Chapter 58: The Candle and The Coin
"What an exciting year!" Caesar roared, stepping out into the spotlight in his typical garish outfit. The crowd screamed out in joy at Caesar's address. "This year's been marvelous for the games, if I say so myself." He chuckled and looked at his crew with a pointed look.
They motioned wildly to each other and Caesar, pointing to the clipboards in their hands. Caesar was ahead of schedule. He had to be. The Head Gamemaker's interview was canceled at the last minute, now there was an empty gap in the broadcast and ceremony with no one to fill it. Well, no one but Sera.
"Not every year we get two victors let alone one from District 12!" He carried on with his improvised script. "And I have to say those two—the star-crossed lovers from District 12, there's no other victors like them or…will be like them." He laughed and the crowd followed his cues.
The silent message was obvious. Too obvious. It was clear that President Snow had sent a memo to him, telling him to emphasize that Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark were one of a kind pair. The only pair that would get the chance to survive together.
There would be no other pair.
A clear warning for future tributes.
'Don't try what they did. You won't succeed.'
Caesar moved on and a chair appeared. "Now, usually this is the part where I bring up the esteemed Head of the games." Caesar continued. "But unfortunately, due to things out of my control, he's not going to be here tonight."
The crowd let out a chorus of 'aw's, disappointed at the absence of Seneca Crane.
"I know. I know." Caesar cooed, clutching his chest with a thin feigned sad smile as if he was heartbroken. "It breaks my heart to break away from traditions but come on, this year's been the least traditional year so far. We've got two victors for goodness sake! We've never had that before!"
Once again, he'd taken back control of the crowd.
"But I'm sure Seneca would've loved to be here. I mean we all spoke to him this morning and his little interview was amazing. It's just a shame that he can't join us tonight."
Because he was dead. His body had already been found 'officially' but his death hadn't been announced yet. They wouldn't or else they'd disrupt the celebrations.
"So we'll just skip right to the part we're all looking forward to but don't worry, you'll have an even bigger surprise later on."
Caesar clapped his hands together and the faces of Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark appeared behind him, looking solemn and so much more innocent in their pre-games photos.
"Ladies and gentlemen, joining us tonight for the main event of the Victory Ceremony, our victors this year for the annual 74th Hunger Games, from District of the coals, District 12, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark!"
Katniss and Peeta were thrust into the spotlight as the two made their way to their seats. Like a flickering candle, Katniss' canary yellow dress swayed in the autumn wind as she made her way to her seat. She held onto Peeta who was dressed in a blue suit, a slight pause in his steps. He had a limp, a side effect of the games.
Two flames, both with different intensities.
"Seraphine." President Snow's icy voice beckoned her to him. "Did you do what I asked?"
She stood on the edge of his office, near the tall double doors that overlook her small form and far from the President. He, like usual, was sitting comfortably in his seat by his desk, scribbling away at some paperwork she wasn't privy to. Maybe someone like Plutarch would be allowed near his desk but not her.
A single nod and she clasped her hands together, stopping herself from digging her nails into her palms.
"He admitted to overscoring Miss Everdeen."
"The training score?"
"Yeah, apparently she pointed her bow at the gamemakers during the training evaluations and shot a…hog."
"And he thought overscoring her highly would make her an easy target."
"Seems so."
He scoffed dismissively. "Anything else?"
For a split second, she thought about keeping his granddaughter's interruption to herself—he'd know anyway. One of the Peacekeepers would tell him.
"Your granddaughter interrupted the meeting—only the beginning. I don't think she'll suspect anything."
President Snow acknowledged her words but gave her nothing in return, his eyes fixed on the screen while his assistant stood outside the windowed door, counting the time. He took his eyes off the screen where Caesar was joyfully tearing into the new victors while Katniss and Peeta did their best to play along. Peeta seemed to do a better job than Katniss, still she was learning. A quick learner.
"Did she ask Crane anything?"
"Not much." Sera said, recalling the events from the afternoon earlier. "But I think it would be best to not announce Crane's death any time soon."
"Thank you for your suggestion, Miss Reza. I'll take your suggestion." There was a finality to his tone.
Crane's death would never be announced. He'd fade into obscurity. That was worse than death for someone like Crane, someone like Scarus and someone like President Snow. The people in the Capitol seemed to enjoy notoriety.
But that had nothing to do with her. She'd do her job as she was told and leave.
"I think it's time." Sera said, checking the clock on the wall of his office.
He rose from his seat and draped his white coat around himself, signaling for an avox or two to come and kill the fire still burning in the fireplace. He let Sera lead the way to Caesar's set-up outside the Presidential Palace.
Still dressed in the silvery chiffon dress that she'd seen Seneca Crane off in, she felt oddly out of place—nothing unusual. Now and then, she'd pause to look at her gloved hand or her skirt to check if there were any specs of blood or any remnants that she'd seen Crane.
There wasn't.
Yet Sera couldn't help it.
Sera hung her head low and pulled at her gloves, nervous to walk beside Snow. Admittedly, Katniss was one of the reasons why she was so nervous. The two knew each other now and unfortunately for her, that girl was an open book. Sera was afraid she'd give her away and open the door to more questions from Snow.
"And I think that wraps up our session." Caesar announced but the cameras didn't stop rolling and flashes kept going. "It was a joy to have you both here with me tonight! It'd be awful if only one of you made it out!" His forced laughter was like nails on the chalkboard for her and she had to pause to study Snow's impassive expression before moving forward.
"Great to be here." Peeta shook Caesar's hands and helped Katniss up. "We'll see each other soon."
"Oh, we will, won't we?" He chuckled and looked to the side where his assistant held up a board with the time and schedule. "Once more ladies and gentlemen, your victors: Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark!"
Applause rain down on them and two avoxes appeared just as Caesar's camera stopped rolling but the flashes carried on. Katniss blanked out and followed Peeta along, her hand in his. The two were led to two raised thrones for the crowning ceremony.
Between the two thrones, Katniss' throne was obviously a new addition. It was less worn down and the handles didn't have dents or scratches, Sera remembered hers having and it was the same for Zephyr.
Sera couldn't help but check on the President. His face was the perfect mask of indifference. She couldn't tell a thing anymore and the closer they got to the two victors, the harder it was for her to find a crack in his mask.
No doubt, he had chosen Katniss to sit on the new throne. He didn't acknowledge her as the victor. To him, Peeta Mellark was the only one who should've come out from that arena. He didn't want two, only one.
She was wrong.
She was wrong when she'd let Crane believe that a Quarter Quell would be the only time two victors would be possible. Not under Snow, it wouldn't. Even if it was the 100th Hunger Games, Snow would never allow more than one to escape and it would always be one. Just one was enough for the game to go on.
Two victors was one too many.
She paused just as Snow did in front of the elevated platform. Katniss still hadn't noticed her but she'd noticed Katniss.
"President Snow will announce and crown the victors," Caesar had reappeared, wearing more muted colors and more somber expression. "Accompanying him in the absence of the Head Gamemaker, victor of the 68th Hunger Games, Seraphine Reza."
A few confused murmurs swam through the wave of crowds and some cheers from people who didn't care enough to question. She'd caught a few exchanges as she followed Snow closely.
"Aw, Head Gamemaker Crane's gonna miss this."
"Crane seemed so ambitious, I was looking forward to his speech."
"Have we ever had a victor give a speech in place of the gamemaker?"
"Never." The answer made her slow down in her gait. "This is the first and I'm so excited!"
Scanning the crowd, she waved at them, hushing them with a wave or two as she flashed them her signature hollowed smile. Like a clockwork, they fell into mindless trance as they waved back vigorously and called out her name affectionately.
She took Caesar's hand and ignored the flash of surprise on Katniss' face. Her surprise quickly turned to fear as her hand reached for Peeta's. Her hand tightened around his like he was her rock and she turned away.
A pang of guilt hit her and she swallowed the bitterness. She wasn't Katniss' enemy. "Good evening, Panem." Sera began, looking down at the speech Emilia had prepared.
The crowd grew quiet at her address and she nodded to herself; she had their attention.
"It has been a very exciting year of Hunger Games for us. This year has given us its…" She had to force herself to continue and erase the images of her old allies from her mind. "first ever star-crossed lovers from the same district, alongside not one but two victors from District 12, the coal district. Now, I can stand here and say a lot about Twelve but I'm ashamed to admit; I don't really know much about Twelve. I know Five's the one in-charge of the electricity for most of Panem but Twelve is just as important and it's a shame that we don't celebrate Twelve as much for their coal. It's also a shame that Twelve only has two victors until this year but from this year onwards, Twelve becomes the first district to have two victors from the same game! How exciting is that?"
A series of voracious 'yeses' responded to her. She could see Peeta from the corner of her eyes, entertaining them with acknowledging polite nods and Katniss attempting to mimic that.
"And tonight, we celebrate that and crown them victors of the most memorable Hunger Games since the creation of Hunger Games." She shuffled the papers and skipped to the end. "I should also congratulate the Head Gamemaker Crane—whose absence is being felt here—for giving us a show stopping game and the highest rated Hunger Games since the 65th Hunger Games!"
Applause interrupted her and she nodded along. She was done with her part and swiftly, she got off the stage, nodding to her silent helpers off to the side to bring the bouquets in time for the crowning. President Snow took her spot.
The crowd hushed immediately, many smiles dying. He said a few words, thanking Crane for his service with little to no words being offered to either victors. He didn't acknowledge them much but that was normal. He did the same for all the other games and like all the other games, he took a step back, gesturing to start the anthem.
When the anthem ended, a single crown was brought forward. Sitting on a plush velvet cushion, the image was not so new to her. For a second, it was like she was fifteen again, so small with her feet barely touching the raised throne as she forced herself to play her usual part.
But there was one crown.
A single crown.
But there were two victors.
Sera awkwardly turned to the side of the curtained stage, at the stagehands. Nobody made a move. With their hands in front of them, they stood with bowed heads like this was a part of the show. She wasn't aware of any of this. She wasn't even supposed to be there.
She could feel the eyes of the Capitolites in the crowd go back and forth between the crown and the victors. Their attention was only split by her presence.
In silent horror that she masked well enough, she focused on the crown. Everyone was asking each other in the crowd and even Caesar, offstage, was confused about the crown situation.
Two victors, one crown: who was the real victor?
President Snow was unphased. He reached for the crown and twisted the top. The crown fell apart and reformed into two. She caught the spark in his eye. This was his show and he'd take back control no matter what. He held up the first crown for the crowd to see.
There were two crowns now, the second crown rested while the first was waiting in the hands of President Snow to sit on the head of the victor. He brought the crown over to the victors, placing the first crown on Peeta Mellark. Snow's victor.
The second crowning was slow and drawn out, Snow backed away and gave Peeta ample time to be worshiped and awed at. This was where the ceremony should've end and it usually did.
Peeta got a smile out of Snow, not a genuine one—never a genuine smile from the President but a polite one he reserved for state dinners with Senators he actually liked and Sera when he was in a good mood. Katniss, on the other hand, got a crown on her head and a simple acknowledgement of 'you won'. That was it.
No other words were traded and President Snow stepped away, gesturing to her to follow him like the shadow she was. Katniss took her trembling gaze off the President to study her. If she was afraid, she'd done a great job of hiding it from Sera. All she could really get from Katniss' face was confusion.
More cheers and screams followed. Then it was Sera's part again. Two silent helpers brought forward her bouquets and she hesitated between them. Her intention was to give Katniss her bouquet and move on quickly to Peeta, avoid a confrontation or anything.
Unfortunately, she couldn't go against Snow's order. A short greeting to the new victors and a quick study, that was all she had to do.
So she plucked Peeta's bouquet up and passed it to him gracefully with a quick missed glance at her gloves. Not a trace of Crane on her. "Congratulations! I look forward to the victory tour." She said like she'd rehearsed in her head.
"Thank you!" Peeta gratefully took the bouquet of gladiolus, purple hyacinths, yellow lilies, white anemone, tamarack and red catchflies.
"And you too, we'll talk more later!"
Taking a step back, she turned to Katniss. She was handed Katniss' bouquet and for a second, she felt like she had remnants of Crane on her again. Katniss' piercing gray eyes met hers, it was like she could see through her.
A still Seneca with desperate wandering bloodshot eyes looked up at her, reaching for her with his phantom limbs. She slipped out of the marbled room with an entourage of Peacekeepers while his eyes cried out for her to stay and help.
"...Congratulations on your victory." She squeezed out and passed her the bouquet of begonias, purple hyacinths, yellow lilies, orange mocks, stems of tamarack and…
"Primroses…" Katniss hugged the bouquet close to her chest and her eyes shook. "Thank you."
A crack in her mask and a heavy lump in her throat, she kept her poise and nodded. "You're welcome." Sera patted her hand with her gloved ones and backed off quickly.
Katniss' smile was strained. Her eyes heavy with sleep and pain while her hands held onto Peeta tight as if he was her lifeline. On the other hand, Peeta looked almost natural and at home among the cheers and awes of the crowds of Capitolites.
Almost.
Maybe it was only her but she could see the toll the games took on him as well. The hand that wasn't holding Katniss' was wrapped around his own thigh. His eyes were wide open, haunted and on alert.
The only time his smile was real was when he checked on Katniss, here and there. Whenever she wasn't looking, Peeta would sneak glances at her to see if she was okay. She wasn't okay, she stared at the primroses in a silent trance and tried to find Sera but she'd slipped away, following President Snow to prepare for the Victory Banquet.
She slipped out the dress she'd worn almost all day and watched it get dragged away by her team before they quickly got to work. She slipped into a silvery-white dress that looked windblown perpetually. No doubt, a nod to the wind farms from Five.
No flowers decorated her apart from Finnick's gift that hung from her neck. Mica and Harp had managed to hide her blemishes and scars on her arm for the night. None of her team ever asked where she'd get them from and she kept it that way.
She left them and went back out to the Presidential Palace with Emilia following her. The two lingered on the outskirts of the waves of crowds circling the victors like vultures studying their prey before they swooped down to pick them apart.
Haymitch Abernathy, stood to the side with a forced awkward smile as he bowed and thanked a few sponsors. His movement everso jittery like always. But for a fleeting moment, his attention was lost and he stared off into a dark corner.
"Does he do that a lot?" Sera asked Emilia and picked up a glass with pale gold liquid.
She passed it to Emilia who took a sip and said. "Apple juice. Should be safe for you." And she passed it back to her. "Are you talking about the…drunkard?"
"He's not exactly drunk tonight," Sera noted and greeted a few passers-by. "Or has been for the entire game."
"A feat for him, no doubt."
"That's…not what I asked."
"You're asking if he acts abnormally and I said yes."
"I mean, does he do that a lot—" She discreetly motioned towards the dark corner where Haymitch was staring at again.
Emilia moved around, pretending she was fixing her dress and trying not to trip. "Stare off into the distance? Then, yes. He's…not normal and everyone knows that. I think he's losing his mind."
"And you've been saying that for the past few years." Sera took a careful sip from her drink, swirling it around. "I think he's the sanest he's ever been and that's a good thing. It's good he's sane or those two wouldn't have made it."
Her assistant snorted like Sera had told a joke. "I don't know what they were thinking about that girl. She seems too…explosive to ever take charge."
"She's not ever going to take charge."
Plutarch wouldn't let someone so inexperienced like Katniss ever take charge, she'd be a symbol and that was all she'd ever be. If not Plutarch then…
Maybe she'd be fed a lie or two to make her think that her choices had any impact like Sera had before she figured it out. None of it really mattered in the end if her family didn't survive.
Sera played with her necklace and looked around the room. President Snow at the edge of the room, keeping an eye on the two victors. She stayed away and kept Emilia by her side while dodging both victors. She'd rather not say another word to Katniss.
That girl had questions that Sera would never want to answer. Fortunately for her, the kettle of vultures still circled around Katniss, separating her from Peeta who was desperately trying to reach. If not him, she'd spare a glance or two at Sera in silent plea to save her from the crowd. Sera stayed away.
Huxley had told her that the best way to make those vultures scatter was to do nothing. Just nothing at all. Sera recalled that she'd taken his word to heart especially after her first meeting with President Snow. She had just stood there in the center of the storm doing absolutely nothing but giving them a hollow smile and pretending to stare off into the distance like she was a doll.
They'd all gotten so bored so quickly that they all left in droves away from her. She couldn't even answer their questions and didn't really bother to. Just nodding, humming and looking off into the distance. Apathy was the right way to get to these Capitolites. They wanted a show, a reaction and Sera gave them nothing just like her brother-in-law and mentor had done before her.
"I think Katniss wants to talk to you." Haymitch had managed to cut through the storm and get to the other side, her little safe spot and make a place for himself. "She's been eying you the whole evening. What'd you do? All I know is that you…you're not supposed to be here tonight."
"And neither is she." Sera bit back, more harsh than she intended to.
He awkwardly pulled at his collar. "Yeah, well…"
"I'm only filling in for Crane, he's…unavailable and hard to reach at the moment."
"Huh. Here I thought he'd be first in line to celebrate the games this year." He'd traded her empty glass in her hand and slipped another full glass in its place. She looked at the glass and then back at him with a dark look. "Just apple juice, heard you like this kinda stuff." He grumbled out and took a huge gulp of his own. "And before you ask, I am sober—unfortunately and this is just water—flavored water." He made a disgusted face and looked like he was about to vomit.
Sera took a side step away from him. No way she was getting his vomit on her dress or anywhere around her. She even turned away from him. She'd rather not witness Haymitch Abernathy or anyone throw up or she'd start feeling sick too. She was that sensitive to vomit that she had to leave whenever anyone would start feeling sick and throwing up.
"Relax, I'm not gonna throw up. I just…really hate these flavored waters." He held up a pale shimmering bronze liquid in his glass, sloshing it around its crystal confines to show her the flavored water. "What even is this crap?"
"Flavored water." Sera repeated blankly.
"Walked right into that one." He sighed and downed his drink.
"I think that one is pineapple." She winced at the pungent cloying scent of pineapple coming from the glass. "Tried it once and it was…well, it was something."
"So it's just bad…I didn't get a bad batch? This is just bad?"
She nodded. "You know…" She looked around the busy crowd. "They use that stuff to throw up their food. It's the stuff they take with them after they take the pill to make themselves throw up."
He made a face and looked like he was about to gag. "I swear to—Effie lied to me."
"Here," Sera passed her cup. "If you're trying to stay sober, juices are pretty good for people trying to stay sober."
"This is just for the night." Haymitch took the cup and drank from it, making a face. "Too sweet. How do you drink this stuff?"
"Could say the same for you with all that liquor." Sera muttered and his mask cracked, his lips quaked up into a small grin. "I wonder if you, Chaff and Wells are in a competition to see who'd kick the bucket first out of a liver failure."
"Nah, they'd probably take us into a hospital and replace the bad liver then push us to carry on." He grumbled. "Can't have a victor die that easily, can they?"
Sera rolled her eyes. "They really can't force you to get an operation." She muttered.
"How'd you know that?" She turned to him and smiled. "Ah, I did hear rumors but I didn't think it was true. So are you…actually…you know…?"
"Dying?" Sera spelled it out and twisted a strand of her hair around her finger.
His heart dropped and he felt a wave of sadness wash over him as Sera looked up at him with the same smile she'd given him the first time they'd met. Her eyes still as bright as they were back then like she was untainted by the aftermath of the games.
He had to look away and speak to her. He couldn't stand to see her now that he knew. "Well, when you put it like that…are you?"
"I don't know. I haven't really decided." She meant it, an honest answer that she'd usually keep to herself. "Who knows? Maybe, I'll change my mind and we'll see. But that's not why you're here, is there?"
"Sharp." Haymitch commented and laughed. "You really haven't changed." He added. "Here, I thought you'd be more insufferable like the company you keep but here you are, still so…naive."
Sera laughed. "I'm not the one drowning my misery in alcohol."
"We all have our different poisons and everyone should be glad that Twelve has a medicine shortage—"
"Or you'd be a morphling addict?"
"Yep, and that stuff tastes nasty."
"It's not not that bad if you have it with something sweet."
"Speaking from experience?"
"Yes." She left it at that. Nothing more needed to be said.
Haymitch tried to look at her and again had to turn away. His chest was tight whenever he'd even sneak a peek at her. He could laugh but only when he'd turned away from her.
He pitied her and she hated it whenever anyone pitied her. It wasn't like she was already dead in the ground, buried and gone. She was still standing there, alive and breathing.
She turned away from him, saying. "You know I hate it whenever someone looks at me like that."
"I'm not even looking at you."
She sighed. "Course you're not. I hate it. I hate it when people look at me like that."
"I'll keep that in mind." He muttered
He wouldn't.
One or two drinks and he'd forget it. Being sober was probably the hardest thing he'd done in years and he was already struggling. It was like watching someone try their hardest to swim with weights tying them down, pulling under.
"If there's nothing, you'd like to say, I'll—"
"...Thank you." Haymitch vomited out his thanks and made a face. The cloying sweetness of the apple juice had hit its spot. He shut mouth and rolled his tongue around his mouth, trying his hardest to get the sweetness out. "The sponsors…thanks for that…I mean it. Thank you…"
Taken aback, Sera nodded. It was unexpected to get a thanks and she didn't even do it with the best of intentions. But at least, Katniss Everdeen would get to see her little sister again.
And Primrose Everdeen wouldn't have to sleep with guilt, knowing her sister had died in her place.
"It's fine, you didn't have to go out of your way to thank me."
Sera turned away and looked around the room, catching the eye of Zephyr who'd just arrived. He had grabbed a plate, slipping between the guests and filling up his plates with meat, bread and sauces. He even managed to grab a drink in the midst of the chaos. She gave him a questioning look. 'Time and place, Zeph.' He shrugged it off and slithered away to find a dark corner to enjoy his dinner.
When she turned back to her side, she'd expected Haymitch to finally make a break for the bar and leave her alone like usual. Except he hadn't moved an inch since their last conversation. He was watching his former tributes with a grim look but the minute he felt her gaze on him, he glared at her.
She didn't even do or say a thing to even warrant that. "Did…the President tell you to help me?" He asked carefully, looking around and inching closer.
"You're kidding right?" She didn't need to dress up her answer. She didn't want to. Haymitch was a smart victor. He wasn't that miserable that he'd traded his smarts for his misery. "You really think he'd let me help you…or your district in that matter? Why would you even think that in the first place?"
"Because you helped me."
"I didn't 'help' you." She corrected. But she did. "Let's get one thing straight before you get into your head that I did it because I was told—I did it cause I saw your awfully awkward attempts at being sober and trying to approach those…" She lowered her voice. "...pompous idiots for sponsorships. That back there was painful and I wanted to put myself out of misery just watching you try your best."
"I…had it handled, a few more words and I'd have them eating out of my palms."
"Or have them laugh in your faces."
"A little harsh and I didn't realize you were this…temperamental."
"I'm sorry, I'm just tired. I haven't even had the time to breathe the entire day."
He chuckled. "They've got you working like a dog." She looked up at him with a narrowed gaze. "I-I mean that with no offense."
"I'll pretend I didn't even hear that." Her eyes were heavy, she still had one more thing left to do then she'd have to drag herself to the station and take the night train back to Five. "...I didn't help you back then because someone told me to. It was awful seeing you struggle out there and besides I didn't really need that many sponsors."
He paused and raised his brow. "What do you mean by that?" He asked, suspicion lacing his tone. "You didn't need that many sponsors? You can pick and choose sponsors?"
"Most of us can…" She said slowly, backing away and Haymitch let out a quiet laugh. His eyes wide open, almost popping out his sockets in disbelief. "That doesn't matter. Is there anything else I can help you with?"
He laughed again. "You're…right." He spat out, his temper suddenly rising. "It doesn't matter. Doesn't matter that the…other districts can pick and choose their sponsors while…." He trailed off and balled up his fist, shoving it in his mouth, suppressing a scream that would rip through him. His face had turned a bright shade of red and green.
His erratic behavior made her check their surroundings again. None of the guests or even President Snow was focusing on them. When she turned back to Haymitch, he looked more miserable than she'd ever seen him. His little spark of happiness that he'd carried throughout the night had died the minute she told him about the sponsors.
He didn't know.
And she felt awful that she broke it to him like that. Out of all the districts, Twelve was one that she knew the least about. Not just what went on in the district but over all how they managed in the games. Everything she knew about Twelve was from official records only.
"Haymitch, if there's nothing else, I have to go—"
He didn't move. He stood there, breathing heavily trying to calm himself while muttering incoherently under his breath. A tray of cheese and meat skewers along with drinks appeared next to them and he paused his mutterings, focusing on the tray or better yet the avox.
Even Sera paused her thoughts and actions to observe it. She pretended to look at the tray and carelessly picked up a skewer of cheese and shrimp coated in a sticky green sauce. Haymitch did
An avox held up the tray, still as the marble deities on the walls guarding the halls of the Presidential Palace. Nothing ordinary.
Just another avox. She was fairly pretty like the others with jet black hair straightened and pinned up along with halfmoon brown eyes that appeared black when it stared up at Haymitch's silent shivering gaze. Like all the other avoxes in the room, she wore a muted orange uniform and no makeup.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
The only thing that really caught Sera's attention was that she looked slightly older than some of the avoxes. She was probably the same age as Leora and maybe Haymitch, maybe slightly younger than him. She wasn't really sure and she'd rather not dig too much into an avox.
Avoxes were warnings. They were meant to be ignored, treated like air.
Sera tugged Haymitch's sleeve, signaling that he'd been staring at the avox for longer than he should've been. He let out an awkward cough and turned away while the avox fluttered away to serve other guests.
"Are you sure you're not drunk?" Sera asked carefully. "You know you're not supposed to look at them." She discreetly gestured to the avoxes fluttering around with a tilt of her head.
Silence responded to her. Haymitch's face twisted into agony and then anger before he shook his head in response. "Maybe, I should start drinking again. This sobriety thing is hard." He said, mostly to himself with a sad laugh. "Those two aren't gonna be happy."
"Your tributes—I mean, your victors?" She guessed.
He let out a heavy breath. "That sounds…odd when you say it like that."
"Congratulations." She said with a bright feigned smile.
Haymitch wasn't feeling so jovial. He traded her smile for grimace and a shake of his head in disbelief. "Everyone's been saying that all day and night and I don't know if that's a good thing."
"It feels like that at first but you'll get used to it."
"Did you get used to it? You got lucky didn't you?" Haymitch asked. "Zephyr Nikolas, you stepped in as his mentor last minute and got him out—your first attempt at mentoring. Pretty successful for a beginner, right?"
"Zephyr did most of the work. He was…quick to pick up things and that's why he's here."
He laughed, bowing his head in disbelief and something else. "I've had tributes like him. Quick on the intake and on their feet, far more skilled than him and you. I don't know if you remember him but there was a tribute I had a couple years ago…Flint and he—"
"Of course I remember him." She accidentally cut him and shut her eyes. "I didn't think you remembered him."
He tugged at his collar uncomfortably and looked away. It was obvious that he, like her and everyone else, kept a record of the tributes lost. He just never said anything about it and honestly, she was surprised that he even remembered Flint or any one of his tributes from the past. She always thought he was so lost in his pain that he'd forget the world around him but she was wrong.
"Unfortunately, I remember them all." He mumbled, too quiet for her ears. "But Flint was just talented and far quicker than Zephyr and you. He could've made it out if it wasn't for your stupid partner. He was a good kid, good at tracking even in the heavy snow and he'd picked up some offensive skills as well—far quicker than any of my other tributes."
She shouldn't be there.
Though Haymitch hadn't said it or would ever say it. Sera again felt like she was standing in the place of someone who really deserved to be there and Flint was one of them. She didn't know him for long but she remembered him well.
For most of the games he'd managed to survive, they were separated in a snow storm. Still, he was good enough to find his way to one of the shelters her allies had made and he tried his best to help everyone, even when he was dying.
Flint would have stood where she stood, if only Twelve wasn't cursed and if only Eugene wasn't so desperate to prove himself.
"I'm sorry about Eugene but it's in the past." Yet it felt like yesterday when she was gathered around a makeshift fire with her allies as if they were on a silly little school trip trading stories with each other about their families and friends.
"You're right, it is but that's not why I mentioned him. I just…" He took another sip of his sickly sweet drink. "I'm just making a point that skill and talent hardly matters."
"I said it before—it's all luck."
He snorted and repeated. "Luck." Another swing of his drink, he rolled his tongue in his mouth to lessen the impact of the sweetness before sighing. "...I don't think I can do this."
"I know, I thought the same when Zephyr came out—I didn't know what to do."
"You only had to worry about one, I have two and I…I don't know what to do."
"Nothing." Sera answered. "There's nothing you can do but just be there."
"What does that even mean?" She offered him nothing and his confused gaze turned into daggers as his grip on his glass tightened.
For a brief second, she thought he'd lose it and throw the glass at her but instead he turned away. She caught Zephyr's face in the crowd again. He'd picked up an orange lily from one of the arrangements near him and was clearly twirling it between his fingers for her to see.
A second was all it took for her to understand his message and she turned back to Haymitch. She thought about leaving him there with a quick goodbye but she had another idea.
"If you want, I know a few people who give really good advice about things like this and they're awfully smart too, much smarter than any of us."
"Are you sure it's just Beetee?"
"Is he the only smart person you know?"
He shrugged. "I'll pass."
"There's gonna be some liquor there." She tried with a light grin.
"Like I said, I'll pass." He repeated more firmly. "I did more than I was supposed to and I've probably pissed off the President even more than usual so I'm gonna go and try to be on my best behavior."
"That's not gonna be fun."
"Don't think you'd know what fun is." Sera scoffed, offended but she said nothing. "And," He stopped her again for the last time that evening. "I know I'm asking a lot but maybe stop by and spare some time for—"
"Unfortunately, I have to catch the train back to Five early tomorrow so I'm gonna call it an early night." She interrupted him and ripped her arm off his grip.
Talking to Katniss was the last thing she'd do that night. President Snow was still out greeting guests and engrossed in a deep conversation with a few senators. Even though he seemed busy, she knew he was keeping an eye on Katniss and Peeta.
The two star-crossed lovers who despite being drowned in the waves of people held onto each other no matter what and she'd rather not get caught up in their tide.
Haymitch understood what exactly she meant and left it at that. She liked that about him. He knew when not to press on about some things and was quick to understand her words.
A shame that he'd wasted himself away to bury his pain and maybe she'd do the same if she'd lost Finnick and her entire family in one day.
"I thought you weren't going to show up." Beetee rose from the carpeted floor and held up a few wires in his hands. "You know with the whole…victory banquet and filling in for Crane."
Pulling her coat tighter around her, she closed the door behind her and stepped inside with Zephyr following her. There was a silent buzzing in the air around her in the room that was actually the abandoned office of the orphanage, once belonging to the former head. His scratched out portraits still hung on the wall, lopsided and dangling, threatening to fall off.
She'd half-expected the meeting to be held at the greenhouse behind the orphanage but she was wrong. Zephyr had led her away from the greenhouse and past the bedrooms of the sleeping children and up towards the abandoned wing of the orphanage where Beetee and Wiress had locked themselves into a room out of sight and reach of most people.
"I said my piece and greeted a few people and that was it." She replied, nodding her head to him and Wiress in silent greeting.
Wiress was also sitting on the floor, opposite him. She waved at Sera and Zephyr. "We're just setting thing up for—"
"Plutarch and…our other guest." Beetee finished and picked up the wires. "It's kind of a mess so watch where you go."
Zephyr left her side with a friendly pat and dropped down to the floor to help the two. He did a quick glance and pulled a chair for Sera, motioning her to sit down before rolling up his sleeve. "How far have you two gotten up to?"
"Not far enough." Beetee replied.
"We're trying to remember the layout…" Wiress trailed off.
"...of the circuit boards for long distance communications." Beetee finished. "Unfortunately, we had to dismantle it on transport from my…um..apartment."
"Lucky, I caught a glimpse of it so I should be able to…" Zephyr was quick in his motions, grabbing parts and wires, connecting them here and there before the quiet buzz stopped. "And there you have it—it's all set up."
Sera had no idea what Zephyr did and she could only look on in complete silence or open her mouth and sound like an idiot. She chose the latter and sat back, not moving an inch while the three on the floor did something with the large screen in the room.
She only moved a little when she felt Plutarch's presence behind her. "...For once, I'm not the one running late." She commented, throwing her head backwards to look at him.
"I had a talk with President Snow." He answered and pulled up a chair next to her. "It was about the games next year…"
"Already?" President Snow was trying to move on quickly like he wanted the 74th to end and 75th to begin quickly. A chance to bury this mishap and erase the star-crossed lovers of Twelve. "We really don't have much time, do we?"
"No, we don't." He answered. "Next year is the year we make our final preparations. You should slow down those auctions and fundraisers—say the orphanage has enough and…start preparing."
"Preparing for what exactly?"
Plutarch didn't answer her question, instead trading his answer for another question. "I heard you dealt with Crane."
"I didn't have a choice and we both know he was an idiot who'd outlived his use."
"But you still feel guilty over his death."
She choked up and turned away. "I don't think I'll ever get any of this—guilt. No matter who it is, I'm never getting over it."
"Even if…" He began and paused, taking in a deep breath. He spared her a quick glance that had some lost meaning before he carried on. "Even if you had no choice."
"I don't have a choice now."
"No, I mean…if you had to do it to…live like you know when you were in the…arena."
Blood rushed to her head. Snow covered the room, blowing the images of Wiress, Beetee, Zephyr and Plutarch away, replacing them with an endless field of snow with prints of blood painted on the frozen surface. Her head was spinning and she could hear echoes of screams in the distance alongside the screeches of spultures.
Her cold cracked lips quaked in pain as she struggled to breathe. Her legs felt numb and so did every part of her body. She could vaguely feel the end of a sharp dagger in her hand and the blade pressed down on someone's flesh.
The coppery scent of blood was nauseating mixed in with sweat and vomit. Her own vomit that she'd forced herself to swallow but she could still smell it. She wanted to turn away but Gaius' face, meer inches away from hers, stopped her.
She sucked in breath and shut her eyes from the horror around her.
The snow was gone when she opened her eyes.
Plutarch's worried face was all that she could see when she opened her eyes. He opened and closed his mouth, searching for the words to say but he had none. Zephyr had paused his work to look up at her in concern.
"Sera…" Zephyr called out.
She ignored him, focusing on Plutarch. Her crackled voice mustered all the fury in her and asked. "What did you just say?"
"It's an idea…" He answered slowly as if he was talking to a child.
"An idea?" Zephyr repeated for her. "An idea of what?"
"An idea for next year."
"W-what are you talking about next year?" She asked, rising from her seat. "Do you mean the Quarter Quell? The 75th Games."
"That's the…one." Plutarch was trying hard to keep her calm but he was failing. "Seraphine, I need you and everyone to be prepared for anything next year—"
"What does that even mean? Prepared for anything?!"
"It means that I—"
Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech.
The abrupt screech erupted from the screen, rudely cutting Plutarch off. Zephyr and Wiress hurried to turn it off as the screen flickered to life. Plutarch, his words left hanging in the air, turned his attention toward the intrusive noise with a furrowed brow.
On the other side of the screen was an older woman, her features marred with time. Her face was framed by an unnatural bone-straight graying hair that seemed too healthy for her age with no signs of damage.
"President Alma Coin." Plutarch greeted solemnly. "Apologies for the delay."
She scoffed. Her cloudy gray eyes, reminiscent of half-melted snow mottled with dirt, fixated on Sera and Plutarch with a stern intensity. "Save your apologies for another day and start the meeting."
Plant Dictionary:
Gladiolus - Flower of gladiators, strength, victory and pride
Purple Hyacinth - Please forgive me and Sorrow
Yellow Lily - Falsehood, Celebration and Excitement
Primrose - Youth, Kindness and New Love
Orange Mock - Deceit
White Anemone - Sincerity and Bad Luck
Begonia - Caution and Consideration
Tamarack (Larch) - Audacity and Boldness
Baby's Breath - Innocence
Red Catchfly - Youthful Love
Orange Lily - Wealth
