Prompt: Hello. I completely fell in love with you hayffie fics :) and a particular one shot gave me an idea. So, prompt. You have a piece in which Effie gives Coin advice about her appearence. Can you do one where she actually follows it to some extent? And Hayffie reaction to that happening. Thanks)

The PR Consult

Effie was keeping busy.

With the fight having moved to the Capitol and the Star Squad gone – lost – resources had been redirected. Plutarch and Haymitch had been locked in Command for days, leaving her in charge of the propos the rebels drowned Panem under in a last attempt at convincing everyone in the Districts to riot and at encouraging the ones who already had.

The only victor left in Thirteen was Johanna and Jo deeply resented being denied the right to fight on the front lines with the others. Being without news from Finnick, knowing Annie was lying on a hospital bed somewhere, newly pregnant and mad with worry… It did nothing for either of them.

Effie had locked herself with Jo in the shooting studio, aware she was being a tyrant to Thirteen's staff, aware Johanna was behaving even worse than she was, aware of what the men and women in the propos shooting department were muttering behind their back… Capitol bitch… Victor slut… Traitors… Escort… So many slurs both she and Johanna withstood without a flinch…

They were at each other's throat.

But that was business as usual.

She had Jo recreating combat situations, addressing the audience, delivering speeches that she had meant for Katniss…

The propos weren't bad but nobody in that District was a professional and nobody could keep up with her.

"Step aside." Effie hissed at the woman who was supposed to make Johanna camera ready. They had done a mess with Katniss and they were doing a mess with Seven's victor. There was no make-up artist to be found around there, that was for sure. Johanna suffered the fussing with a few snide remarks that Effie answered in kind, her tolerance for the victor's antics very low. She was frantic with worry about the children and being sure Johanna was safe and sound was a poor consolation to that.

She was putting the last touch of eyeliner on the victor's eyelid when the door to the shooting studio suddenly burst open. Both she and Johanna startled and the thin pencil left a long dark trace on the younger woman's cheek.

It made Effie furious. "What in…"

"Soldier Trinket." the soldier who had so rudely barged in said in a cold detached voice. "Come with us."

She would never get used to that address. Soldier Trinket. She wasn't a soldier. She wasn't much of anything really. She was only there because Haymitch had had her abducted. Everyone else would have gladly left her to rot in the Capitol. She wasn't naïve enough to think it would have been preferable.

"What is this about? I am busy." she retorted, feeling a shiver run down her spine.

Those three soldiers the man was leading… She had seen them before. They were Coin's private guard.

"You are to come with us, soldier." the man repeated.

She patted her headscarf, dread and fear coiling around each other in her stomach. Her customized uniform had incensed the President since day one. Haymitch had warned her, had ranted and ranted… But surely there were more important matters at hand now than her fashion rebellion?

Now, Haymitch is busy in Command and can no longer help you, Katniss is gone so her protection is void, a little voice murmured at the back of her mind, You're vulnerable.

"Of course." she surrendered with a bright smile, and a flourished wave of her hand.

She handed the eyeliner to Johanna, briefly meeting the victor's cold gaze. Jo's calculating eyes darted from her to the soldiers and back but she didn't look disturbed at all by the fact Effie might have been on the verge of getting thrown in a cell – or worse.

It did feel like getting arrested. The four soldiers fell in formation around her as they walked along the tortuous grey corridors. Two at the front, two at the back, and her in the middle like a common criminal.

People stared as they passed them by.

She kept her chin high and an untroubled look on her face but the further they marched, the more nervous she got.

Her hopes that it might have been about the Star Squad being found collapsed when it became clear they were not going in the direction of Command or Special Defense.

They reached a section of Thirteen she had never been in. They passed more guards and security key points than it took to get to Command.

She was confused when they stopped in front of a grey sliding door, more confused than afraid, because it had become obvious she wasn't headed to a cell.

The squad leader knocked on the door and the familiar voice of their President granted entrance from inside. The soldier slid the door open and stood there, his eyes high on the wall next to Effie. Figuring that it was her cue, Effie stepped inside.

The door slid shut behind her.

She couldn't help the bout of claustrophobia that hit her then. She felt trapped.

In the lion's den…

Except it wasn't a lion as much as a snake – a different snake than Snow but a snake all the same – and it was a very nice den.

It was far more spacious than her own compartment. Everything was grey and utilitarian but it was obviously of a better quality and less second-hand than what everyone else was treated to. There was a TV in the living-area – a luxury in Thirteen where TV screens were only to be found in common areas – a small couch, a rug, paintings, a silver framed mirror, actual curtains that didn't need to be drawn because there was nobody in the corridor who would take a peek inside…

Coin was sitting at the metal table bolted to the wall, reading reports. She didn't look up when Effie was introduced.

It was probably intended to make her feel ill-at-ease, to agitate her… Coin didn't hold a candle to her mother. Effie had learned very early on how to play the patience game.

She simply stood there, hands clasped in front of her as a lady ought to do, wishing not for the first time that she was wearing her armor of colors and make-up. It was so much easier when she felt beautiful… Beauty gave her power… Power… Power was a sweet thing to have over people in that kind of situations.

"Soldier Trinket." Coin eventually greeted, her milky grey eyes never wandering away from the files.

"Madam President." she answered, curbing her tone just the right way that the sarcastic touch that always accidentally slipped when she gave her that title didn't show. "You requested my presence?"

The rebel president did shoot her a look then, amused, it seemed, by the euphemism.

Coin did not request, she demanded.

It was one of the differences with Snow, she supposed. President Snow never demanded, he ever so politely requested in a way that was impossible to refuse.

Much more civilized in her opinion.

"My time is precious, let us cut down to the chase." the president answered.

Effie licked her lips, feeling the dread coiling in her stomach again.

"Has there been any news?" she asked before it could go much further. "Have they found the Star Squad?"

It wasn't why she was there, of course. Coin would never have taken the time to brief her about her victors. Haymitch would have. Or Plutarch if Haymitch had been busy. Whatever this meeting was about, it wasn't about the children. However she wasn't about to pass an opportunity to find out more about that.

"They are presumed dead." Coin declared. "As you are well aware."

"Presumed isn't confirmed." she retorted.

The President studied her, her lips stretching into a fake sympathetic smile. "That is exactly how Haymitch worded it."

That looked like a trap, an invitation to confide in, and Effie didn't make the mistake of falling for it.

"How can I best help you, Madam President?" She inflicted cheer to her voice, forced her features to relax into the beaming look of the escort. "As you know, I supervise Johanna Mason's propos and…"

"Johanna Mason isn't your concern at present." Coin cut her off. "I am."

She immediately fell silent, watching as Coin stood up and walked to the mirror, checking her reflection. There was something very wrong with that picture. Alma Coin wasn't a woman who worried about her appearance.

When the President talked again, she was neutral, calculating almost."What are your qualifications?"

"My qualifications?" she repeated, a tad lost. "I am not certain I…"

"What are you?" Coin interrupted her. "What does an escort do? Aside for the obvious and the less obvious."

The obvious, she took to meant reaping children and prepping them to die. The less obvious was probably a reference to the things she had sometimes been forced to do for her own safety and peace of mind, things that might, on paper, make her look like barely more than a prostitute.

Escorts did as escorts must.

Everyone had to survive in the Capitol. It was better to do it with a smile. Beauty was power and when she was allowed her armor, Effie had power in spades. The woman's scorn slid on her without causing any pain.

The gibes weren't just there to hurt her feelings though.

Effie was a master in the art of verbal sparring.

She knew a warning when she heard one.

It had been very clear from the start to Effie that Coin held no respect for her. The President had a latent hatred for her that was potent and only curbed because of the dual protection Haymitch and Plutarch offered.

The warning, she figured, concerned what Coin could accidentally let slip to the wrong person – namely Haymitch, who didn't know everything. He would understand because if anyone could understand not having a choice in certain areas it was a victor, but she had always kept that part of her job silent. To protect him, really. Because at the end of the day he wouldn't judge her or condemn her for sleeping with people she was highly encouraged to sleep with but he would feel as if he had failed to protect her out of a ridiculous chivalrous idea that everything bad that happened to her was his fault.

But that required an in-depth understanding of their relationship that Coin didn't possess. To her, it would probably be informing a man that his lover had had affairs and aiming at creating troubles.

"An escort advises victors and tributes and handles the PR." she answered calmly, pretending not to understand the unvoiced threat.

Coin's cold eyes were staring at her in the mirror but Effie stood tall, refusing to be intimidated. Eyes bright, chin up, smile on, she repeated to herself like a mantra.

"You were a model." the President insisted. "And, if I am not mistaken, one of your hobbies is designing clothes, which hints at stylist ambitions."

"I have many talents." She grinned a cheeky grin, switching tactics and going for a flirty tone.

"I am sure." the President snorted, neither amused nor receptive to that approach. She turned around and studied her once more, making Effie feel inadequate in the grey garbs that she had tried to style into something. "I heard you state at several points that I did not look presidential enough."

"Oh." Effie accidentally breathed out, suddenly relieved. She wasn't there because she was in trouble, she realized, she was there because of her expertise. "Well… You have a commanding presence and you do not lack charisma, both of which are key points for a Commander in Chief…"

"But not for a President." Coin insisted.

She placed a hand on her hip and tilted her head to the side, evaluating.

"Capitols do not want a Commander in Chief." she stated plainly. "Neither will District people once the war is over. They will want a leader, yes, but someone they can relate to, someone they like."

The rebel president nodded once. "Mr Latier is working on hacking the Capitol's broadcasts as we speak. Next time Coriolanus goes on air, I will address the people in his place." Coin shrugged. "You have two hours to make me look presidential."

"Two hours." Effie repeated. That was very little time for a make-over but this was something she knew how to do. She was already making lists at the back of her head. "Then the first thing to do is an emergency haircut. Then we need to talk about clothes. And make-up. I will need make-up. Oh, and you will need a manicure."

"I do not intend to look like one of your Capitol parrots." Coin warned. "It needs to be…"

"District, yes, I know." she dismissed, already designing plans. "But it can be District chic. I have been dressing Haymitch in that style for years. Do give me some credits, I know what I am doing. Now… I will need material."

In a matter of minutes, she had soldiers at her beck and call, fetching make-up, files, and fabrics from all over the compound. It was a relief to finally be allowed to work without restrictions.

She wasn't really a hairdresser and she felt a bit anxious when she cut the first strands because if she failed, it wouldn't be just a bad haircut, she would be in trouble. She went for something simple, basing herself on her experience trimming Haymitch's hair – because he was a stubborn idiot who wouldn't let anyone near his head with a pair of scissors – thinking once the Capitol had fallen, they could find someone to do a more complicated job of it. Coin's hair was dry and split at the end, she cut it just above her shoulders. She would have given it volume if it had been left to her but she decided it might be best to let it look straight. It looked serious but not closed off.

Coin was silent the whole time and Effie couldn't help but shuffled impatiently on her feet while she checked her reflection in the mirror.

"It actually looks good." the President declared after a moment and Effie breathed a sigh of relief.

"Now, clothes." she said, because there was no time to waste.

The bedroom area was more spacious than standard compartments too and she didn't have one of those bunk beds, she had a real double bed. It made Effie jealous. Those narrow beds…

She snooped in the dresser's drawers without shame, taking out awful grey jackets after awful grey jackets.

"Grey is not a good color for you." Effie muttered. "Once we reach the Capitol, you need to get a suitable wardrobe made. Soft colors, I think. Pale blue, perhaps. For now though…" She settled on an uniform that was pressed and that didn't look too shabby or frayed. With the right light and a few alterations… "This would be suitable."

Ideally, Effie would have done something to style the eyebrows and maybe insist on a skin peeling treatment for her face but not before a public apparition. She would have looked blotched and reddish.

She did insist on her sitting back down at the table while she worked on her nails despite Coin's arguments that nobody would see them.

"You have a soldier's hands." Effie snapped eventually, forgetting all about reverence in her fight for fashion. "Soldier's hands are ugly. Presidents have beautiful graceful hands. Ladies have beautiful graceful hands. There is nothing worse than having ugly hands."

She didn't have much to work with. Coin kept her nails cropped short, although irregular, and Effie had the sneaking suspicion the President occasionally nibbled on them – a very understandable habit but one she could never condone.

"I did not want to extend a political refugee status to an escort. Haymitch claimed you were efficient and particularly gifted at your job, that the Mockingjay would need your expertise, I granted your passage to Thirteen on those grounds." the President ventured at some point while Effie tried to style her nails into something, already planning on adding two layers of translucent nail polish for good measure. She kept her eyes cast on the woman's hand, not sure what she was expected to answer to that. "I believed his reasons to be of a more personal nature though."

She faked detachment. "We have been colleagues for a long time."

She couldn't confess to whatever it was Coin wanted confirmed. Their affair was more of an open secret than anything else now. They had been sloppy in Thirteen, exhausted by the war and the weight on their shoulders, tired of being helpless, beyond pretending all they wanted from each other was sex maybe… The only person who didn't suspect anything was probably Katniss. They hadn't discussed it though. They never discussed the important things.

"Escorts aren't mentors." Coin ventured. Her tone was calm, as if to better lure her into a sense of false tranquility, as if they were just discussing the weather. Snake, Effie thought, poisonous snake. "Mentors have a duty to care for their tributes. Escorts… Escorts are just there to look pretty. Am I wrong?"

"I suppose not." she answered cheerfully, bottling her feelings and burying them deep. Was she trying to imply she was still on the Capitol's side? "Although given that Twelve has only one victor and that Haymitch is Haymitch, I have been helping on the mentoring front. For years, actually."

"True." Coin granted. "But it was Haymitch who had you brought here, it wasn't your choice, was it?"

"He did not ask before having me abducted, no." she offered. "But given the choice I would have followed freely."

The president studied her. "Why?"

Such a simple question and such a loaded answer. Why? Because of the children obviously. Because of Haymitch. Because where was her place if not with her team? She wasn't one to flaunt her weaknesses though. Everybody knew she loved the children to death. There was no point making a show of it. "Staying behind was not an option."

It was vague and not exactly the partisan line but Coin seemed pleased by that answer. She was treated to a rare smile. "Haymitch has a father's love for Everdeen."

Treacherous waters, Effie mused. What was she after?

"Yes." she confirmed, because that wasn't a secret either.

"Our Mockingjay has a lot of power, more than she realizes…" Coin insisted. "But she is unstable, impetuous… She has no concept of obeying authority… She is a loose cannon and that will ultimately be dangerous. A new world is a fragile thing… It can crumble easily. Order has to stick." Which was why Peeta had been dispatched to the Star Squad… Coin wanted Katniss out of the picture. Effie and Haymitch had worked that out on their own. "Haymitch is blinded by his love for her. He will remain loyal to her whatever happens."

Effie kept her breathing regular and her hands steady, schooling her features into something just as neutral as the president's voice.

She didn't know where that conversation was headed but she doubted it was going anywhere good.

"You won't make that mistake because you are pragmatic." Coin continued. "You wouldn't have stayed in the Capitol because you knew you were too closely affiliated to the Mockingjay, you would have been arrested or worse. You go where your interest lies. You are a leech and I despise that."

Effie's fingers didn't quiver as she applied the first coat of nail polish. She remained focused, attentive not to make a mistake. "You make me sound very sly."

"Once we take the Capitol, your people will be held accountable." the President informed her. "Our people want justice. They will demand blood. We are not savages, there will be trials. Government officials, Gamemakers, escorts, stylists… Anyone involved in the Games…" There was a pause. "A political refugee status isn't the same as immunity."

"I see." she hummed.

"Do you?" Coin snorted. "Haymitch was right. You are efficient and particularly gifted at your job. Thirteen is a military District, PR hasn't been our priority in a long time." The woman shrugged. "Every president needs leeches."

She almost burst out laughing at that ridiculous proposal. Did that woman truly think that she would forsake Haymitch and the children for… What? Playing at being a perfect citizen once more? Power?

Once upon a time, maybe.

A long time ago.

Before…

Before her eyes had opened to the real state of Panem.

"Haymitch can control Katniss." she countered instead. Her priority was the children, had always been the children, and if Coin couldn't see that… "You want my PR advice, here it is… Having the Mockingjay on your side will be crucial. Do not try to harm her. Or Peeta. Haymitch can control her."

"Yes. That is a concern on its own." Coin replied.

"No." she spat. "It is not."

"Because you believe yourself to be a perfect pressure point? Because you believe that if I threaten you, he will stand in line?" the President mocked. "Are you so sure he will go that far for you? He isn't the kind to toss his principles away for a lover, no matter how talented that lover might be."

It was scary how much that woman misunderstood Haymitch… There was nothing Haymitch wouldn't have done for his family. For the children. For her, now, she wasn't sure. But letting Coin think she was his weakness was better than the president threatening their victors.

"You do not want Haymitch as your enemy." she warned.

Coin tilted her head to the side. "Are you as pragmatic as I think you to be, Miss Trinket?"

A knock on the door prevented her from answering. It opened on a soldier. "They have a canal, Ma'am."

Coin stood up and so did Effie.

"Think about it." the president told her and then waved a dismissive hand.

Effie didn't need to be dismissed twice. She kept a hurried pace all the way to her compartment – not quite running but certainly not walking either – fighting to keep herself collected.

She wasn't expecting to find Haymitch pacing in her living area. He looked awful. Dark bags under his eyes, the unkempt beard had grown back, and there was a hint of frantic madness on his face. She barely had time to slide the door shut and lean against it before he was on her.

"What the fuck happened?" he asked, gripping her arms tight. "We took a break, I went looking for you and Jo said soldiers had taken you away… You were nowhere to be fucking found. Nobody knew anything about it… Where the fuck…"

"Coin." she cut him off, taking a few deep breaths. She was shaking all over and could do nothing to stop it. She had fought so hard to keep herself together in there… "She needed a PR consultant."

"She called you for a makeover?" he scoffed, cupping her cheek. "You're in a state. What's wrong with you? What happened?"

"A makeover and a few threats." She shook her head a little and then wrapped her arms around his waist, needing comfort. He immediately embraced her back and she melted against his chest, letting herself feel safe. There was no safest place in Panem than Haymitch's hugs. "You have to be careful with her. She is power hungry."

"Fuck if I don't know." he muttered against her headscarf. "She threatened you?"

"Yes and no…" she hesitated, pressing her face against his grey shirt, tucking her head under his chin. "But the children… And you… I am not pragmatic about you and the children. I… There is no question about who I am loyal to, you know that, don't you?"

"Sure." he promised, sounding a bit puzzled. "We're a team."

"Yes." she breathed out. "Yes, we are a team."

And a team they would stay.

They were about to take down a tyrant.

Nothing said they couldn't take out another one.