Chapter Three
Between You, Me and the Gatepost
Effie paced up and down the cabin she'd been allocated. It was not nearly as luxurious as the trains used to transport tributes and victors to and from the Capitol, but it was a damn sight faster, due to its main use being to move peacekeepers throughout the districts. And today speed was much more important than comfort.
It had been a day like any other in the Capitol. Effie had spent her day meticulously planning schedules for the upcoming wedding and had enjoyed a lunch out with Cinna and Portia, both of whom were very tired from all the work they were putting in to Katniss and Peeta's attire.
But as always, they were a joy to be around, and it was a relief for Effie to spend time with others who were aware of the danger they were now in. They never spoke of it as such, but everyone was on edge and certain comments were enough to know that the situation was never far from any of their minds.
After lunch Effie had walked back to her apartment, fully intending to finish the seating arrangements for the wedding breakfast, before treating herself to the rest of the day off.
However, when she arrived home her plans were to take a dramatic change. As she stepped inside her stylishly decorated home she realised in an instant that she wasn't alone.
Where before the last games, and particularly before the victory tour, Effie might have believed it to be burglars, which was a frightening thought in itself. However after what Haymitch had told her, about the death threat now hanging over all of them, she was more afraid of the alternative.
She started when Plutarch Heavensbee came to greet her, "Please come and sit down, Miss Trinket, we haven't a great deal of time."
Despite her fear Effie felt a degree of irritation, who was this man, this gamemaker, to order her around in her own home? None the less Effie took a seat across the room from him and waited for an explanation.
Or a bullet.
"I will be blunt, there is a train that will depart for District Twelve in an hour, and you need to be on that train! You will be assisting Katniss and Peeta with the guest list for their wedding."
Effie was struck by how preposterous the whole thing sounded, however she didn't interrupt Plutarch, she was still scared it may be a set up to some terrible accident.
"There is compulsory viewing across the whole of Panem tonight, after the airing of the wedding dresses there will be the announcement of the quarter quell, it is imperative that you are well away from the Capitol by then." Plutarch paused, clearly reaching a difficult part of his little speech. "Please know that it wasn't of my doing, the orders have come from on high, from Snow I think. I'm so sorry Effie."
With that he was gone, leaving nothing but Effie who was more worried now than she had been to begin with, a train ticket, and a note.
Pack a bag.
And that was how an ordinary day had become something else entirely. Effie continued to pace restlessly, throughout the showing of the perspective bridal gowns, unable to settle and watch.
However, when the seal of Panem came on screen, Effie forced herself to pay attention.
As a reminder that even the strongest among the rebels cannot overcome the strength of the Capitol, this year's tributes will be selected from the current pool of victors.
It was then that Effie began to realise the reason behind Plutarch's visit. She had to be out of the Capitol before this announcement, otherwise there would be no reason for her to go. There would be no wedding now.
Finally it dawned on her, Plutarch had sent her because of this announcement, because now two out of the three victors from District Twelve would become tributes once again.
Katniss had her mother, sister, cousins and Peeta for support. Peeta had Katniss. That left the only possible explanation. Plutarch had sent her here for Haymitch, so that he wouldn't be alone. With that Effie began pacing again.
The twelve hours that followed felt like an eternity, every moment that passed Effie found herself trying the supress the memories of watching Katniss and Peeta fighting for their lives in the arena. And Haymitch! What if Haymitch was sent back there? Effie bit her lip, she wasn't sure what would happen if he was sent back into the arena, what she did know was that he would not cope.
Eventually the train pulled into District Twelve. Effie put on a thick coat and scarf and changed into more practical shoes as the peacekeepers disembarked. By the time she was ready they were all but gone, only their boot prints in the snow showed in which direction they had headed.
It took her a few minutes to get her bearings in the blizzard that continued to fall. Eventually Effie recognised the Justice Building through the gloom, and hastened towards the Victors Village. The uneven gravel pathway proved much easier to negotiate than it looked as it was the only surface not covered in sheet ice, meaning that Effie managed to reach Haymitch's house in less than five minutes.
Effie raised her hand to knock on the front door but realised as she did so that Haymitch would have passed out drunk by now. Trying the handle she found it to be, mercifully, unlocked. She took a deep breath of fresh air before stepping over the threshold. However, the smell of vomit, alcohol and filth that she'd long since come to expect from Haymitch's home never came. In its place was the welcoming smell of pine, and flowers.
The explanation for this anomaly then came walking down the stairs. A woman Effie had met briefly at the end of the victory tour, Hazell Hawthorn. However her reason for being there puzzled Effie and caused a burning feeling that she didn't like at all, in the pit of her stomach, why was she jealous of this woman?
"Miss Trinket, this is a surprise!"
Effie composed herself quickly "I'm sorry I didn't think that Haymitch would have company."
Hazell smiled. "Hardly company, Miss Trinket." She picked up a basket of laundry from the side table which Effie hadn't noticed up until then, "Katniss decided that enough was enough and hired me as Haymitch's housekeeper." She sighed, "I think she likes to know he isn't living in squalor, and he that he's getting decent meals."
Effie nodded smiling, "He never has had a particularly good grasp on domesticity."
Hazell laughed, "You're right there, I don't know how you manage with him every year, but he always seems well turned out and, not exactly sober, but more so than normal and certainly more so than now!" She gave Effie a sad little smile "I should be getting back, I'll have one of the boys bring some food over for you later." With that she was gone, leaving Effie to contemplate the mess that was her thoughts.
Dropping her overnight bag on the side table which had previously held the laundry Effie proceeded to climb the stairs. Her first priority, as always, was Haymitch. She found him sprawled across his bed. His shoes, which he'd obviously been wearing when he'd collapsed, had marked the bed spread.
After confirming that he was breathing, Effie hunted through the bedding for the knife that was never far away from him when he slept. After finding it under a pillow she went back downstairs, and dumped it in the kitchen sink.
While in the kitchen, Effie filled a glass with cold water and picked up an empty bucket from beside the back door, she had enough experience with Haymitch to know the drill. Picking up a book from her bag on the way back through the house she made her way back to Haymitch. She doubted she'd settle to read it at all, but she wouldn't sleep either, so something to do might help on this long night.
Effie set the water down on the bedside table and placed the bucket at the side of the bed. She untied the laces on Haymitch's shoes and removed them. There was nowhere for her to sit in his room so she sat beside him on the bed, rested her back against the headboard and opened the book.
It was called Slaves of the Mastery, something Effie was finding increasingly ironic in light of the Victory Tour. It was an old book, written long before Panem in somewhere called Great Britain, a place she supposed, in a world at war, had been lost forever.
After a while Effie's concentration ebbed, to the point where she had read the same page at least five times without taking in a single word of it. Eventually she gave up and watched Haymitch instead.
Over the few years where she had worked with Haymitch, Effie had noticed a pattern emerge in his behaviour. Although he was rarely sober, it was just as uncommon for him to be this drunk.
Reaping days were always bad, so even when he'd made a pass at her and fallen off the stage at the last one, she'd forgiven him. But even reaping days bore no comparison to the day after the games, when they travelled back to district twelve. Whenever they had lost tributes, Haymitch would always manage to hold it together. Effie had suspected for a long time now that this was mainly for her benefit. But the prospect of facing the tributes families always drove him over the edge.
Haymitch grumbled in his sleep, Effie brushed his hair away from his forehead, noticing as she did so how cold he was. He flinched and his eyes opened, brow furrowed he murmured. "Effie?"
The look on his face brought tears to her eyes, she took his hand into her own. "I'm here, I've got you."
"Cold." He mumbled.
"Here." As Effie pulled the quilt over him he clutched at her hand.
"Stay please." Haymitch never said please.
"Of course I'll stay." She intended to continue sitting with her back to the headboard, but he refused to let go of her, forcing her to climb into bed beside him.
Slaves of the Mastery had become lodged between them. Effie picked it up, but before she could discard it on the bedside table, Haymitch asked her to read to him.
Effie turned to the page she'd had such trouble with before. It contained the vow of betrothal for the people of Aramanth, she began to read.
"Today begins my walk with you.
Where you go, I go.
Where you stay, I stay.
Where you sleep, I will sleep.
When you rise, I will rise.
I will spend my days within sound of your voice.
And my nights within the reach of your hand.
And none shall come between us.
This I vow."
"None shall come between us." Haymitch muttered sleepily, and then he began to snore.
Effie realised she must have fallen asleep, as when she next opened her eyes it was getting dark outside, and the bed beside her was empty.
She had sat up and was rubbing the sleep from her eyes when Haymitch walked in, looking far too alert for someone who had drank as much as he had.
"Where have you been?" She asked, noticing the snow on his boots.
"The train station, there won't be a wedding now, so you have no reason to stay here, the next train leaved at 9am tomorrow, it's imperative that you're on board."
Haymitch paused for a long time. "I spoke to Plutarch, thank you for coming, it means a lot that you care."
His words alone were enough to burn away what remained of her short fuse and before she knew it she was on her feet and had thrown her book at him, a loose page fluttered to the ground. The vow of betrothal.
"You know damn well that I care Haymitch Abernathy! That I've always cared! And now…. now…."
Effie began to break down. "Katniss, the girl who I love as though she is my own daughter, is going back into the arena. And then I have to pick out the name of the other person I will have to say goodbye to. Either the boy who is like a son to me, or the man I've fallen in love with!"
She sobbed rocking backwards and forwards on the bed. "And it kills me Haymitch! It kills me!"
In the weeks that followed between that night and the reaping Effie could never remember how he had come to put his arms around her as she'd sobbed. But she remembered that hers were not the only tears.
Nor could she remember how they had come to kiss, or how they had later found themselves tangled together between the bed sheets.
But she could remember the conversation that followed.
"Haymitch I can't do it, I can't do that reaping." Her voice shook.
Haymitch planted a soft kiss on her forehead. "Please, Ef, for me?"
"But what if it's your name, how can it be better, if it's me picking it?"
He paused. "Because I couldn't bare it to be a stranger, just another Capitol face who wouldn't care."
Effie took a deep shuddering breath and nodded. "Okay."
Taking her in his arms again he kissed her with a tenderness she would never have believed him to possess.
"Thank you. And remember, Princess, whose ever name you pick, this is not your fault. Be brave, Ef, be brave for me."
That was exactly what Effie did on the reaping day. She was brave.
No tears, she reminded herself. No one else was allowed to see beyond the mask.
She nearly pulled it off as well. But for a stumble when she read his name.
"H…Haymitch Abernathy."
A/N: Apologies for the slight delay with this, work got in the way a bit today. Thank you for the kind reviews, I hope you're still enjoying the story. The vow of Betrothal does come from the book Slaves of the Mastery, which is the second book in the Wind on Fire trilogy by William Nicholson. They're wonderful reads and I highly recommend them especially to anyone who is a fan of the hunger games. There's only one part left and I shall post it around this time tomorrow. Please read and respond. Thanks.
