The Capitol's Tribute

A loud, annoying banging woke me up the next morning. It was Effie, again.

“Up, up, up! It’s going to be a big, big, big day!” She chirped.

Every day seemed to be a big, big, big day to Effie Trinket.

I groaned, rolling over, noticing that someone had turned off the forest sometime during the night. Or maybe it was programmed to shut off at some point. I chucked back the covers, rubbing my tired eyes when I noticed something white on the floor.

Someone had slipped a piece of paper under my door. I hopped off the bed and made my way to the paper. I picked it up, unfolding it quickly, not recognizing the messy handwriting.

Meet me in S3 after breakfast. Cinna is giving it to us the hour before you report to the Training Center. Bring your thinking cap, sweetheart. – H

Haymitch. I crumpled the paper up and chucked it into a waste basket by my bed. My hands clamped down on the golden door handle and tugged it down, releasing me from my room. Luckily, Peeta’s door was still closed. I quickly sped by in case he opened it up and wanted to have another chat.

I followed the path to Katniss’ room and made my way back to the kitchen from there. The air smelled of sizzling ham and eggs. The table was decked with all kind of delicious breakfast foods. I took a seat next to Brant and dug in, picking up a berry muffin and pouring some coffee.

“Morning.” Brant yawned, smiling brightly. “Have a good slumber?”

“Uh huh,” I said, chomping down on my muffin. “I feel so relaxed; I could just take on twenty tributes right now.”

Brant snorted, sipping on his juice. Effie, who had been sitting at the end of the table, stood up impatiently. “They always ignore me when I tell them to get up. At least you two have manners.” She sighed; click clacking away in her high heels.

Brant and I ate in silence, relishing in the little time we had alone. I picked at my muffin as Brant slurped on some eggs. I wanted to talk to him about what he thought about our training sessions today but couldn’t find the words to say it. It wasn’t like it was a complicated conversation, but it made this thing seem all the more deadly and dangerous. Dressing up nice for the Capitol was fun, but now came the important part: how the hell we were supposed to survive in the arena on our own.

Katniss wandered in ten minutes later with Effie but Peeta was still missing. I was glad for it. He would probably start up some dumb conversation, hating the silence. I didn’t feel like talking. I had to save my energy for my meeting with Haymitch and the training sessions today. But, mostly dealing with Haymitch. I still had to have a word with him about his plan about Finnick and I. He had no right to press that upon me without my consent. This was about me and Brant, not Finnick.

I stood up after I finished my muffin and excused myself. “I’ll see you at training.”

“Where are you going?” Brant asked, worried. I smiled at my brother; he worried about me too much.

“She’s got a meeting with Haymitch.” Katniss spoke up.

I nodded, “What she said.”

Brant peered up at me, desperate for me to either stay or let him come with me. But, he couldn’t come and I couldn’t stay. I was going to find a strategy to keep Brant alive and I didn’t think bringing Brant along to argue with me every step of the way would be very productive.

“I’ll see you in an hour, bro.” I promised, trying to ease his distress. “We’ll be reunited before you know it.”

Brant didn’t seem particularly helped by this.

“Don’t worry, Brant,” Katniss said trying to help, “We’ll keep you busy. We’ve got some strategies to work out.”

His eyes flickered and I could see determination. Brant must have been planning the same thing I was, but it wouldn’t work. Haymitch had already promised me that Brant would be the victor between us, if one of us even won.

“Are you going to cry if you leave?” I raised a suspicious brow.

Brant rolled his eyes as Katniss let out a short laugh. I smiled, appreciating the fact that I wasn’t leaving Brant truly alone. Katniss would give him something to keep his mind off of the coming Games.

“See you in an hour.” He dismissed me, waving me off playfully.

I rushed to my room but Peeta’s door was still closed. When I finished changing it was open, but the apartment was deserted. I hurried to the elevator and pressed S3.

After another stressful elevator ride, I was waiting in my prep room for ten minutes before Haymitch stumbled in. I was already peeved at my mentor and he wasn’t helping his case.

“You just wasted ten minutes of our precious mentoring time.” I told him. Haymitch rolled his eyes, pulling out a small flask of what I assumed was a spirit.

“In a rush to die, sweetheart?” He asked, plopping down on the plush red waiting chair next to me.

“The sooner I die, the sooner you get rid of me.” I said optimistically. “I like to think on the bright side of things.”

“Shall we get down to business, then?” He questioned, ignoring my comment. I nodded in response.

“How did you piss off Malum so fast?” Haymitch snorted.

My eyes widened, “Who’s Malum?”

“The monster from One.” He answered.

“Oh,” I said, “You noticed him, too?”

Haymitch shook his head in disbelief. “That boy has been watching you since we entered the Training Center.”

“He’s going to kill me.” I told him. It was true, not like saying it playfully when someone was mad at you. Malum was really going to kill me, murder me in cold blood.

“Probably.” Haymitch agreed, “And Brant. So, what are we going to do about it?”

“You’re the mentor. You tell me.”

“Well, sweetheart,” Haymitch took another sip of his spirit. “What can you do?”

I thought about it for a moment. What was I good at that would be of any use to me in the Games?

“I’m good at running away.”

Haymitch chortled, shaking his head. “I bet you are. You fast?”

“I think so.” I told him.

He pursed his lips, “I guess we can work with that. What can Brant do?”

“A lot more than run.” I laughed humorlessly, “He can run, hunt, fight. He’s strong and fearless. He can—”

“You trying to make me fall in love with him or tell me what will help him live?” Haymitch interrupted.

“I’m telling you Brant can survive.” I gritted my teeth.

“He’s a fighter.” Haymitch agreed. “But you’re a victor.”

I wanted to punch Haymitch. Square in the jaw, just one time.

But, he was my mentor, and Capitol citizens didn’t act so rashly or improper. I could hear Effie’s disgruntled voice cry, “Manners!”

This new outrage at Haymitch reminded me of my old one.

“So, what’s Finnick’s agenda?” I asked, propping my legs up on the glass table like Haymitch had.

“Agenda?” He asked innocently.

“Yeah, I mean, why can’t he suddenly be trusted when his only agenda appears to be the one you gave him?” I tilted my head, staring pointedly at my mentor.

Haymitch narrowed his eyes, his dry lips curling upwards, “Have you agreed to do it?”

“What if I don’t?” I said childishly.

“Then, I don’t help you.” I sat up a little straighter, rather alert.

“But, you promised!” I gasped, “You said if I forgave Peeta you would help me.”

Haymitch shrugged, “You didn’t forgive him enough. So, I made up this little detail to make us even.”

I glared hatefully at him. He was a despicable, sad man. “Fine. What the sob story? Finnick and I had finally confessed our undying love for each other when I was tragically Reaped into the Hunger Games and now must fight my own brother in the hopes of making it back to the Capitol’s favorite heartbreaker?” I seethed.

He snorted, “Right on the nose, sweetheart.”

“How incredibly cliché.” I mumbled.

“The Capitol isn’t known for their original thoughts and intelligent minds. They’ll eat it up and it will give you the advantage you and Brant need to survive.” Haymitch told me complacently.

I knew Haymitch was right, I just wasn’t going to voice that aloud.

“So, at the interviews,” Haymitch went on, “Caesar will ask you about the rumors of you and Finnick being seen together in compromising positions. You will call Finnick up to the stage; finally spill your secret love. Cue the tears and passionate kiss and you’ll be done.”

I nodded stoically. “Sounds fantastic.”

“You can act, cant you, sweetheart?” Haymitch asked smartly.

“I act like I care to hang around you, don’t I?”

Haymitch sighed deeply, “Maybe we should set up a quick acting session with Effie.”

I crossed my arms tightly across my chest, not in the mood for his jokes. “What’s the rest of the plan? You know—the part where I’m on my own in the arena and need a strategy to survive that doesn’t involve dressing like a Capitol citizen or confessing my love for Finnick.”

“You can run?” He asked.

“Yes,” I nodded.

“Then, run.”

I glanced at Haymitch astonished. “Run? That’s your genius plan?”

He raised his eyebrows ever so slightly, “Got a better plan, sweetheart?”

I just stared at him, my mouth gaped open and my eyes wide. Had I sacrificed everything only to run? No, I promised Brant and Gale I wouldn’t run away anymore.

“I’m done running.” I told him fiercely. “I’m going to fight.”

Haymitch smirked, “Is that so, sweetheart?”

“Stop calling me sweetheart.” I growled, “And, yes, that’s my plan. If I’m going down, it won’t be without a fight so give me usable information to help me survive damnit!”

My mentor leaned back, pondering my outburst. I just held my icy stare, hoping to wear him down.

Haymitch cleared his throat, setting his empty glass down, “You ever hunted?”

“A few times.” I told him.

“Ever used a bow?”

“Yes,”

“Maybe you’re not as useless as you think you are.”

“I never said I was useless.” I said coldly, “Only incapable.”

He snorted again, “How about an axe or a knife?”

“Axe, no. Knife, yes.”

He puckered up his lips, “Ever chucked one at a moving target from fifty feet away?”

I laughed, “Yes, I had a lot of time to practice my knife throwing at the Capitol.”

“Well, Ridley can.” Haymitch informed me.

“Who’s Ridley?” I asked.

“Your best friend from One’s partner.” So, District One was lethal. That was obvious.

“Anyone else got amazing talents?” I sighed, propping an elbow against the arm rest and placing my worried face on my palm.

“Gusto can wield a sword better than Cato could. Don’t approach him when he’s got his prized weapon in his greedy grip.” He warned me. “Velvet, his tribute mate, seems ditzy and blonde, but she’s as blood crazed as the rest of them, I can assure you. Four’s pair are careers as well. Finnick’s informed me they’re great with spears and nets but if they can’t get their hands on them, they’ll go for any lethal weapon they can find. They’re all well trained.

“Holland from Five is whip smart. All of Five seems to be. But, she’s not a good fighter so you can easily take her.” I gulped, not wanting to think about ending someone’s life. But, if I wanted Brant to win, I was going to have to spill some blood. “Freddy Mason may seem tiny and insignificant, but seeing who is sister is, I’ll bet all the alcohol in the world he’s got something up his sleeve. Make sure he doesn’t get his hands on an axe, because—unlike you—he knows how to use one beautifully.”

Freddy Mason. Why did that name sound so familiar?

“Who’s his sister?” I questioned.

Haymitch peered at me skeptically, almost laughing at my stupidity. “Honestly, sweetheart, if you want to interrupt me with idiotic questions like that, then maybe we should be done for the day.”

“No!” I said hurriedly, “Continue!” I mentally cursed myself for stopping him when we were finally making headway.

Haymitch continued lazily, annoyed by my outburst, “Well, I’m almost done anyway. Bruno from Eleven is the only one outside the careers that appears to be of any threat. Hes strong and looks like he can think on his feet. Let the careers handle him.”

“And what will I do with the careers?” I asked.

“Wait ‘til they start to turn on each other, then you make your move.” He told me simply.

“And what’s my move?” I scooted closer, feeling a bit excited at the prospect of a real solid plan.

“You run.”

I groan in discontent, “I told you I’m not running anymore!”

“Fine,” Haymitch grunted, “But, at least run away from the cornucopia in the beginning, get out of the initial bloodbath. If you die that early, any hope of Brant surviving dies with you.”

“I can deal with that.” I agreed. “What do I do after that?”

“Survive until there’s only you and the careers left.”

“And Brant.” I reminded him.

“Yes, yes,” He said impatiently, “Brant, too. Find water and a food source. Learn about plants and berries during training. Get all the survival techniques, not so much the fighting techniques. You got a good memory?”

“Yes.” I repeated. “Remember everything they tell me about what is okay to touch and eat and what’s not. That’s how I survive?”

“Precisely, sweetheart.” Haymitch clapped his hands patronizingly.

“So, how do I learn to fight if I’m busy learning about berries and camouflage?”

“Brant learns to fight. You learn to survive.” Haymitch burped loudly, “You two stay together until the end. You keep food and water together; he kills anyone who tries to take you out. Nothing can go wrong.”

“Until we get attacked by the careers!” I cried, “I’m not going to be some helpless girl! I’m going to kill anyone who tries to kill us.”

Haymitch smirked, “Well, you better go learn how to pick up a fifty pound axe and wield it like you’re from Seven in the next three days or you’re going to have to rethink your no running policy.”

“I can do it.” I said firmly, “A little encouragement would be nice.”

“Do you want me to sugar coat this for you, sweetheart?” Haymitch mocked.

“You know I don’t.” I pursed my lips. “I just would like a little appreciation for all I’m doing.”

“Oh,” Haymitch stood up, “Would you like me to get Brant or Peeta and let them thank you for a job well done, for all your hard work in sacrificing yourself for your brother for a job they don’t want you to do and may not let you do?”

My jaw clenched, “Its going to work, so help me God.” I muttered through grinding teeth, “If I come out of that arena, all of you are going to be my next victims.”

“Ooh!” Haymitch laughed loudly. “How will three victors fend themselves against a ninety pound girl from the Capitol?”

“If I come out of that arena, you’ll be against a ninety pound victor who just lost her brother with nothing to stop her from getting revenge.” I told him calmly. Haymitch shook his head, making his way back to the elevator.

“Times up, sweetheart.” He smiled grimly, “Learn survival techniques, then learn to fight. Run from the cornucopia. Nothing in there is worth wasting you or your brother’s life. Run until you get self-righteous and then kill everyone who comes in your path. Got it?” He stood there, waiting my answer and presence.

I picked myself off the couch and padded my way to him, pressing the up button. “Got it, sweetheart.”