Some long babbly trigger warnings:
So I didn't want to write the whole Effie–gets–taken–and–tortured–by-the–Capitol thing because I feel yuck at the idea of Effie getting hurt. Unfortunately I think it probably happened so I have written it, even though it hurts my heart. I'm also not going to wimp out and not make it graphically awful, even though I wanted to, because ugh, these things happen, for real, and it is awful. So, warnings for badness, if you wanna skip this chapter please do, I'll fill you in and understand. *hugs*.
2.
She did not wake well that morning. She never particularly did wake well, and indeed she would have been the first to admit that she was a nightmare to anyone who had the misfortune to try and speak to her before the first cup of coffee. But that morning was worse, because she woke to find the bed empty beside her.
It was not too strange, she reasoned, not inexplicable or even an unkindness. Haymitch would have gone to see them off to the games; perhaps escort Peeta while Cinna took Katniss. She checked the time – usually her first port of call in the morning anyway – it was that sort of time. She yawned hard, rubbed her scrunching early morning forehead and got heavily out of bed. She was just getting a dressing gown on when the knock came at the door.
She did not answer it, of course; it was ridiculous for anyone to think of her answering when she was not yet dressed and didn't even have her face on. But she had got no further than even beginning with her face when the door was kicked down and four Peacekeepers marched in.
"Well, I never!" There was no situation, no feeling, even genuine terror, that she could not hide behind outraged effrontery – "What is the meaning of this?" One of them ordered her harshly to come with them; that was all.
"No I will not!" she spoke instinctively, rashly perhaps – "Not until you –" she did not even have time to cry out, just felt a stinging crack across her head before everything went black and red and sort of warm.
-x-
She came around slowly and wondered if she had died. Nobody had ever hit her, let alone knocked her out in her life and she had no point of reference. Her vision swam, her head throbbed, she was in a small room she did not recognise, a cell perhaps. Everything was white.
"Effie?"
She was not alone, and that voice – that voice was comforting, though it sounded perplexed, appalled and as though the person were suffering. She blinked hard, sat up a little on the cold floor. She was appalled to realise that she was still only wearing her dressing gown, and not sure how many people had seen her. She peered across the room –
"Cinna?" she whispered and her eyes widened. She forgot what she was wearing – "Cinna, oh my god –"
Her eyes stung. She wanted to cry. Cinna was a mess. Dazzling, brilliant Cinna who only ever looked perfect. They had clearly taken him even less gently than they had her. Dried blood coated his face, one eye was puffed closed, an arm that looked broken hung across a chest that looked somehow horribly wrong. She knew nothing of anatomy but even she could suspect that he had a bone broken somewhere.
"It's okay –" he winced as he said it but his voice was so warm if she hadn't been able to see him she would have believed it – "It's okay, don't worry about me. What about you?"
"I'm –" she was not quite sure how she was. It seemed rude in the face of Cinna's injuries to say that her head hurt – "I'm cold – I'm not –" she leaned in, whispered it as though he might not have noticed – "I'm not wearing very much". She looked down, ashamed, bit her lip, made herself not tremble. It occurred to her for the first time that she might be stronger than she had thought she was. Cinna gave a cracked half smile;
"I can help with that, here –" he got unsteadily but certainly to his feet, reaching out a hand to her at the same time – "Help me with this –" he started shrugging his way out of his jacket. She moved quickly to help and awkwardly, slowly, determinedly, he helped her into it –
"It may be a little stained –" blood stained – she had noticed, she could not believe he was apologising for this – "But it's quite shock absorbent. Might be useful." This was not as comforting to her as she knew he meant it to be. "Now –" he directed her to wrap the dressing gown around her waist, all the while maintaining the most gentlemanly decorum in not watching her while helping that she had ever been privileged to see. Within minutes, and in spite of his injuries, he had made it look like a real skirt. Nobody else could have made her feel so magically and effectively dressed.
"Cinna thank you," she whispered – "You are amazing."
He half smiled;
"Too amazing. I know why I'm here – but you – we agreed not to tell you anything."
"Nobody did tell me anything," she could not keep the exasperation from her voice – "Who's we? I don't understand. Where are we? What did we do? Where's –"
"Shh!" he cut her off quickly – "Don't say anyone's name. Don't say anything to anyone. I'm gonna take a guess we've been taken in for what they call questioning –" he said it with a curl of the lip that made it the most ominous thing she had heard yet. At least until they heard footsteps echoing down the corridor a few moments later.
"Listen –" he said, talking quickly – "This wasn't supposed to happen so soon. Someone's coming to get you out of here, it's all been arranged. It won't be long. Stay strong, okay, sweetheart?"
In spite of the comfort Cinna meant her she felt a stab so sharp she had to say –
"Don't – don't call me that – is he – I mean we -" for the first time she felt her eyes well up with tears.
"It's okay," Cinna said quickly – "It's okay Effie. I know. I always knew. You're neither of you as subtle as you think you are. Maybe that's why you're here, I guess. He's safe, he didn't mean for this to happen to you. They won't get to him and –"
"But he knew it was a possibility?"
"It's complicated. You'll find it all out soon. Who do you think has arranged to get you out?"
She opened her mouth silently; there was so much she wanted to say, but all that came out after a long pause was –
"Cinna?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry I shouted at you – that time Katniss shot at Seneca. I didn't mean to snap."
He smiled that time and almost laughed.
"You shouted at everyone. It's really alright."
"Cinna –"
But then the Peacekeepers came in and herded them out of the cell at gunpoint. Effie swallowed hard, told herself sternly not to faint, could hear her own voice tell her there is always room for manners, felt Cinna's hand take hers, squeeze tightly, took the strength offered and raised her chin as high as it would go as she walked out steadily.
They were taken to a larger room where they were pushed down roughly onto their knees; Effie just to Cinna's left. He let go of her hand gently. There were more Peacekeepers in here and one man who looked as though he was in charge. They were looking at the two of them and talking, though she could not hear what was being said. One of them nodded sharply in Cinna's direction. She turned to him, eyes clear and unafraid, lying just as his eyes lied to her- for strength, to help, to reassure.
"It was the dress, wasn't it?" she said quietly.
"Pretty much," he nodded.
"It was beautiful," she whispered, smiling softly, and he smiled back. He knew. She was glad he knew.
A Peacekeeper walked over to the right of Cinna, and shot him in the head.
It happened so quickly Effie was still gasping on an intake of breath, jumping at the noise when his blood hit the side of her face and back of her neck. It was warm, wet, sticky- dreadful, like bugs crawling across the skin. She felt him fall forward and did not turn her head, never lowered her gaze from the Peacekeeper staring down at her, seemingly waiting for her to scream.
She did not scream. She resolved that she would not at any point do anything so indecorous as to start screaming. Her heart beat furiously between wondering if they were going to shoot her too, and simply sobbing internally for Cinna. No, she would not have them see her scream- or cry. She held her head as high as it would go, made herself a stone, exquisite in Cinna's very last design. Fire burned hot behind her eyes in lieu of tears.
She kept her resolution for longer than anyone who knew her ever could have imagined she would.
_x_
So yeah, this went in a different direction than I quite meant it too. It's gonna keep going that way for a bit as well I think, though fear not it will get better one we get to District Thirteen, but I'm thinking the next chapter or two could still be pretty grim. Sorry. :-) I love Effie and I'm crying over Cinna right now.