Chapter One-Hundred-and-Six Clear

(Stephanie's POV)

Stephanie woke groggily and uncomfortably that morning to the sound of Isa's sing-song wakeup rhyme.

Blinking open her eyes with a ready glare she was met with a pair of by now familiar, greener than green eyes that were bright with excitement.

There was a split moment before Stephanie shot up in bed, startling Isa and making the blood rush to own pounding head as she glanced to the empty space beside her.

"Expecting someone?"

Stephanie looked up to see Haymitch leaning against the doorway, freshly dressed and a knowing smirk on his face.

She gave him a rueful smirk back, trying to push down the thump against her heart as she took in the fresh cuts and bruises that seemed even more gruesome in the morning light.

For a moment their gazes locked and something silent passed between them and then Haymitch gave her and Isa a brief nod before he continued on down the hallway.

Isa turned and tutted under her breath. "Poor Haymitch pet, falling down all those stairs! Such a shame to mark such a handsome face," Isa intoned meaningfully.

Stephanie took a deep breath. So that was the story, eh? She thought briefly.

She showered and dressed swiftly as soon as Isa had left the room and she had barely enough time to wolf down a few rolls and a scalding cup of coffee for breakfast, before the stylists spilled out of the lift, talking animatedly amongst themselves.

Stephanie could feel it as Isa rushed them along and as Frenkin was ushered into be styled for the day and even Haymitch seemed more alert.

It was a feeling of movement or that was as best as Stephanie could describe it; a sense of purpose as stylists expertly began to lay out their equipment, Isa taking her usual phone-calls and ushering them along. Some level of normalcy had been resumed with the scheduling of an event after the chaos of the training's sudden postponement.

There was security in schedules, in events that she could mentally prepare herself for Stephanie hoped, as she grabbed another roll from the table as she passed, ignoring Isa's pursed lips in disapproval.

"Balance," Isa hissed at her as she passed and Stephanie couldn't help a fleeting, reminiscent smile from a train-ride what seemed like a lifetime ago.

Stephanie was pleasantly surprised when Lashes presented her with the slim trousers for her to put on; granted they were a metallic gold and the shoes that apparently matched were ridiculously high; but Stephanie was minutely comforted more than she could explain that for once she might actually feel a tad more comfortable in a Capitol outfit.

The expression lasted a minute as she frowned when she saw the 'top' – though Stephanie wasn't sure with the lack of material it consisted of, that it constituted as even a scarf.

There was a pearl encrusted collar almost, that went around her throat and from it there was a single gauzy film of sheer material that covered her to her navel, leaving her back and arms bare.

Silver fixed her hair high up with it seemed over a hundred pins so that when he was finished her hair fell in a dark ponytail over her shoulder. Meanwhile Bright and Lashes had been giggling so much like giddy schoolgirls as they essentially drew on her back with gold and other metallic-coloured…whatever they were - that Stephanie was beginning to suspect that they surely must be up to something.

It was only as Lashes and Bright were happily drawing swirling, golden patterns along her arms that almost had Stephanie dizzy as she traced their patterns with her eyes – that something clicked.

At first Stephanie didn't say anything. Why complain about a good thing? But as time drew on, a line of frustration appeared between Stephanie's now immaculate brows – thanks to Silver – and not being able to contain herself anymore, she asked.

"Where's Ficen?"

All three stylists paused immediately, looking to her with wide, unblinking gazes and suddenly Stephanie felt uncomfortable.

"She's ill," Bright explained simply before her gaze was drawn back to Stephanie's scarlet nails, and just like that they went back to their work unfazed and untroubled.

Ficen – Ill?

Stephanie didn't know why but the thought seemed too good to be true.

Stepping out from the room, feeling slightly perturbed still, she met Frenkin already waiting and ready in a pastel blue suit.

Stephanie frowned everytime she saw the outfits Alba chose for Frenkin. They played perfectly to Frenkin's personality of course; soft colours, endearing little bowties with either glossed back or perfectly tousled hair and usually his oversized glasses, but…this was the Hunger Games. What chance did Frenkin stand to make a meaningful impression with Alba dressing him like that?

"I see you were used as a drawing board," Haymitch commented dryly as he rounded the corner, a smirk toying at his lips though he seemed to wear a troubled expression of his own.

Stephanie tried to crane her neck as best she could, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn't see her back or what Bright and Lashes had been up to.

Frenkin tilted his head to the side slightly, considering for a moment before he added, "I think it's a horse."

Haymitch snorted in poorly concealed amusement as he glanced at Stephanie's back.

Stephanie arched an imperious brow for a moment. "I bloody well knew they were just doodling," she muttered as the two stylists at that moment chose to come out chatting together with Silver, Isa and Alba, Tess, El and Mirr in one big huddle that created enough noise to make Stephanie cringe, as they all headed for the lift.

The car ride to the racing tracks where Stephanie had finally learnt from Haymitch they were going after a hurried conversation as she gobbled down food at breakfast, was a relatively long one, but Stephanie found that she actually didn't mind as much.

The windows had been rolled down low in the cars much to Stephanie's amazement; though you would still have to have been smaller than Frenkin and a damn good contortionist if you were going to attempt to escape that way.

But Stephanie and Frenkin watched in wonderment as after the artificial Capitol, the buildings started to thin and soon enough in place of the smooth concrete slab pavements came lush, green grass that raced along beside the car.

Trees stood tall and mighty and Stephanie considered how she had never smelt air so clean, so fresh.

She had spent her whole life in District 3. The only greenery she had known was the small field of struggling grass beside her father's factory and the polluted river that ran through the whole District.

She was almost in awe as though she had somehow wandered into a different world. There was something comforting about the nature surrounding her, in that as far as she could tell it looked unmodified, natural – beyond the Capitol's control as blossoms on trees flourished from the light of a natural sun. There are things beyond the Capitol's control…

Haymitch watched the expressions flit across her face with something like tender amusement. He knew that in comparison to this, District 3 was like a barren wasteland of ash and grime where the only puddles were inky black, oil puddles and the air itself was a heavy smog. The only trees there were in District 3 rose like pillars of ash, long blackened and dead by the fumes from the factories, and the only scraggly flowers to be seen being hardy weeds of dull and faded colours.

"Enjoying the view?" Haymitch whispered to her, ignoring the fact that in the car with them were the stylists and Isa; not one of them gazing out the window.

Stephanie almost seemed reluctant to turn and face him – to tear her gaze away from the view outside. Haymitch grinned.

When she looked at him her eyes were the brightest gold he had ever seen since he had met her, and he realised for a moment she had truly allowed herself to forget that she was a tribute for the Hunger Games and all the rest of it.

She smiled at him; a brilliant, dazzlingly smile that was all the more beautiful to Haymitch not because of the pearly, white Capitol teeth or the scarlet colour they had dyed into her lips now; but because for a split moment she was truly happy, untroubled, unburdened.

Haymitch wished he could keep that expression on her face, the blissful happiness – but all too soon where she was crashed in on her, and her smile lessened slightly. Her expression was still content as she returned her gaze to the rolling landscape, but her eyes were dimmed; no longer the molten sunshine they had been seconds ago.

"We're here," Isa suddenly exclaimed and a ripple of excited murmurs sounded around the car.

Stephanie for once eagerly reached for the door handle and not even her unsteady swaying on the ridiculous Capitol heels could dampen her mood as she stepped out onto the gravelly road. The breeze swept across her like a cool whisper; almost cleansing her.

Seedy Capitol secrets, betrayal, deceit – all of it, was swept from her shoulders by the brisk, clean wind.

Stephanie felt a clearness, a level-headedness settle in her mind. For once the advice that had been passed down over the years filtered through; not just that she could understand the words, but that she was able to act on them.

Stay calm.

Don't panic.

Breathe…

She could win…

Trindlesworth victor blood ran in her veins.

She would win the Hunger Games.