In the February snow walked a heavily pregnant, unrecognisable Effie Trinket. She could have been a District girl. Her hair hung messily down her face, and she wore a large grey coat. She'd told no one she was coming, not even Haymitch. She had no means to contact him, as the president kept restricting every form of contact they had. She arrived at his door, truly exhausted. "H... Haymitch." She panted, pressed against the door.
Almost immediately, the victor opened it and caught her. The night was freezing, she was practically ice. He carried her inside carefully, and laid her down beside the fire. "Are you alright?" He asked carefully, wrapping a blanket around her and kissing her temple. His hands shook as they brushed over her bump, so he rested one there and felt his daughter kick for the first time. Haymitch couldn't help but smile.
"A little cold, and that train was disgusting, but I'll surely get over it. I should go into labour soon, probably over the next few days." Effie said, lying back and wincing in pain, one hand on her stomach, panting. "I'm exhausted, I do apologise. Pillow, please." She said, wincing again. As he placed a pillow under her head, he watched her, shaking his head.
"Princess, I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure this is labour." Haymitch said, biting his lip. "Wait here, sweetheart, I'll go get someone." He said, pressing a kiss to her lips gently, then one to her stomach.
Minutes later, an exasperated Haymitch returned with Mrs. Everdeen, a very qualified healer, who had only given birth to her second child a month previous. "Maybe our girls can be friends, Miss Trinket." She said as she sat down beside Effie, checking her over. Haymitch looked through her bag and found her morphling, filling the syringe then injecting Effie with it, kissing her hair. He stayed by her face, trying to keep her calm. It didn't work too well, if he was honest, but it could have been worse.
An hour or so later, there was a shrill cry, and a baby sat in Mrs. Everdeen's arms. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." Haymitch repeated, to Mrs. Everdeen, to Effie and to perhaps fate its self. He took the baby and cleaned her, smiling at her beautiful little face. She was placed on Effie's chest, and Effie put a hand on her daughter.
From the second the baby touched her, Effie did nothing but silently cry. She cried and cried and cried repeatedly. She wanted to be here, in Twelve with Haymitch and their child. She wanted her family, but Snow would never allow that. All she had was now. The woman had a photo taken with her family, by Mrs. Everdeen, and spent the night with Haymitch and the baby, learning how to feed her carefully, laughing with Haymitch about the beautiful child they'd created, and thinking sadly about how soon she'd be put into the Games. "Cassia. Cassia Abernathy." Effie whispered, just as the three were falling asleep.
"That's perfect." Haymitch said, smiling gently and kissing Effie's lips. "I love her, princess, I promise, I will love her."
"I know you will, and I wish I could." Murmured Effie, enjoying the dying hours of her only night of being part of this family.