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HG: The Narrow Path, Chapter Twenty - The Phantom Librarian
Spewing out too many words since November 2003
fernwithy
fernwithy
HG: The Narrow Path, Chapter Twenty
The Capitol has fallen, but Haymitch is beginning to wonder what it means. He is again shuttling among his wounded kids, and is with Peeta when Coin comes in, demands that he is brought up from his medically induced coma, and forces him to watch the execution of Caesar Flickerman. She promises that more Games workers will be punished in this way, district by district, and Haymitch realizes that it means Effie is in immediate danger. He goes to the Presidential Mansion to get Plutarch and tells him that there is no more time to mess around -- they have to get Effie out of prison now.


Chapter Twenty
To my unending gratitude, Plutarch simply signals up to a soldier that we're leaving, and takes me around to the back, where Snow's fleet of cars sits largely untouched. Plutarch has apparently been given one of them as a spoil of war. He presses a button on a keypad, and a low slung, shiny blue car drives itself over. We get in. We do not talk on the way to the prison. We both know why we need to go.

The guards at the prison are all from Thirteen. Peacekeepers who worked in maximum security -- at least the ones Coin didn't execute -- are now in the cells, and I'm not going to waste any worry on them. These are the ones who tortured Johanna, who broke Peeta. Let them rot. I'm not shedding any tears over the ones that were killed this morning, either. As we pass their cells, they curse us and threaten us when Snow regains power.

Effie is in the bottom level of the prison, the same row of cells where Peeta, Johanna, and Annie were kept. The guard keeps checking a readout on his handheld device, and finally comes to a door in the middle. He unlocks it.

I see everything in an instant: Effie Trinket, dressed in a ragged set of prison clothes, her face unpainted, her hair a nimbus of strawberry blond curls that fall, disheveled, around her ears. Her lips are dry and cracked, her eyes wide and unfocused.

I am across the cell in two steps, and I hold her as tightly as I can. She is limp and listless, but her arms come up around my neck. "Haymitch?"

I press my fingers against the back of her head, kiss her cheeks. "I'm here," I say.

She pulls away and blinks at me owlishly. "Your tie is crooked."

I pull her to me again and say, "Of course it is. You know I can't keep my tie straight for anything."

Plutarch clears his throat. I try to let go to bring him into the conversation. There are things more important than my crooked tie, or how Effie is here, really here. I can't let go of her. I whisper into her ear, "Effie, this is really important. Whatever Plutarch and I say over the next few days is the truth. You don't argue with it. Don't embellish it. Don't do anything other than agree with every word we say. Do you understand?" I finally pull away. She looks at me blankly, then nods. I take her hands. I notice that the knuckles on one of them are bloody. She is too skinny. She looks like she hasn't slept. I kiss her fingertips. "We're going now."

"Where?"

"Your apartment will be fine," Plutarch says. "I have a pass key to the whole city."

She looks around me, noticing Plutarch for the first time. "Mr. Heavensbee," she says, then her hands fly to her head. "Oh! My wig!"

She looks mortified. Her hair has grown out pretty -- a little messy, but pretty. Still, she doesn't like people to see it. I take off my jacket and tie it around her head like a scarf.

The guards want authorization to remove her from prison. Plutarch flashes a badge and says something officious. I don't know what. We go back to the car. I settle Effie in back. She won't let me put on the seatbelt. I let it be, and let go of her for the first time since I got into her cell. I sit in the front seat.

"Effie, you are a rebel," Plutarch says. "You have been a rebel for several years."

"I--"

"Don't argue," I say. "Please, Effie, just go along."

"But I--"

"You are a tribute right now," Plutarch says. "And Haymitch is your mentor, and I'm your escort, and we are going to get you through the arena, but we can only do it if you do what we say."

She looks at me, dazed. "Haymitch, what's happening?"

"The Capitol fell yesterday," I say. "And the new government is going after anyone involved in the Games."

She puts a hand over her mouth.

Plutarch and I start weaving a story. Anything that sounds feasible. I wish Peeta were here. Peeta would make it better. He'd make it unassailable. But Effie is stuck with Plutarch and me. I can say truthfully that she passed messages. She did give me a note from Cinna once, and it absolutely contained rebel information. She also brought him a cake from Dannel Mellark's bakery -- before Peeta was ever reaped -- that had coded information on the box.

"There was?" she asks. "I brought information for the rebellion?"

"You did. And you knew it, Effie. That's the important part. Do you remember that cake?"

She does. She describes it hesitantly, more concerned about the beautiful decoration than the message under it, on the lining paper.

We have to end the conversation when we get to her apartment. I am afraid that it will still be a mess, that she'll be upset. But when we get there, the door is open, and Tazzy and Solly Vole are there, sweeping the floor. Everything has been picked up and put in order. Solly is holding Sweetheart the cat, whose long white hair has gotten matted, but who otherwise looks no worse for wear. Effie takes Sweetheart and starts petting her. I thank the girls. Tazzy is a legitimate rebel with impeccable credentials, so I ask her if she remembers how Effie helped out with the war.

"Oh, sure," she says without a pause. "Effie was the one who got me into the rebellion. That night before everything went crazy. I'm pretty sure that's why the Capitol arrested her. They knew she'd told Aurelian and me how to find the rebel leaders in town. I mean, they knew I was looking for her. I told everyone and his brother that I needed to find Effie Trinket. I wanted to get to the Rebellion, and everyone knew she was connected."

"Thanks," I say.

"She let my sister play dress up," Tazzy says. "Solly had a really good time." For Tazzy, apparently, this is not a non-sequitur. She goes back to cleaning up, and makes a simple meal.

The girls stay for half an hour. Solly is crestfallen to give up Sweetheart, and Effie finally finds a smile, albeit a tentative one, and says, "Maybe Sweetie can stay with you a little longer, until I'm ready to take care of a cat again."

Solly gives Effie a big hug and a kiss and runs out, the cat safely in her arms. Tazzy follows. Plutarch fabricates one more story about how he remembers Effie specifically requesting Cinna and Portia as stylists, clearly a rebellious act, then he goes as well.

I go to her room and find her a wig, but she doesn't put it on. She doesn't go to change into her fancy clothes. She just leans against me, silent and dazed. "Please don't go," she says.

I don't.

I sleep on her bedroom floor that night, because I don't trust myself and she is not in any position to make rational decisions, but she won't let me out of her sight. I don't want to be out of her sight.

I wake up in the morning to find her dressed in one of her more demure outfits -- a green suit with gold buttons. The shoulders curl upward a little, but it's nothing outlandish. She's dug up one of her simpler wigs as well, a plain white one that puffs up a little bit then curls up around her ears. It is askew, and I can see a wisp of her hair coming out under the edge.

She is sitting at her dressing table, holding a mascara wand to her face. Every time she tries to put it to her eyelashes, her hand shakes. I can see several dark smears on her cheeks.

"You don't need to worry about your makeup," I tell her. "Almost no one in District Thirteen wears any."

"Are you telling me to go without? Or just saying I could?"

"I'm telling you to go without," I say. "It may not be necessary, but let's make it plausible that you've just been waiting to throw off the Capitol."

She nods. "And my wig?"

"Do you really need it, Effie?"

She blinks at the mirror. "When I was sixteen, I started wearing them. It was a whim. And people kept trying to snap pictures of me without my wig. It was... sort of a game, in school. It got intense. About six months after I started wearing it, three boys jumped me and ripped it off my head. My blouse got ripped, too. And they took pictures, and put them all over the place. I was bleeding from where they ripped my hair out -- the pins caught it. There were marks for long time. They went away finally, but..." She looks down. "I do need them, Haymitch. I just want to be myself again."

"I'm sorry, Effie." I get up and go sit across from her. I have no idea how the wigs are held on, so I don't try to straighten it, but I do tuck in the loose curl. "You wear them if it makes you feel safer." I take her in, ready for a day out. "Where are you planning on going?"

"Can't I go out?"

"Yeah, but... where?"

"I want to see Katniss and Peeta," she says. "And I should pay a call on poor, poor Annie. I saw on the news about Finnick this morning. And that Katniss is alive, but she's hurt. They say she might not regain consciousness." She looks at me, her odd eyes trying to focus. "Poor Haymitch. So many of your friends."

I nod and give her hand a squeeze. "That's why I'm not going to lose any of the ones I have left."

"Am I your friend, Haymitch?"

I try a joke. "Well, when you're not trying to bury me in rules and dress me up and put me on a damned schedule..."

She smiles faintly. "In other words, when I'm not actually around?"

I run my thumb over her fingertips. "They have a machine in District Thirteen that puts a schedule on your arm every day. Tells you when to be at lunch, and when to go to work. I named mine Effie."

This gets a better smile, then she looks at me slyly. "They wanted me to say something bad about Katniss on television when everyone was saying she and Peeta were dead. I told them I wouldn't. They said I had to. I thought to myself, 'What would Haymitch do?'" She holds up her hand with the bloody knuckles out. "I never punched anyone in the face before. I didn't know it would hurt."

"You punched someone?"

"One of Claudius Templesmith's production assistants. Will that help?"

I think about it, the amusement value of imagining Effie making an ineffectual little fist fading. "It'll help," I say. "But let's tone down that it was about Katniss. Make it about not saying anything bad about the rebellion."

"But -- "

"Effie, when Katniss wakes up, which she will, you can tell her the truth. But right now, it's about the rebellion."

"Haymitch, why -- "

"Because I want you to stay alive. They killed Caesar."

"This... is what you wanted? All along?"

"No. And it's going to get fixed. But right now, short term, we have to play by the rules."

"But -- "

"Effie, for seventeen years, you told me to make nice with people I hated to try and keep people alive as long as I could. It's not going to be seventeen years, and we're going to have better luck. But do it."

She looks at me steadily, almost focusing on me. "Promise it's going to be fixed, Haymitch."

"I promise."

I have no idea how I mean to keep this promise, but I do mean to keep it. Somewhere between Snow's bread and circuses and sadism and Coin's brutal crackdown, there is a narrow path to something that will actually work. I will find it. Somehow.

I take Effie to the hospital. Gale is up and about already. The shots he took were superficial, and he has received the best care the Capitol has to offer, the sort of things victors get to be prepared for the post-Games events only days after they're pulled from the arena. There are stories circulating that he was captured by Peacekeepers and unarmed, and managed to steal two weapons and kill most of his captors before taking a single wound. He dismisses this as ridiculous. The soldiers who are now under his command point out that he had, in fact, gotten out away from the Peacekeepers and was halfway to City Center when the bombs blew. They are in awe of him. I introduce him to Effie. He tries to be polite. He isn't good at it.

Johanna, who is nearby, is much better at it, since she has always thought of Effie as a funny little pet more than as an agent of the Capitol. She makes a fuss over Effie's dress. "I'm going to have to raid your closet," she says. "We're about the same size, and my whole wardrobe went up in flames in Seven."

This gets disapproving stares from workers.

Effie and I go to visit Katniss. Ruth is there, looking half dead, and Effie manages to not say anything insensitive, which may be a record. Annie comes. She says they are growing cells for new skin to go onto Katniss's back. There will be surgery later today, the first of several. Effie gives her condolences. Annie seems genuinely grateful.

We go down to Peeta's area. He has been allowed to come up naturally from his sleep. He's groggy, but not too groggy to recognize Effie. He smiles, then horror crosses his features. "Haymitch, she's -- "

"Effie's glad to be out of jail," I say quickly. "She wanted to see you and the rest of the rebels she's worked with as soon as she could."

He doesn't even blink. Even under the remains of sedation and the influence of whatever nightmares he's been having since yesterday, he says, "Oh, of course! Why didn't I know that? I should have realized it in District Eleven when you covered for Haymitch meeting with Chaff during the Victory Tour."

Shortly after we leave Peeta, there is a news broadcast on every screen in the city. Strato Calmenson, the District One escort, is tried and executed, along with the stylist and prep team. Tomorrow, we are assured, we will move on to District Two.

I start meeting with Command again that afternoon. I doubt Coin really wants my opinion on anything, but she seems to consider it a good idea to keep a close eye on me. She says she is investigating our claims that Effie is a rebel. Plutarch has apparently spent the night in his production booth, because he is able to present her with video evidence of Effie passing messages and even obtaining weapons. It looks very real. Coin is still skeptical.

Plutarch proposes a series of television shorts about "Heroes of the Capitol" -- Capitol rebels, like Effie or Tazzy or Fulvia or, in all modesty of course, himself -- for the sake of trying to bring the Capitol citizens on board without any counter-revolution, which, he has heard, is a going concern with all the executions.

Coin shake her head. "I can't do that. There are still angry people in the districts. They feel the Capitol has already been given too much leeway. Until they accept their complacent role in the atrocities of the Capitol Empire, I can't have you coddling them."

"We can't have a perpetual war, either," Beetee tries.

"It will hardly be 'perpetual.' Once we have achieved justice for the districts, of course it will end. We will move the leadership from the districts here."

"But what about the native population?" I ask.

She sighs. "Obviously, they will need to learn to accept the new shape of things. I am still seeing a good deal of wastefulness here, frivolous uses of district resources. I've arranged for an adult school to open, to teach the citizens of the Capitol about reality... a matter with which they appear to have little experience."

The Command staff is split fairly evenly -- Beetee and I, along with five others, want to start trying to calm things down in the Capitol. The other half, which unfortunately includes Coin, has prioritized punishment to serve the interests of the districts. I ask who is complaining, hoping that she's making it up, but she produces videos of rabid-sounding district leaders calling for blood.

When I get back to the hospital, Effie is sitting with Annie, Peeta, and Delly while Katniss undergoes surgery. Peeta is not allowed out of his area. Cressida arrives with a film crew to ask us about Katniss. We all give glowing reports. Delly seems to know Cressida from before, and they give each other a quick hug.

I go home with Effie. She lets me out of her sight enough to sleep on the couch.

The next day is the same. Katniss is in recovery. I sit with her during her morphling daze while doctors manipulate her body around the first grafts. Command meets and argues. Velatus Norman, the District Two escort, died defending a shop in the fashion district, so he can't be executed, but he is held guilty. The stylists and the prep teams die on Caesar's stage. Enobaria finally surfaces from wherever she's been hiding, but if she has any objections, she keeps them to herself. People flock to hear her speak, even though she doesn't say much.

I stay with Effie again. She is being forced through Coin's adult education program, and comes home at night weeping about crimes she had nothing to do with, even tangentially. She has been made to read the casualty list from the District Eight hospital aloud on television, and declare herself and the other citizens of the Capitol complicit in the crime. I hold her and try to get her to stop shaking. I don't end up sleeping on the couch.

The District Three escort and stylists have disappeared. Beetee claims to have no knowledge of this. The preps died in the fighting (one as a rebel, the other two for the Capitol), so there are no executions the next day. Katniss has another graft. Delly sits with her for a long time, trying to be cheerful.

For some reason, Katniss is not talking at all. People are starting to get concerned. They want her on camera soon. Coin has been getting a great deal of communication from the districts. They want to see Katniss, to hear her speak, to tell them that they've won. They want her to kill Snow, live. Coin picks up on my suggestion back in Thirteen and declares that the Mockingjay will fire the final shot of the war -- after the other colluders have been punished, Katniss will perform the execution. This means she will have to wake up. When Coin tells her she can kill Snow, it at least seems to motivate her.

Without going through Command, Plutarch creates a television show with the remaining victors, minus Katniss and Peeta, since they're in recovery. I expect a relatively full stage, even after everything, but it's just me, Annie, Johanna, Beetee, and Enobaria. We're supposed to talk about how good it is that the war is over, and how the arenas will be destroyed, but he's obviously pursuing his own agenda, as he asks us about all the people in the Capitol who've helped us.

Things are calmer. People ask for autographs as we leave, and weep over Finnick and Chaff and all of the others who've left.

Coin installs all of us in rooms in different parts the Presidential mansion. For our protection, of course, and because we deserve to share in the spoils of war. We are not allowed to turn this gift down. I ask if Effie can come stay with me. She can't. I call on Tazzy and Miss Buttery to help, but I don't know how well it works out. I am not exactly forbidden to see Effie, but I am kept busy and so is she.

Coin tires of going day by day, and executes the Games workers from Districts Four, Five, and Six the following day, then takes break from the arduous task of killing beauticians to put down all the mutts in the Mutt Zoo, despite the protest of the president of the Muttation Appreciation Society. He storms into the mansion and demands to know who is responsible. Plutarch handles it.

Katniss continues to recover. She is moved to a regular bed. She still won't speak, and she's assigned a psychiatrist. Plutarch insists on a man named Aurelius, who is a Capitol doctor he claims has experience with Games trauma. It may even be true. Annie seems to know him and think well of him. He claims that Katniss is a "psychological Avox," the trauma of her sister's death forcing her into a nightmare world where she has no voice.

A week passes. Spontaneous demonstrations in District Nine kill their prep teams. How the prep teams got there is not a subject addressed by the news.

I take to wandering around the mansion. Snow is being guarded in his private greenhouse, a concoction even more elaborate than the one I got caught in during the Victory Tour last year. Baize Paylor, of District Eight, is in charge of his guard. She is tight-lipped and angry about a great many things. She says that she wants Snow to talk to Katniss. I can't imagine why.

"Yes, you can," she says. "But you don't want to."

Peeta is moved into the mansion the next day. His burns are still very visible -- angry red marks on his face and arms -- but they are healing well. He has asked to see Katniss. They've turned him down. "I guess it makes sense," he says. "I did try to kill her. After everything... I don't think I would."

He doesn't sound sure. Aurelius starts talking to him as well.

Gale is abruptly shipped off to District Two to lead soldiers in clearing out Peacekeepers who've holed up in the hills. I am not present when it happens, but rumors start to spread that he challenged Coin over something. It was behind closed doors.

Beetee is badly shaken after Gale's departure. He mutters about notes and traps, but he is abruptly very obedient.

I go to sleep that night thinking about what I don't want to imagine, what Gale might have challenged Coin over, why Beetee is skittish.

I think of Prim, her breath glowing, then disappearing. And I think of her looking at the unscrewed panel with the emblem of the Union of Districts and saying, "I wonder why they took that off the hover craft."

There is something huge and horrible trying to break through my mind. I sit through a Command meeting. I don't ask any questions. I think I open my mouth a few times.

Back at my room, I find a crate of liquor from Snow's private cellars waiting for me.

The next several days swim together, and I am lost. I seem to be back in the Victors' Village, in my house, surrounded by my mess. I wonder why Hazelle hasn't come to help me keep clean, then I remember that I'm not a licensed employer. I see Peeta, frustrated, trying to clean up around me. I tell him he should try and understand Katniss a little bit more. Somewhere, I hear that Katniss has recovered. I remember that she can't talk. I think it has something to do with the Quell.

I drink more. I look at the ceiling and I see a white bear moving among thirteen stars. I hear Prim ask her question. I tell her that it doesn't matter. How could it matter?

Images swirl into each other. I have lost my balance entirely. No one comes to take the booze away, or if they do, someone else comes and replaces it. I want to stay drunk. I want my mind to not make any more connections. I let the bear walk through the stars.

I start to see the bear, even when my eyes are closed. I start to dream of it. I see Beetee riding it, pulling back useless on the reins. I see Gale feeding it.

I drink more. I need the bear to vanish. I start sleeping with my knife again.

My mind slips back comfortably into an older time. I am at my house. Next door, Peeta is painting at all hours of the night. He isn't bringing me bread anymore. I'm not sure why. I hear that Katniss is pouting, not talking to anyone. I decide drunkenly that it must be about Gale and Peeta. The whole rebellion counting on her -- Plutarch visits me all the time and says they need her -- and she won't even talk. I figure she'll come to me. She always comes to me with problems. I don't know why.

So I am not surprised when something touches my leg, reaches me in an alcohol-induced stupor. T his isn't enough. A moment later I am doused in cold water, and I open my eyes. Katniss is standing above me. She says, "Haymitch."

"Oh," I say. "You."

Her voice is shaky, but it's there. Her eyes are wide. Something in my mind says that I've forgotten something, but I can't get hold of it. "Haymitch," she says again.

"Listen to that," I say. The Mockingjay found her voice." I laugh. "Plutarch's going to be happy." I reach for a bottle. I am shivering, and I can feel the real world lurking far too close to me. "Why am I soaking wet?"

"I need your help," she says.

Of course she does. "What is it, sweetheart? More boy trouble?"

Suddenly, her face goes pale and she makes an awful, wounded, choking sound. Everything comes back.

Everything.

The bombs.

Prim.

The bear and the stars.

She doesn't have boy troubles. She has almost been killed in an explosion that killed the one person she admits to loving. "Okay," I say, and I hear the slur in my voice. I am disgusted. So is she. She runs for the door. "Not funny. Come back!"

But she's gone.

I try to stumble from my bed, but I am tangled in the sheets and disoriented and ashamed.

I sit on the floor, in the midst of a forest of empty bottles, and I pick up my knife.

I look at the knife for a long time.

Then I put it carefully down on the dresser, change my clothes, and go out to look for Katniss.
17 comments or Leave a comment
Comments
From: (Anonymous) Date: May 13th, 2013 07:57 am (UTC) (Link)
Oh oh oh. Rational response: this whole chapter says so much in such sparing language, and it builds so perfectly to Haymitch's nadir in the last few lines. Stunning, understated pacing. Feelings-based response: TEARS FOREVER.
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: May 13th, 2013 05:24 pm (UTC) (Link)
Thank you! Sending Haymitch back down that path was painful, but canonically necessary. And, unfortunately, fairly likely even without knowledge from canon.
dragonzair From: dragonzair Date: May 13th, 2013 08:41 am (UTC) (Link)
I can't even think of anything to say.

I'm crazy happy to read Effie again. I loved your version of her in The Golden Mean. Ugh, that story of her when she was 16, though :(

I love that Delly/Cressida bit. Every time you add small things like that relating to your previous stories.

And poor poor Haymitch D:
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: May 13th, 2013 05:26 pm (UTC) (Link)
It was good to get Effie back. I like her weird little relationship with Haymitch. (To quote Buffy, "Weird love is better than no love.")

I do feel bad for Haymitch. I feel bad for Katniss that he let her down when she needed him most, but just as bad for him, because he obviously realized it almost immediately.
tree_and_leaf From: tree_and_leaf Date: May 13th, 2013 08:49 am (UTC) (Link)
This is really grueling, although the sections where Haymitch is caring for Effie are quite sweet, in a grim sort of way.

I think something has happened to the structure of this sentence:

No matter what Plutarch and I say over the next few days is the truth.

(Possibly should be "No matter what, what Plutarch and I say over the next few days is the truth.", or "No matter what Plutarch and I say over the next few days, it's the truth.")
tree_and_leaf From: tree_and_leaf Date: May 13th, 2013 08:50 am (UTC) (Link)
Also, I really liked the way you only have Haymitch fall apart after he's separated from Effie, and that it's when he no longer has someone else to protect and look after that he can't keep going.
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: May 13th, 2013 05:26 pm (UTC) (Link)
I think it's the comma version that's right.

Haymitch is much better when he's responsible for someone.
From: (Anonymous) Date: May 13th, 2013 11:42 am (UTC) (Link)
This chapter is amazing. It hits even harder than the fall of the Capitol chapter. I ... have nothing coherent to say; just wanted to let you know that it works.

TSS
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: May 13th, 2013 05:27 pm (UTC) (Link)
Thanks!
redrikki From: redrikki Date: May 13th, 2013 01:24 pm (UTC) (Link)
Out with the old boss, in with the new boss and she's exactly the same. I wont say I like the various subtle and not so subtle ways Coin is dealing with opposition, but it's certainly ineresting in a terrifying sort of way.
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: May 13th, 2013 05:28 pm (UTC) (Link)
I wanted to put in some direct mirrors between Coin and Snow -- the tormenting of Peeta, the humiliation of Effie.
barbara_the_w From: barbara_the_w Date: May 13th, 2013 01:32 pm (UTC) (Link)
Coin set him up to drink again.
B*tch.

I'm so, so glad to see Haymitch and Effie helping each other. "What would Haymitch do" indeed!
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: May 13th, 2013 05:29 pm (UTC) (Link)
Coin set him up to drink again.

Yup. Granted, he's responsible for actually opening the bottle and starting to drink, but sticking a case of liquor in a room with an alcoholic who is trying not to realize something and has been traumatized by events... it's not quite force-feeding, but it is certainly a working definition of putting a stumbling block before the blind.
From: (Anonymous) Date: May 13th, 2013 11:10 pm (UTC) (Link)

Miscellaneous

Oh, good for Beetee, spiriting away the District 3 people!

Loved how Haymitch and Plutarch told Effie to think of herself as a tribute with them as her mentor and escort.

Always great to continue seeing Tazzy and Solly.

And that was a particularly elegant way for Coin to put Haymitch out of commission. Awful, but as you already said, canonical.

And glad to finally see where the title of your fic fits in and what it means.

Anyway, even though I know that things are starting to wrap up, I've been enjoying it all immensely.

Sara Libby
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: May 14th, 2013 12:19 am (UTC) (Link)

Re: Miscellaneous

I've been trying to figure out how to do the title drop for several chapters now. I knew from the start that was what it meant, but it kept not working in the prose!

Still have seven chapters and the epilogue left!
shortysc22 From: shortysc22 Date: May 14th, 2013 12:38 am (UTC) (Link)
I'm glad Effie survived fairly unharmed, I don't know how much more abuse I can take! You've definitely putting the characters through a lot and I'm glad Haymitch has Effie back. I'm curious if Hazelle or Ruth will talk to Haymitch anymore, I've always loved their conversations.
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: May 14th, 2013 12:54 am (UTC) (Link)
We've got a while to go. I imagine there will be some conversations while Katniss is in the room later.
17 comments or Leave a comment