In response to HGH's questions; I hope this chapter sheds some light on them. :)
Also, in this fic, Haymitch won the 90th Hunger Games at the age of 16, making him currently 26.
Chapter Four: A 100 year Special
His smirk only widened as she continued to stare in silent horror. Finally, she managed to regain her voice.
"You?!" she raged. Even Isa backed up a little in her chair.
"Please… don't get too excited," he said, before taking another swig from the bottle.
"I'm going to kill you," and with that she lunged for him. However, despite his drunken state he was still able to move remarkably quickly. Her once well directed kick managed only to kick the chair before she was apprehended by a guard, who had been standing unseen in the corner of the carriage.
The chair swung back and forth as he stared at her with a bored expression. "Darling, I think you might be under the wrong impression here. First you try to die when you get on the train and now trying to kill people – you are meant to do those things in the arena. Got it, sweetheart?"
She stared darkly back at him. "Can I kindly be released?" she said in a measured tone, with as much dignity as she could muster with her hands secured behind her back and being held up by the guard's arm.
Haymitch looked at her as if he was considering it for a few moments before signalling the guard to let her go.
She stood up straight and waited silently. Haymitch got to his feet leisurely and set the bottle down on the adjacent table before turning to her. "Now sweetheart, we need to work on you big ti…" But he never got to finish, before with excellent marksmanship her boot connected with her target this time, and Haymitch crumpled to the floor before her, cursing wildly and clutching his crotch.
"Got it, sweetheart," she replied sarcastically. Before storming out of the carriage to the distressed cries of Isa and past a shell shocked Frenkin, finding herself suddenly very capable of walking in heels.
Back in the previous room she fumed silently, creating a permanent groove in the carpet as she marched to and fro, the glass crunching beneath her boots. However, after a while her feet felt like they were on fire from all the walking in heels she had done and she collapsed defeated onto the bed, scolding herself over and over again.
How could I be so impulsive? He is my mentor! He is going to be the one responsible for trying to keep me alive! How was dealing him a boot to his crown jewels meant to help anything?!
Utterly trounced, she did the only thing she could think of that could possibly give her relief, even if it was merely illusion. Lying her head down on the softest pillows she had ever felt, she shut her eyes to the world.
Things would have been different if he had not decided to trash the room. Idiot, she raged inwardly, and then an even quieter voice surfaced…Things would have been very different if my name had never been chosen at all. Pushing thoughts like that to the back of her mind she whispered to herself angrily, "No point dwelling on what could have been. Deal with what is."
…
Her eyes opened heavily to the quiet yet insistent knocking at the door. Expecting it to be Isa, or even worse Haymitch – though she couldn't really imagine him doing anything 'quietly' – she remained silent. However after a moment she heard the timid voice of Frenkin drift through the door.
"Stephanie…erm, Stephanie…?"
She paused for a moment trying to think if this was wise, but sighing she got up and opened the door. She never really considered what she was about to do before she did it.
"Oh!" Frenkin exclaimed as his face rapidly flushed a deep red.
She subconsciously glanced down, making sure no one had changed her while she slept. But no, all was more or less the same in that department. "Yes?" she prompted him, when he had stood silently staring at his feet for a few moments. Patience was something she was also in dire need of.
"We have to go down and get food," he said looking up at her with wide eyes. For a moment an image of Eldi flashed before her with painful clarity, and all she wanted to do was to pull Frenkin close and protect him. However she was brought back to reality rather swiftly – Food! That's another thing my idiot mentor made me miss out on, she thought angrily to herself.
The door once more automatically opened to admit them into the carriage. Her third visit and hopefully a longer and more productive one this time, she thought.
However as soon as she stepped into the carriage her eyes landed on Haymitch, sprawled across a rather angular and uncomfortable looking sofa that had seemed to materialise out of nowhere, since last she had been here. Surely they don't keep spare furniture on the train! She thought absent-mindedly. But she was pulled back out of her reverie by the daggers that Haymitch was shooting her way.
"Hey Frenkin, pass me over that bottle," Haymitch called, as his narrowed, grey gaze never left hers.
She folded her arms defiantly, noting that there were now two guards in the carriage. She was lucky enough to be quick enough in escaping back to her room last time. She had no doubt that if she were to make any questionable moves she would find herself pinned rather quickly.
Frenkin struggled to reach the bottle on the top shelf and when she turned, she noticed that it was another bottle of alcohol.
"Why can't you get it yourself?" she asked sharply.
"I am currently incapacitated due to someone's rather rude and uncalled for behaviour," he said flatly.
"I wouldn't say completely uncalled for," she replied, a dark eyebrow arched.
He never got to retort however because just then Isa came tottering back into the carriage with a silk cloth bulging with something. Isa proceeded to hand it to Haymitch, who then proceeded to press it with a painful hiss to where her boot had collided with earlier.
He glared up at her. "What?" he growled.
Stephanie tried her hardest to bite back the smile, but the corners of her mouth were twitching furiously with the effort. And so she walked briskly over to lift the bottle down for Frenkin.
Opened bottle in hand, Haymitch swigged at it generously, all the while letting his gaze bore into her back as she pretended to be interested in whatever was outside; namely wilderness. The brooding silence really put a dampener on the mood in the carriage. However, completely oblivious to it Isa babbled on nonsensically.
"Now Stephanie, I simply must tell you that I will not tolerate such behaviour. It is inexcusable and has upset me greatly…" Here Isa paused for dramatic effect, placing a clawed – (there was honestly no other way to describe it, Stephanie justified. The 'nails' were almost three inches!) – hand over her heart, taking deep and measured breaths. Stephanie stared at her quizzically. Haymitch was still glaring at her.
"But anyways, on to the main topics that. We. Need. To. Discuss!" The escort punctuated her last few words meaningfully. She ushered them over to sit down on the sofa perpendicular to the one Haymitch sat sulking on.
When they were all seated Isa beamed at each of them in turn. "Now…" she began, but she never got to continue for Stephanie interrupted her.
"Stop glaring at me!"
"They say never to keep your eyes off a dangerous animal, for that's when it will pounce," he retorted.
Stephanie swallowed the remark that she had in her throat with much difficulty, choosing instead to ignore him, and turned to Isa who sat frozen like a statue.
Isa threw a displeased glance at Stephanie. "Very rude" she scolded, wagging one of her painted claws at Stephanie, before she continued.
"Well, Frenkin Handalriss and Stephanie Trindlesworth, you are two very lucky people. For you two will be part of the 100th Hunger Games!" Isa broke into spontaneous applause following her words. She proceeded, undeterred by her audience's evident lack of enthusiasm.
"Being as we are celebrating a whole wondrous century of Hunger Games these will be very special games that you will have the privilege to participate in."
Stephanie swallowed hard and out of the corner of her eye she saw the beads of sweat begin to formalise on Frenkin's forehead. 'Special'… the word was coated in venom disguised as sweet. For them it spelt more danger and pain, but for Isa and her kind, it simply meant a more entertaining Hunger Games.
Stephanie wouldn't allow herself to dwell on what these 'special' games might entail. She wouldn't frighten herself with the horrors that her imagination could no doubt conjure up. No, that was the Gamemakers' job, and they had proven themselves more than capable of striking fear into the most steeliest of tributes.
"Now…!" Suddenly a bright light flashed before Stephanie and she blinked rapidly in response. When her vision returned she looked to find Isa concentrating intently on a small rectangular object in her hand, sleek and almost flat. Stephanie recognised it, and then realised that they made them in the factories back at District 3.
"What did you do?" she inquired curiously.
"Oh, I just snapped a few quick pictures and sent them onto Ficen and her styling team. Just so they can be prepared." Isa replied lining the object up to 'snap a picture' of Frenkin.
Once that was done Isa clapped her hands together and suddenly food was whisked in before them. Stephanie's mouth literally dropped open, and she blushed a little as her stomach rumbled approvingly.
"Well, eat what you want," Isa said, and then more confidentially said to Stephanie with a pointed wink, "Balance."
Stephanie reached for something that seemed to resemble a miniature pie that was golden and crisp and had little hot tendrils of steam rising from it. But just as she was about to claim it, it was swiped from under her grasp.
She snapped her gaze up just in time to catch Haymitch, as he wolfed the last of it down with an uncanny speed. She simply glared at him.
"Animal," she mumbled under her breath, before swiping another of the miniature pies and sinking her teeth into it victoriously. Haymitch merely smirked back at her.