AN: First off, we'd like to thank SmurfsTasteGoodOnToast, XmadlyinloveX, Changolian, Minerva-Amantine, valevilandra, illyna, nzlouise, AngelicAbernathy, Tattii, effies-scrapbook, loveu5missu6, YvelissaBlossom, TheGirlWhoWasOnFire21, Doc95, FunnyPuffins1600, Trinideanfan, gabisamore, Guest, grumpiah, Gatafairy, sequoia, lilyafterblue, Luce hutcherson, and egel-0507 for your reviews of last chapter. And of course, a huge thank you to those who favorited and alerted. Your support and kind words are very appreciated by us. We were joyfully surprised by the feedback we received and no word can describe how grateful we are. So, without further ado, here is chapter one.
Title: Forging Iron
Summary: In which Haymitch and Effie are imprisoned in the Capitol. AU.
Genre: Romance/Drama
Pairings: Hayffie
Rating: M for violence, language, and sexual harrassment
Disclaimer: We own nothing. Sorry, lawyers!
Chapter One: Effie
Every person had their own aroma to them—or so Effie had noted in her lifetime. There was her late mother who smelled of warm cinnamon and lilacs. Or Haymitch Abernathy, whose reek of liquor could burn anyone's sensitive nostrils. Katniss Everdeen with her earthy, and yet, somehow pleasant scent of pine. And President Snow, the strong unmistakable odor of roses that always seemed to linger in his presence. But none of these compared to the stench of the figure that now crossed into her path of vision. A smell of dirt and filth, of rot and sweat. A scent that chilled the blood in her veins. The almost certain sign that this was someone of whom she should be very, very frightened.
"So you are the famous Effie Trinket?" A masculine voice sneered. "The bubbly escort from District Twelve is it?"
Effie felt her heart pounding as the figure stepped into the light. For the first time, her eyes pinpointed in on the features of the man who now stood nearly inches from her person. He wasn't young. From what she could tell, perhaps in his mid-forties. He had a full head of oily blond hair with bangs cropped just above his brows. Thin, cruel lips that were sliced on the left side by a jagged scar that ran from his temple to his chin. And eyes so black it was as if they were still trapped in the shadows of the room.
Her stomach knotted with nausea. The mere smell and look of him was enough to curdle her very blood.
"From Twelve, is it?" He repeated softly. "You are the District Twelve escort, correct?
Effie said nothing. Her hands trembled violently in their restraints. She was unsure of how to answer him. Was this a rhetorical question? Was he challenging her in some unknown way? Or maybe he truly was curious. Before Effie had time to ponder it further, something flashed in the corner of her eye before slamming full force into the bone of her jaw.
The fist had recoiled before Effie finally realized what had happened. She had been hit. Punched even. For a split second all she felt was complete, utter shock. Never had no man nor woman ever laid a finger on Effie Trinket in the name of violence. The idea that anyone ever would seemed absurd to her until this moment. Absentmindedly, she tried to reach up—without success—and touch the spot, the painful swell of a bruise already forming.
"I'm sorry, did that hurt?" He asked, fingers extended toward her chin. "You must excuse me. I have a slight temper problem."
Effie had no means of escape as his hand cupped her chin, fingers digging deep into her soft flesh as his dark eyes focused on hers. She felt the pad of his thumb stroking the swollen area of her face, each time harder than the next. A small part of her mind, perhaps the only sane part at the moment, told her not to struggle and allow him to do what he wanted. The fear of getting another blow to the face loomed in her thoughts as he brought his face closer.
"I just really hate," he said through gritted teeth, "when people don't answer me. Don't you hate that too, Ms. Trinket?"
Effie stiffened as she felt his hand begin to slide down her throat, goosebumps forming in his fingers' trails. It was then, without warning, that both of his hands locked around her neck, squeezing out any possible molecule of oxygen as his grip tightened.
"I just really hate it! It disgusts me! One might as well be in Avox in that case. Don't you agree?" He bellowed, droplets of his saliva landing on Effie's maroon cheeks.
Effie was squirming involuntarily now. Her chest ached, the feeling that it would surely burst if she didn't get a breath of air in a few seconds became more intense. Somehow, despite the pain and the literal shock of this all, she managed to give what appeared to be a nod. The only sign of response she was able to give.
It seemed to work. The man's grip relaxed before his hands finally dropped away from her neck. The rush of air that filled her lungs sent her into a fit of gasps and coughs as she finally regained the ability to breath. Panting hard, she looked up at his expression, noting the smirk that sat on his lips.
"Was that so hard?" he whispered. "All I asked you to do was answer me. Do we understand now what happens when we don't respond?" His fingers lingered only centimeters from her neck before dropping back down by his side. "I think it's a fair punishment. Don't you?"
"Yes," Effie replied hoarsely.
He smiled. "That's a good girl."
Effie felt his eyes trailing over her body. For whatever reason, her cheeks began to burn with embarrassment at his stare. She didn't like being gawked at; especially when she had a feeling the person had more than just her beauty on their mind.
"You're a lot more tasteful to look at than that Mason girl from District Seven." He said wryly. "And your tongue isn't as sharp. I like that."
Effie tried to avert her gaze as he spoke but found herself forced to look when his hand locked around her jaw once more, whipping her head to face his. She cringed, waiting for another hit to come. It did not.
"President Snow said that he believed we should meet," he said. "Get in an acquaintance of sorts. He thought it best for you to know that when you don't talk, I'm here to help you with that. And as much as I enjoy seeing you—though maybe next time without all of this getup on…" he leaned in close, his putrid breath causing bile to rise in Effie's throat. "I don't think you will enjoy seeing me."
The man's thumb began to caress the bruise on her cheek once more. Effie could hear the drumming of her heart in her ears. She tried again to look away, but this only caused him to tighten his grip on her. Their eyes met, and in response, her skin began to crawl. It was almost as if his black eyes seemed to glisten with pleasure at her discomfort.
"Please," she breathed. "You must believe me. I know nothing of this rebellion Snow speaks of."
He frowned softly, his tongue clicking at her words. "Tsk, tsk, Ms. Trinket. Weren't you ever taught not to lie?"
Effie watched as his lifted his free hand, index finger extended towards her face. Slowly, he brought it to her lips and encircled their fullness with it. She bit the inside of her cheek hard. The urge to scream for the help that surely wouldn't come building within her. Soon, the pain of her outer bruise was overtaken by the burn of raw flesh as the taste of blood coated her tongue. She stopped gnawing on her cheek, a small, unsuppressed whimper escaping from her lips.
"Now, now. There were will be none of that," he murmured lowly. "I won't have crying. Not when I haven't done anything to you yet. You're taking the fun out of things, Ms. Trinket. We haven't even started yet." His smile was cruel and lecherous. "You do want to have fun, don't you?"
"I just want to go home," she whispered. "I don't belong here. Please, I have never broken any laws. I have no crimes against me. And this treatment… Surely it is illegal. I demand to speak to President Snow at once!"
"You are home, Ms. Trinket," he answered softly, his hand suddenly brushing down her neck, past her collar bone. "We are in the Capitol. Or, are you referring to somewhere else? District Twelve, maybe? Thirteen?" He smiled coyly. "And unfortunately, as much as I would like to allow you, President Snow is handling other matters at this time."
Effie stiffened even more where she sat when she felt his hand travel onward. She tried to find her voice, tried to find the will to shriek at him to stop. Where had the bold Effie she had known gone? Disappeared with all of the rest of her reality?
"Let me give you a real reason to scream." His voice was low in her ear as his hand hovered right over her chest. "Let's hear you scream for your Capitol."
As if on some sort of cue, the door on the far side of the room opened. At first, Effie feared that this was part of the man's plan but when she saw the evident sign of annoyance flash across his face, she could not help but feel relieved.
"Peacekeeper Gaius?" a voice asked.
"Marius," the man now Effie knew of as Gaius answered. "Why are you here? I gave you orders to leave me to my work."
"President Snow himself sent me," Marius replied, stepping forward into the light and revealing himself to be a young man, no older than late twenties. "He requires you for a new matter."
Gaius frowned deeply, crinkles forming around his scarred lip. "I'm in the middle of something. Can it not wait?"
"President Snow says it's mandatory." Marius replied.
Gaius let out what sounded like a low growl. "Very well," he mumbled. "I shall see to it whatever he needs done is accomplished." He paused for a moment. "Marius, take her to her cell. I'm sure President Snow would like me to interrogate her further later."
Effie felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as Gaius bent low, his face once more inches from hers. He leaned forward, his lips so close to her ear that his breath tickled her skin. If it had not been for the dead silence in the room, she would have never heard his words.
"I'll be back for you later. And this time, I'll bring a game with me."
He stood up and turned on his heels. Without a second look to her or to the man named Marius, he walked out of the room so slowly, and so calmly, it was as if nothing had occurred. The door shut behind him. After a few seconds, Marius began to make his way towards her.
Effie tensed up as he stopped in front of her. As if from an instinct now inflicted on her by Gaius, she cowered back in her seat as Marius reached forward, his intentions for her unknown to Effie at this time.
"Hold still." Marius said sternly as Effie struggled in her restraints. "Unless you want to tear that thing out of your arm."
Effie's eyes locked on the young man's dull, green orbs as he leaned forward, taking a hold of the IV that sat deep in her arm. With a surprisingly gentle tug, he slowly pulled the long needle from her forearm. A flood of lightheadedness swept over Effie as she stared weakly at the long, thin rod that had just been in her arm.
"Come on," Marius said as he undid her restraints. "Stand up."
Effie hobbled onto her feet, her body swaying from a sudden wave of weakness that washed over her. Nauseated by the sudden movement, she leaned forward and dry heaved. The sound of her vomitless retching cracking through the still air. Marius moved close and grasped her forearm tightly in his hand.
"If you're going to vomit, do it in your cell. I don't want to have to smell it all day," he grumbled, pulling her along his side as he led her out of the door and into a dark corridor.
Effie tried to figure out where they were as they made their way down the long passage. Never had she seen—or even heard—of a place like this in the Capitol. Curious, she looked to Marius, taking in his stern and yet, somehow non-frightening scowl. He reminded her closely of someone else she knew very well.
"What are you staring at?"
The unsuspected voice of Marius caused Effie to jump in surprise. She looked at his face once more but saw no change, nor even notice of him watching her. She bowed her head slightly, her eyes focusing on the side wall.
"What is this place?" she finally asked.
"It has no name," Marius replied as they turned a corner. "But it's no place you wish to be either."
"I don't wish to be here at all!" she exclaimed. "As I have told President Snow and that horrid man you call Gaius, I know nothing! There has been a mistake. How many times must I repeat myself?"
"If you speak truthfully of this," Marius said in a low voice, his grip tightening on Effie's arm, "then you would be wise to keep silent. President Snow does not keep prisoners that are of no use to him. If you know nothing, you are as good as dead." He paused. "Perhaps you would be better off that way..." his voice trailed off as they stopped in front of a thick, wrought iron door. "Death, in some ways, is more merciful than life."
There was a clink as Marius toyed with the door before it slowly creaked open, revealing behind his entrance a pitch black room. Desperate, Effie glanced at him, hoping that perhaps this was some sort of horrible trick. Marius did not offer a smile.
"Please…" was all she managed to say as he led her in. "Don't."
Marius stepped back, his figure disappearing as the darkness overtook Effie's sight. She squinted at the door, trying to grasp any light that lingered outside of it while it lasted. No such luck. There was only the fear of realization that this was truly happening as the door shut her inside, its slam echoing through the dead air like a Tribute's death cannon.
AN: Gaius is quite the character isn't he? Anyway, we hope you enjoyed this chapter despite its dark undertone. Feedback including constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. We love knowing your thoughts and such. Next chapter will be in Haymitch's POV so stay in tune. Also, if you're curious to how we imagined Gaius and Marius to look, there is a link to a picture we did of them on our profile page. -Grace and Jen
