If the lunch was more pleasant than Lily had expected, the experience with the stylists was less so. Rather, it was the most pain she'd experienced in her life. It began with being immersed in a disgusting smelling liquid, but that was nothing compared to having every hair--save those on her head and eyebrows --plucked from her body.
Her mother used to pluck her eyebrows. She'd say it gave them a more even shape. But she'd forbidden Lily to begin until she was eighteen. Not that Lily had ever been tempted.
Certainly not now. Each pull felt like being burned. Tears filled her eyes, but she wouldn't cry out.
The stylists looked bizarre, too. They all had their hair, but none in natural colors. Pink, green, and white--but not the white associated with old age. One of them had surgical enhancements on her face. Maybe the others did, too, but Lily couldn't tell. Not without staring, and she was too polite to do that.
Finally, arms and legs throbbing, they massaged some less offensive smelling cream into them. It would have felt pleasant, except these people were complete strangers to her. Still, it soothed her arms and legs until the pain went away.
Then, another bath, although this smelled more or less normal, and they scrubbed at her hair. Lily squeezed her eyes shut tightly, but the soapy water didn't get anywhere near her eyes. When they combed her shoulder length hair afterwards, it didn't hurt.
They examined her naked body once more, probably checking for stray hairs, and then the white haired woman handed Lily a robe.
"You'll do, for now," she determined. "But you'll need every bit of help from Katsura to stand out. Don't worry," she added, seeing Lily's frown, "she's worked with far worse before. Remember Ivy?"
"Oh, yes!" The pink haired one gasped. "She didn't have any hair at all!"
"On her head, you mean," the white haired one corrected. "It was a bush everywhere else."
It was the sort of thing some of the stuck up girls would have said--although about fellow rich girls. The harvesters, as they were called, were beneath their notice.
Some things were universal, it seemed.
Still laughing, they left Lily alone, without even a goodbye. After they shut the door behind them, she stuck her tongue out. So what if it was childish? They couldn't see her.
She pulled the robe tight around her. As soft as it was, she wished she was wearing her dress. It had been light blue, her favorite color, and her mother had even embroidered lilies around the hem. Would they send it back to her family with her lifeless body? Lily hoped so. She knew she likely would never wear it again. Not during training, when everyone wore non-uniform shirts and pants, and not in the arena, where they all wore the same thing.
Her musings were interrupted by the arrival of a tall, pale woman. Her hair was blonde, long and past her waist. Her features were delicate, likely enhanced by makeup, but not surgery. Not noticeable, anyway.
"Hello," Lily said, softly, pulling the robe tighter.
The woman--Katsura--nodded. "Hello, Lily."
There was a silence as Katsura walked around Lily, studying her. "You're fourteen, aren't you?"
"Yes." She would have turned fifteen in December. But she wouldn't reach December, now.
"Hmm." Katsura gently removed Lily's hands. Thankfully, she didn't remove the tie of the robe. She did study Lily more than the girl was comfortable with. "We'll go for girlish, then, for your second outfit. There's not much room for creativity in the first. Not that it matters much, as it's essentially a parade. Besides," she went on, briskly, "District 11 isn't 12 or 7. Coal miners and trees...no, they will look positively dreadful. Now. Your interview outfit. Have you given it any thought?"
She sat down in one of the plush chairs, and gestured for Lily to do the same. Carefully, Lily obeyed.
"Not really. I--I'm still taking it all in," she admitted.
"Of course. No one expects it to be them. But it is you, Lily, and you must make the most of it," Katsura said, briskly. "Your interview outfit, and your interview, could well be what keeps you alive. But Seeder will help you there. I just deal with your clothes." She studied Lily against. "Your skin isn't as light as Seeder's, but it's not nearly as dark as Ash."
"My family's well off. We only rarely work during the harvest. My mother sews," Lily explained. "My name was only in the bowl three times."
Katsura studied her in a detached manner. "If your skin was darker, white would be an excellent contrast. No, it won't complement you. Not as a base. Do you have a color that favors you, Lily?"
"Light blue. Like the dress I wore. K-Katsura, if I don't make it back, could you see it's returned to my family? I have a younger sister..."
"Of course." For the first time, the woman's voice was soft.
The two were quiet for a moment. Then, Katsura went on to describe what Lily would wear for the opening ceremony, and dismissed her to return to the training center.
The training center was spectacular, she knew, but also meant to be seen as impressive. Enviable, perhaps. Seeder had explained that each district had its own floor, which felt excessive, because there were only two of them. Well, and two mentors who would live with them, and perhaps six or so stylists. And the Capitol escort who had done the drawing. It was hard not to hate her. Still, even if eleven were sharing that space...Lily knew her house was far larger than the majority of her district. She and her siblings each had their own rooms, and there were three bathrooms. But it was less than a shack compared to the space here.
Did everyone in the Capitol live like this, or were there divisions like there were in her district? Surely, no one felt hunger, but she doubted not everyone lived in mansions the size of the mayor's.
Seeder had pointed out their rooms, and, now, Lily gratefully exchanged her robe (after some trial and error, as there were various sizes) for appropriate undergarments, and a light green dress with a full skirt that reached her ankles. Then, it was time for dinner.
It was all delicious, of course, but Lily could not enjoy it. There was the fear it wouldn't sit well in her stomach, but there was also the chariot ride that would come afterwards. Katsura hadn't told her exactly what her outfit would entail. District 11 usually looked the same, though. Unitards, and the tributes holding branches decorated with fruit. They were to represent their district, not stand out. That would occur during the interview.
The costume was more or less what Lily expected, and it fit perfectly. Not that she would have expected otherwise. She was relieved that the fruit branches were attached to her shoulders and hands, sparing her the need to hold them up. They were very heavy.
The prep team, as she recalled they were officially called, came to her room to add makeup. Nothing ornate, at least. Makeup was something her mother wore on occasion, but declared that Lily and Rosie were far too young for it.
They brushed her hair roughly, then pulled it back into a bun at the nape of her neck.
Then, it was over, and Lily stared at herself in the full-length mirror. Her features stood out more, but she honestly couldn't tell if it was an improvement.
The prep team certainly thought so, as they praised her.
"Just wait until you're in your interview dress!" one gushed. "You'll be stunning!"
"Thank you," Lily managed.
Ash was waiting for her, wearing an identical outfit.
"You look nice," he told her.
"You too," she replied.
They had hardly spoken so far. Lily hadn't even known him, before. She suppose that he was one of those who harvested and worked whenever possible, to earn a small wage to feed his family. Or, maybe, it was just him. It wasn't unusual for kids to starve.
There wasn't time to think about it. Suddenly, they were being ushered forward, into their chariot, with warnings to smile and make a good impression!
Lily tried, or thought she did. But it was all a blur. The next thing she knew, she was back in the training center, being hugged by Seeder.
"You did well, honey," the Victor told her.
She hugged Ash, too, who returned it.
They drank tea while Seeder and Chaff discussed how the next few days would go.
"You'll receive training on the first floor. Districts 1, 2, and 4 focus on combat. You can do that, if you want. But there are other skills to learn. Identifying poisonous plants and the like. That's crucial. Neither of you want to run into the cornocopia. Not if you want to survive the first hour," Chaff cautioned, "so you need to rely on what's in the arena for food."
"And water," Seeder added. "You'll die of thirst before hunger."
Ash spoke first. "The careers can't take everything, can they? Not if they want to hunt down the rest of us."
Seeder swallowed her tea. "They'll usually leave someone behind to defend them. Unless you manage to team up with other tributes, your odds..."
She left the sentence unfinished.
They talked a little more, but Lily stayed silent. She stared down at her empty cup of tea, feeling the warmth in her hands.
"You've had a long couple of days," Seeder spoke up, in her calm manner that Lily appreciated, "so you ought to go to bed shortly. If you can't sleep, the floor is yours to wander, and you can take the stairs to the roof. It's lovely," she added, admiringly. "If you are hungry, you can order anything you like from a menu. It will appear in your room."
"Best to eat as much as you can fit in over the next several days," Chaff added, watching them. "The longer you're in the arena, the more weight you'll lose. They kept me for almost a week afterwards. I was skelatal," he laughed.
Chaff, Lily knew, had won the 45th games. Long before she was born. Seeder had won a couple of decades before then. She was in her 50's, and looked as healthy as some of the women who were in their 50's and 60's who hadn't suffered the trauma of the games. Because it had to be traumatic. Even if you managed to survive without directly killing anyone, or seeing the result, death was everywhere in the arena. People died in 11, shot even by Peacekeepers, but never hunted.
Lily had been working the harvest one day when she saw a handful of boys stop working to play a game of Tag. The Peacekeeper shot them without hesitation. Lily hadn't stopped picking the fruit when she heard the shots. Five of them, five boys. The parents, people whispered, had to ask permission to collect their bodies after the day's work ended.
"Foolish," were the whispers.
"Old enough to know better," others added.
You did not stop working. Certainly not to play.
Yes, Lily had trembled like crazy. She'd never been so grateful that her hours were short ones. When she'd returned home, her mother had made her tea to calm her nerves. Lily still had nightmares that night, and she hadn't even seen the bodies.
No, she wouldn't survive long.
Author's note: I am a firm adherent to canon, except when I write a fic where it's important to the storyline or character development to make it AU. (In my work where Katniss and Peeta watch Survivor, Prim is alive, for example.) So, the series of events set up in HG and CF were set up at some point, and I believe they were in place in HG 68.
With that in mind, take any veering from this as an indicator of Lily's mental state. It's not that she's crazy as much as in a daze, traumatized, and feeling trapped. She's not necessarily going to be aware of everything that's happening, and might blank out entirely at times.
Please take a moment to leave a few words of constructive feedback. Follows and favorites are great--words are far better.