AN: I do not own anything. Not at all in the Hunger Games timeline.
She never wore dresses if she could avoid them. The only day she would ever wear a dress was reaping day. She had worn that blue dress and shouted she volunteered. Caroline wouldn't have made it through the Games. She had looked so horrified when her name was called. Her instinct had hurt her. She would have to survive to Games to make it back for her family. She remembered how the dress felt under her fingers as she was moved.
She had kept touching her dress when they were on the train to the Capitol. A piece of home she couldn't quite curse. She hated dresses. Bad things always happened when people wore dresses.
Looking at the ones in the closet on the train make her want to hit something.
Marcel talks to them at breakfast, telling them what will happen in the Capitol. She can't help but ask, why the other victor isn't with him. He diverts the topic to the fact she'll have to wear a dress. She pauses in the middle of a bite of some kind of keeps eating. He's the mayor's son, he's used to good food but he hasn't seen this much food at one table either. She wonders if the dresses are optional.
Marcel gives her a grin and tells her it's almost mandatory. She'll have one sewn onto her if that was what it took to keep her in it. Girls who wore pants to interviews usually died early, Marcel points out. Elena doesn't want to die early, and they all know it.
"I'll wear a dress." She sighs.
Tyler looks almost surprised when the Stylists put layers of fabric on them. She doesn't understand until she looks in the mirror. It's some kind of suit, that makes them look like coal on fire. Her hair has things placed in it, they glow like embers, flickering from their places in her dark hair. Dark makeup, as they called it, makes her look more intimidating. She just feels nervous. Tyler just has a forced smile on his face and says, "At least it's not a dress."
Her face cracks into an almost natural smile. At least it's not a dress.
She wears a dress to the Interview, it's bright red under the few layers of meshy fabric. After the red, there's a layer of orange mesh, then yellow, and gray covers it all. It looks like she's an ember. Of course, District 12 is coal. Of course she's wearing the odd coal dress. She's spent hours standing and talking to Marcel and her Stylist. Her prep team has spent the time carefully circling her and carefully fixing things, brushing makeup here and there. She wants to rip the dress, but it was sewn on to fit her exactly. She's not getting out of it by herself.
They fit little things onto her skin, and she looks like a coal again, about to burn brighter than ever. At least, that's what her stylist says. She's just happy she's not wearing all black like last year's tributes. They were so hot even the Capitol makeup couldn't disguise their sweat on the cameras.
The dress has a certain weight to it, one she's not sure she likes. It feels like the dress is weighing her down. The escort quizzes her harder than she quizzes Tyler, and she can just tell she's going to mess up. Dresses always meant doom. Always.
She messes it up, and the host calls her relatable. She can live with that description. She talks about her brother instead of Caroline, doesn't want to mess anything up for her. She's sure Caroline would prefer privacy. But most of the interview revolves around one of the things she hates most. Dresses.
As soon as the interview's over, she wants to get out of her dress and into something more comfortable. She has to wait forever, and it takes her prep team, all three of them, just to get her out of the complicated dress.
She thinks about it, while in the Arena. If she survives, they'll likely stuff her into another horrible dress. But she'd wear dresses for the rest of her life if she could avoid killing other tributes. She can't hide in trees the rest of her life, the Games will force her out, and into action at some point. She wants to dream of a world without the Games, and without dresses, but she keeps her eyes open.
When there's no one left, and they announce she's won, she is not beautiful, in a dress. She's covered in blood, some her own, some of the boy she just killed from District 1. She is not beautiful, but she knows, she is sure, the people of the Capitol will glamorize it. She can practically hear her mentor remarking how dark hair and dark red makeup is in season. Whatever that means. It won't be inspired by a dark red, it will be blood red and she hates the Capitol people, hates the entire system that will force her into a dress again for killing other people. They'll all smile and parade her around like they didn't shove her into an arena and let her kill people without any punishment. If she has to wear a dress, she wants blue. If she sees blood red anywhere, she'll scream.
In the short time Elena spends in the Capitol after the Games, she wears pants at any given opportunity. They tried to alter her, she was too skinny when she got out of the arena. She heard Marcel shout for the first time while wearing a hospital gown, that they are not altering her without her permission. Marcel shouts that she will not get the surgery they want to perform on her, or he will ruin them. One of the first emotions that comes out of her since before the Games makes her chest feel tight, her breath caught in her throat. She wonders if it'll affect how she looks in dresses. Maybe she won't have to wear them anymore. Marcel tells her, when he's allowed in later, that her dresses and clothes will be padded until she gets back to her previous weight.
Her team is given instructions on how to get her back to being healthy again, and the dresses from then on are padded. She's still wearing something that reminds everyone of her district, but it's black with blue accents. Her stylist just says that blue flames are beautiful, and her favorite. Elena can't help but wonder if she's implying what Elena thinks she is.
She's a little quiet when she has to do another interview, watch the Games as if she didn't live through them. The dress is heavy, and tight and she just wants to cry and eat. But she gives it her best effort to smile and look pretty in her dress because that's all everyone wants from her.
She does not wear dresses on the train, she spends her time divided between time with Marcel and eating. She takes all of the dresses out of her room on the train, scribbles a note for the pile of fabric and doesn't see them again.
She has to wear dresses on the victory tour, but wears pants underneath, as soon as she can she changes into a sweater. She doesn't let Elijah touch her while she wears dresses. People who wore dresses were doomed. She can't risk that spreading to him.
Once the Victory Tour is over, she does not wear another dress for the rest of her life. She wears anything but.
As she looks at Elijah, his hand in hers, she's wearing a red dress. His grip loosens on hers as his body relaxes, and she's just a few seconds behind him as her does the same.
finis