A/N: I started this story weeks ago and I must say I'm very nervous about the feedback I'll receive, mainly because I haven't posted more than one-shots in just about two years. But I'm excited to be writing for a new fandom and I hope everyone likes it!

I'm going by the book universe in everything but the time that passed between Katniss killing Coin and going back home - this part is just like the movie, she went home right afterwards. So, yes, Effie was taken as a prisoner in this story. After Ch. 3, we'll have a big time jump and the rest of the story will happen then.

Chapters 1-3 are from Haymitch's POV, 4-6 are from Effie's, 7-9 are from Haymitch's again, and 10-12 from Effie's.

I have most of the story written, and right now it's going to have 12 chapters, but since I'm still writing Ch. 11 that could change. You never know with writing.

This is a Hayffie story, but there'll be Peeta/Katniss as well. Johanna, Annie and Finnick's son (I call him Levi here, pronounced Leh-vee) will feature as well.

Any mistakes are my own!

Anyway, hope everyone likes it!

Love, Loss and Legacy

Chapter 1: Reunions

The party was in full swing when Haymitch arrived, which suited him just fine; he quickly accepted a glass of whisky from a waiter passing by and made his way through the crowd that was watching President Paylor's speech with interest. Although Haymitch had nothing against the woman, he paid no attention whatsoever to her words — he knew most likely what it was about and he wasn't sure he really wanted to rejoice in it.

Not that he wasn't happy that Panem was united at last, or that this evening was about celebrating the anniversary of such union; it was simply that in the end of all things, his life hadn't really changed a whole lot since the war ended. He still had to make trips to the Capitol occasionally. He still had nightmares about his arena and all the kids he had to mentor afterwards. He still hated giving interviews and he still loved booze.

He had his geese, though. And the kids. And new nightmares about the Rebellion but those were to be expected. He supposed that wasn't so bad, all in all. Not sending kids to death every year and being able to travel freely was definitely a plus, even if he didn't do a lot of traveling himself.

Nevertheless, he still abhorred social functions and he only attended the party because someone from Twelve had to, and since Katniss couldn't and he sure as hell wouldn't make Peeta go through this, he was the next obvious choice.

And also because Heavensbee pretty much told him he had to, having been one of the leaders of the Rebellion.

The speeches done, Haymitch greeted a few people, not really stopping long for any conversation, spent maybe five minutes talking to Gale Hawthorne before excusing himself to find another drink, managed to find himself a seat by the bar and intended to stay there for the rest of the party (when would it be appropriate for him to leave, he wondered? Not that he was that concerned about propriety) when someone dropped on the seat next to him and he looked sideways with little interest.

"Some things never change, do they?" Johanna's tone was as soft and snarky as ever. Her hair was still short but much longer than he had last seen her, and she had gained a few pounds in the past year. She looked healthier, but her eyes were still haunted. He was sure his were the same — they all were. "They may have taken those wigs and skin paintings off, and maybe there aren't avoxes anymore, but look at this."

Haymitch turned around to face the party. To be fair, she was right. Although the extravagant wigs and arts were apparently not in fashion anymore, Capitols — and even some District people, he noticed — still wore ridiculous clothes and electric colors. He was personally glad this still hadn't hit Twelve. Johanna herself wore a dark red dress that he personally thought looked very nice in her figure.

He arched his eyebrows and turned back around towards the bar, taking a sip from his whisky.

"How's Annie?" he asked, though Peeta kept him updated on the victor's news.

"She's fine. Couldn't come, you understand. She's still crazy," Johanna let out a humorless laugh before sobering up. "Levi keeps her sane. He's a good baby. I only came because she insisted. Says we owe them."

Haymitch shook his head slightly. Johanna snickered.

"I know," she shook her head. "We think they don't own us anymore, but they kind of do."

There was a moment of pause when the bartender handed Haymitch another drink and Johanna ordered one.

"They need us. It's different," Haymitch finally said. "They need our support. It'll get better eventually."

"You mean like life got better?" she offered. "I get that it's better. I'm happy Snow and his people died. Annie has her son and Peeta and Katniss have each other like the star-crossed lovers they always were," she rolled her eyes, "but what do we have?"

The bartender finished Johanna's drink and she lifted it to Haymitch in mock salute.

"Booze," he said, and she laughed, though there was no real humor in it.

She drank her entire glass at once and turned around to watch the party unfold. Haymitch took no notice; he and Johanna had always gotten on well in the past but they were hardly the best of friends.

"And speaking of which, here comes booze's worst enemy," Johanna proclaimed loudly, making Haymitch turn around.

The sight did make him smile slightly, though not enough that anyone who didn't know him would notice. In all the years they had worked together, he had rarely been happy to see Effie Trinket walking towards him. This was not one of those occasions.

Although they had promised to stay in touch when the war was properly over, he and Effie never actually spoke afterwards; the promise had been tentative at most. She still had a long way to recovery after her time imprisoned and he had been too busy with Katniss to think about their friendship — if that was the correct term to determine whatever it was that they were. He knew from Peeta that she was doing fine, though — completely recovered, the boy had said, and working for the new government after having received immunity from Paylor at Katniss' request.

Still, she was different — different from the last time he had seen her, of course, but she looked different from before as well.

"Johanna," Effie said, reaching Seven's victor first and Haymitch was surprised that they actually hugged. Her hair was styled in a bun at the top of her head and he was pretty sure it was her real hair, considering the color. He was glad her eyebrows weren't bleached and the makeup wasn't too strong. She moved towards him. "Haymitch."

Their embrace was brief and it surprised him. He had not expected her to be so affectionate, although he couldn't really complain. She hadn't exactly agreed with him when he told her he'd go back to Twelve. He hadn't invited her, and she hadn't asked. He had mentioned he didn't want to go to the Capitol ever again, and she hadn't replied. Yet here he was. Here she was.

She had changed her perfume.

"Nice dress," he commented. She was wearing a long, slightly puffy dress and he couldn't help but notice that the cleavage was pretty nice. It was discreet, compared to what she used to wear in the past. She looked good.

"My goodness, is that a compliment?" Effie laughed, her accent already contributing to a headache he was quite sure he'd develop soon. "Things do change! I couldn't believe it when Peeta told me you were actually attending the celebration."

"Got some business with Plutarch this week," Haymitch shrugged. "Thought it'd be good to come."

"You mean Peeta asked you to," Effie said, before turning her attention to Johanna. "How is baby Levi doing?"

"He's fine. He's great at sitting nowadays," Johanna rolled her eyes, but Haymitch knew she meant well.

"And the children?" Effie looked at him again. "Of course I call Peeta regularly but since I'm not there I cannot actually be sure they're doing well."

"They're good, sweetheart," Haymitch told her. "You could always visit, you know."

"Yes, right. I could," she seemed uncertain for a moment. There was a brief moment of silence. "Well, I hope you're enjoying yourselves."

"Sure. Free drinks," Johanna smiled. "Bet you're enjoying your last days of freedom too, huh, Trinket?"

Haymitch frowned. Effie seemed disconcerted — it wasn't something he was used to, seeing Effie silent and uncertain and not babbling his brains out.

"I'm being transferred to Four in two weeks," she clarified, but for some reason Haymitch thought there was more to it. "This is my last week of work here, actually. But since my job is PR, Johanna, tonight is more about work than fun for me."

"As is everything, per usual," Johanna rolled her eyes. "Is the party still on, then?"

"In two days?" Effie asked. "Why, yes, as far I'm aware, it is. You know Octavia, she's a little emotional about all this," she told them, and Haymitch finished his glass, wondering what world was this where Johanna and Effie went to parties together. "Octavia and Flavius are throwing a little party for me, to wish me luck. You're invited, of course. It's all very informal. If I had known you were coming, I—"

"Don't worry, sweetheart."

"No, no, I really do hope you'll come," Effie was quick to say. "I mean, we are friends, and you're in the Capitol, you should come."

He should have said no right away, of course, as he had no intention of going to some farewell party to Effie when it would make no difference to him whether she moved to Four or Thirteen or whatever, but for some reason he couldn't make himself decline.

"I'll see what I can do."

This seemed to make Effie happy. "Okay, I'll take it," she said with a smile that did reach her eyes. "If you'll excuse me, duty calls. I look forward to seeing you around, Haymitch."

He watched as she walked away. She looked healthy, much better than she did a year ago. The dress fit her well and he couldn't help but stare at her hips a little — he was only a man, after all. There was something, though — she was different.

Haymitch looked back to Johanna only to find her shaking her head. He opted to ignore it.

"So when did you and my escort become such close friends?"

"We were roommates for a while, during the war," she said nonchalantly, and Haymitch could have kicked himself. Of course. "And she's not your escort anymore," she reminded him, standing up. "Do come to Octavia's party, Haymitch. I think it'll be really fun."

And with those parting words, Johanna left, and Haymitch recognized the challenge in them, and even though he was well aware that he and Johanna probably did not share the same definition of fun... He was curious.

He saw her again the next day as he was leaving Plutarch's office. The elevator was empty when he got in and he had been leaning against the wall lazily when the doors opened and she stood there. Their eyes locked for a second longer than necessary and if he had thought the party meeting had gone well because it hadn't been awkward, he couldn't have anticipated how uncomfortable this was.

He recovered first.

"Going down, Sweetheart?"

She blinked before stepping into the elevator.

"Hello to you too, Haymitch," she said tightly, smoothing down her skirt as the doors closed. She was wearing a dark blouse and a purple pencil skirt. The bag she was carrying was also purple. The color reminded him of an eggplant. "You'd think your manners would have improved."

He snickered, biting down a remark.

"So, you work here?" he asked instead.

"For the time being, yes," she answered. He tried not to stare too much, but she was clearly making an effort. "Plutarch offered me the job. I was… it was very kind of him, I was a little lost after the war."

"Yeah, I can see that," Haymitch nodded thoughtfully.

"Well, you weren't here to—" she stopped herself as Haymitch flinched. "I apologize. That was uncalled for. I understand why you left."

He arched his eyebrows. "Do you?"

The doors opened and they were on the ground floor, finally. Effie did not reply. They left the elevator quietly.

"Listen, I, uh, I know it's kinda early but we could have a drink somewhere?" the words stumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. He had no idea what he was doing. Effie stopped in her tracks and looked at him strangely. "It's not… not anything fancy, just so we could talk."

A small smirk crossed her face. "Don't worry, I wasn't thinking you were asking me on a date," she looked around the lobby, where more people were leaving the building. "I know you better than that," she muttered under her breath. "I can't drink, actually. I'm sorry. But I'm up for a coffee."

"Sounds good to me."

The coffee shop was right across the street and surprisingly cozy, or as cozy as anything in the Capitol would be. Effie seemed to be a regular as she hadn't even looked at the menu and he remembered what a pain she used to be in restaurants before the war. There was only so much questioning a waiter could take, and Haymitch had seen more than one break under Effie's gaze.

He really liked this new fashion trend where women didn't really wear much makeup. He wasn't sure how many times he had seen Effie looking as natural as she did now but they hadn't been many. Her demeanor was pretty much the same now, though — she spoke loudly and babbled about her job and he hadn't even made many questions. Years of working side by side taught him a lot about her, and he knew there was something off right away. Perhaps she was nervous, or she simply didn't want him to know exactly what she was thinking. He had always been quite good at that.

"Why are you moving to Four?" he interrupted her as she told him about what a mess it was to find good staff to her department.

The question threw her off a little. She hated being interrupted, he knew.

"Really, Haymitch, I was in the middle of a story," she pursed her lips. "Plutarch offered me the transfer. I'll have my own team there. I'm quite good at PR, you know. This is a promotion to me."

"You never wanted to leave the Capitol before," he offered as an explanation, but he knew she understood what he wasn't saying.

You didn't want to come to Twelve.

Effie was silent, and she was spared a reply when the waitress brought their orders. Haymitch spiked some whisky from his flask into his coffee and ignored her staring.

"My mother died," Effie said, lowering her eyes and taking a sip of her coffee. "You know she was the last of my family."

"Yes. I'm sorry."

"It's alright. After my father and my brother… Well, let's just say it wasn't a surprise. She died about six months ago," she explained. "It's hard for me to understand that this is life now. I'm not complaining. I'm lucky, I know that. But it's hard. There's nothing for me here anymore."

Haymitch nodded. He knew the feeling.

"I'm moving to Four for my career but I think it'll be good to get away. I would like to travel through the districts some day. See how everything's changed."

"Sounds like a good project."

"I feel like… Well, one has to be optimistic," she laughed. "If everything's changed and I'm changed, I might as well change my life with it. I can't stick to the past. If I do, I'll go mad," she turned to look outside the window absentmindedly. Haymitch took a big sip of his coffee. When he looked up, she was looking at him again. "I mean, it could be worse. We're here, so that must mean something. We can be friends, right?"

Were they ever friends, though?

"Right," he answered mechanically.

"Because I… I really would like your opinion on something," she took a deep breath and straightened her posture. Haymitch arched his eyebrows. "I trust you will be honest."

"Ain't I always, Princess?"

"Too much, sometimes. Well, I… you'll end up knowing anyway," she said quickly, and Haymitch thought it was all rather comical. "I want to have a child."

That didn't sound right. Effie, a mother?

That was a stretch.

"Come again, Sweetheart?"

"I want to have a child," Effie declared once more. Okay, so he had heard her correctly. "This is my project. The move to Four is actually part of it. I thought I'd adopt, because that would be much easier — especially on my figure — but as it turns out being a former escort means they won't accept me."

Haymitch stared at her.

"And of course, there aren't many— well, there aren't many children available in the area," she breathed quickly. "So my first option was out, you understand. I could try a surrogate but that is equally complicated. So I'm actually going to get pregnant."

And now she was staring at him, and he felt like he must say something.

"So you're not yet?" he asked dumbly.

"No, not yet. That's what Johanna meant by my last days of freedom," Effie told him. "It's quite exciting, really. The procedure will be done in two days, hopefully it'll work, but the hardest part was done already, which was choosing the donor. You have no idea the type of men they have in these catalogs, Haymitch."

"I really have no idea," he agreed, then sat back and crossed his arms. "You want to get pregnant. And have a baby."

Effie blinked.

"Yes."

"You want to be a mother? You?"

"There's no need to be rude, Haymitch," she hissed. "Yes, I do. You do understand I looked after children for over ten years. I am good with children."

"Sure, yeah, children who were going to die," Haymitch added, and he knew that wasn't the right thing to say the moment the words left his mouth.

"There's no need to bring that up," Effie said quietly. "Children won't die anymore, Haymitch. I never actually wanted them but I see the country we are now and I like to think of the future. And I'm… well, I'm alone. I have no family, I'm thirty-four, I… I'm not like you, Haymitch. I can't go home to an empty house and drink myself to sleep forever. I need something to live for."

"And you think getting a child is what will make you feel that."

"Don't say it like that, I'm not getting a pet."

"Are you sure this isn't related to your family being gone?"

"Of course it's related!" Effie hissed. "But as far as I'm aware that's not a bad reason to want to have a child. The way I see it, wanting one is enough reason to have one."

"Okay," Haymitch shook his head slightly and took a deep breath. "Okay. And you're not doing it the traditional way? Not waiting for your Prince Charming to show up in his sports car and well trimmed beard and knock you off your feet?"

Effie chuckled. "Let's be honest, that is very unlikely. I'm not that young anymore, and I don't necessarily… I intimidate men, Haymitch. I'm a former escort who works for the government and spent months in the peacekeepers' captivity. People don't know where I stand. Most people don't recognize me, not really, but as soon as I say my name… well. You know how it is," she sighed. "And I can't do it the traditional way, anyway. It is extremely unlikely that I should conceive naturally."

"Ah, that's why you're not drinking."

She nodded. "Increasing my chances on it working the first time by keeping sober and taking my vitamins."

"Damn, this is really a project, isn't it? Do you have your schedules and all?"

Effie glared at him. "Language. And yes, as a matter of fact, I do."

Haymitch closed his eyes for a moment. Effie Trinket, a mother. By choice. She actually wanted to reproduce. Okay.

"And, uh, you mentioned a catalog?"

"Yes, to choose the donor. It was dreadful, really," she feigned a shudder. "It's actually a very common practice here in the Capitol so many women and couples are doing it, but the fertility rate from District donors is much higher."

"Can't say I'm surprised."

"Please, don't be crude," it was more of a warning than a request, Haymitch noticed. "Anyway, I chose a man from Three, actually. A teacher, so he's smart."

"You're going to be inseminated by a random guy you don't know."

"Well, I've met him, and I don't like that term, Haymitch," she cringed. "He's quite nice. If you come to the party tomorrow he will be there and you can meet him."

"What party?"

"The one Flavius and Octavia are organizing, of course," Effie said. "It's actually a getting pregnant party. It's the latest trend here in the Capitol."

"The latest trend is to have a baby by a random guy's semen and throw a party about it. Of course, I should have known," he ditched the coffee and drank straight from his flask.

"I hope—I hope you're happy for me, Haymitch," Effie said, and that made him look at her again. "I know you think this is very different but it is what I want. And I hope you understand that."

She looked serious. Haymitch gulped the last of the whisky and felt it burn down his throat in the familiar, soothing way it always did. He shrugged, and took a moment to look at her — to really see her. The Effie Trinket he knew would have never gone out in public without at least a heavy layer of powder covering her face, and she wouldn't have been wearing such somber clothes (even if she still looked like an eggplant), and she wouldn't have talked to him about having a child or moving to live in a district or ditching all the wigs she used to have.

He supposed people did change. And he did understand. It didn't mean he agreed, though.

"Yeah. Sure, Effie," he said at last. "You want a kid. You should have a kid."

She glared at him.

"Please don't use that tone with me, Haymitch."

"What tone?"

"That… That tone right there, the one you use when you think I'm delusional and this is just another trend that will be over in two months," Effie told him impatiently. "I'm not a child. Don't patronize me. I know exactly—no. No, I'm not going to argue with you," she said indignantly, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. "We're past that. I'm not your escort anymore."

Haymitch chuckled. "No. You're not," he didn't know why the words sounded so bitter to him. But she was right. For once, he knew she was right. "Sorry, Sweetheart. You should do what you think is best for you. And if that's a kid, then… I sure hope they won't be as talkative as you."

Effie did smile at that. It was tentative at first, and then it reached her eyes and he knew it was real. He smiled back, only slightly.

"You only say that," she said nonchalantly. "I know you miss listening to my voice when you're alone with your geese."

Haymitch frowned. "How do you know about my geese?"

"Peeta, of course," Effie shrugged. "Really, Haymitch? Geese? You really couldn't choose a normal animal for a pet, such as a dog or a cat or a tortoise?"

He scrunched up his nose. "Since when is a tortoise a normal pet?"

"More so than geese, I'm sure."

They talked of trivial things — or, rather, Effie did, because Haymitch was not good at small talk at all, or at least not when he didn't feel like making an effort. It was dark by the time they left the café, though not yet late, and he was contemplating emptying his hotel room's fridge when Effie looked at him expectantly.

"I actually have some things I'd like you to take to the children, if you wouldn't mind. I was going to send it to them, but since you're here, that would be easier. And quicker," she added. "Unless you have plans tonight, of course. You can always stop by before you go back to Twelve."

The offer was there. He remembered fairly well where her apartment was. He also remembered what happened the last time he was there.

It was a bad idea.

He found himself nodding.

"Sure. Lead the way, Princess."

A/N 2: Do you like it, hate it, eager to read more, meh? Tell me!