Thankfully, he left that party with no bruises.

As a gift from the host he was given different clothes for Cissy to wear, all high end in the Capitol. He was also given a soft green top; a button up with tiny little flowers embroidered on the breast pockets. It was pretty if he was being honest, but he wouldn't be able to wear it by choice. Someone would demand he wear it for an event, and then it would be ruined.

Eden spent the majority of that night smiling forced smiles, drinking with fake excitement and pretending he found it funny when people would as him to take his clothes off, or at least your shirt. It was awful.

Four separate times a new person asked him about Flora and what he missed, as if she were merely a topic of conversation to get past. Some he could answer: how are you enjoying the evening? What is your opinion on Orinia May's new line of toilet seatS? Has your hair always been that colour? Others — have you had another lover since... — he had to step away.

He hadn't had that conversation with himself yet. Could his recent...activities with the Capitol folk be considered taking lovers?

Part of him said it most certainly was. How could you give yourself to someone so intimately and not view them as a lover? On the other hand, none of his partners since Flora were entirely his choice.

That's what sex was supposed to be. It was meant to be a freely given choice, to hand up that part of yourself because you chose to, whether you love the partner or not.

It was meant to be a choice.

But how could he explain that to these people?

How could he explain that to a city full of people who had never needed to ask for something as simple as consent in their lives?

To avoid conflict, Eden would simply excused himself to the bathroom. When inside, he would allow himself a moment for composition and then would pull out his persona and make another appearance. Even when he wanted to drown himself in the sink, he would.

For Narcissa.

•••

After another three weeks, and after President Snow seemed convinced Eden would do what he was told, he was allowed to take his baby girl home. At the ripe age of half a year, he could see the beauty of Flora in her.

The two had spent four days together in his Capital apartment under part time supervision by both of their doctors to ensure he was competent and able to care for both himself and her. In that time he discovered Cissy would rather shove carrots up her nose than in her mouth, and would cry out and try to grab for blueberries. She wouldn't eat them, naturally; just mash them up and smear them all over her clothes.

Cissy would grab at anything she didn't immediately recognize, like broaches and earrings, buttons and frills, blocks and balls...and all of it would go in her mouth. She was a ridiculous child but he'd be damned if she wasn't one of a few good things left in this world.

They were sent off just in time for the Victory Tour preparation. It would begin the morning after they got home. He'd have one night to be with his family; all four of them. One precious night to be alone before the cameras and stylists and Cesar Flickerman himself would arrive.

Gramps and Eve were waiting at the train station when they got there. His little sister was crying before the doors even opened, and sprinted to him the second she could. Eden wrapped one arm around her while the other held Cissy in her travel seat.

Eve was familiar to him, so incredibly familiar he could've fallen to his knees and sobbed right there. But he wouldn't do that in public.

Gently, Gramps stepped over and took his baby from him. Eden's first instinct was to tighten his grip and keep everyone away from her, but at the sight of those old brown eyes he found himself letting go.

"I missed you," Eve whispered into his shoulder.

With slow but deliberate movements he held her tightly. When he let go and looked up, Gramps was watching him with a sad smile. "You did a good job," he murmured and handed the carrier over to Eve.

His entire body began to tremble as he forced one foot after another until he was all but collapsing into Gramps' arms. He was strong for an old man, and hardly stumbled upon the abruptly added weight. "She's dead," Eden managed to say, grabbing fistfuls of the sweater he had cried into several times in his childhood.

The arms that raised him tightened their grip on him. "I know. I'm sorry."

Eden's chest heaved. "I couldn't save her."

"You did your best," Gramps said to him.

Behind him, he could hear Eve talking to Narcissa and the two were giggling. His heart sank. "My best wasn't enough."

Gramps shifted him to hold Eden's face in his hands so he couldn't look away. "You did everything you possibly could. All of you did." He squeezed him tightly for a moment before letting go. "Come on, let's go home."

In the time he had been back in District 10, his room in the Victor's village hadn't changed much.

On the walls was framed decorative art that had been there before his family moved in. The bed was plain, cream sheets and a wooden frame with pillows that we're actually fluffy.

He had a set of drawers for his clothes and a stand cupboard to keep his jackets and shoes.

It was nice, much nicer than the old three room rancher he had grown up in, but it wasn't home. If he was able to, he spent most of his time outside.

At first he would try to weave crowns out of the greenery he found like Flora had shown him, but Eden never had been good at it. Then he would try to make bouquets to bring back, maybe have a reminder of her for his new room, but he wasn't any good at that either. Eventually, he gave in and just sat in the cattle barns of his old house.

The family that lived there now was cautious but good to him. Paisley and Desmond Clarke with their three sons would allow him to stay in their barns for days at a time, just working around him to continue with their jobs. After noticing this he started working the area he stayed before sitting and leaving the product at their front steps.

The steps he watched their boys trip on, just as him and Eve had for all those years.

This soon turned into Eden helping them work the barns. Some days he would go for a few hours while Gramps or his sister would watch the baby, others he would leave at dawn and come home well after dusk.

Some days he just needed to work himself into exhaustion.

Eden thought about all the things that had been strewn around his bedroom in that house compared to what he had in his new space and could only sigh.

"Are you okay with pasta for dinner?" Eve asked.

He hadn't realized they were home already.

"Yeah," he nodded with a slow blink. "Pasta sounds good...as long as you can cook it."

The slow smile that briefly crept onto his face was the result of probably the most offended look his little sister had ever given him. Eden would be the first to admit he was annoying as an older brother, and it was somewhat comforting to know that hadn't changed after what he had survived.

"I'm fully capable of cooking pasta," Eve huffed, hands set on her hips. "Ask Gramps, I've made it tons of times since we got moved here."

From where he was taking Cissy out of the car in her carrier, Gramps looked to him and with his free arm, he discreetly tilted his hand left-to-right over and over as if to say eh.

Eden just smiled, taking the time to hook an arm around Eve's shoulders. He'd missed his sister and hadn't even realized it. A stab of panic tore through him as he realized Eve was now twelve. In six months, her name would be entered into the reaping.

He forced the thought from his mine; he could worry about that later.

After so many weeks of making it hour by hour, Eden couldn't believe how much time had passed since he was properly with his family. He only hoped that this evening would be enough to get him through the tour.

•••

Admittedly, the pasta Eve made was one of her better concoctions. It was nothing like the food in the Capitol he had been eating lately which just made it that much better. He'd eaten his dinner silently, just watching as Gramps tried to feed Narcissa a mushed up green fruit called an avocado, which she utterly refused to let near her mouth.

Apparently Eve had taken a liking to having avocado on toasted bread, and this was left over from what she'd eaten this morning. Eden thought it looked disgusting but wisely kept his mouth shut as his sister was already looking at him with narrowed eyes, waiting for him to say something.

He just shoved in another spoonful of pasta.

Gramps eventually gave up and switched over to mushed up apples which she decided to tolerate. Most of it went in her mouth rather than all over her clothes so he supposed that was good.

As she started to doze off Eden took her to bed, waving away Eve's offer to put her in the crib by saying he would need all the sleep he could get.

More importantly, he would need the peace.

The moment his teams from the Capitol showed up, all semblance of solitude would be gone. He would have time no time to be alone until the end of the tour, which he had been dreading since the moment he was crowned Victor. For weeks, he would be forced into the company of people who believed he was more of a character than a person.

A child.

He was still a child.

He was a child, and they had forced him to do things he never thought himself capable of.

They had taken away his childhood, they had taken away all of his choices. Now they were taking his body, his mind, and everything else they could.

They were taking his future.

Everything he was and would become belonged to them. For the rest of his life, Eden would be a puppet who's master made him dance for the enjoyment and amusement of the rich.

Those strings would never be cut.

From the crib he could hear Narcissa snoring, and he tried his best to focus solely on that.

In and out.

In and out.

In and out.

Her tiny chest rose and fell with each breath.

Up and down.

Up and down.

Up and down.

Slowly, he closed his eyes. Images danced through his tired mind; visions of costumes and stages, an audience and performers, masks and makeup. It was enough to have his heart racing.

So he focuses on the sounds little Narcissa made when she dreamt, and then fell asleep to that sound.

Author's Note:
since when is an avocado a fucking fruit