Hello everyone and welcome to this new story. Some of you might already know me from my other Hayffie fanfic "Figure It Out"! This story here is set ten years before the 74th Hunger Games. It's Effie's first year as an escort, she meets Haymitch for the first time, and their story develops. "An Era Awakens" serves as the prequel to "Figure It Out". It would make most sense to start with AEA, but since I wrote FIO first, both can be read separately or in any order you please. But you will notice some common elements and easter eggs along the way. I don't want to reveal to much, I just hope you will like this story because I had a lot of fun writing it!
I don't own the Hunger Games saga or any character that's mentioned in Suzanne Collins's book, only those characters that I made up. Furthermore, I'm not a native English speaker. I translate all my fanfics from German, so I hope that most of my grammar is correct as well as the spelling etc., but there's of course no warranty!
I hope you enjoy reading!
Song inspiration for this chapter: Young Blood (The Naked and Famous)
Era Awakens
Effie stared excitedly at the densely packed wooden houses of District 12. She had only a few minutes to catch a glimpse of her District before the train would come to a stop. Enough time to realize that this place had nothing in common with the Capitol. The run-down buildings, covered in coal dust, were obviously in contrast to the capital city in both architecture and modernization. So much so that Effie, had she not seen this foreign city with her own eyes, would have believed she was no longer within the borders of Panem.
The scarce literature available on District 12 naturally confirmed this first impression: the smallest, poorest, most dispensable of the twelve Districts. And although knowledge was a freely accessible resource in the Capitol and highly valued, it had taken her considerable research to even find visual records of the District that showed places other than the square in front of the Justice Building where the Reaping is held. It had bordered on impossibility. As if District 12 existed only in people's minds, but not in reality. At least, this would match its presence in the Hunger Games, which, aside from the sole living victor, was virtually nonexistent.
In hindsight, Effie could have saved herself the effort. The records had been decades old, and despite the visible changes in construction and spread of the city, the typical characteristics had remained the same: a mix of stained, sooty brick and brittle wood. This theme ran through all parts of the District that the train passed by before it reached the station.
Given this fact, a creeping disappointment spread within Effie, which was, of course, ridiculous. She knew what to expect. How often had her own mother quashed her budding enthusiasm for her upcoming position by reminding her that the honor of representing District 12 was a limited one. The goal was to work with the opportunity she had been given. The goal was to use District 12 and any possible positive publicity as a steppingstone to a more prestigious District. Given the relatively young age of the other escorts, District 12 had been her only option to get a foothold in the Games. Effie could only wait and hope that one of her colleagues would decide to step down early, even though this almost never happened.
But now, it was time to shake off this negativity. Effie would do her best and she was convinced that her superiors would soon realize how much more valuable her work would be in a different District. She had studied her competition's work closely, so she knew how to stand out.
As the train compartment doors silently slid to the side, Effie straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin, and put on her brightest smile. Then, following Petunia Cajolery, the woman whose position she was taking over this year, she crossed the threshold and set foot in District 12 for the first time.
The oppressive heat was the first thing Effie noticed. The high humidity enveloped her skin like an additional layer, making it hard to breathe. A barely noticeable breeze moved the fine hairs of her wig and carried a scent to her nose that she only knew from perfume bottles – though much less intense. A distant smoky note lingered in the air, enveloping the run-down train station. Yet the fresh, foreign vegetation, unknown to Effie from the Capitol, was omnipresent. In her home, where greenery was confined to parks and bred forests, it was impossible to capture the true scent of nature. Here, far from civilization, the various nuances of the local flora evoked a single word in Effie's mind: nature. To her own surprise, the smell worked wonders on her racing heart. For a brief breath, both her mind and body came to a rest.
The flurry of camera flashes started so abruptly that Effie could only be thankful to be momentarily shielded by Petunia. Her forced smile wavered, but considering what awaited her here, it suddenly became much easier to make it genuine. Reporters and camera crews surrounded the two women, bombarding them with questions. It was unmistakable that they were trying, albeit only partly gently, to push aside the older woman to catch a first glimpse of her successor.
Successor. Effie had worked hard to be here and could look back on a long career as a model. Depending on whom you asked. At least, she tried to be proud.
Petunia had given her clear instructions for the stay, and Effie knew what to do. Pushing aside the strangely peaceful feeling from moments ago, she smiled and waved at the numerous cameras while they made their way through the crowd of reporters together.
Petunia was something like her mentor. As her predecessor, she showed her how to properly do the job of an escort and how to behave appropriately in that position. A position that so many beautiful, young women and men envied Effie for. Out of so many candidates, it was her, Effie Trinket, who had been chosen to succeed as the escort of District 12 in the annual Hunger Games. Even the profession of a Gamemaker was not as coveted, as there were far more than just twelve spots available.
After leaving the train station and stepping out into the relentless sun, the mayor of District 12 emerged to welcome the two Capitols. Standard procedure, as Petunia had already explained to Effie in advance. Mayor Undersee was a tall, bald man with a hurried handshake. No smile adorned his lips, Effie noticed, and she wondered if he wasn't excited about the Reaping. She definitely was.
As a line of Peacekeepers saluted and took their little luggage, they climbed into the tiny black car that had been provided for them. A model that must have been older than herself – emphasized by the worn leather seats, as Effie noted with a wrinkled nose.
"Remember," Petunia urged, shooting her a stern look. "You wait at the Justice Building while I deal with Abernathy."
Effie nodded and looked out the window. Here, in the center of the District, the poor little barracks had been replaced by larger, more solid concrete buildings, but even they couldn't keep up with those in the Capitol. Everything here seemed bland and dark. As if no one had cared about the state of the District for a long time. Only brown, gray, and black, as if people here had never seen colors.
Effie thought of her parents and what they would have to say about District 12. Surely nothing good. Her father, a long-established architect, would, just like herself, pounce on all the details that were as different from the Capitol as day and night. Her mother ... she would probably be shocked just by the sight of the District. For no amount of money or fame in the world would she set foot in this small town.
Soon, they both would sit down in front of the television with equal anticipation, watching their daughter. She had to make a good impression. She had to make them proud.
oOo
"Haymitch."
He was enveloped in darkness. Something was pounding in his head, but he couldn't be sure if it was the alcohol or sleep deprivation. He couldn't break free from the darkness. It offered security. It scared away the demons and didn't give his brain a chance to feed him unnecessary thoughts.
"Haymitch!"
Haymitch jumped. There was a dull crack as the bottle that had been in his hand a second ago hit the floor. Sighing, he raised his head. So he really hadn't imagined the voice. The incessant knocking only grew louder and more aggressive over the next few minutes. He took another deep breath and staggered to his feet from the kitchen table. It took a moment to shake the images away. He must have nodded off. His drink had spilled over the table, dripping over the edge onto the floor for some time. He would probably have to clean that up later.
"Haymitch Abernathy, if you don't open this door right now, I will make sure you are cut off from alcohol for the entire season!"
Well, great. It wasn't yet half past nine and Petunia was already on the mat. Haymitch squinted through the kitchen window. The morning haze had settled at the bottom of the window. A sign of a hot summer day. Another reason he loathed Reaping day.
But Haymitch Abernathy also had priorities. And alcohol was his top priority.
With a curse, he dragged himself to the door, only to fling it open with a burst of air. Petunia had positioned herself in full height before him. Her left arm was still raised, but he had flung the door open so wide that she could no longer reach the heavy wood with her hand. Her face had contorted into an angry mask, and her green eyes sparkled. Haymitch didn't even bother to invite her in, knowing too well that she would just march in without asking.
He wasn't disappointed. It was strange to see the woman standing in his kitchen a moment later. District 12's escort was dressed all in green, probably thinking it would flatter her eyes. The dress was tight on her body and made her look rather cheap. But the reason Haymitch burst into roaring laughter were the long fringes that covered her entire dress.
Petunia gave him an indignant look. Her left eye twitched. "You should be ashamed of yourself, Abernathy," she snapped at the former victor, throwing the bottle that had just been on the floor at him.
Haymitch caught it effortlessly and threw it over into the sink. "You look ridiculous," he said, laughing.
Immediately, the woman stalked up on him. Her disgusting perfume seemed to envelop him like an impenetrable cloud, and Haymitch felt like swatting at the air to dispel the scent. Capitol, everything about her screamed Capitol. It made his already upset stomach churn even more. "And as always, you're meddling in things you know nothing about," Petunia replied soberly, her face turning just a touch darker. Despite all the layers of makeup, which in Haymitch's opinion only made things worse, he could see it. "But I don't expect anything else from an alcoholic like you." While she spoke, she stepped back in disgust and waved a hand in front of her nose as if seeking help. His smell seemed to be equally displeasing to her. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he had taken a shower.
Haymitch glanced at the only clock in his house, just to make sure he hadn't misread it just now. "You're early, Petunia," he stated, and he gave her a look. "Odd, even for you, considering we both know how much you enjoy spending your oh-so precious time with me." Suddenly a mischievous grin crept onto his face and he opened his arms in her direction. "Or has that changed?"
Petunia was fuming, Haymitch could tell for sure. Whenever she made that face, all the wrinkles that she tried in vain to hide jumped out at him. "You're disgusting," she squeaked, her faked accent going up octaves. She raised her head and tried to stand upright, touching the ground as little as possible.
Haymitch hadn't bothered to clean up for Petunia. He never bothered to clean up. If he did it, it was only because he was looking for something. One look around his kitchen said it all. With a smirk on his lips, he leaned against the doorframe, so wide he was sure she wouldn't walk past him.
"Go take a shower, Haymitch," she ordered. "And find something appropriate to wear. If you don't show up at the Justice Building in ten minutes, then you're in for something!" With these words, she almost ran past him, contrary to what he had expected, leaving behind only the disgusting, sweet smell of her perfume. Her disdain for his house was apparently even greater than her disdain for him.
oOo
To be honest, Haymitch himself didn't know how he managed to get to the Justice Building without any incident. The alcohol hadn't completely left his system, and with every step he took, a sharp pain in his head made him wince. A typical Reaping day, then. Unfortunately, he didn't have enough alcohol in his bloodstream to completely bridge it with a blackout.
After standing in the shower for a minute and grabbing the first shirt that his wrecked wardrobe had thrown at his feet, he set off. Instead of entering the Justice Building through the front entrance, he preferred the back door. The fewer people who saw him, the better. Not because he was ashamed of his appearance or the alcoholized state of his brain, but because he couldn't stand the sight of the residents of 12. Especially not today. He could do without their reproachful looks, and there was nothing to say anyway.
Soon, Haymitch was standing in the long, large hallways, wondering where his obnoxious escort would be waiting for him. Until she finally broke him out of his thoughts in person.
"Look at you, that couldn't have been too hard," Petunia remarked and looked at him sublimely. She was still wearing the same ridiculous dress from earlier and standing at the end of the hallway. She must have come from the room behind. As she beckoned him over, her long earrings swayed back and forth.
Haymitch's grin had already disappeared on the way here and he felt miserable. He was tired, drunk and didn't feel like having to accompany the two jinxes of the coming Reaping to the Capitol. "Are you so stupid that you can't even read the clock anymore?" For a moment he thought about turning on his heel and leaving.
Petunia, who in his opinion must be well over the official age for escorts, seemed to see right through him. "Don't you dare, Abernathy." Then she was standing next to him and pressing her long nails into his upper arm. She dragged him down the hallway and started rambling on about something, but Haymitch had already turned his head off. He didn't listen to her, just followed her blindly.
"Haymitch! Are you even listening to me?" Petunia's shrill voice boomed in his ear.
Haymitch flinched and quickly freed himself from her grasp. Her perfume was messing too much with his senses. He coughed and took two big steps into the room.
The room wasn't long but wide. Opposite the door stood an empty stone fireplace. The floor was covered with thick carpets, and in the middle, there was a sofa, its back facing Haymitch. To the left, the mayor was conversing with two people. Some Avoxes were scurrying around, along with a few Peacekeepers and a worker from District 12.
"How is anyone supposed to concentrate on anything else with this reek of yours?" he grumbled, louder than intended. Mayor Undersee raised his head in his direction and gave him a brief nod.
"You're an ignorant drunkard!" While his voice had only carried as far as Undersee, Petunia made the rest of the people look up.
"You know, dragon, I'm wondering when we both switched to first names," he replied, throwing himself onto the sofa.
"I must not be hearing correctly," Petunia snapped at Haymitch, but instead of standing in front of him like he had thought she would, she remained quiet. "Well, as I just said, you shouldn't make it any harder for her than it already is. Coming into this job is an incredible honor, but very difficult at first, especially when assigned to a District like Twelve."
Haymitch felt the urge to hit her. Usually, he didn't hit women, but he would happily make an exception for Petunia. It took him a moment for the rest of her words to sink into his brain. "Wait … who is she? What the hell are you talking about?"
"You're an obnoxious man," Petunia hissed, tucking a lock of her ugly, orange hair behind her ear. "I'm retiring. A new one will continue my job starting this year. It was a huge honor to take on this position, even though it had less to do with you, but it's time to make way for the new generation!" Her eyes were shining and the smile on her lips looked hideous.
But the joy of Petunia's resignation was even greater. "Snow has finally realized that you're far too old and ugly for this job," Haymitch remarked, standing up from the sofa to stand at full height in front of her. "What a shame that I now have to make the life of another lovely lady a living hell."
"I guess that would be my cue then," a soft female voice chimed in, even before Petunia could scold him for his words.
A little taken aback, Haymitch turned to the voice that came from the door. Standing in front of them was a young woman in her late 20s. At least he thought she could be young under all that stuff because her face was covered in several layers of makeup. And yet you could still see her facial features underneath. She also wore a wig, light pink, but without any other accessories. The dress was definitely not as extravagant as the cleaning rag Petunia was wearing. Pink silk that fell gently and in multiple tiers over her hips. Some details on the upper body in black. Nothing more.
The woman approached them with a wide smile and Petunia seemed to relax a little. The next moment, however, she gave him a warning look. Then this figure had to be his new escort.
She came to a stop a few steps in front of Haymitch and held out her hand to him. Even with high heels, she was at least half a head shorter than him. "Good morning, my name is Effie Trinket. I will be the new escort of District Twelve, starting this year," she said calmly and with a little too much enthusiasm. Her bright, blue eyes beamed at him and for a moment he couldn't help but stare.
When the victor didn't take her hand but just gazed at her, Effie Trinket suddenly became nervous. She had no idea how to behave around people from the Districts and had thought this gesture would do it. She threw him an unsure look.
Haymitch, realizing that he was staring, made short work of his manners and briefly shook her hand. Her hands were surprisingly soft, completely different from what he had imagined. For whatever reason. He cleared his throat. "Haymitch Abernathy," he grumbled.
If, back then, Haymitch had been aware of all they would experience, of how their story would unfold, he almost certainly wouldn't have believed it.
A slight smile played on Effie's lips. "I look forward to our future collaboration."
Her self-assured, confident words made him laugh. "Better to not have any expectations, sweetheart" Haymitch quickly said, trying to make a few things clear right from the start. "I'm only here because the Capitol forces me to be. I can't help you or the children. As long as you stay out of my business, I'll leave you to do your thing. End of story."
Effie gave him a surprised look. Her eyes briefly flashed to Petunia, who made no move to say anything for her. Then her shoulders straightened, and she stood completely upright and at her full height in front of him. "Don't worry, we'll definitely get along perfectly fine. After all, we have a few more days to discuss our exact strategy," she said with a smile and gave him a short nod.
Now it was Haymitch's turn to look at her, somewhat surprised. She might have been a delicate person, slim and petite, but he immediately sensed that there was more to her than met the eye. Her voice was friendly, yet it left no room for debate. He sighed and tore his hair.
While Petunia went over the Reaping process with Effie, Haymitch wandered around the room and watched the Avoxes work. He was well aware of the Capitol's methods of silencing people. They didn't need the Avoxe as examples, but they did need people to do the hardest and most unbearable work for them.
"Aren't you preparing for the Reaping?" a gentle voice brought him out of his thoughts at that moment. He had drifted off and didn't even notice that Petunia and Effie were already finished. It took Haymitch a second to realize that Effie was serious with her question. How on earth do you prepare for the Reaping?
"No," he replied harshly and turned his head back to the Avoxes, who began to steal glances at him. What was this woman actually thinking? Just because they paid attention to every little detail in the Capitol didn't mean the same applied to the Districts. People in the Capitol just had too much time on their hands because they didn't have to contribute to their own system, and they filled their time with ridiculous parties and other nonsense.
Trinket didn't seem to notice his bad mood or was just very good at covering it up. She gave him a wide smile and clutched her clipboard to her chest. "I have a few questions regarding your approach to finding sponsors," she started talking and Haymitch wanted to turn his head off because her monologues were already getting on his nerves. "How have you and Petunia approached this so far? I've only been informed that I should discuss this matter with the respective victor, as it falls within their area of responsibility. Oh, by the way, is it alright, if we call each other by our first names? I don't want to overstep any boundaries."
Haymitch couldn't believe that Petunia hadn't told her anything about their approach. Although, of course, it would have been embarrassing to admit to her own protege that they had never actually conducted a sponsor search. "Of course," he began. "I understand that you're new here this year, and you think you can change everything for the better but hold on a second and really think about my words." He paused briefly to ensure he had her full attention because he didn't like to repeat himself. Her big blue eyes were fixed on him, and for a moment, he actually felt sorry for her. "This is District Twelve. We had one victor, that's me, but there won't be another victor because here, people would rather starve than go into the Games. Returning as a victor would be no honor, okay? It's just shame. So, just do the bare minimum and don't bother with it further because nobody else will either." With those words, he turned and strode to the couch. From across the room, Petunia shot him a murderous look.
"You can't just give up all hope like that," Effie almost called after him. "That would be incredibly callous and selfish. We're here to help the tributes, not to abandon them to their fate."
Why couldn't she understand? You couldn't help the unlucky ones who had to go into the arena anyway. Their fate was already sealed. But in the Capitol, they thought differently. She knew nothing. She was clueless. The Capitol had brainwashed her. For her, the whole world was colorful and happy.
Haymitch shrugged. Let her fall on her face if she thought she could change anything. "Then I'm sure you have no problem taking care of them," he said bluntly, giving her a distorted smile. A poor imitation of her own smile. It looked more like a sad grimace.
Since this is the first chapter, please let me know what you think in the comments! If you liked this chapter, I would be very happy about kudos! :)
