Author's note: Slight TRIGGER WARNING for this chapter. Nothing explicit though.
SOTR SPOILER ALERT!
Did you guys read the new Sunrise on the reaping chapter 1 excerpt? Excited and/or freaked out? What did you think of the new details and the new canon names?
We won't get a Leonore Donner for Maysilee's sister but at least we got Lenore Dove for Haymitch's girl, so that's close enough. ;) You might notice there's a tiny none-spoiling easter egg from SOTR in this chapter. See if you find it.
END OF SOTR SPOILER!
I also wanted to remind you of the edit I did like a year ago: Haymitch only slept with two people in his life in this fic. His girl and Effie Trinket. So, no drunken Capitol hookups with strangers during the Games for our beloved mentor. This builds on what Haymitch told Katniss during Finnick's propo in Mockingjay, about F being sold while H wasn't.
I will be reading SOTR with my heart in my throat for yet another reason, because what if Haymitch lied about it? There's a very real possibility that he did, but hell it never even crossed my mind before (kudos to effieotto for bringing that headcanon into light on Tumblr recently) but still, this 2012-born and 2015-published story will follow what Haymitch said in the trilogy. It's too much to go back and change it now, again.
Chapter 54, All we used to be
"Have you slept with a lot of men?"
The honesty behind the question was so Haymitch. Effie had to admit she appreciated his direct ways. His ability to ask something deeply personal without any trace of judgement. Direct, yet compassionate. A rare gift in a world filled with sharp tongues and no mercy.
Seated comfortably against the pillow fort she'd made of the bed, Effie reached for her cup of milk. Warm milk with spices.
Save for the woolen blanket and the soft, knitted socks – all "borrowed" from Haymitch's guestroom – she was stark naked.
Fingers curled around the handle of the mug as she contemplated her answer.
"Yes … and no." She warmed her hand against the china. Sought comfort in its gentle heat since she didn't have Haymitch's body at her disposal. Only his voice over the phone. "I mean, by district standards, I guess so. But if you ask someone like Plutarch or Flavius or Fulvia Cardew, they'll tell you I'm a complete bore."
"Ever been with a woman?"
"Um … once or twice."
"You and Annabel?"
"No", laughed Effie. "Although it was her stories that made me want to try. A lot of people in the Capitol are bi. Or pan. Cressida for instance. But Annabel, she's been into women exclusively, from the get-go. I don't think I've ever met anyone who loves lady parts as much as she does. She's always been very vocal about it too, so naturally I was curious. And it was nice. No question about it. Women are gorgeous. I don't fancy myself 100 % straight, but I'm afraid I do love men too much, for some reason. And those earth-rattling orgasms Annabel spoke about, I only ever experienced them with you."
"Oh, you poor girl", Haymitch yawned. "If I'm the best you've ever had, I feel sorry for ya. I really do."
They were several days into April now. The air crisp with the freshness of spring. At daybreak – in just a few short hours – a delicate blush of pink and lavender would spread across the Capitol skyline, chased by the golden warmth of the sun.
The lingering touch of winter was still present, but it was like the breeze grew more playful than harsh this time of year. Snowmelt from the mountains fed the rivers and streams and there were budding leaves everywhere.
Yes, Effie loved springtime! Always had. She only wished Haymitch had been here to share it all.
Or better yet, that she and the twins could visit him.
A proper stay in District 12. For Amy and Ian's birthday at the very latest.
Their second.
She would have liked to go as early as May. For Katniss. Effie positively itched to plan the girl something special for her big big big day.
But she wasn't so clueless that she didn't realize it would be a thankless job. Pearls before swine, honestly. Katniss would just run for the hills, well the woods. Her and Buttercup. They'd hide out there for all of May 8.
And Haymitch said Katniss and Peeta were thinking about going to District 4 anyway. They hadn't seen Mrs. Everdeen in ages. Nor Annie, Johanna and Finn.
But even without a party, Effie had bought her a gift at least. One Katniss might actually value.
Seeds. For her and Peeta's vegetable garden. Several neat packets, ready to use. Carrot seeds. Seeds for tomatoes. Peas, radish, lettuce. Boxes of spices too, for cooking. Cans of condensed milk and some fine, organic ground cocoa. So that the girl may brew a pot of the hot chocolate she loved so much.
All district brands. Nothing that said Capitol. She didn't want to upset the girl on her own birthday.
Effie had herself a final sip of milk and settled the cup on the nightstand.
"Why is that such an odd concept?" she said, in answer to Haymitch's earlier statement. "You being a great lover?"
"Cause I didn't know shit before you", Haymitch said. "You had to teach me everything."
"That's how I know, silly", Effie said. "You were willing to do the work. And I didn't teach you everything, mind you. Only roughly 80 % of it. Sex isn't some innate gift. It takes practice. At least you admitted you were clueless. Most men won't. At least not the ones I've met. And the more conventionally attractive, the worse they are in bed for some reason. It's like they don't have to try as hard. I don't know how many times I've had to polish myself off in the shower after cutting a guy short because he was so bad at it."
"Picky."
"100 %. If a man can't be bothered to find my clit, even when offered a map and compass, I'd rather just get up and make myself a sandwich instead. Much more satisfying. And just so we're clear", she added, "you were never bad. 'Room for improvement' does not equal 'awful'. Even when you were so butterfingered it was positively endearing, I loved the things you did to me. And our bed lessons remain some of the best conversations I've ever had in my life. 'For REAL?'" She mimicked his voice, chuckling. "That's my all time favorite. When I told you the clitoris is twice as sensitive as the head of the penis."
"Oh, yeah, I remember that."
"You even got me off without your fingers for aid, our first time. That really floored me. Because up until then, I just barely knew I could come from a guy's thrusting alone. Then again", she couldn't help but tease, "pining for each other, year after year after year, certainly work as a brilliant form of foreplay. All that pent-up sexual energy. And I love that, ever since we became lovers, it's become a dare of sorts. You wanting to outdo yourself, every time."
"Mm, you certainly made sure I didn't excel with any of your fellow neighbors."
"Come again?"
"Well, did you or did you not cockblock me all throughout the Games?"
The words curled Effie's lips.
"That I did. And would again. No need to thank me or anything."
"No, of course not. Who wouldn't wanna die a fucking nun?"
"You're no nun!" Effie laughed. "What do you call this? A prayer circle? And let's be honest here. We both know you didn't really want to sleep with any of those women. Right?"
"How would I know?" Haymitch said. "I hardly remember 'em, do I?"
"That's exactly my point", Effie retorted. "If you're so blind drunk you get blackouts, you have no business getting naked with someone in the first place. As I've already told you. A hundred times."
"I really didn't get any tail back then? Not even once?"
"Correct."
"How the fuck did you pull that off?"
"Language."
"I'm like twice your size, Eff. Why didn't I just … throw you over one shoulder, lock you away in a closet?"
"I'd like to see you try, mister."
"You called the peacekeepers on her? On me?"
"No. Well, yes. Sometimes. But I knew a better way. A more effective course of action to get you back to the penthouse safely."
"Alright. Enlighten me then. How'd you do it?"
"Easy", Effie beamed. "Piece of cake. Whenever you were drunk and confused and some lady drooled over you, getting you drinks and refused to take no for an answer – my no, that was – I just pulled you aside and said, 'Alright, Haymitch. If you need it that badly, I will sleep with you'."
"Really?"
"And boy did it light a fire under your butt! I had to hold you by the scruff of the neck, waiting for the elevator, or else you would've scrambled those twelve stairs on all fours. My poor sweet. So excited. Every time. You pulled me by the hand, into your room. There you started squeezing me and cover my neck with sloppy swamp kisses, only to stop short when you realized I didn't reciprocate. 'You don't wanna get it on, Eff!' you whined. 'I never said I did', I replied. 'But I am an escort so …'"
"… 'so I guess I must accept this as part of my job description'", Haymitch filled in, remembering. "Damn! How many times did you pull that trick on me, Trinket?"
"Oh, too many to count. Because it worked like a charm. Bulletproof! I knew you could never sleep with someone who didn't want to sleep with you. No matter how drunk you were. And I also knew that in your current state, you'd never find your way back there again. Not without my help. You were so sulky about your ruined one-nighter anyway, you just collapsed on the bed and passed out and I made sure you didn't sleep with your shoes on."
"Well played, sir. Well played."
"Thank you", Effie grinned with an elegant bow. But she quickly sobered. "I just didn't want you to get hurt. The thought that someone might take advantage of you while you were passed out drunk – I couldn't bear it. Had you asked me come morning: 'Remember that woman last night? What's her name? Can you get me her number?' then it would have been another situation entirely. But you never did."
"Course not." Haymitch drew a deep sigh. "Alright. Fine. You win, sweetheart. You're the only piece of Capitol ass I've ever really wanted to put my hands on."
"Oh, God", Effie grimaced but giggled. "That's so cute and gross at the same time."
She gave a light stretch. Glanced at the alarm clock. Goodness, it was so late. Or early. She would fall asleep at the breakfast table.
"Did we …", Effie said but trailed off.
"What?"
"Well … if you don't mind me asking … was I your first? I wasn't, was I?"
"No."
"Then what did you see in me? Why was I so special?" Feeling the conversation treading onto dangerous ground – lots of emotional mines hidden in the soil - she answered herself quickly. "Well, I am exceptionally attractive. Classy too."
"Don't do that", Haymitch said. Serious now. "That's not the reason and you know it."
"I don't know it."
Silence. Five seconds. Ten.
"It's because …" He paused again. And just when she thought he wasn't going to answer, he said, "Because when I'm with ya, and all my other bullshit calms down, you make me feel like 'life' … maybe isn't just a sentence I have to serve."
"Oh, Haymitch …"
"Yeah … and you're super fine. Especially without your clothes on."
Effie laughed.
"Preaching to the choir, handsome."
She tugged the blanket tighter around herself. Snuggled in.
"Can you play something? Something lovely, just for me?"
"No", Haymitch groaned.
"Why not?" she said, unable to hide her disappointment.
"You conk out whenever I play."
"No, I don't! Not all the time. And tonight, I am extraordinarily rested."
"You say that, then two minutes in you're snoring your little head off."
"No, no, no. Not if I really really try. I'll enjoy it, sitting upright in a chair. You can't fall asleep, sitting upright in a chair. Please, Haymitch. Pretty please, with strawberries on top? I bore you two children. What's one teeny tiny little song?"
"Oh God", Haymitch groaned. "How long are you gonna milk that?"
But he indulged her. He always did.
"Fuck the floor's cold." The old boards creaked on his way to the nursery – where the grand piano lived. "The things I endure for ya."
"What happened to the socks I bought you?" Effie asked. "What does it matter if they're pink? I won't tell anyone."
"Pink's fine. They're itchy."
"No, they're not."
"Oh, OK." She could practically hear him roll his eyes.
"Alright, alright. I'll talk with Hazelle. See if I can order some of the ones she make."
Wrapped in her blanket, Effie got out of bed too. As promised. Her eyes lingered on the hard chair, by the table under the window, and then she sank into the welcoming embrace of the rocking chair instead, feet tucked in beneath her.
She adored this piece of furniture. Had had it for as long as she could remember because, miraculously, it survived the war.
When she was little, it was her pirate ship in full storm.
As she grew older, she used it for reading. Glamorous fashion by-monthlies, several publications about architecture and her beloved Capitol Girl Magazine.
And later, when she had children of her own – Alex, Amy, Ian – it was the perfect place for nursing. Because if there was one thing her three babies had had in common, it was that they loved the gentle rocking of the chair, when settled to her breast.
While she was still pregnant it was a good place for resting too. Her back. Her swollen ankles.
And then there was Haymitch. All the memories connected to him.
One day, while they were still going out, she made the bad decision of telling him all about her reading habits in that very chair.
"A spot of tea, a blanket, a fresh magazine that I'm the first to ever leaf through. It's become a holy ritual of sorts."
Big mistake. You didn't share such tidbits with Haymitch Abernathy. He never let you live it down.
Because the next day, when she tried to do just that – rocking chair, blanket, tea, magazine – Haymitch stalked in and out of the room at least ten times. Dressed in nothing but a pair of underpants she bought him, with lemon wedges stamped across his butt, and some pretend excuse on his lips.
"Sorry, looking for my razor."
"Sorry, I reckon this bedspread looks nicer than the old one, yeah?"
"Sorry, my hands are a little dry, I just came for my bottle of lotion."
"You don't own a bottle of lotion!" she finally said, fed up. "Get dressed, it's almost noon!"
"Why? You fuckin' love this, can't get enough of it." He gestured toward his hairy chest, pouchy belly and even hairier legs. Head tilted, he eyed the magazine. "Ooh, is that Capitol Cowturd?"
"Couture!" Effie exclaimed. "Capitol Couture, not … hey, get off! You're squashing me!"
But she spoke to deaf ears. Haymitch had flopped down on her lap and now made himself comfortable. With one arm around her shoulders, he flipped through the pages with his free hand.
"This magazine's so relevant", he said in awe. "Thank God you have a three-year subscription."
"Don't make fun", Effie said and gave his shoulder a playful slap. She squirmed under his weight. Groaned. "Goodness. Have you been in the cookie jar again? I can't feel my legs. You will turn them all black and blue. Can you get off me, please?"
"Nope. I like it here."
"I didn't even get a kiss", she pouted. "I always kiss you when I'm on your lap."
Haymitch grinned and immediately let go of the magazine. Cupped her cheek instead.
But their lips had barely grazed for a second kiss, before his hand darted to her waist and tickled her in the side.
"Stop!" Effie squeaked. A sound that immediately deteriorated into a mad giggle. Haymitch's fingers flew over her ribs, to all her sensitive spots and Effie smacked his hand away, laughing. "Manners!" The magazine dropped to the floor and she pulled him to his feet, toward the bed. "I'll show you how to treat a lady properly!"
Haymitch grinned.
"Yeah, you will!"
"OK." His voice fluttered to her from over the phone. The stool groaned as he settled in front of the piano. Flexed his fingers until the joints popped. "Whatcha wanna hear, sweetheart?"
"Oh, everything you play is delightful", Effie said. "You pick. Maybe something fitting tonight's mood?"
"Alright." A moment's pause. Effie could just picture him, in the twins' glade of a nursery, fingers poised over the ivories.
She nestled deeper into the comforting embrace of the chair. It creaked softly with every sway and she closed her eyes.
To enjoy Haymitch's music to the fullest. Not because she was sleepy.
And Haymitch played. Just for her. By your side. She recognized the song from the radio. Tender and slow, like the opening of a love letter.
The screen of her phone glowed faintly as the melody unfolded. Swelled. Filled the bedroom, and her heart.
Music that told her of what still lay unspoken, in the spaces between their words. Each note a whisper of reassurance. A promise that they were never truly apart.
The rocking chair swayed with a soothing rhythm. A cradle of comfort. Drowsiness settled over Effie as her breathing grew slow and steady.
Before long, she let out a contented sigh. Surrendered to the gentle pull of sleep – where dreams were peaceful and free of fear.
The wick of the last candle, now a mere stub, struggled to keep the flame alive. It panted with a quiet determination, but the shadows crept closer.
And then, with one final, faint flicker the flame surrendered. A wisp of smoke curled gracefully toward the ceiling, before it vanished as well.
Author's note: Oh, those poor sweethearts, living in a soap bubble of happiness.
By your side is a real song. Performed by Sade. Haymitch's love serenade is a slower, longer rendition of a piano version I heard on YouTube. "Sade – By Your Side, Piano Cover" by YifanMusic.
The lyrics are absolutely lovely, and very fitting I think, for both Haymitch and Effie's heart of hearts.