#aster is nowhere near that disciplined

[astererer]

after like days and days of trying to write this out i finally have the time to share some Aster Lore w y’all :)) slapping under the cut bc it got a wee bit lengthy

born into a family of flying taxi cabbies, like there’s at least one person every generation who grows up to be a cabbie — family tradition of each child receiving a rookidee as their first pokemon when they’re like. 5 years old. constant bird companion

used to be a shy child — could be very talkative around family and pokemon, but tended to struggle with interacting with other people a lot to the point that she dropped out of her initial gym challenge attempt after winning a single gym badge. not wanting to give up entirely tho, she spent a few years working on her confidence and tried again when she was 14, still riddled with anxieties but more mentally prepared and armed with coping strategies for if she started to feel overwhelmed

mostly took part because winning gym battles means getting a cash prize as well as the badges. had absolutely zero intention of reaching the finals and facing leon but somehow managed it anyway. and won. like it was a close fight, practically a draw, but a victory is a victory and she got crowned champion of galar

then within 2 weeks she just quit. up and left. packed her bags and ran away to travel (which was her original plan anyway). no notice to the league itself, aster simply went home, told her family she couldn’t handle being in a role she didn’t really want in the first place, and disappeared off to kalos. turns out there’s a lot of pressure that comes with being a reigning champion, both in a business sense and due to everyone in the region knowing who you are, making it impossible to go anywhere without being hounded by strangers, and aster was like “nah not dealing with this. bye lol”. after a brief statement from her family where they confirmed she left of her own volition, leon got his title back and any media circus about aster’s extremely early retirement was promptly killed.

spent the next few years exploring different regions before deciding to settle in unova, at first in nacrene city, but moved to nimbassa after a year — the art scene in nacrene city is cool and all, but nimbassa just has so many things to do for fun and is also just a more central location.

aster’s personality has changed between abdicating the galar league and the present day. over the course of a decade and experiencing new things + meeting new people near constantly, she’s become more outspoken and relaxed, able to talk to total strangers with relative ease. also developed a flair for dramatics, which can be seen in how her battling style has evolved over time

doesn’t really have a job. currently makes most of her income by visiting black city every few days to battle other trainers in the tower, or helping out an artist friend back in nacrene city with any odd jobs that need doing. aster likes not having an actual job, she’d rather be able to spend as much time as possible devoted to her hobbies and her team, than have to take orders from another person or deal with the responsibility of giving other people orders.

loves movies. like outside of pokemon, film is her favourite thing in the world. since moving to nimbassa city aster has been building up a collection of blu rays and dvds, to the point that she has entire shelves full of them, floor to ceiling. any genre is good in her eyes, she’ll watch anything whether it’s a corny romcom or a surrealist horror. has also started investing in better sound systems and a projector, and is currently in the process of turning her apartment’s living room into a home cinema sort of deal.

[ellanainthetardis]

I hope you will like this chapter! Please let me know your thoughts!

[FF] or [AO3]

Chapter 6 : Count To Five

The storm lasted three days.

It left the District muddy and Haymitch with a cough that he had been treating with medicinal moonshine – despite Aster’s insistence that he should use her herbal remedies instead. Truth be told, he was glad for the excuse, it allowed him to avoid the kids without too much difficulties. Being stuck in his house though… He was getting antsy.

He had burned the white rose but it didn’t matter, its fragrance lingered. It was most likely in his head, he knew that, but it made little difference. He could still smell it. Like a faint poison in the air, an omen of what was to come.

It wasn’t just the flower or what it stood for, it was the fact that people had broken into his house, had violated the only refuge he had left. He didn’t feel safe anymore – although he supposed that was very much the point. His sleep schedule that had already been erratic was now almost inexistent. He fell asleep sometimes – or passed out rather – but never for long. Either the familiar creaking and popping of the house would startle him awake or he would have a nightmare. He clutched the handle of his knife so often and so tightly that his fingers were regularly cramping.

Something had to give.

Which was why he wasn’t really surprised when he heard the racket in the street one morning. Startled, yes. Wary, yes. But surprised, no.

He head the neigh of a horse as well as the brutal noise of wheels hitting the various potholes that lined the Village’s streets. He was halfway to the front door when someone hammered on it in a panic.

He kept his knife out of sight but ready to be used.

“Tom.” he frowned when he recognized the middle-aged man.

Everyone in the District knew Tom. He was older than Haymitch by a good ten years and he had been in charge of deliveries for as long as anyone could remember. Horses and carts were rare in Twelve, it was enough to assure his notoriety. Their paths had crossed a few times at the Hob but Haymitch couldn’t remember ever having a real conversation with him.

“Katniss and Gale are in trouble.” the old man said, obviously worried. “New Peacekeepers arrived this morning. It’s… It’s like the old days. Before Cray.”

Haymitch’s heart missed a beat.

Before Cray…

He didn’t hesitate.

He rushed to the cart, not bothering to ask the man if he could give him a ride. Tom was already climbing back up and encouraged the horse to go as fast as he could. It still wasn’t fast enough for Haymitch who jumped out as soon as they got closer to town.

It wasn’t difficult to find the kids.

He only had to follow the shouts. He pushed people aside, shouldering his way through the thick crowd that was massing on the square.

He faltered for a second when he caught sight of what was happening.

Gale Hawthorne was tied to the whipping post that had rarely been used since Cray had become Head Peacekeeper, his back a bloody mess. Darius, one of the youngest Peacekeepers, was lying on the ground not too far – knocked out or dead, Haymitch wasn’t sure.

The sight that really made his heart stop right in his chest was the rest though.

The stranger in the white uniform of a Head Peacekeeper was pointing a gun straight at Katniss, the whip clutched in his other hand.

And the stupid girl remained there, in front of her friend, blood dripping from a gash on her cheek, chin high, looking every bit the symbol of a rebellion that would never happen.

“Last warning.” the man growled. “Step aside.”

Haymitch jumped in-between them, almost relieved when the barrel of the gun turned to him. He lifted both hands in a defensive gesture, to show he wasn’t a threat.

“Get out of my way.” the Peacekeeper ordered.

“You don’t want to shoot her.” he said quickly. “Do you know who I am? Do you know who she is? You don’t want to shoot her.”

The man didn’t look impressed. “You’re both interfering. Step aside now.”

“I’m Haymitch. She’s Katniss Everdeen.” he insisted. “You…” Peeta appeared out of nowhere and put himself in the middle, giving Haymitch another small heart attack. He grabbed the kid by the lapel of his shirt and pushed him behind him, stretching his arms wide to make himself the bigger target. “Look…”

“Victors aren’t above the law.” the Peacekeeper spat. “The law’s been ignored long enough in this District. It changes today.” The man looked around at the crowd that had gathered and that was being kept in check by a few Peacekeepers whose faces Haymitch didn’t recognize, making eye contact with the strongest looking men standing there – identifying the potential threats. “Victors aren’t above the law. Nobody is above the law. Anyone caught poaching will be punished. Anyone caught partaking in black market will be punished. Anyone violating curfew will be punished. Anyone interfering with justice will be punished.” The sneer was directed toward Haymitch. “Discipline in Twelve has been lacking, I’m here to see to that. I’ve been handpicked for this job. I have specific orders, so this is the only warning you get, Abernathy. Step aside.”

His breaths came out in fast puffs. He wanted to cough but it was stuck in his throat.

Specific orders. Victors not being above the law.

He had expected retributions, he hadn’t thought it would be taking this particular shape.

He needed to get the kids out of there. But Peeta wouldn’t go without Katniss and Katniss wouldn’t go without Hazelle’s son.

“What did the boy do?” he asked, trying to sound calm and to maintain eye contact. “Surely, he’s got enough? First offence and all that…”

“I’m done with the boy. Ten lashes for poaching, that’s the rate. Next time, it’ll be thirty. The time after that, the firing squad.” the new Head Peacekeeper dismissed before pointing his whip at something above Haymitch’s shoulder. “Now, she interfered.”

“He’s her cousin and she’s stupid.” he said quickly.

“She still interfered.” the man shrugged, putting his gun away and transferring the whip from his left to his right hand. “The law’s the law. No exception.”

“He can’t be serious.” Peeta scoffed behind him.

Haymitch was afraid the man was being very, very serious on the contrary. Nothing would send a stronger message than having Katniss Everdeen whipped on the main square.

A hushed murmur of protestation floated around the crowd but the new Peacekeepers’ guns were effective enough. Nobody actually moved. And even if they were to move… It would have given the Capitol an excuse to open fire. People would have died for nothing and he would have been responsible for the bloodshed because he was the reason they were in this mess in the first place.

The white rose on its bed of ashes.

The smell he couldn’t shake.

The law was the law.

He licked his lips and dropped his arms back to his side. “She’s not eighteen.”

“And if her parents want to take responsibility for her that’s fine.” the Peacekeeper shrugged. “But they better step forward now.”

He didn’t know where Aster was and he wasn’t sure she would have done it anyway. Nor was it the clever choice anyway. They were short of healers in Twelve. And it was becoming clear they would need her in the near future.  

“I’m legally responsible for her.” he objected.

“Haymitch, what are you doing?” Katniss scowled behind him but bless Peeta’s reflexes. The boy grabbed her and held her back before she could put herself in the middle again.

“You’re saying you’re her father?” the Head Peacekeeper snorted. “I’m pretty sure that would have made the news.” 

“I’m saying I’m her mentor.” he snapped, raising his voice. “I’m saying that gives me guardianship over her when her mother’s not around. I’m saying she’s sixteen and I’m responsible for her so you’re touching her over my dead body.”

He just hoped that wouldn’t be literal.

The man studied him for a second and then nodded his assent.

Haymitch breathed a sigh of relief. His argument was fishy at best and he was pretty sure the law wasn’t that clear about what to do with a mentor who tried to claim legal responsibility for another victor, underage or not. The Head Peacekeeper could have insisted. He turned to the kids and tried to look less nervous than he felt.

“Get the boy off that post and to Katniss’ mother.” he told Peeta. “And get her out of here.”

“I don’t understand.” the girl frowned. “What are you doing? What’s…”

“Get away and stay away.” he cut her off, staring straight at Peeta.

Katniss opened her mouth but Peeta dragged her to Gale before she could say anything more. They made a quick job of untying the boy, a couple of men stepped out of the crowd to help the kids carry him.

“Restrain him.” the Head Peacekeeper demanded. He didn’t raise his voice but it seemed to echo around the square.

The kids weren’t far enough and Katniss whirled back, understanding dawning on her face.

“No!” she shouted. “You can’t! Let me go! Let me go!”

Haymitch didn’t let his gaze stray in her direction. He saw, in the corners of his eyes, that Peeta had grabbed her around the waist and was bodily removing her from the scene.

He shrugged off the hand of the new Peacekeeper woman who tried to hold him with a disdainful snarl. “You mind? I like this shirt.”

He took his time unbuttoning it, trying to prepare himself for what would follow, aware that this cocky casual display of confidence could have been seen as a sign of insolence. He had never thought he would be in that position again. Being tied to a whipping post. He had though he had left that behind when they had put a crown on his head. One of the few perks of being a victor, really.

If an offender was a minor, one of their parents or legal guardians could request to take the punishment in their stead. It wasn’t a mercy thing. It was agreed that watching one of your parents getting whipped to an inch of their lives for something you did was more effective than being beaten raw yourself.

Nobody had been there to step in for him when, at the age of fifteen, he had been caught sneaking out of the woods with a bag full of rabbits. His mother had been working and had been alerted too late – not that he would have let her do it anyway – and his father… His father had been long gone by then, like the worthless drunk he had been.

There were speckles of blood everywhere around the post. He discarded the shirt to the side and tried not to flinch when the woman locked the restraints around his wrists. She didn’t look quite at ease with what was going on but she also made no offer to help him.

Darius still had to stand up so he honestly kind of understood.

He wondered where Cray was. If he had been demoted or if it was worse than that.

Then, the whip lashed out and he stopped wondering.

He clenched his jaw but couldn’t help a groan.

Fuck, but that hurt more than he remembered.  

He tried to draw strength from the crowd because there was a tension there, a quiet defiance… But in the end, compared to the pain of leather tearing his skin open, quiet defiance meant very little.

“Everdeen’s punishment would have been five lashes.” the Head Peacekeeper announced. “That was one.”

“No kidding.” He spat to the side, planting his feet wider on the ground. He could feel the blood and the sweat running down his back. “Let’s see if you can count to five now.”

It was stupid to provoke him but he had his pride, that was his flaw, and he refused to be cowed while being beaten like a dog. He put all his weight on his legs and tensed his muscles, eyes closed.

That lash was harder and the grunt he tried to swallow back left his throat raw. His lack of reaction seemed to annoy the Head Peacekeeper. This was supposed to be an example for the District, he figured, and it wasn’t exactly working out. He bowed until his forehead was against the chipped wood of the post and waited for the rest of it. Three left. He could take three. He had taken ten when he had been a teenager and he had survived. He could take three.

His left knee buckled with the next hit but he forced himself to remain still. He would not fidget. He would not fall. He wouldn’t hang there like a powerless punching ball.

His ego wouldn’t allow it.

And a part of him, a part he didn’t indulge in often, kept pushing for him to remind them who he was. He was Haymitch Abernathy. He was the Second Quarter Quell’s victor. And fuck if that didn’t mean something.

But he was also the victor who had tried to launch a rebellion and he had a feeling nobody would let him forget that anytime soon.

The three lashes on his back were more or less parallel. He knew what would come next and he breathed slowly. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Slow and deep, nicely regular.

The fourth lash crisscrossed over the other three and it was less a groan than a whimper that escaped his lips. His sight was starting to blur and he shut his eyes tight, knowing the last would be the worst. The last was always the worst.

The tip of the lash caught him above the shoulder on its way down and his left knee gave in. It hit the ground in a cloud of dust and, for a moment, he remained there, half defeated, arms stretched tight above his head, certain there would be more lashes.

“Punishment has been served. Release the prisoner.” the Head Peacekeeper declared.

Fair. Haymitch mused. Twisted but fair.

“Clear the square!” the man ordered next. “If I see any kind of illegal reunion I will arrest you all.”

His wrists were freed of the shackles and his arms heavily fell back to his sides, opening the deep gashes on his back. He took a second to breathe, shrugging off the hands that tried to help him up, clenching his jaw at the blinding pain that it triggered. He snatched his shirt from the dirt before pushing on his good knee to stand up.

He swayed a little on his feet and all he wanted to do was collapse face first and remain there. Die there, maybe, because at least it would finally be over. He stared straight at the Head Peacekeeper instead.

“I’m keeping an eye on you and on that girl of yours.” the man warned. “One toe out of line and you will regret it. Understood?”

“Crystal clear.” he sneered.

“Good.” the newcomer said. “’Cause I don’t care who you are or what you won. You’ll obey the law like everyone else.”

“Head Peacekeeper Thread.” another new Peacekeeper arrived in a hurry. “We have a lead on the black market.”

“Well done.” Thread praised, before pointing out at a still passed-out Darius. “Get that disgrace away.”  

He left without another glance for Haymitch.

“Haymitch.” Sae said, suddenly at his side. Her old cold hands wrapped tight around his arms, careful not to touch the wounds on his back. “Let’s get you home.”

“He’s gonna raid the Hob.” he said flatly.

“We heard.” she said, her eyes turning in the direction of the Seam. He realized there were quite a few people around him now, hands outstretched to prevent an eventual fall. “It’s alright, son. Someone’s gonna warn them. Let’s worry about you, now.”

“Disperse!” a Peacekeeper shouted from the side of the square. “Disperse or I shoot on sight!”

A few people ran away as fast as their legs could carry them. Sae and a few men in miners outfits remained.

“Gary and Liam are gonna carry you to Aster Everdeen.” the old woman declared.

He stepped away when the man tried to grab him. He felt dizzy and his sight kept flashing white but he shook his head. “I can walk.”

“Haymitch.” Sae rebuked.

“I can walk.” he snapped.

He was in shock. He was in shock and high on adrenaline and that was lucky because as bad as the pain was, he was sure it would get worse. Much much worse.

He put one foot in front of the other, clutching his shirt in his right hand, and onward he went. It was the trick, really, one foot in front of the other. He was aware people were watching his pitiful walk of shame. Bare-chested, mangled back, leaving a trail of blood behind him… He faltered a few times, tripped… Some people stepped forward to help him but others held them back. More watched from behind the safety of their dirty windows, safe from retributions.

The message Thread had sent had been clear.

Twelve’s victors weren’t in favor.

And it wouldn’t do to be associated with them.

It was the right move. Haymitch would have told them if he had been in a state to do so.

Instead he walked on like a mindless zombie, his only goal reaching his house before his body gave in to the shaking and the pain.

One foot in front of the other.

He was torn between relief and irritation when he saw Peeta making his way toward him as he neared the slope that went up to the Village.

“Shit.” the boy cursed. “I was coming back for you. You should have waited. You should have…”His knees gave in and, truth be told, if the boy hadn’t caught him, he would have hit the ground face first. Unfortunately, Peeta grabbed him where he could and it was around his back. His sight flashed white and he let out a pained whine. “Shit, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

He had never heard the boy curse as much. Effie would have been horrified.

“Told you to stay away.” he mumbled. He didn’t want the boy or the girl to see him like that.

“Yeah, that’s happening.” Peeta scoffed. “Let’s get you to Mrs Everdeen.”

“I’m fine.” he muttered. “Wanna go home.”

The boy looked sorry when he shook his head. “You need stitches.”

“Can do that at home.” he argued. “Wanna go home.”

“Gale isn’t doing well.” Peeta told him, hauling him up, making an effort not to worsen his injuries. “Mrs Everdeen can’t leave. You have to go to her.”

“She can do it later.” he insisted. “I need a glass.”

And to throw up. Preferably not in that order.

His guts were churning.

He managed to reach the Village’s gates but he barely had time to turn his head to the side before emptying the content of his stomach on the side of the fountain and on his shoes. The spasms made his wounds hurt worse and, in turn, it made him want to throw up again. It was a vicious circle. He was trembling now, his muscles exhausted from the ordeal. He was cold. It was no weather to walk around shirtless, all the more so when you were sweaty and already had a cough.

“I’ve got you, Haymitch.” Peeta said gently. “I’ve got you.”

He didn’t protest when the boy supported him to Katniss’ house – half carried him, really. He didn’t have it in him.

It was chaos inside the kitchen. Gale was lying face down on the table, moaning and thrashing against the hands that were trying to restrain him. Prim was trying to make the boy drink something. Katniss was standing around helplessly, a bowl of fresh snow in her hands, white as a sheet. Hazelle was silently crying as she tried to keep her son still. And Aster, who had been inspecting the boy’s wounds, looked up when they came in.

Suddenly she was right in front of him, her hands gripping his upper arms hard.

“Thank you.” she said, so raw. He nodded because there was nothing else to do.

“He needs help.” Peeta sensibly cut in.

Aster turned him around and inspected his back. Gentle fingers probed at the wounds and he couldn’t help a cry of pain. It seemed to shock everyone in the room.

“Gale’s more badly injured.” the healer declared, looking at Peeta. “Help him to the living-room. Put some snow on those gashes, it’ll help with the pain. Katniss, go get him some liquor.”

“Bless you.” he breathed out at the mention of alcohol.

Everything else was a blur. He let Peeta help him to the couch and, once he was lying there with his face down, he decided he would never move again. The snow made everything worse before it made it slightly better but it was the liquor that was the real savior there. He drank as much as he could. He drank until he almost passed out.

He was glad for it when Aster started stitching up his back. He didn’t need her quiet comment that it would scar.

One more, one left…