Prompt : I would like to request a prompt: I know you've recently written about a 15 year old Oria; however, my prompt would be for when she was 7 and it was her birthday. So, Hayffie threw a birthday party for her and Haymitch had to dress up like a fairy princess- got this idea from the beginning of Despicable me 2. Thank you XD
This is crack. Utter crack. XD
The Fairy-Princess
"This is a catastrophe!" Effie's voice exclaimed from the kitchen, breaking the nice bubble of silence Haymitch had found in his living-room. He immediately bolted off the couch and pretended to be looking around for something – because if the former escort caught him hiding inside when there were a dozen or so kids in the backyard, she would probably have killed him.
Oria's seventh birthday party was just as smashing as any party Effie had ever organized. There was a bouncing castle, a magician, more ice cream than was reasonable, too many presents in his opinion, and a lot of sugar-pumped children running amok, screaming, wailing and running after each other. Haymitch had developed a headache after barely five minutes.
"Calm down, Trinket." Johanna's voice spat. "So what? She won't have a fairy-princess… That's not the end of the world."
"But you don't understand… She was looking forward so much to the fairy-princess…" Effie's voice grew closer and, surely enough, the two women appeared in the living-room. "Oh, here you are, Haymitch… You will never believe this! The fairy-princess cancelled. No warning at all!"
Effie was obviously fuming and Haymitch almost felt bad for the person who would certainly experience her wrath the next day when she would be free to rant and threaten to sue for bad customer service. On the other hand, he was sharing her frustration. The bouncy castle, magician and ice-cream stand had been Effie's idea, all Oria had asked for was the fairy-princess.
She had outgrew the "princesses are stupid" phase and was now very enamored with the idea of fairy-princesses, hunter-princesses and anything-princesses really. She was never as happy as when she could play with her princess doll and its princess outfits.
The solution however seemed obvious to him. "Why don't you do it?"
"Me?" Effie chuckled. "That's a very nice thought, Haymitch, but who will watch the children? I cannot play the princess and make sure everything runs smoothly and I highly doubt you will want to be in charge of fifteen children."
His grey eyes fell on Johanna who immediately lifted her hands in a defensive gesture.
"Hell, no!" the former victor spat. "I came for your daughter's birthday not to remember what it feels to be dressed and paraded around like a fucking piece of meat. Ask Annie."
Except Annie had left little Finn at the party and had run away with Katniss and Peeta at the earliest opportunity – they were supposedly gone to get the cake but Haymitch had his doubts. It didn't take an hour to get a cake from a fifteen minutes walk bakery. He rather thought they had seen the number of kids, had been scared and had fled the scene.
"Annie isn't available." Effie sighed, walking to the window to peer in the garden. "We can't let them unsupervised for too long… Well, I suppose we will have to pass on the fairy-princess. Oria is going to be so disappointed…"
Haymitch's shoulders sagged as if he had personally let his daughter down. Of course, that didn't prevent him from feeling Johanna's calculating gaze on him nor to glimpse the spark of mischief in there.
He opened his mouth to tell her to shut up before she could say something she would regret but it was already too late.
"Haymitch can do it." Johanna suggested. "A wig, some pink fabric, a lot of make-up… Who would see the difference?"
"Jo…" he growled, waiting for Effie to tell her off about wasting her time.
He didn't like the appraising way his wife was looking at him all of a sudden.
"No bloody way, sweetheart!" he swore.
Of course, swearing only got him that far because the second she pointed out how delighted Oria would be to have a fairy-princess after all, he was gone. He would do anything to see his daughter's eyes spark with happiness.
Johanna was tasked with the mission to watch the kids while Effie transformed him into a fairy-princess – how she was going to do that, he didn't know, but she had worked miracles before.
She grabbed a pink tablecloth – the one Haymitch had purposely shoved at the bottom of the drawer – and forced it on him, her scissors and needles dancing left and right. She cut and sew so fast he was half afraid he would never be able to get out of there. When she was done with the basic dress – a dress, that was what he had come down to – she stole some of Oria's glitter and generously tossed that on him until he was sure he would cough glitter for the rest of his life. Never mind how long it would remain stuck to his skin.
She found an old wig of hers and put it on his head along with Oria's doll's plastic tiara, securing it with so much pins and hairspray, he was also certain he would be sentenced to walk around with purple glittering hair all his life. As for the make-up…
"I think you're having a little too much fun." he grumbled, spying the grin she was failing to hide.
"My apologies." she giggled, applying a large dose of lipstick on his lips. "There. You look dashing, Princess."
"You're having the time of your life, aren't you?" He rolled his eyes.
"To be honest, yes." The giggles turned into outright chuckles when she finally allowed him to see his reflection in the mirror.
He looked like a giant man wearing too much make-up, a wig and a huge pink dress – without mentioning the glitter.
"My virility just died." he deadpanned.
Effie's lips were pursed tight, probably in an effort not to laugh. "I think you look very pretty, dear. Very… Princess-like. Now, you need to do the voice. We can't have a fairy-princess talking like a caveman."
"That would be unique. No one could beat that." he snorted, staring at his disguise in horror. "Sweetheart, there's no way I'm going out in public wearing that."
"Of course you are, our daughter is waiting for it." she replied, neatly putting her sewing supplies away. "Besides, the kids won't recognize you and if my suspicions are right Annie and the children won't come back until it's actually time for cake."
The glitter was absolutely blinding him.
"Hey!" Johanna's voice called from down the stairs. It wasn't long before it was followed by stomping and her appearance. "Oria wants to know when the fairy-princess… Oh, fuck!" Seven's victor dissolved into cackles. She slid against the wall until she was sitting on the floor, holding her side.
He glanced at Effie. "I'm not going."
"Of course, you are." she shushed him, nudging him toward the door. "Oria is waiting. Never mind Johanna, you know how rude she is…" She dragged him all the way to the backdoor and then paused, fussing with the collar of the dress, the wig and the tiara. "Now, remember to use your princess voice."
"I don't have a princess voice." he growled, eyeing her suspiciously. "No pictures."
She agreed to that one all too easily. He should have known better.
On retrospect, walking out in the sun was the easy part. Being assaulted by very excited little girls begging for a story wasn't that bad – he envied the boys who all declared wholeheartedly that fairy-princesses were stupid and that they would go play in the bouncy castle. Actually getting the children to sit and listen to a fairy tale he knew by heart thanks to countless bedtimes stories – and he spared a second to wonder how his life had come to this – wasn't difficult.
The very difficult part was when Effie stopped flashing her camera to greet their newly returned friends and the surprise they were bringing with them. The surprise was Plutarch, his arms full of presents wrapped in glossy paper and Beetee who had a small square pink box on his knees. Annie, who was pushing his wheelchair, stopped dead in her tracks when she caught sight of Haymitch. Johanna was so far gone she was leaning against the geese pen to stay upright and Katniss soon joined in her hilarity, followed by Annie. Peeta, Beetee and Plutarch had the tact to purse their lips real tight and not to show how amused they were.
Haymitch announced the cake, relieved to see his hour as an actor come to a close, and watched the children scatter away to the big table on which Peeta was busy displaying the beautiful cake shaped like a castle. Effie went almost crazy with the camera, forcing Oria to pose in front of it alone, then with Peeta, then with Katniss and Peeta… It would have gone on forever if Johanna hadn't declared that cake was made to be eaten and not admired.
He was about to sneak inside the house unseen when he felt someone tug on the hem of his tablecloth dress. He looked down at Finn who, from all of his nine years of age, seemed very puzzled.
"Uncle Haymitch, why are you wearing a dress?" the boy asked, eyes wide.
"Because your aunt Effie is a witch." he replied, forgetting the "princess-voice".
He seemed to accept that at face value because he shrugged and ran to the cake distribution, leaving Haymitch free to run inside the house. He had barely opened the tap to wash the make-up off his face when the backdoor opened again and he was attacked by a surprise tackle. It was experience alone that allowed him to catch the little girl who had flung herself at him.
"I'm very sorry but I have to leave now." he told the child, in his best imitation of Effie's voice.
"I know it's you, Daddy!" Oria giggled, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you!"
He thought about the tauntings he would have to bear from Plutarch and the rest of the victors and sighed deeply. "Anything for you, baby girl."
She wriggled until he let her down and grabbed his hand to try and drag him outside. "Cake, now!"
"I need to change first." he told her.
"But cake." she argued, as if it was enough of a reason. "And all the presents!"
She was so happy she clapped her hands together several times in a demonstration of sheer glee. He couldn't help a smirk. She was too cute. She was the cutest child ever and she was his.
"Run ahead." he said, nudging her to the door. "I will be right there."
She didn't need to be told twice.
Of course, "right there" was a bit of an overconfident statement. He had to rip the makeshift dress to get out of it – at least he wouldn't have to worry about eating on a pink tablecloth again – and despite the numerous application of water, the glitter wouldn't go away. It was everywhere, on his skin, in his hair, on his face…
And that was without mentioning the state of their bedroom floor because it hadn't escaped the glitter attack.
"I saved you some cake." Effie told him, leaning against the bathroom doorframe. "Oria wants to open her presents now. Could you come down?"
"Yeah, yeah…" he grumbled, trying and failing again to get rid of the damned glitter. His skin was pink from all the scrubbing.
"You make a wonderful princess by the way." she teased. "I'm impressed. How is your virility faring?"
"I will show you tonight." he winked, giving up on the glitter, to face her.
An amused smile was tugging at her lips. "Good because Annie offered to take Oria at the inn for a sleepover with Finn… We could… have a date."
"I'm covered in glitter." he snorted. "You're not getting me out of the house."
She advanced on him like a predator who was playing with its prey, swaying her hips. He gave in the kiss willingly, thinking, in the back of his head, that now she would be covered in glitter too.
"I never said I wanted to get out of the house." she whispered against his lips. "Actually… I'm planning on making the most of having the house entirely to ourselves."
"I like how you think, sweetheart." he smirked.
The prospect was so enticing he barely even heard his friends' teasing about how pink suited him or what a wonderful fairy he made.
He only had eyes for Effie.