Chapter Three

The moon set and the sun rose hour by hour, and when his geese finally started making a racket out at the back, Haymitch woke up. His body and neck was stiff, having forced his frame on the sofa which was not the most comfortable of places to fall asleep. He reminded himself that there was a perfectly good bed upstairs and that this was his house to do as he pleased.

Haymitch climbed the stairs to his room and threw open the door. It momentarily slipped his mind that Effie was probably inside. He walked in on her dripping wet from her shower and very, very naked.

There was a loud audible gasp.

"Turn around!" she screamed, hastily wrapping and securing a towel around herself to preserve her modesty. He complied. "Don't you know how to knock?"

"Give me a break, sweetheart. I don't have to knock to enter my own room," he grumbled under his breath. "I forgot I have a woman in here."

He tilted his head slightly to the left and from the corner of his eyes, he could see her. Haymitch saw Effie putting her bra on, saw the long pair of legs he had been eyeing all these years and -

"You're peeking!" she accused him.

"What – No," he denied, startled at being caught, "don't be ridiculous."

"Don't look."

"Listen, sweetheart, we haven't done the toasting."

"The ... what?" she asked. "You can turn around now."

When he turned to face her, Effie was already dress and Haymitch, much to his own surprise, found himself slightly disappointed.

"You said something about toasting," she prompted when Haymitch remained quiet.

He rubbed his forehead uncomfortably, thinking of the best way to explain the custom to her.

"Here, in Twelve, weddings are done differently than in the Capitol. We have our own tradition, our own wedding ceremony," Haymitch began. Effie was listening to him intently, curious and wanting to know what Haymitch's intentions were. "When people get married here, they'll... sing a traditional song as the couple crosses the threshold of their new home but... I supposed that's a bit pointless now because here we are," he made a sweeping gesture. "They'll make their first fire and toast some bread - the toasting. It's only after all that is done that you're declared as husband and wife."

Effie nodded her head in understanding.

"Does it sound ridiculous to you?"

"Well, it's a bit different than what I'm used to but a tradition is a tradition," she said, standing in front of him. "When do you want to have this toasting?"

Haymitch blinked. It took him awhile to understand that Effie had just agreed to the toasting when he had expect her to disagree since they usually could never agree on anything.

"We need bread," he cleared his voice.

"I'll ask if Peeta could help us with that," Effie smiled before brushing past him to call Peeta.

The moment she left, Haymitch sank on the bed, head cradled in his hand in disbelief. Was this really happening to him?

The wedding they had at the Capitol had seemed like someone else's memory, someone else's wedding. Haymitch hardly felt like he had been married even as they stood before the Registrar to sign their marriage papers. That was a formality, a legal requirement from the Government. It didn't seem real to him but the toasting, that would be real.

Haymitch had been brought up with the toasting as a marriage practice. No toasting, no marriage. Once, when life was simpler or as simple as it could get for two teenagers in a starving district, he and his girl had made plans to get married. Sweet, lovely Myra with her dark hair and gray eyes. He couldn't remember with perfect clarify how she looked like. Her face had faded over the years but he always remember how he felt around her. Nervous, happy, cocky and always looking forward to see her.

He shut his eyes and tried not to think of his girl. He forced himself to think about what was about to happen. If he went through the toasting with Effie, he would have to accept the fact that she is his wife.

XxX

"I'll be back," he told Effie.

Haymitch went out to gather the firewoods from town. Someone had taken the opportunity to start selling them since the law had been passed and it proved to be quite a lucrative business. When he returned home, Effie was waiting for him dressed in a cream sundress with printed floral designs. It looked simple by her standard.

"Katniss didn't say if I needed a white dress. I - I don't have any white dresses. Will this be okay for you?"

"It's fine," he nodded without even looking at her. Haymitch continued to arrange the firewood carefully in the fireplace.

"Will you be inviting anyone, Haymitch? Some friends or –"

"Just Katniss and Peeta."

"Are you sure because the more –"

"Just get them, Trinket," he snapped without meaning to.

"Abernathy," she whispered quietly. "That's my name now - you might as well get used to it."

His movements stilled and in the silence stillness of their home, the wind carried her voice along with the stricken, hurt emotions Effie felt. He shouldn't have snapped at her, not at the woman who had accepted to go through with a wedding ceremony she wasn't familiar with because he had asked.

"Effie," he called out to her but she had left in a hurry to get away from him.

With a frustrated sigh, Haymitch went up to their room, changed his shirt and attempted to do something about his hair. At least, he thought, Effie could not accuse him for not putting in any effort into looking somewhat decent. The shirt he changed into was slightly rumpled and creased on the sleeves but at least it was clean and that would have to do.

By the time he went back down, Katniss and Peeta was already seated in the living room with a glass of wine in hand. Effie stood nervously to the side, her hands wrung together.

"Come sit, Effie. It'll be fine," Katniss assured her.

"Tell me again what I will need to do," Effie asked.

Haymitch stopped outside the doorway, out of their sight and listened as Effie rehearsed the steps to the toasting with Katniss and Peeta, trying to commit it to memory.

"So, Haymitch and I will light the fire and then, you'll pass us the bread, won't you, Peeta? We'll toast it and ... do we say something to each other? I haven't prepare anything and it'll be the height of rudeness to reuse the vows we made at the Capitol."

"Effie, just calm down, alright? There's no real need for a speech - some people do it, some people don't. The important thing is the toasting. Haymitch isn't a man of many words so I doubt he will be giving any."

"Are you absolutely certain? I want this to be as perfect as possible," she said. Haymitch could imagine her biting her lower lip as she said it. "I'm just worried that's all. He brought it up, so it must be important to him or he wouldn't talk about it at all."

Having heard enough and not wanting Effie to have a meltdown, Haymitch chose that moment to walk in.

"No speech, okay?" he told her.

Haymitch took Effie by the elbow and led her in front of the fireplace. Together, with his guidance, they lighted their first fire. When the fire came to life, there was a surprise gasp from Effie as she turn to give him a small smile. She stared at the fire, entranced by it as it slowly licked away at the firewood. Haymitch took the bread from Peeta and with a gentle tap to get Effie's attention, well wishes from Peeta and Katnis, and wine in everyone's hand, Haymitch and Effie completed their private toasting.

I'm married, the thought flashed through his mind.

XxX

That night, when he entered the bedroom, he found Effie in front of the vanity mirror wearing a silk nightgown. The red was so deep he had mistaken it for black. She brushed her hair slowly and methodically. Effie had grown her hair long over the last few years. It had been cut short into a pixie after she was extracted from prison.

He stood behind her uncertainly. When their eyes caught in the mirror, he raised his hand, palm open to show her the gold bracelet he held.

"I was from the Seam, my family was cloaked in poverty but this," he moved his hand towards her, "I was told, belonged to my grandmother before the Dark Days. One of the only possession left from the past so.. it's old. She gave it to my mother."

Effie turned around in her seat to look up at Haymitch.

"It's beautiful," she said, running her fingers gently along the bracelet.

"I dug it out from the place my mother buried it when I went to get firewood," he informed her. "She had to hide it from my father; he wanted to pawn it away to finance his gambling habit and to feed the family. My mother refused to have it sold. She insisted that she could take on extra jobs to feed us," he cleared his throat. "It meant a lot to her but it's yours now."

"Mine?" she asked uncertainly.

"Yeah," he said. "Just... don't try to sell it away."

"I would never do that," she exclaimed, slightly affronted that Haymitch found the need to tell her that in the first place. "But I – I can't have this, Haymitch. It belonged to your mother."

"It did- once, a long time ago," he scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. "If she was here for the toasting today, she would have given it to you. Her mother gave it to her the night before her toasting. Take it."

Haymitch held his hand out. Effie sat staring at the bracelet, making no move to take it from him. For a brief second, he was actually worried that a woman like her, so used to the finer luxuries in life would find the gift rather lacking. It was an old bracelet after all. He had cleaned it as best as he could but he doubted she found something buried for years under the earth fanciful.

Weary of waiting, he placed it on the vanity. He had done as his mother instructed him so many years ago when he had helped bury it at he meadow - he had given it to the woman he married - and if Effie did not want it then he would keep it at the attic where he stashed everything he did not want to look at ever again, including all twelve of his Victor's plague from his tour.

"Thank you, Haymitch," she said. "It's lovely. I - Thank you."

He glanced behind his shoulder. Effie had wrapped it around her wrist but was struggling to fasten the clasp together. Haymitch turned to face her, watching her quietly. He did not offer her his assistance. When she finally managed to clasp the hook, Effie flicked her hand. The bracelet slid down her tiny wrist, slightly loose.

Her movements were tentative and hesitant as she approached him and kissed him softly on his cheeks. Haymitch held his breath at the feel of her lips. He exhaled slowly as he pulled away, raising his hand to touch the spot where she had kissed him only to realise what he was doing and jammed his hand into his pocket.

Effie offered him a smile to filter out the tension. "This was a charm bracelet," she remarked, pointing to the places where the charms should have been. "What happened to it?"

"It got lost over the years, maybe," he shrugged.

She kept on touching and twisting the bracelet somewhat mesmerised by it. His eyes, inadvertently followed the movement of her fingers and before he could stop himself, Haymitch took her hand in his. He mimicked her actions, tracing the bracelet and then the wedding band on her finger, a plain silver ring with gold plating around the edges. A small diamond rested on top of the ring, glittering brightly as it reflected the overhead light. His own ring was of the same design albeit without the diamond stone.

His hand remained where it was. Haymitch rested his thumb on her inner wrist, feeling her pulse beating steadily. His eyes flickered up to her face. Effie blushed, her tongue darted out to lick her lips.

"Haymitch, we haven't - we should… "

He blinked, his brain needing a moment to catch up on what she was trying to tell him.

"You're right."

They stood awkwardly, each waiting for the other to make the first move. He acted first, pulling her close to him gently as he trailed his hand up her arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake. Haymitch tilted her chin up.

Outside, an owl hooted. A gust of wind blew through the crack in their window. Effie shivered but he never knew if it was because of the cooling wind against her skin or because his lips was on hers at that very second.

XxX

If he had any reservations, it left him the moment Effie's arms wound around his neck and kissed him back, her touch so soft and so vivid against his skin. If anyone were to ask why he had not wanted to bed Effie Trinket like he had drunkenly claimed during their wedding feast, he would not be able to answer because her lips were like soft pillows and when her tongue skimmed his lower lip, Haymitch was lost.

He enjoyed kissing her more than he would allow himself to admit. Haymitch was aware that there were far too many layers of clothings between them

The drawstring of her nightgown came undone scant seconds later. Haymitch left her lips for her neck and trailed his tongue along her jaw line. Her hand curled on the front of his shirt while the other played with the small hairs at the nape of his neck. As he slid the deep red garment off her shoulders, his breath caught in his throat the moment he realised that she had nothing underneath those except for her underwear.

Minx, he thought. He wondered if she had planned to seduce him that night and consummate the marriage but batted the thought away. It was unlikely.

He kissed her; his tongue delving into her mouth, running it over her teeth as his hand tangled itself in her hair, knotting it together as they moved back towards the bed. Effie's legs collided with the edge of the bed and she fell backwards, grabbing the collar of Haymitch's shirt instinctively, pulling him down on top of her.

She gave a nervous laugh and Haymitch smiled down at her despite it all. Effie brought her hand up and ran it over the planes of his face; tracing a finger over his eyebrow, down his nose and across his bottom lip.

"We'll make it through this, Haymitch," she whispered.

He had no idea what she meant - the consummation? Being married to each other? Surviving through this charade of a law? – so he just nodded.

As if that was all the encouragement that Effie needed, she began to fumble with the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning them guided only by her sense of touch since Haymitch had turned off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. She had stiffened instinctively and asked in a whisper why he had done that but Haymitch kissed her, effectively silencing her.

Haymitch had his reasons. He wanted their consummation to be over fast and he had foolishly thought that he would be able to through and be done with it but he was a man, and he wasn't fooling himself. Gone was the fast and clinical plan he had in mind. He had unexpectedly found himself lusting after this woman, after Effie Trinket of all people. Turning off the lights and flooding out his sense of sight and with it, Effie's face, had been a spur of a moment decision.

But she's your wife now; it's acceptable to want her.

He ignored the voice, forcing himself to concentrate on the feel on her beneath him.

He kneaded her breast as his free hand traveled further south. Effie let out a soft moan, her warm breath against his cheek and Haymitch was ensnared. His hand ghosted over her mound, teasing tantalizingly and it elicited a respond Haymitch was not expecting.

"Haymitch," she breathed out softly, almost pleadingly.

He couldn't remember the last time he was with a woman, a year ago, he supposed during one of the many post-war parties he had been made to attend, and he wasn't sure how to treat a woman he was supposed to face again in the morning. Most of his encounters had been simple one night stands, something he did to satisfy a man's basic need.

Haymitch managed, like he always had all these while and soon, Effie had not a stitch of garment on her and neither did he. Her hands roamed his chest in the dark, feeling and touching, and tracing the scar on his stomach.

"I have them, too," she said, despondently.

"I know."

Haymitch had never seen them before but he could feel the raised tissues at random places on her skin. He kissed her neck again, biting and nipping gently. He swirled his tongue on her ear lobe and kissed his way down the hollow of her throat and between the valley of her breasts before taking a nipple in his mouth. He rolled it with his tongue expertly making her gasp, her hand gripping tightly onto his hair. It hurts but the pain heightened his senses. He felt himself throbbing with a desire he had never before knew he had for Effie.

His hand travelled down again. Effie writhed underneath him. She was wet, aching and ready enough for him.

In the dark, with the pale moon shining through a sliver crack of the window and into their room, he could see the outline of her face as he towered over her. Haymitch positioned himself at her entrance and paused; he was breathing deeply through his mouth, his body quivering with anticipation.

"Please," she begged. "Please, Haymitch."

When he entered her, wet and warm and so tight, Haymitch squeezed his eyes shut, letting the feeling wash over him. He could feel her stretching to accommodate him. The feel of her nails raking against his back, and the tightness of her walls around him was making him heady. Haymitch waited for her to adjust to the feeling of him in her and when he felt her raising her hips slightly in response, he began to move. He tried to pace himself, refusing to let it end before it even began but Effie made it impossible to.

She thrust her hip up, making him grunt into her ear. There was a sloppy moment when they both tried to find a suitable rhythm. Effie was going slowly and he followed her, not wanting to rush it. He kissed the corner of her mouth and when she turned her head to kiss him, he bit her lower lip.

He increased his pace. Effie said nothing except to moan and stroke his neck. It spurred him on. Effie panted heavily in his ear, her arms wrapped around him, holding on to him as if her life depended on it.

The steady cadence of their coupling gave way to his erratic thrusting as he reached his peak. He smirked when she squirmed beneath him, writhing and moaning. His name fell from her lips, throaty with desire. Her soft sighs and careless whimpers unraveled him. He pounded into her with abandon. Her walls clamped tight around him and Haymitch slumped against her, utterly spent.

It's done. We've consummated.

His mistake was with his preoccupation that they had just consummated their marriage. Haymitch rolled off her and lie on the bed, completely oblivious to the fact that Effie had never reached her own climax.

I've always thought the toasting ceremony Katniss mentioned in the book was fascinating & never had the chance to incorporate that into any of my stories until Consortium. So if that's not how you imagined the toasting, I'm real sorry about it. It's how I interpret it. On another note, in my head, I imagined that the first night together as a married couple would have some sort of awkwardness to since it's a whole new level, and a whole new role for each party.

Please review! It would make me happy and also, thank you for all the reviews for the previous chapters. :)