I really enjoyed this one-an AU prompt for Effie bring a tribute, any year. I deliberately went super ambiguous with that, as you will see. But she's a tribute, and Haymitch is her mentor. Owned by Suzanne Collins.
As she rises up into the arena, Effie feels drenched-they've entered into a rainforest and the humidity is already attacking her delicate skin-she's never been one to sit in the sun, and can already feel the beginnings of a heat rash. It's what she tries to concentrate on instead of the tortuous countdown.
Go when they go…go when they go…go when they go…
Her mentor's words echo in her ears-pretty much his most coherent words, but possibly the best advice to not dying before the games even begin. That, and 'stay alive'. Effie may have played up her dumb blonde persona even more so than usual, but she wasn't fooled-she was a small, tiny slip of a girl, had very few skills to speak of (aside from her finishing school lessons-pouring tea without a spill and giving oneself a manicure were what she excelled at-what she wanted to excel at in life, but now as a tribute, she doesn't see much of that happening in her future), and nobody would ever expect her to come out of this arena alive.
But the countdown kept ticking, and Effie reflects a little on her life as a tribute so far-she's been adored and loved by those watching, there's no denying that-the roar of the crowd seeing her, despite getting a low score, tells her that. They'll also love her just as much when she's killed in this cesspool of a place.
So she'll be loved-that's good enough for her, she thinks. It's all she ever wanted, really-she had told Bean back home that they'd go all the way after the reaping (she's been through six of them, what are the chances?), but now he's stuck watching her on screen with Caism, her fellow tribute, as they fight it out to get back home.
Caism...she looks to him, scared for him-he's taller than her (who isn't?), has more strength in his body, but has been in glasses his entire life-it makes him an easy target, despite his strength and speed, he'll be helpless without them, and nobody would think highly enough of his skills to help him to their advantage.
Ten seconds. Eyes off the clock, Trinket. Go when they go. No need to get blown up in mud, might as well give her fans a show.
...
It's been four days, and remarkably, Effie is both still alive and has yet to kill anyone. The rainforest has worked to her advantage thus far, the flora allowing for easy hiding, and after years of flower arrangements, she knows a little bit about which ones have poison and which don't. Already she's been able to drug many of the top tributes, allowing for those smaller, a little weaker, the advantage needed to get rid of them.
Caism is dead, of course-he tripped in the mud at the cornucopia, and one of the careers made it quick for him while Effie ran, ran, as fast as she could as far as she could.
She's lucky, she knows, to have found the forest lush with various fruits and flowers-they all are. But being stocked with enticing fruits doesn't mean the arena is being kind-most of the vegetation is poisonous and in one case, she desperately hopes was never caught on those invisible cameras, acted as a laxative.
It leaves her weak and empty, her insides completely drained of all energy. Ever conscious of her appearance, even in the arena, Effie makes a few quips for the cameras, hoping to gain a few laughs, maybe a sponsor sympathetic enough to send her something, anything.
They don't, of course.
Her first kill comes in the night, destined to be reviewed and replayed the next morning. It's Aka, one of the largest careers left, and sturdy enough not to have been left as drowsy as the others when Effie fiddled with their water supply.
It's not her best hiding place she knows, but she's become a little brazen since having had the world watch her empty her bowels. Not a smart move, but in Effie Trinket's world, she has nothing else to lose.
So as she's yanked down from her perch in her half-sleep, Effie, for a split second, feels ready to die. But when Aka looks at her, knife against her throat, pinning her down on the ground, and begins to unbutton his trousers, all Effie can see is pure hatred and fire. The blade slivers across her throat as she violently reaches up and with all her might, just bites his nose off.
He screams and pulls back, momentarily dropping the knife (she'll roll her eyes later when she realises he made sure to keep a hand to protect his "valuables"), and she just starts hacking at him-like she would a block of ice for the perfect martini.
The sound of the cannon jolts her back to reality and she spits his nose back at him in bloody disgust. She was a lady, and despite the fact that he would have killed her anyway, so long as she drew breath, Effie Trinket would never allow anyone to treat her otherwise.
...
It's only a few more hours before daylight, and Effie isn't sure she'll quite make it. She's torn most of her shirt off in attempt to keep the staunch the bleeding at her neck, but she just feels so tired. She can no longer remember what plants have the meager healing properties that could help, and doesn't want to risk killing herself-mother would surely disapprove of such a mistake.
She's sitting by a small stream, rinsing out the bloody rag when she hears the 'blip' of salvation float down beside her.
'Get that neck nice and pretty again-H' the note says, and she doesn't hesitate to scoop the salve out of the small tub.
Another day passes before the cannon sounds-Effie hasn't been diligent in keeping track of how many tributes are left, so she's on her guard-suddenly it seems as if there's a chance to get out of here alive, and she's ready to take it.
She just has to be extra cautious, is all.
Lightly, she scampers through the foliage, determined to get a view of what might be left of the others-there can't be many of them left, this far into the games. She's watched too many games to know that those strongest have already been pitted against each other- Panem loses interest in the games that go on too long-she freezes as she hears a low growl behind her. Slowly she turns, meeting the eyes of the creature-the eyes of Caism stare back at her, and it only takes her a second to realise two things:
The first is to run for her life, of course. The second, is two find a source of camouflage-she doesn't care how much the Capitol has, Caism's eyesight was abysmal, and she can only hope that this gorilla-like creature has the same weakness.
If it hadn't been for Lulu, Effie is fairly certain she would have died that day. Actually, if it hadn't been for King spotting Effie running for her life first, and shoving Lulu to the ground to protect himself, giving the creature a slower prize, Effie is certain she would have died.
Instead, never looking back, she keeps running, Lulu's cries breaking through the pounding of her heart in her head, the breath in her ears, and the rage in her heart that King would be so callous to put himself before a lady.
He's stopped and is panting when she catches up to him, tackling him to the ground-they're both in a little awe as to how to she does it, being so slight in frame-and punching and clawing at his face, her Miss Manners tutor's words echoing in her head all the while.
Suddenly she finds he stops moving, and her hands covered in blood and her knife in her hands. She feels sick, and makes a run for it-keeps running, even as the cannon sounds and she's announced the winner. She can't stop running, can't go back to civilisation (hah, she thinks) like this, and when they find her, she's at a stream of water, frantically washing her hands, her knife long since discarded, and she's dry heaving by a tree when they knock her out and the world disappears.
...
Her eyes blink open, and she's back in her bed, back when Caism was alive and they had first arrived at the Capitol.
He watches as she slowly sits up, her arms struggling under the weight, hunching over herself.
"Effie." Her eyes snap to him, and in a split second she's the impeccable girl he first met at the reaping-pleasant smile, upright posture, hands carefully folded in her lap. Her hair is a mess, but even she knows when to cut her losses.
"Haymitch. How lovely it is to see you again." She says, smiling at him. "As you can see, your advice paid off quite well." She continues, gesturing to her surroundings. "I stayed alive."
"Congratulations." He replies in a dry tone. She hums her thanks, and they sit in silence, him studying her, and Effie seems to fade out of existence.
Eventually Dot bursts into the room with the rest of the makeover team, all squealing in excitement, and Haymitch keeps watching the girl-no one comes out of the arena this poised and collected. He had been stunned and running on adrenaline, ready for the comfort of a bed and a girl between his legs, but in all his years as mentor, he's never seen someone snap so quickly back to their former selves.
Oh, they all try to pass it off as being tired, but he can see those moments of relief when they realise the person behind them isn't carrying a weapon, can all but see their hearts pounding in such a rhythm when something or someone reminds them of what they've seen.
Effie Trinket is different, it seems, and he's ready to be disgusted and judgmental when he sees it-the animated face and chatter and poise making up for the empty pools of blue in her eyes.