Prompt: Okay this is pretty dark so feel free not to do it, but chapter 531 was AMAZING and I couldn't help but think: what if Effie attempted suicide before Haymitch got there? Haymitch would still show up and probably tell her family off but that's your choice if you decide to write it :) As always LOVE your work and adore your spirit. Drama from before was ridiculous ❤❤❤❤❤❤
A Match Made In Madness
Lyssa checked the nursery before addressing the commotion downstairs.
Bryden and Timotheo were still there, playing some board game under the distracted eyes of the governess who doubled as a nanny. Her boys looked just as sad and lost as they had been since the end of the war and it made her heart clench to see them so. Although her heart clenched a lot nowadays. Every time she thought about her dead husband, about the rebels forcing him to face a firing squad…
More noises from downstairs made her leave the nursery unnoticed. She quickened her pace along the familiar corridors of her childhood home, longing for the loved walls of her own house. Her destroyed house that had been reduced to dust and ashes. Like the rest of her life.
It had been difficult enough to come back to her parents' house pleading for a place to live, the formidable inheritance of the Flavershyms forbidden to her because Rufus had once been a Gamemaker for two years, which now meant that not only had he deserved to be murdered without any dignity on live TV but that all his money and assets had been stolen by the government. She had never felt hatred before. Now she knew what it tasted like.
Yes, it had been difficult to come back and ask for a safe haven to wait for the rebel storm to pass, all the more so knowing business was declining and her father was having problems keeping their fortune balanced. They lived with a reduced staff, they never went on endless shopping sessions anymore and they didn't receive. Even her mother, while desperate to keep up appearances, seemed aware of the looming threat. Elindra was playing a dangerous game of trying to climb back up the social circles while not spending a cent more than she absolutely needed.
Lyssa could have lived with all that if it hadn't been for her sister.
She had always loved Effie.
Oh, how she hated her now…
It was her fault. Everything was her fault. It had been her friends putting Lyssa's life upside down, her friends ransacking the Capitol, her friends sentencing her and her sons to poverty, her friends who had shot Rufus… And it had been her who had refused to help when Lyssa and Elindra had gone to her hospital room and begged for her to intervene.
Effie had almost laughed in their faces, had kept lying about having next to no power… To stay in her lover's good grace, surely. For the good it had done her sister… Haymitch Abernathy had left for Twelve with his damn Mockingjay after starting just enough rumors that everybody in Panem knew Effie Trinket had escaped death because she had allowed him to settle between her thighs more than once. It was shameful. And even more shameful to be associated with her.
Lyssa hated her for not helping Rufus. And all because her sister had always been viciously jealous of Lyssa's life of course. She had always tried to understand Effie, had tirelessly worked to get close despite the distance her sister kept her at, had always loved her no matter what….
Oh, the day Effie had showed up on their parents' doorstep, with a pitiful pink suitcase and no money to speak of… The government had taken everything away from her sister too. Sweet irony.
Their mother had been determined to send her away – to Twelve, why not? Out of sight out of mind. But their father, as angry as he was with Effie, wouldn't consent to it. Family was family.
So they all lived in that house and it would have been unbearable enough on account of the tight quarters but, naturally, her sister had to make it worse by going insane. And all for attention, Lyssa was sure of it.
Effie hid. There was no other word for it.
She roamed the house, avoided the staff, ducked in empty rooms every time Mother called her… She spent her days in pajamas too. When she wasn't wearing the old tattered man shirt she was carrying it around like an odd talisman… She never brushed her hair. She never wore make-up. Sometimes, she curled up in corners or behind some pieces of furniture and she rocked on herself, completely lost to the world. In those moments it was as if she wasn't there anymore. And of course she had screamed herself raw at night, running around the house like a madwoman, until Elindra had bought her sleeping pills and instructed her to use them…
The pills weren't doing much good. Only the other day she had almost run off the street… If their father hadn't caught her… It had been frightening to watch her fight him off as if she didn't know him at all. Their mother had stared, clutching her dressing gown to her chest, terror and horror battling on her face… Effie had collapsed eventually, as if something in her had just snapped… She had collapsed in their father's arms and had sobbed until Lyssa had clapped her hands and had hoarded her own children back to bed…
Their aunt frightened them.
All for attention, Lyssa was sure of it.
Effie had behaved more or less normally at first. She had visited the Mellark boy at the clinic every afternoon, like clockwork. Her mornings had been spent looking for a job. That had stopped quickly enough when it had turned out that people only had three adjectives for her: traitor, slut or monster – personally, Lyssa agreed with all three. People didn't want to be associated with the surviving escort. So when Mellark had been shipped back to Twelve, Effie had stopped going out.
She needed to find her importance somewhere so she was grasping for their parents' attention. Because they were too sympathetic to Lyssa's loss and god forbids the spotlight not being on Effie…
Her behavior wasn't normal though.
The other day, at dinner – a dinner Effie had attended in her old tattered baggy shirt like a ruffian – Lyssa had casually suggested they should have her committed. Their mother has tut-tutted disapprovingly but the glance she had exchanged with her husband had told Lyssa they had had that particular conversation before. Effie must have realized it too because she had gone completely crazy then.
She had tried to leave the house, tossing everything she owned in her suitcase and swearing she wouldn't cause them any more troubles… She had been raving about being locked-up and escaping and what not. It wasn't until their father had sworn they wouldn't have her sent away and their mother had pointed out that there was no way to do that without damaging their reputation further that Effie had calmed down.
All for attention. Like everything else.
She reached the stairs just as the voices rose in fury.
"You have no business here!" her mother shrieked. "Leave before I call the authorities!"
"Lady, I don't hit women as a rule but I swear if you don't step aside…" a male voice warned.
"Let him in." Lyssa instructed, her calm tone effectively cutting through the argument. She wasn't one for dramatic entrances, that had always been more Effie's scene, but she couldn't deny she enjoyed the way eyes turned on her. She knew how she looked after all, even in black, she looked ravishing. She dismissed the maid with a casual wave of the hand and the girl hurried away. "Think about the neighbors, Mother."
That did the trick.
Elindra almost dragged the man inside and hastily closed the door behind him before anxiously peering through the small window.
"Where's she?" Haymitch Abernathy asked, directing his question to her.
Lyssa took a moment to study the victor, unable to see what was so appealing about him. His clothes were creased as if he had traveled all night and hadn't taken the time to change and freshen up before showing up – a hypothesis that the traveling bag he dropped at his feet encouraged, she dearly hoped he wasn't entertaining any thought of them hosting him. His hair was long, dirty and hadn't seen a comb in far too long. Uneven rough stubble covered his chin and jaws. He had broad shoulders and he looked strong but his chest didn't appear firm at all.
"She is not here." Elindra bravely lied. "I do not know what you heard but Effie has a very nice proper boyfriend. She does not need you to soil her reputation again. She is doing very well for herself. You are not welcome here and I do not know who you think you are to come here like this but it will not stand!"
"I called him, Mother." Lyssa said before he could snap at Elindra again. He seemed the kind to rudely snap at people under their own roof.
"I beg your pardon?" her mother scoffed in dismay. "Whatever for?"
"He can take her off our hands before she does something that brings shame to this house again." she dismissed. "She might not miss next time."
Elindra swallowed hard, pursing her lips in a way that told Lyssa she would be in for a lecture later on.
"Your sister had an accident." her mother hissed. "She needs to stay here where her reputation is safe."
"Taking three pills instead of two is an accident, Mother." she sneered. "Swallowing the whole bottle is a suicide attempt."
The word hadn't been said once.
Not when the maid had found her sister, not when Elindra had frantically slapped her until her eyelids had finally fluttered open, not when the old family doctor had prescribed her rest… Accident was the polite proper term.
"Where's she?" Abernathy asked, sounding tired, almost defeated.
"You will take her with you, yes?" Lyssa insisted.
Oh, the loathing in those grey eyes… "If she wants to come. Yeah."
"That is not necessary and I won't allow it." Elindra snapped. "Effie will stay here. She is simply… She has bad cases of nerves attacks, that is all. She will rest, get better and we will find her a nice gentleman to…"
"Sure." Abernathy scowled. "Over my dead body."
"It is for the best." Lyssa promises. "She is lovesick for him, haven't you noticed? The shirt, the way she stares at the phone… It is his name she calls when she has an episode. If he wants her, I say good riddance."
"Lyssa!" Elindra exclaimed, not that disapproving though.
"The scandal will be bad but it will only be on her." she insisted "If Effie kills herself here we will never hear the end of it."
"Okay. Enough's enough." Abernathy growled, pushing past her and up the stairs. "Effie!" He looked like man's possessed, opening every door on his path. "Effie!"
Lyssandra and Elindra hurried after him, a bit scared by his sudden hostility. He smelt strongly of whiskey and she wondered if he was drunk. It wouldn't be surprising, would it?
"Mother?" Timotheo called out, uncertain, when the man brutally opened the nursery's door. Her brave boy had immediately pushed his little brother behind him. "Mother, is it happening again?"
Was someone else going to be arrested and killed? he meant. Would Haymitch Abernathy, one of the rebellion's figureheads, grab someone like the rebels had grabbed Rufus in front of his sons without any sort of common decency?
"Sorry, kid." Abernathy offered, his voice softening, before she could say anything. "Didn't mean to scare you. Just looking for my girl."
"I wasn't scared." her son answered, jutting his chin up in dismissal.
Abernathy's lips quirked up in a bitter smirk. "Course not."
"If you are done I will take you to her room." Lyssa hissed, forcing him to step back so she could close the nursery's door once more.
"You've got a good boy." he said on the way.
As if it was even a question.
"His father was a good man too." she snapped. "You and my sister refused to help him. You might as well have killed him yourselves."
"It was a lot more complicated than that." he countered. "I barely got Effie out."
"Oh, please!" she scowled.
Annoyance flashed on his face but she opened a door before he could reply and the moment he spotted Effie lost in the comforter of her big bed, he was gone. He rushed inside and if he was thrown by the pink canopy of the bed or the decidedly teenage feel of the room, it didn't show.
"Sweetheart…" he breathed out with relief when he sat on the mattress next to Effie's hip. He brushed his knuckles against her cheek and smiled when her eyes opened. A genuine tender smile that looked so intimate Lyssa felt like an intruder. "Stupid girl…" he growled. "Why didn't you call? You're doing this bad, you call me. You come to me." He shook his head. "I know you're angry with me but that's pushing it too far. You don't… You don't do this, Effie. That's… No."
Effie was staring at him as if she wasn't sure he was real.
"You should stall Father." Lyssa suggested to Elindra "He won't approve."
And she intended to have Abernathy and her sister out of the house well before he was back from work and tried to stop them from whisking Effie to Twelve.
Her mother's lips were still pursed. "Neither do I, Lyssandra."
And yet she still left in search of a pretext to slow down their father, probably because she knew Lyssa was right. They would survive the scandal of Effie running to Twelve but if Effie took her own life under their roof… Abernathy had experience with that sort of things. Everyone knew the Mockingjay was unstable.
"Haymitch…" Effie whispered almost with awe. She reached out and he helped her place her hand on his cheek. "You're real."
Lyssa rolled her eyes and stepped inside the room. "She sleepwalks now. I trust it is not a deal breaker for you."
She rummaged around until she located the pink suitcase under the bed. She could have called the maid but she was curious.
Abernathy was resolutely ignoring her anyway.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Perfectly fine." Effie answered, almost cheerfully.
Exactly as Lyssa had suspected. An act. She should have called the victor much earlier and saved them all the trouble. Perhaps that even was what her sister had been after. A dashing rescue.
"Effie." he chided.
Effie licked her lips and averted her eyes, her cheeks flushed in shame. "There was an accident, as you surely know…"
"Accident, was it?" he snorted bitterly.
Her sister shrugged pitifully. "I was very tired. I could not… I could not make sense of the things in my head and… Lyssa, what are you doing?"
It might have been the first time in months Effie had dared to address her directly. Guilt, Lyssa was sure.
"I am packing your things, what does it look like?" she retorted. "We cannot keep you given the circumstances. Either you are insane or you play at being insane. Frankly, I don't give a damn which it is."
That wasn't entirely true and her heart clenched.
Seeing Effie unconscious in a puddle of her own sick… Seeing their parents so frantic with panic… Seeing their mother crying…
No, she hadn't liked that at all.
But they couldn't help her. That was glaringly obvious.
"No!" Effie screamed, scrambling to a sitting position but too weak to do much more. "No! Father said he wouldn't let you! He promised! He promised! I will be good… I won't do it again, I promise. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Don't let them lock me up, Lyssa… Don't send me there! Don't…"
"Send you where?" Abernathy frowned, looking up at Lyssa. "What is she talking about?"
She pursed her lips, reluctant to share her own part in this fiasco.
"She wants to send me to an asylum." Effie whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Because I'm insane. And I am. I think I am but…"
"Nobody's locking you up anywhere." the victor cut her off. "I've come to take you home."
"Home…" her sister repeated as if it was a foreign concept.
"If you want to come, that is." Abernathy amended, nervously rubbing the back of neck. "The kids are cleaning the guest room right now. They were happy when I told them I was coming to get you, they want to see you. Didn't tell them what happened though. Knew you wouldn't like that.."
Did he ever form proper sentences, she wondered? What was so appealing about butchered grammar?
"Home… Home with you…" Effie insisted, sounding a bit sluggish.
She was always slow lately.
Lyssa folded the last dress in the suitcase and moved on to the dressing table and the beauty products her sister hadn't touched in a long time.
"You can't be that mad with me… You're wearing my shirt." he pointed out. "Been wearing it a while, yeah?"
It was a tactful way to say she smelled, Lyssa figured. But it wasn't Effie per se. Her sister showered three times a day since the war.
"She refuses to have it washed." Lyssa supplied. "Mother tried to toss it away and she fished it from the garbage bin."
Abernathy wrinkled his nose while Effie flushed crimson. Her sister didn't deny though.
Lyssa understood more than she pretended. She had her own stash of Rufus' clothes hidden away and she kept them religiously but that didn't mean she dressed like a hobo.
"Okay… Tell you what, sweetheart… I'll get you another one, yeah? Let's take this one off. Get you dressed." he suggested.
Lyssa turned around to offer her help because as much as she hated her sister nowadays she wasn't about to let a man putting unwelcomed hands on her. The hands weren't unwelcomed though. They couldn't be when Effie slipped the shirt over her head without a second thought for the grand lack of underwear underneath.
His grey eyes roamed on the uncovered flesh. Assessing rather than lusting.
"You lost more weight." he said.
"She doesn't eat." Lyssa sighed, betraying a worry she didn't want to admit to herself. Effie looked like a walking corpse. She ate like a bird, mostly soup. Her blue eyes fell on the scars and she frowned. "Where did you get those?"
Effie hadn't shied away from the man's gaze but she covered herself with the comforter under her sister's scrutiny. "Nowhere."
"It's okay, sweetheart." he said calmly. "You don't have to say."
Effie relaxed and accepted the bra and panties he fished from the open suitcase. She dressed under the sheets and Lyssa had the distinct impression it was to hide from her and not from him. She only pushed the comforter away once she had a black and white dress on. It looked far too big on her.
Lyssa grabbed her toiletry bag from the bathroom and zipped the suitcase shut. There. Now Effie could leave for good and she would be able to mourn in peace.
She felt a pang of longing when she saw the way the victor helped her walk, making sure she wouldn't trip, making sure she was alright… The smile Effie flashed him was the most genuine thing she had seen on her sister's face since the war, her eyes were lighting up when she looked at him. And he softened around her. He looked less scary, less… intense.
A match made in madness.
"Thanks for calling me." Abernathy said as Lyssa was about to close the front door on them. His tone was controlled and she was sure there were other things he wanted to tell her. Mainly about how suggesting to have Effie committed was probably what had pushed her to radical options.
She understood what he was playing at when Effie looked at her in surprise and gratefulness.
She remained rigid in her sister's embrace.
But that was a first step, she figured.