Work Text:
51st Annual Hunger Games
“Miss Trinket,” came a voice from nearby. It wasn’t loud and yet it had the kind of authority that couldn’t be ignored.
Effie turned in their direction to find herself faced with one of the most influential sponsors in the Games, Livia Cardew. She suppressed a gasp and put on her most charming smile. If she could convince the Cardews to sponsor Twelve then the others would be sure to follow.
“How can I help you, Mrs Cardew?” she said brightly, ready and willing to be of service in whatever way she could. After nearly two decades of being associated with Drusilla Sickle, Effie couldn’t help but feel like Twelve had a lot of ground to make up for.
“I wish to make inquiries about the new Victor’s availability,” Livia Cardew replied, her tone making it clear that Effie was very much below her.
Eager to please what was one of the most important sponsors out there, Effie assured her, “Haymitch is always available to discuss sponsor pledges.” She knew Haymitch probably wouldn’t be pleased about her making promises about his time without his say so, but she couldn’t rightly go and tell Mrs Cardew that their meeting schedule was subject to the whims of a seventeen year old boy.
Mrs Cardew sent her a dry look that made Effie feel as though she was about to be pet on the head like a beloved animal that was just a little bit dim. “Now Ms Trinket, you know very well that is not the availability I am talking about. I have no interest in your Tributes.”
There was something predatory in the way that Livia Cardew spoke - in her blunt refusal and what was implied by her lack of interest in their Tributes. Of course, her interest in Haymitch could always be … there were plenty of reasons why someone might want to speak with the latest Victor … it didn’t have to be …
“I … Haymitch - he’s not available,” Effie managed to stutter out after the silence hung a little too long.
Mrs Cardew’s face darkened to a scowl, making all the lines on her face look like deep crevices that showed every year of her age. The woman had to be at least fifty, if not older. “And why not?” the woman demanded with a harsh bite.
Effie jumped on the first thing that came to mind. “He has a girlfriend,” she said quickly.
“And?” the Cardew matriarch prompted. “That has never been a problem before.”
“Yes, well …” Effie began, desperately trying to keep her composure in check as she tried to come up with any excuse. “You see … I didn’t want to say anything, but Haymitch … I you see … he is … and I …”
“Oh I see,” Mrs Cardew said slowly, her eyebrows lifting knowingly and her lips turning into a salacious smirk. “You have gone and claimed the little urchin for yourself.
“Never mind,” she waved off. “I prefer to leave the used goods to others.”
Livia Cardew was gone before Effie could say anything more and for a few moments she just gaped in her wake. And then she was off as quickly as she could mange in her stiletto heals, heading directly for the bar where she had last seen Haymitch.
She was relieved when she spotted him in company of other Victors, though there were several sponsors nearby watching him with more interest than she felt comfortable with. “There you are, my love,” she called loudly as she approached, making sure her voice would carry to anyone watching. She slid under Haymitch’s free arm, manipulating his limbs so he had one hand on her hip and their legs were intertwined. “I have been looking everywhere for you, darling.”
Haymitch eyed her suspiciously but he was canny enough not to pull away. “Are you drunk?” he asked low enough that only the nearby Victors would hear. She swore she heard a couple of them chuckling at her expense.
“I am saving your ass,” she muttered back at him, gritting her teeth to keep the smile on her face. “So play along.”
She moved in close, raising a hand to the side of his face as she brought their lips close together without actually touching. She’d been in enough stage shows to know what would be convincing at a distance.
“If anyone asks, you and I are dating,” she whispered in his ear, looking to all the world like she had uttered something positively scandalous in her Victor’s ear.
It was a good thing that Haymitch had already decided to trust her at some point, otherwise this could have gone badly. For once Haymitch did exactly as he was told, sliding his arm around her more firmly and pressing a kiss against her cheek.
“You’re a clever one - I’ll give you that,” noted one of the Victors nearby - she glanced up to see Chaff from District Eleven watching them with an amused look.
“We have not been introduced,” she said, offering her hand. “Effie Trinket. District Twelve’s Escort.”
The Victor did not put down his drink but instead offered her the end of the limb where his hand had been removed six years earlier. Effie was good enough at social niceties that the displeasure did not show on her face.
“You’re gonna need to be better than that, girlie,” the Victor said with a grin. “These sharks can smell blood from miles away.
“How about a toast to the happy couple?” another Victor said from their other side, all of them seeming to be in on the scheme by now. “I suppose wedding bells will be in order soon enough.”
Haymitch blanched, but one discrete nudge of her elbow was enough for him to raise his glass in a toast and feign happiness at their future engagement.
For the rest of the night Effie made sure they stayed by the bar with the Victors close at hand despite her earlier insistence that they both needed to mingle. The encounter with the Cardew woman left her feeling very reluctant to let any sponsors near Haymitch.
Thankfully, Chaff and Brutus and Duke - the most recent Victors from Eleven, Two, and Six respectively - all felt the same way. The three large looking men sent dark looks at anyone that dared come close.
“Can I go now?” Haymitch asked pathetically after they’d been standing around the bar doing nothing for half an hour.
“Yes,” Effie almost insisted. She felt a heady rush of relief at the thought of getting him away from this place. “Please don’t stop to talk to anyone on the way. I will try to get some sponsors for the girl on my own.”
“Yes, dear,” Haymitch muttered sardonically before going on his way. She watched him as he made his way to the exit. Just to be safe.
“I’d tell you to be careful about showing your loyalties but I think it’s already too late for that,” she heard Chaff say from beside her.
“That boy’s gonna break your heart, you know,” Eleven’s Victor warned solemnly.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she frowned, though her eyes were still tracking Haymitch’s progress across the room.
“You will,” the Victor shrugged.