Chapter 52 : Whatever The Cost
Chaff Mitchell was the best friend one could ask for…
Haymitch's grey eyes darted away from the small card, resting on every piece of furniture in their compartment instead of on the words written in Effie's flowery handwriting. Eventually, at long last, they fell on her. From his position lying on the bed, he had a good view of her. She was sitting at her dressing table, her blond hair pinned up in one of those quick-made distracted buns that left a few strands curling along her otherwise bare nape… She was still wearing her pink silky jumpsuit and that belt made of golden coins that clang together every time she moved. She was scribbling on her notepad, sometimes cross-referencing with one of the numerous sheets of paper spread in front of her…
He wasn't sure if she was checking schedules or working on more speeches.
He had left her in charge of that, deciding that she had done a good job at writing speeches that didn't scream rebellion the previous year. They needed to promote Panem unity still, to put the stress on the Capitol's generosity… It made him sick to his stomach but that was how it had to be.
She had her own role to play in that anyway. She was delegating, he had noticed that morning, when they had gotten ready to shoot what would essentially be the Tour's launch. Alys had apparently taken the role of a glorified assistant. He wasn't sure how the former singer felt about that but she had yet to complain. The girl seemed too much in awe of being there to complain anyway. Trust the Gamemakers to pick up naïve drones who believed in the glory of the Capitol and admired victors like the heroes they were supposed to be.
Effie couldn't be behind the camera crew staff or on the prep team's back as much as she would have liked – and how happy he had been to see his old friend Coralus again, if he lived through that Tour without punching the man Haymitch would declare himself lucky – because she had to be there with him. It wasn't quite a star-crossed lovers act they were playing and it couldn't be like Katniss and Peeta the previous year. It had to be subtler, more natural.
He had gotten out of his house alone, for instance, looking overjoyed with the prospect of the Tour. He had clasped Peeta's shoulder with enthusiasm when he had met the boy in the Village's streets, they had exchanged a few words… He had shaken Undersee's hand, had received the Mayor's congratulations and good wishes for the trip…
They were supposed to do a quick sweep around Twelve, his favorite spots, a few anecdotes… That had been when Effie had walked on stage, looking radiant in that silky pink jumpsuit thing – because, according to Harwyn her outfit at the Crowning had apparently launched a trend – and her fur coat. She had mostly chided him so he would remain on tracks and not ramble on about something that would be considered boring for a Capitol audience. The banter was what people would want to see anyway.
He had stolen a kiss at some point, pretending to try and be sneaky about it, pretending he didn't intend at all for the cameras to catch it…
The relief he had felt once they were all on the train and on their way to Eleven had been short lived.
First, Effie had insisted on briefing them all in the living-room. She had distributed schedules and had made a quick summary of what to expect in the following weeks – she, he and Peeta were all well experienced in that by then but Harwyn and the new escort weren't. By the time she had been done ranting about security details, schedules and what she expected of each of them, Haymitch had been craving a strong drink. She lectured Peeta at length because he would have to be seen with various mentors and should, she insisted, stress at any opportunity how much he was still grieving Katniss – that was actually his idea, to make the boy less appealing to any grabby Capitol.
Then, she had turned to him and he hadn't really needed her to tell him how he was supposed to act or how exactly she fitted in the picture but he had figured it had more to do with keeping the others in the loop. He and Effie were so gifted at reading each other they didn't always discuss things out loud because it was obvious to them.
Alys had seemed pleasantly surprised at being given responsibilities – small things like making sure Peeta knew the names of the victors they would meet in each District or helping Effie check on the rest of the staff, prep teams and cameras crew, so they wouldn't slack on the job. Haymitch wasn't sure how he felt about the new escort yet, he tended to dismiss and ignore her, resentful of anyone who would take Effie's place. Peeta had been a bit cautious around her but friendly for the most part, which seemed to have sent the girl in hysterics because she was apparently his biggest fan.
Harwyn had been told he needed to present every of Haymitch's outfits to her for approval – which, admittedly, hadn't pleased the stylist at all but he had grumbled his assent all the same.
It had been a long briefing and dinner had been a welcomed distraction. At least until the silence at the table had become far too uncomfortable. Haymitch had been trying hard not to compare it to the previous year, to the easy conversations, to Cinna, Portia and Katniss… At long last, Effie had remarked on the weather, something Alys had jumped on with apparent relief and the Capitols had kept on most of the chatter from then on.
Peeta had remained silent.
Haymitch had pretended he couldn't see the resentful glares the boy was sending him.
Everyone had wandered their own way as soon as dessert had been cleared. Effie had begged off to check they were still on schedule and Haymitch had gone back to their room, knowing he needed to do his homework.
He had read the part of the speech about Seeder three times and had it memorized well enough that he wouldn't need to stare at the cards the next day. Chaff now…
Chaff Mitchell was the best friend one could ask for…
He didn't think Seeder had any family but Chaff… How was he supposed to look his sister in the eyes when he was the one who had killed her brother? How was he supposed to stand there and call Chaff his best friend when it was his knife that had ended his life?
He could feel it still. The weight of Eleven's victor in his arms as he fell.
"Say, you fancy a bath?" he heard himself ask.
Effie looked up at him in the mirror, blinking a little. "A bath." she repeated, glancing back at whatever it was she was doing.
"Yeah." he shrugged. "We could share."
She watched him for a few seconds and then fought a smile. "You are aware you are allowed to take a bath without me, right?"
But he never did. Cause she had the good stuff that relaxed muscles and it was one thing to climb in a bathtub full of girly perfumed things with her but it was completely another to do it by himself. He hadn't been in the Capitol for long enough that he thought it okay to soak in pink water that smelt of cotton-candy by himself yet.
"It's only fun if you're in the tub, sweetheart." he lied.
She pursed her lips a little in a way that told him she knew exactly what he was thinking but she abandoned her papers to stand up. "As long as you take those cards with you and learn your speech…"
He tried to focus on the words while she got the bathroom ready but the part about Chaff refused to sink in.
Chaff Mitchell was the best friend one could ask for…
It wasn't a really long passage of the speech. He supposed she had kept it short on purpose. Instructions as to what they should say about fallen victors had been vague. Pay tribute, Heavensbee had told her, but don't wallow. It was a good compromise of that. But it was still too personal, too close, too…
She walked out of the bathroom, make-up free, and tossed the golden belt on the stool in front of her dressing table before coming to stand next to the bed, her back turned to him, her meaning clear. He discarded the cards to the side and sat up with his legs on either side of her to unzip the jumpsuit, pressing a distracted kiss at the small of her back while he was at it. He also unclasped her bra but he didn't try to take it further.
The day had been too long and he wasn't really in the mood for that.
She placed the jumpsuit in the clothes hamper and sauntered back in the bathroom naked as the day she was born, making him snort at her lack of reserve. He liked that, in truth. He was slower in getting out of his clothes. The jacket and the waistcoat, he had gotten rid of as soon as they had been back on the train, but the shirt asked him for focus because his fingers weren't quite steady.
By the time he joined her in the bathroom, with the speech he needed to learn, she was already lounging in the bath. The water was a bright turquoise blue and it smelled of some flower he couldn't put a name on. She leaned forward long enough for him to sit behind her.
The bathtub wasn't as spacious as the one at her place or at the penthouse but they made it work. She leaned against his chest, between his legs, and he wrapped an arm around her waist, holding up the cards with his free hand.
For a moment he pretended to read the speech but every time he got to that sentence…
Chaff Mitchell was the best friend one could ask for…
"Walk me through the schedule again." he requested, not quite managing to keep the nervousness out of his voice.
"We should arrive around ten in the morning." she said immediately, good enough not to remind him she had been distributing code-colored schedules earlier that day. "We will all get ready, you particularly. Speeches are scheduled for noon. Hopefully there won't be any… incidents this time and it should be wrapped in thirty minutes. You will have a quick lunch with Eleven's victors who will then take you on a tour of the District. It will be short. A stroll through the orchards, the sampling of a few fruits – it would be good for you to hand me one at that point so I can exclaim about how much we love Eleven's fruits in the city and how grateful we are for the labor they're doing here – then some children will come fetch you and explain to you how it all works. It shall all be very charming. Peaceful. After that, we will go back to the Justice Building to change for the evening. The mayor will do a short speech, you will thank him for his hospitality and then… Well, I trust you to behave during dinner. After that we will come back on the train and we will leave for Ten around one in the morning."
He closed his eyes and let his head rest against the edge of the tub.
He had done all of that once already. The Tour was always more or less the same, aside from the previous year. He figured if they were back to touring the Districts, it meant that the riots had really been crushed. He didn't know how he felt about that. Without Thirteen's support it was a lost cause and would have only led to people dying in vain but…
And the orchards… How was he supposed to stroll in the orchards where Katniss had been killed?
"What about the families?" he asked.
"The families will be present for the speeches." she told him even though he knew that. He was behaving like a new victor instead of a seasoned one. He knew all that. He knew everything there was to know. "I can probably arrange a meeting if you so wish. I would advise against channeling your inner Peeta and going rogue by offering half your rations." It was a joke but it wasn't very funny and she grew serious very quick. "More generally, Haymitch, stick to the cards. I mean it."
The warm water and whatever bath salts she had put in it were slowly making his muscles relax but he still couldn't shake the tension. "What if I choke?"
That was the worst thing that could happen.
He was a Quell victor – two times Quell victor. He was the new Capitol darling. He was supposed to be a paragon of strength, the Districts' champion. If he faltered…. If he showed weakness… If he hinted he wasn't as grateful or happy with the Capitol as he pretended to be… If they smelt the blood… He didn't want to become the new Mockingjay. He didn't want to become the new martyr the Districts would rally around. He didn't want to be responsible for more senseless death.
"Read the speech to me." she suggested. "Read it until you can say it without any hesitation."
So he did.
And every time he came to the part about Chaff, his throat closed and it was impossible to hide the emotion in his voice. It made him angry and frustrated.
"It isn't a bad thing." she promised, running her nails up and down his forearm in something that shouldn't have been as soothing as it was. "Everyone knows you and Chaff were close. It would seem far more suspicious if you didn't show any emotion. Just… Make sure you are in control. If you feel it is too much, pause and breathe."
Pause and breathe.
"I want you with me." he said. "Up there on that stage. I… I want you with me."
She winced, straining her neck to look at him. "I need to be backstage with Peeta. I cannot trust him to handle everything on his own. It is only his first year as a mentor and…"
"He and that singer need to learn anyway." he shrugged. "You can make sure she knows what to do. It's good. This way we'll see if we can trust her to do something right."
"Alys is really not the worst replacement they could have chosen." Effie sighed, a little chiding. She had taken a liking to the girl, he had noticed. "They could have sent another Viola, you know."
He made a face. "Oh, shit, is that bitch gonna be there?"
Escorts didn't always make the trip to their respective District for the Tour, they only did on orders mostly, when Games had been particularly successful and everything needed to go without a hitch.
"It is likely, yes." she grumbled. "This is a Quell Tour after all. They will want everything supervised. I will have to coordinate with her at some point." She let out a long suffering sigh and sank further down until her chin was right over the water line. "Wouldn't it defy the purpose anyway? If I stand there with you… Wouldn't it look like the Capitol is breathing over your shoulder?"
"You're not the Capitol, you're my wife." he scoffed. Not that they knew that. He rolled his eyes. "Girlfriend. Whatever they call it."
He hated it when they called her his girlfriend. They weren't sixteen years old to call each other girlfriend and boyfriend.
"I am also your escort." she objected. "And I do not think we should take that sort of initiatives. There is a protocol, we should follow it."
She was right probably.
But…
"I'm gonna choke." he muttered, fatalistic. He just knew it.
"No, you won't." she coaxed, reaching behind her for his neck. He kissed the inside of her wrist just because it was close to his face. "You are used to this, Haymitch. It is no different than going on Caesar's show and talking about our dead tributes. It is no different than the countless red carpets you went to. It is no different than waving and smiling for the cameras outside the Center."
But it was.
Because there were no more friends to make fun of it with afterwards, to make less a big deal of it than it was.
And it was their blood on his hands.
"It'd be easier if you were with me." he sulked. "You're good at stealing the spotlight."
"And I will gladly steal it as much as I can to spare you during the rest of the day but I am afraid for the speeches you have to be on your own." she said gently. "If worse comes to worse, simply read. Do not look up, do not look at anyone, just read."
He shook his head. "It needs to be genuine."
"Do not worry." she tried to reassure him.
"It's not me I'm worried about." he snapped. It was her who would pay the price if someone got it into their head to attack a Peacekeeper in his name. Or if she went around punching more Peacekeepers… He tossed the cards aside and cradled her injured hand in his. She had renounced wearing the bandage that morning, claiming it dampened her style. She was avoiding using her thumb but he didn't think it was serious. "Don't do anything reckless, yeah? Best behavior, Effie. Promise me."
"That you would request that of me is laughable." she snorted but rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't be able to hit anyone else with that hand anyway, do not fret. It was just that man… He irked me so. From the very first time I saw him…" She shook her head. "He whipped you."
She rarely stated it so plainly. There was so much pure hatred in her voice… It contrasted with the love she always showed when she kissed his scars.
"We don't go for revenge." he told her seriously. "We can't afford it. We stay alive. That's all we can do. We stay alive. We keep the boy alive and as safe as we can. We stay alive. Whatever the cost."
They had gone too far now.
They might as well go to the end of the road.
She rested her head more firmly against his chest. "Rehearse the speech again."
He let out a deep breath but started talking anyway, reciting most of it from memory, making up what he was forgetting.
He would need to get it right the next day.
He didn't have a choice.
He had to get through it.
"Chaff Mitchell was the best friend one could ask for…" he gritted through clenched teeth.
… and Chaff Mitchell would have kicked his ass if he ever got his girl killed just because he couldn't say Eleven's victor's name without flinching in guilt and sorrow.
Will he choke? Will they manage to keep everyone safe? Will this Tour be a success? Will Haymitch ever admits he likes a good bath? Let me know your thoughts!
