on her heels and left the kitchen.
The mood in the penthouse was sour after the Victor's Ball. The children had been discourteous throughout the event, and had positively sulked after the presidential toast. At one point, Effie had sent Haymitch to speak them, hoping he might convince them to lighten up for their own sakes, but he appeared to have just made the situation worse. Katniss and Peeta went directly to their separate rooms upon returning to the apartment.
Haymitch now stood in front of the breakfront, fishing ice out of the bucket with tongs. Effie sat at the adjacent table, pulling off the Tudor ruffs she wore as bracelets that evening. She sipped a little brandywine she'd poured into a stemmed cordial glass. Neither spoke.
Suddenly Peeta appeared ascending the steps that led up to the dining area.
"Peeta! You should be resting, dear. It's been a very long tour." Effie infused her admonition with as much motherly affection as she could.
"I know, Effie. I just want a glass of water," he replied. The young victor set a clean tumbler on the sideboard next to Haymitch and poured half a glass from the pitcher. "Oh, I almost forgot. Look, Haymitch." Peeta pulled a fist sized clump of leaves out of his coat pocket. "Capitol citizens hang oak-chocker all over their houses as decorations. They kept giving it to us and telling us to kiss for the cameras. It was really strange." he chuckled. "Katniss said to give it to you. She said that stinky old weed would only be good for someone like you. It was the only time she laughed all night." Peeta tossed the crumpled clusters onto the breakfront in front of Haymitch, wished the mentor and the escort a good night, and returned to his room.
Effie rose and carried her empty cordial glass to the sideboard. She said, "As much as it pains me, it's one year of bad luck for those who refuse to kiss when caught near a mistletoe sprig." She raised herself onto her toes and kissed Haymitch's cheek.
As she turned to go to her room, Haymitch stopper her. "Hey, um, Effie..."
"Oh, Haymitch, there's no need to apologize," she interrupted. "You were just trying to protect them."
An impish grin crept across Haymitch's face. He pointed to the pile of twigs on the breakfront. "That's not what I meant. There are five mistletoe ornaments here."