It was a strange atmosphere as the victors waited to be sent to their chariots. Old friends were conversing, old alliances re-forged. Haymitch would have to get to work quickly.
Katniss was trying to avoid everyone, in her usual style, but she should know better. She was a mystery to most of these people, and though they didn't want to admit it – an icon. Most of them had won their Games through brutality or sheer fluke, but she had manipulated the gamemakers, and every victor here knew of her significance to the rebellion.
After only a few minutes, Finnick Odair was approaching, and the girl eyed his half naked body like she thought he might bite. Costume or no costume, that girl was innocent-minded for sure. It was strange that someone who could overcome the horrors of the game would be so uncomfortable about a bit of skin.
Haymitch spotted Peeta further away, talking to some of the other mentors. A couple of them were even as young as the boy was. He turned his own attention to the District 11 tributes, Chaff and Seeder.
"Haymitch, my friend!" Chaff explained, grabbing him by the arms for a moment before Seeder gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I almost didn't recognise you!"
He snorted. "That's probably because those kids have forced me to stay sober. Mostly sober."
"Wise kids," Seeder observed. "You'll need your wits about you in the arena. I don't think that was what Chaff meant though. Your stylists have done a good job."
Haymitch glanced down. He was just wearing a simple black jumpsuit, nothing obviously flashy. Portia had said to wait until they were on the chariot before switching them on. They were also to look aloof and disdainful of the crowds, which he figured both of them could manage perfectly. He imagined the crowns probably helped. His was engraved to remind them that he was the winner of the last Quell, while Katniss had a wreath of metal flames.
"You look years younger," Chaff said, nodding.
Oh, the make-up. He knew the prep team had covered his face in various creams. Portia had forbidden them from surgically making him appear younger – though he wouldn't have let them try it – but make up was deemed acceptable. At least he could wash that off at the end of the night. With his face covered in make-up and his hair swept back so it didn't fall in his face, he supposed he must look more striking than usual.
"No fire this year?" Seeder asked.
"No. I guess someone realised fire and alcohol don't mix," Haymitch replied, and Chaff burst into a laugh.
"Certainly better than some of these outfits, I look as though I've been rolling in the fields." The other man gestured to his weird suit of wheat, which make him look like an aging scarecrow. Seeder's wheat dress looked a little more distinguished, but that might just be the woman's naturally dignified presence.
"I'm just glad we're not naked and smothered in coal," Haymitch replied.
"Same here, with only a few well-placed sheafs of wheat to hide my modesty," Chaff said.
"What modesty?" Both men dissolved into self-deprecating laughter.
"How is young Katniss holding up?" Seeder asked, turning the conversation to more serious matters.
Haymitch's smile faded as he eyed her, looking very uncomfortable in Finnick's company. Come on sweetheart, talk to him a bit, charm him. Trying to ask Katniss to charm someone was like asking Haymitch to give a motivational speech, so he didn't get his hopes up. Finnick would be a useful ally though – he was strong and magnetic.
"Holding up," he replied. "She still hasn't started to deal with her own Games, never mind this. And then there's everything else."
"She could have a better chance of surviving than some of us," Seeder noticed. "She is very popular in District 11, and the offer of food for our tributes' families was much appreciated. Even if they will never receive it." She watched Katniss sadly. "I knew Thresh and Rue. They were good children, and I had high hopes for their chances. I don't have high hopes for my own survival in the arena, but I would go more happily knowing that Katniss would live. That it would live."
The rebellion. "That's what I'm hoping too," Haymitch replied. "Especially now that Peeta's out of the way, he'll be able to do some good and make Katniss easier to manage. She doesn't know anything about it, of course. I've got some thoughts on that too, if you want to hear them later." Seeder nodded. "How about you, Chaff?"
"I haven't given up on my own chances yet, my friend," he replied with a chuckle, though it sounded forced. Seeder might have come to this prepared to make sacrifices, but Chaff seemed more reluctant. Haymitch understood that District 11 had suffered a lot more for its attempts at rebellion than District 12, but the reticence was still frustrating.
Katniss approached him, looking a little flustered, and Chaff took the opportunity to plant a kiss on her, laughing raucously at her reaction. Haymitch had to admit it has funny, the girl was way too easily embarrassed. She shot him a glower.
Seeder diffused the situation by giving her a compliment and a more polite kiss, answering the girl's whispered question about Thresh and Rue's families. Haymitch couldn't contain a grin. Sometimes the girl said just the right thing without even realising. If Seeder needed a sign that Katniss had the people of District 11 in her thoughts, there it was.
They were ushered off to their chariots, and Haymitch positioned himself next to Katniss. As he switched on his suit, she looked at him and gasped.
"Haymitch, you look like... Not like you at all!"
"Thanks for the compliment girlie." He mimicked her voice, "Wow Katniss, you look so pretty, that must be some costume!"
She rolled her eyes and switched on her own suit. The effect was instantaneous. The jumpsuit glowed like the embers in a hearth, and threw a serious, hard cast to her face. The make-up accentuated her high cheekbones and piercing eyes, making her look older. Haymitch just blinked, and she grinned – a strange expression on her otherworldly face.
"See?" she said in satisfaction, and nodded to the screens as their chariot rolled out. Katniss composed herself for the cameras, staring out over the crowd like they were slime on the bottom of her shoe.
Haymitch took a moment longer to prepare himself, but when he glanced up at the screens, he was met with a face he barely recognised. It looked like a combination of his younger handsome self, and a being that transcended humanity. Seeing it had a strange effect. Part of him knew that he was just the same old Haymitch, dressed up for the occasion. But another part felt invigorated, prouder.
He straightened his back, gripped the chariot and stared out over the crowds as Katniss was doing. Their already hard expressions were highlighted by the make-up and suits, making them look deadly. They didn't force themselves to hold hands, as she and Peeta would have done happily. There was no point. What looked good on a pair of teenagers wouldn't work with a girl and a middle-aged man. But the costumes and postures did it all for them.
The crowd were going wild, loving their disdain, and Haymitch fed everything angry thought he'd ever had about the Capitol into his haughty demeanour. For once, he could just be himself, not the wreck they had turned him into, not the fawning charmer his role as mentor forced him to be. He could be himself, and he loved it. At his side, he got the sense that Katniss loved it too.
...
Haymitch decided to give the equipment in the training centre a go while he was here, but it quickly became a little embarrassing. He avoided the knives, since he could no longer make a shot worth anything. The spears were a safer bet than swords, and he'd been comfortably practicing with one until Finnick approached and started giving him pointers.
It was galling to be told how to fight from a pretty boy who hadn't even been born when Haymitch had won his Games.
It seemed that Katniss was making friends with Mags, Nuts and Volts, which was just marvellous. She'd probably come back to him all 'I want them or no allies at all'. He sighed and cast his eyes on other potential allies. It wasn't that he disliked them, quite the opposite. District 3 were a smart pair, and responsible for a lot of recent improvements in technology. They could be a huge asset in the arena, but only in escaping. They were a bit emotionally unreliable, Wiress in particular had suffered a breakdown quite some time ago. He doubted Katniss was considering their tactical advantage though, just that she liked them as people.
"Seems like the ladies are making friends," Finnick noted, leaning on his spear and giving Haymitch a lazy smile. "Perhaps we should be doing the same thing."
"Isn't that what we already are doing?" he replied, gesturing at the weapons. "Stabbing dummies is what I do with my best friends."
"Should be useful, considering the amount of dummies in here," Finnick said with a chuckle. He eyed Haymitch thoughtfully. The younger man looked at everyone like that. Haymitch supposed that a lifetime of being whored out to the highest Capitol bidder left a person with one thing on their mind. Not that Finnick was as vain or single-minded as he pretended to be.
"I'm surprised you insisted on being a tribute," Finnick said. "I'd have thought you'd be happy to sit it out with a bottle of liquor and let the 'star-crossed lovers' chance it. After all, they got lucky once already."
"And look where that's gotten them," Haymitch said. "Besides, it's not like I'm the only mentor who wanted to keep one of their kids out of the arena. Or are you telling me you don't know why Mags volunteered for Annie Cresta?"
Finnick gave him a calculating look. "Mags is an incredibly selfless woman. It's not exactly surprising coming from her. While you..."
"Have been a miserable, grouchy drunk for years? Well maybe I'm turning over a new leaf."
Finnick narrowed his eyes before giving Haymitch a relaxed smile. "Maybe you have. Won't that be interesting."
The young man moved off, and Haymitch watched him go. He wasn't sure what to make of Finnick, whether he was a good bet for an ally or not. After all, he was technically a Career, but then so was Mags, and she was one of the best victors still left alive.
He decided to join Katniss and Mags as the old woman taught her how to make a good fish hook. Though a stroke a few years ago had rendered Mags' speech unintelligible, she and Katniss seemed to be getting along very well. It was a shame, really. In her prime, Mags would have been the best ally anyone could hope for, but now she'd just slow them down too much.
"Having fun?"
Katniss shrugged. "There's not that much point in training now, is there? We already know each others' strengths and weaknesses. Not much will change in the next few days."
She had a point. Their tribute-mentor strategy meetings didn't involve a lot of advice from Peeta. Mostly the three of them came up with ideas on how to survive, or Haymitch explained how mentoring worked.
"You're sure you know everyone's strengths and weaknesses?" he asked. When she nodded, he said: "Enobaria, tell me about her."
"She won her Games by tearing out a boy's throat with her teeth," Katniss replied. "She had her teeth altered to reflect it, and she loves the attention the Capitol gives her. Probably to the point she doesn't even know who she is without them anymore."
"Johanna Mason."
"Pretended to be weak until there were only a handful of tributes left. Then she got her hands on an axe and killed them all. She seems to be familiar with woodland, but no survival skills. Seems a little crazy." Katniss glanced over to where the other girl was wrestling someone and wrinkled her nose. "Loves getting naked and oiling up her breasts."
Haymitch chuckled. "Finnick Odair."
"A complete peacock who probably spends more time looking in the mirror than anything else. He had so many sponsors during his Games that it was almost easy for him, he didn't have to worry about surviving. Good swimmer. Plenty of lovers."
Haymitch snorted at the 'lovers' part. Katniss was one hell of a naive girl sometimes. Didn't it occur to her that if things had gone differently, people in the Capitol would be lining up for a piece of her too? In fact, that 'star-crossed lovers' deal had probably helped her in more ways than she realised. It was something he had never been forced to go through himself, but only because everyone he cared about had already been murdered to punish him for using the force fields. They had no leverage to force him into prostitution after that, and once alcohol abuse ravaged him, no one cared anymore.
"And he probably loves the Capitol as much as Enobaria does," Katniss added.
Mags had stopped her knots and fish hooks whilst Katniss listed her knowledge of Finnick, and shook her head now. She tapped the girl on the arm and gestured to where Finnick was talking with Johanna Mason. "Noizgudbo."
The girl blinked in confusion and Haymitch smiled. "Don't be offended Mags. Katniss here doesn't trust her own shadow."
The old woman smiled at her and patted Katniss' cheek. "Waryorfrends."
Katniss gave her a perplexed smile, and continued practicing her knots. Mags looked up at Haymitch and joined her wrinkled hands at the thumb, flapping the fingers in a synchronised motion that resembled a bird. A mockingjay?
She nodded back at where Finnick was stood and smiled, then turned back to helping with the knots. It started to dawn on Haymitch that Mags might be more useful than he'd realised. He'd underestimated the bond between her and her teammate. It seemed that he'd just gained two allies for himself and Katniss. Now he just needed to work on the rest.
...
Usually when Haymitch and Chaff got together, no beverage was safe. They'd raid entire bars and drink themselves into a stupor, only to awake with a storming hangover the next day. It seemed that the older he got, the worse the hangovers were.
With the Games looming close though, neither of them were drinking much now. Chaff never drunk as much near the Games anyway, since he seemed to take his role as mentor more seriously than anything else. Haymitch always thought it strange considering that Seeder was there to mentor instead, but since becoming attached to Katniss and Peeta, he understood it now.
They'd managed to restrain themselves to just a small bottle each. It wasn't even enough to get Haymitch tipsy, and he was trying to savour it as long as possible. His meeting with Chaff wasn't just for fun though. In the past couple of days, he'd managed to recruit Johanna Mason to the cause. She'd taken surprisingly little convincing, leading him to believe she was probably already an active member of the rebellion – she just couldn't openly admit it here. District 3 were also easy to convince, since they had already agreed to Katniss' request for an alliance.
Haymitch was determined to recruit Chaff though. He didn't want to oppose his old friend in the arena.
"I don't know which is more tragic," Chaff said, though his voice was remarkably light. "Me going into the arena against my old mentor, or you going up against a girl you just mentored."
"Who says we have to oppose each other?" Haymitch pointed out. "I'm fully intending to help Katniss in the arena, I didn't spend all of the last Game trying to keep her alive for nothing."
"What if she doesn't feel the same way?" the other man asked, pointing his bottle at Haymitch. "I saw the last Game, she seemed pretty quick to turn on Mellark when the gamemakers revoked their change. She could turn on you as easily."
"She never would have killed him," Haymitch said dismissively, though privately he wasn't so sure. "You also saw what she did for Rue, or heard about it. Besides, you aren't telling me that you and Seeder aren't going to be allies?"
Chaff shrugged. "She and I have some very different ideas on how to approach the Quell."
Haymitch could guess what that dispute was over, but he didn't probe. Instead, he said, "She's a good ally to have. But I don't know her like I do you. I want someone I can really trust on my side."
The other man laughed. "Two drunks on the same team, we'd be unstoppable! District 2 must be terrified."
That just earned a scowl from Haymitch, but he covered it up. "By the time we get in the arena, that won't be so much of a problem. We'll be able to function, at least. You're smart, or at least lucky – how else are you always beating me at cards?"
"Cards are one thing," Chaff replied, getting to his feet. "But the stakes here are too high. I know what you really want, Haymitch, and I'm sorry but I can't promise you it."
He turned and headed for the door.
"If you walk away, Rue and Thresh's deaths will have been for nothing," Haymitch said savagely.
Chaff regarded him sadly. "My friend, all the deaths have been for nothing."