Strategy Management

When Haymitch entered the dining car the next morning, the others had already gathered at the table, silently having breakfast. A grateful smile adorned Effie's lips as his heavy footsteps prompted her to look up from her plate. Nothing stirred in his gloomy demeanor, but that seemed to bother Effie little. She probably thought that after their conversation last night, they were friends now. The mere thought disgusted him.

"Have the lords and ladies finally decided to join us?" Petunia remarked sarcastically.

Haymitch ignored her and slumped into the chair next to Effie. Ramon shot him a cold glance. Elowen was absorbed in her hot chocolate. Such a drink she had probably never seen before. At home, they only had water or tea. If she had grown up as poor as Haymitch had until his reaping, her family probably couldn't even afford coffee.

Instead of helping himself to the plentiful food, Haymitch pulled a silver flask from his jacket pocket and took a greedy sip, earning him a reproachful sidelong glance from Effie.

The two tributes seemed to realize that if someone didn't intervene soon, nothing would come from Haymitch. Almost simultaneously and without exchanging a single word, they began to stare at him. But neither of them seemed willing to break the cutting silence in the compartment. Elowen obviously didn't dare to say anything, and Ramon was ... harder to read. If Haymitch had to guess, he seemed to fare better without his mentor in his eyes.

Haymitch tried his best to ignore the children's gazes, but after a while, they began to annoy him. What exactly did they expect from him? After all, he couldn't work miracles. They were both going to die. If he were to say that out loud though, he would probably immediately sour his relationship with Effie, and Haymitch wasn't ready to go that far just yet. An almost silent voice in his head held him back.

It wasn't until Effie nudged him lightly from the side with her foot that he turned his head to her and theatrically raised his eyebrows. Effie gestured with her eyes towards the two tributes and nudged him again. So much for her supposed impeccable manners. A frustrated snort escaped his throat, causing the two tributes to flinch. Petunia watched him from behind her coffee cup. Almost strategically, as if she were calculating every possible move he could make. As if she didn't trust him with the mentor role. This woman was the epitome of double standards, never having lifted a finger for the tributes herself.

"Well then," Haymitch sighed and leaned back in his chair, mindful not to pay Petunia any further attention. "Where are the questions?"

Elowen looked at him questioningly. Ramon pressed his lips into a thin line. They both seemed a bit perplexed, as if they hadn't actually expected such a reaction.

"Come on," he snorted again and reached for the tongs for one of the many hams. "You're not seriously telling me you've been staring at me like sheep this whole time because I've got something on my face, are you? I'm not stupid. So if you've got something on your mind, you better spit it out now before I change my mind and you can come up with your strategy yourselves." His voice sounded harsher than intended, and from the side, he heard Effie sigh.

"What Haymitch means is that as your mentor, he is always ready to answer any questions you might have about the arena and the Games," the young woman interjected quickly, giving the tributes a reassuring smile. Her eyes flicked back to Haymitch, narrowing warningly. "Stop scaring them," she hissed between gritted teeth, ensuring the children couldn't hear her.

Before Haymitch could react, Petunia's disgusting laughter echoed through the room. "Well, good luck with your mentor. He has never been capable of anything, so why now?"

Haymitch shot her a venomous glare, nearly spilling orange juice on the burgundy tablecloth in the process. "Do we have a strategy?" Elowen asked in that moment, before Haymitch could hurl an insult back at Petunia.

"Not yet, dear," Effie explained with an apologetic expression, as if it were her fault. She must have taken that conversation with the girl yesterday to heart, Haymitch thought. What exactly had sparked this newfound determination in Effie to help her? No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't see the advantage. "Do not worry, because Haymitch is here for that exact reason. He will support you."

Haymitch wanted to tap his forehead at her. Support, sure! What things this woman deluded herself with. But the look Effie directed at him was so self-assured that he couldn't find his voice. So he played along with her little game, even though he knew he might as well stick his hand directly into the nearest fireplace. Because it wouldn't hurt any less in the end.

"To develop a strategy, we first need to know what you're capable of," said Haymitch, popping a forkful of ham into his mouth. The tributes remained silent, offering no response. It even seemed logical to him, what he was saying, as if he had played this game many years ago. And if his memory didn't fail him, he could almost claim he had. That's exactly why Effie would have to pay for this. She would pay for her public manipulations, right here in front of the children.

When both tributes continued to remain silent, Haymitch spoke up again. "So?" He emphasized it as bored as possible.

Elowen's green eyes glanced first at Ramon, and then even at Effie, before she lowered her head in defeat. "What's wrong, dear?" Effie asked in a hypocritically concerned tone, as she saw the tears welling up in the young girl's eyes. With all this pretense, Haymitch just wanted to vomit. At least Petunia had always been bluntly honest with him and the other tributes. She had never used this double-sided mask to manipulate anyone. She was simply a straightforwardly immoral person. Effie, however, compulsively tried to portray herself in a better, more moral light. Something that, in a certain way, made her even worse than the dragon. More dangerous.

"I can't do anything. I've never held a weapon in my hand. I'm not strong, and when I compare myself to the other tributes, I'm one of the smallest," she admitted with a choked voice. Her right hand on the table trembled slightly.

Effie's face melted into a mask of heartbreak, as if Elowen's statement had truly affected her. For a moment, Haymitch considered exposing her ridiculous acting, but ultimately refrained. Out of respect for the girl. It seemed she had built fragile trust in 12's escort, and he didn't want to destroy that. Everyone at the table knew how slim her chances were; surely she did too.

In the end, Effie composed herself again – or perhaps she realized that in her position, she couldn't just look sad, but also had to actively contribute to the success of the tributes. So, she finally forced a radiant smile onto her lips, which looked as real as her hair. "But that is not so bad, is it? Everyone has a special talent or skill that they excel at better than others."

It took every ounce of self-control for Haymitch not to snort loudly or roll his eyes. At that point, he might as well have publicly denounced Effie. He still wondered why she bothered and what she hoped to achieve. The girl was lost, he had seen it from the first moment. When potential victors stood before him, he knew it immediately. One could feel it in the aura that surrounded them. One could see it in their eyes. Yet you yourself only won with luck.

Elowen shook her head again, frustration and humiliation battling for dominance in her eyes. "What good are things like sewing or cooking in the arena? Ramon's big and strong, he has a huge advantage," she tried to explain to Effie, as if she were the mentor and not Haymitch. At the same time, she threw Ramon a friendly glance to let him know that her words were not meant negatively.

It was the first time Haymitch saw Effie Trinket speechless. He found it incredibly amusing to watch her dumb Capitol-brain try to process Elowen's words. Her cheerful demeanor froze for a moment before she regained composure, turned her head directly towards him, and met his gaze. That, however, he found rather less amusing.

Sighing, he leaned back in his chair. He had to bite his tongue to refrain from making a comment like Give up, you don't stand a chance, to avoid alienating not only the tributes but also Effie. Since when did he care what others thought of him anyway? Strangely enough, he didn't want to alienate the newcomer right from the start, after all, she had already done her job better in twenty-four hours than Petunia had in twenty years. Regardless of her motives.

"Just because you've never held a weapon doesn't mean you can't handle them," Haymitch spoke, earning a skeptical glance from the girl. She probably realized that he had only thrown that out there to make her feel better. Why didn't anyone notice when Effie made such comments? After all, she was the one who had been giving the tributes false hope all along.

"Fighting isn't everything," Haymitch tried again, not knowing why he was bothering in the first place. But after looking into Elowen's huge, green eyes, one thing became clear to him: It would be much harder to forget about the tributes this year. "The other tributes aren't the only threats in the arena. You're small, perhaps a disadvantage in hand-to-hand combat, which I wouldn't recommend anyway. But you'll have an easier time hiding from the others."

Elowen looked at him skeptically and seemed to ponder. Then she nodded slowly, and one could see that her fear subsided a little. But not entirely. Haymitch knew the fear she was experiencing right now. It would only end with the day of her death, or if she was really unlucky, never.

"See," Effie chimed in again, without even noticing the real conflict. Her smile seemed to stretch from ear to ear, and Haymitch immediately wondered if it didn't hurt to smile like that all day long. "No need to worry, we have everything under control."

"I used to harvest vegetables and plants at home," Elowen added after a while of silence. "I know how to handle a sickle."

That caught Haymitch's attention. He set the fork down at the edge of the plate and scrutinized the girl from head to toe. "That doesn't make a big difference because I would advise against fighting given your stature, but it's good to be prepared. However, I don't think sickles are part of the usual weapons arsenal. You would need sponsors to send them into the arena separately, and the sponsorship situation in Twelve is—"

"That means Haymitch and I will be making an extra effort with the sponsors this year," Effie interrupted at that moment, smiling reassuringly at the girl.

Haymitch's eyes narrowed into slits, and he focused his attention on her. Slowly, she was really getting on his nerves. Him and sponsors? That hadn't happened since ... he couldn't even remember. "Quite rude for a lady to interrupt someone else while they're speaking, isn't it?"

Effie turned to him, pressing her lips together in shock. Heavens, maybe it would be quite amusing with the new one after all, if such a comment already pushed her to the edge of social embarrassment. Haymitch could practically see her cheeks starting to flush under the makeup.

"I apologize, this was not my intention at all," she immediately blurted out, throwing him an apologetic glance.

It only took one sentence from him to send her entire upbringing into overdrive. That's exactly what Haymitch meant when he said he enjoyed watching Capitols crash against the walls of their own manners.

"Relax, sweetheart. You take everything I say too seriously," he laughed genuinely amused by how uncomfortable she was. Capitols and their behavioral norms ... Effie offered another apologetic smile, but he waved it off already. It hadn't really mattered to him.

Throughout the entire time that Haymitch and Effie were dealing with Elowen, Petunia had been watching them both almost sullenly. She seemed to dislike how Haymitch willingly involved himself in the tribute's strategy. He had never lifted a finger next to her.

Ramon ignored the scene as best he could. He didn't exchange a single word with them, and even Effie gave up after several failed attempts to engage the boy in conversation. Haymitch continued to regard his words from yesterday as an empty threat. Ramon might be tall and strong, but what could such a boy accomplish? At that age, it was usually all talk and no substance.

"So, if the Gamemakers place a sickle in the Cornucopia for me, then I take it, and then what?" Elowen asked, still pondering her chances of survival.

Before Effie could say anything misleading to the girl, Haymitch intervened again, realizing himself that he had exchanged more words with these kids today than in most of the past years combined. He had never paid much attention to his tributes. Only in the first Games after his victory it had been different. "Under no circumstances do you run straight to the Cornucopia, whether there's a sickle there or not. All the Careers will be there. It'll be a bloodbath. My advice, run away and find water."

"But that doesn't make any sense," Elowen responded, confused. She had withdrawn her hand from the table and placed it in her lap. Haymitch didn't need to see it to know that she was nervously fidgeting with them. "If they give me a sickle, why am I not allowed to take it?"

"Because that's exactly what they want," Haymitch replied promptly. "They want you to rush into the slaughter. The Hunger Games are a show. That means the more blood, the better the show, don't forget that." Effie barely snorted at his words. She's one of them too, a loud voice whispered in his head.

But Elowen immediately understood what he was trying to convey to her. It wasn't the first time that Haymitch had given this advice to his tributes. It was actually the only one he had ever given most. The Cornucopia was a temptation and, faced with the prospect of death, very difficult to resist. A fact that had cost District 12 most of its past tributes.

-

Sorry for not posting last week, I was traveling and forgot to mention it. Did you like the chapter? Let me know! :)