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I’m re reading chapter 73 and screaming cos I wanted to take this in one direction but I’m being heavily influenced by SOTR while I’m trying not to be 🥲🙃
Do you have any plans on writing a hayffie fic with sotr canon in mind? I'd love to see your take on it!!
I don’t have any plans as yet (some stuff will end up slipping out I’m sure 😂) since I have a lot lined up for the DFYCW universe (and I’ve already established some of the details for the 50th Games and Hayffie within it that I’ll need to roll with for the prequel - which I had completely planned out and even started writing before SOTR was announced 😅)
BUT you may see little references to things from SOTR within the prequel when I finally get around to putting it out there since there were some things that I really liked which I haven’t written myself out of using!
I feel when I get onto Two For Two (which will be my next big project after DFYCW) there will be some heavy SOTR influences in that, and there will be Hayffie!
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She turned her head into the pillow and breathed deep. The cotton was soft and fresh against her cheek, everything was just the right side of soothing.
“Don’t you touch her!”
Or it had been.
“We have to treat her.”
“Let me see her!”
“Absolutely not.”
Mags finally opened her eyes, squinting at the bright light directly above the bed she was lay… Apparently strapped to. What in Panem was going on?
Pushing herself up on her elbows as much as she could she tried to take in her surroundings. The room was bare except for her bed and the hook beside it, on which hung a bag of yellowish liquid that attached to a tube running all the way to her elbow, stuck to her skin with a needle. No, windows, not even in the singular door. White walls and… (She squirmed to better see) white flooring.
Where was she?
She lowered herself back into the bed, her mind unpleasantly fuzzy at the edges.
“I don’t like this game…” She muttered.
Game.
Game!
The Games!
She surged upright as far as her restraints would allow.
She was in the Capitol.
She had been in the Hunger Games.
She had survived the Hunger Games.
“Let me in or I’ll break the door down myself!”
“Oh, really?”
A laugh.
“I’d love to see you try,”
“Dad.”
“Get her out of here Lyssa. Before I have the Peacekeepers remove her for disrupting the peace. You should never have brought her here in the first place.”
“Dad. She’s bound to be curious.”
“Out. Now!”
Mags laid back down in the bed.
Memories assaulted her mind, flooding it with images she’d rather not think about. Instead she let her mind wander to the voices outside the door. There were definitely three, two female, one male. The females must have been younger, she’d heard one call the man ‘Dad’. Were they her age? They must be, or at least around that, surely?
Suddenly, the door opened. Mags screwed her eyes closed, willing herself to relax and pretend she was still asleep. But her body wouldn’t let her, her hands balled into fists, her muscles tensed, ready for a fight.
Instead she was greeted with a laugh.
“Now, now, Miss Flanagan. No need for any of that.”
It was the voice of the man beyond the door.
“Your being awake does have some advantages to me. I can ask you what your pain is like, if you would like something to drink, eat, perhaps?”
She cracked open one eye. He towered over her, shuffling some papers he looked at between glances at her body.
Skin and bone. That’s all she was right now.
Almost as suddenly as he had opened the door he prodded her arm with something sharp, eliciting a hiss.
The man tutted. “Do I need to get the Peacekeepers in here?”
She shook her head.
“Your words, Miss Flanagan.”
“No.” She forced her hands out of their fists. “No, I won’t fight.”
“That’s perfect!”
His smile was far too wide. He jabbed her with something sharp again.
“Ow!”
“It’s just some basic precautions, you know, who knows what you might have contracted in that arena,”
“Murderous intent is the only thing I’m aware of.” She couldn’t stop herself.
But instead of punishing her, the man laughed.
“You know, I have a daughter around your age.” His attention had returned to the pieces of paper in his hands. “You remind me of her,”
“Was that her? Just now?” She nodded to the door.
He froze, looking towards her slowly.
“Why, yes, as a matter of fact. I’m sorry you had to hear all of that,” He made his way to the bag of liquid on the hook and squeezed it a little before writing something on his papers. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay, I guess…” She watched his every move. From the moment she had arrived in the Capitol everyone had been the enemy. The people who scrubbed her clean and trussed her up like some sunday roast, to shove her in front of a camera, all the while turning their noses up like she was some sort of animal; the man who had interviewed her in front of those same cameras, making jokes at her expense and acting like she didn’t understand; the other tributes really went without saying. Now here was another Capitol citizen, prodding and poking, asking her questions but not really paying attention… “Who was the other girl?”
He stiffened.
“What other girl?”
“The one with your daughter. I heard two voices, is she a friend of hers?”
“No!” He whirled around. “Don’t be ridiculous! That girl is…” He looked nervously around the room. “She’s no one. Don’t concern yourself with her.”
He was a Capitol man, they were in the Capitol. What did he have to be nervous about?
“I only wonder because…”
“Really, don’t concern yourself. Your main focus needs to be recovery. And that’s what I’m here for. Only the best for our newest Victor.”
“Your what?”
“Victor. Winner of the Hunger Games. This year that’s you. You’re the Victor. I’m here to make sure you’re all spick and span, right as rain, right on time for your victory celebrations.”
Mags’ head spun. “Victory celebrations?”
“Oh yes, Dr Gaul assures us all it will be quite the affair. I can’t give you all the details, obviously, don’t want to spoil the surprises but it promised to be most exquisite. Exclusive guest list, invite only, except for one part… That will be broadcast across Panem…” He lifted her wrist, fingers pressed across her pulse. “But like I said, shan’t spoil the surprise!”
“But I don’t want any of that.”
“Pardon?”
“I want to go home,”
“Don’t be a spoilsport Miss Flanagan. You’ll enjoy it,”
“I won’t.” She shook her head. “I want to go home.” Her chest felt tight.
“All those people celebrating you. You don’t want to miss out on that.” He dropped her wrist with little care for how her arm landed. “You’ll need to get your strength back of course. Have something more of a meal than just nutrients through a tube, but we’ll see about that in a couple of days now you’re awake.”
He lifted one of her feet to assess it. She yanked it out of his hand.
“I. Want. To. Go Home.”
His expression shifted, to one she didn’t particularly like for a whole different reason.
“Careful Miss Flanagan.”
“No.” She tried to get away from him as best she could, but all she could manage was to bend her knees. They hadn’t retrained her legs. “No. I don’t want any of these things. I just want to go home.”
“Easy.”
She tried desperately to yank her arms free from the leather cuffs as he made his way back up to her shoulders.
“Alright,” She felt another sharp prick in her arm, and this one really stung. “I think that’s enough for today.”
The fuzzy edges crept further across her mind, nothing she did managing to dislodge them in any way. The fog kept on creeping no matter how much she shook her head, no matter how much she forced her eyes open, gritted her teeth, breathed deep. The fog kept coming. Until her eyes fell shut, until she no longer had the energy to tug on her restraints, until her breathing slowed like she had no control over it.
Her head dropped uselessly to the pillow, her legs slid back down the bed.
“We’ll try this again in another few days. Perhaps then you’ll be more interested in being compliant.”
She was vaguely aware of the door closing before she slipped back into oblivion.
The mystery girl’s voice echoed through her mind.
“Let me see her!”
Sure, that was a friend she’d like to have.
Through the next few days- weeks? She wasn’t sure… This was how her routine continued. The man (Doctor as she later found out) would wake her up, check her over, tell her about all of these ‘nice’ things they had planned. She would get ‘combative’ and he would try his best not to piss his pants (She’d gnashed her teeth at him once when he was a little too close and she’d never seen anyone move so fast). She would repeat her distaste for whatever the plans were, ask to go home, and he would plunge another needle into her arm, sending her back into the dark.
Until one morning- -
Well, she couldn’t exactly be sure it was morning actually on the account of the lack of windows.
Until one day there was a different face peering over her bed. One that jumped when she opened her eyes, like she really hadn’t been expecting it. The doctor was always expecting it.
The girl moved to crouch by Mags’ head. “Well, hey there.”
That voice.
“I’m so sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,”
It was the girl who had shouted. The not the doctors daughter’s friend girl.
“I just wanted to check you were alright,” She laughed a little as she said that. “I mean, of course you’re not alright what a silly thing of me to say… I guess, wanted to make sure they hadn’t messed with you, is more the appropriate way of putting things.”
“Why would they mess with me?” Her voice was croaky from disuse.
“Oh darling, have you seen what they do to themselves here? They have a funny sense of fashion,” She reached out and smoothed some of the hair back from Mags’ forehead - she must look a mess.
“Will you hurry up?!” Another face appeared at the door. “Hil, can’t distract people for too much longer.” The doctors daughter.
“Alright, alright!” The girl waved her away, and she disappeared back around the door. “Listen,” She turned all of her attention back to Mags. “I know you want to go home. I know. But just do as they say for now,”
“But…”
She held up a finger. “I know. Trust me. The less you fight the quicker you’re gonna get to go home. Put up with their parties, and their pampering, and whatever else they’re going to put you through. And at the end of it all you get to go home.”
“But I don’t want to make it so easy.”
“I know. Believe me, I do. I didn’t have to go through all of this crap. I wasn’t even checked for injuries, I was just thrown on the first train outta this place so they could begin to forget about me,”
“So why are you back here?”
“Hurry up!” The doctor's daughter was back at the door.
“That’s a story for another day, darling.” She shook her head. “Just do what they say and you’ll get outta here a whole lot quicker, I swear it,”
“They forced us to kill each other!”
“Trust me, there’s no one who knows the brutality of this place more than me.” She took a deep breath. “Do what they say, stop fightin’, get yourself out of here. Find me at the big party.” She fished a red envelope out of her skirt pocket. “Seems I’m on the guest list. We’ll talk more there.”
“But I don’t want to stop fighting,”
The girl smiled widely. “Perfect,”
“Lucy Gray!” The doctor's daughter hissed from the doorway.
“I think we’re gonna be good friends, me and you, Mags.” She rose from her crouch, and leaned over the bed as she passed, loosening the buckles on the restraints so they weren’t as tight. “Now, go back to sleep and rest some more. You’re gonna need it,”
“Please, don’t go,”
“Sorry, darling, I have to. But I’ll see you next week. Promise.”
