Chapter Text
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With the lightbulbs barely lighting the liquor cabinets nearby, the President of Panem and the one he could consider his most trusted, or at least any friend, were silently looking at each other’s side, each having a glass in hand, yet only taking occasional sips.
Festus Creed kept his mouth shut long enough to feel the air filling with awkwardness, before finally managing to speak up - friend or no friend, he was talking to a man that owned not just the Capitol, but the whole Panem. Long days of carelessly chatting at the Academy during breaks, complaining about the projects, or sharing completely one-sided stories about girls were long over.
“I am sorry,” he said, slightly lowering his head, as Coriolanus felt bitterness slowly fuel inside.
“You got nothing to apologize for,” the President responded, attempting to sound reassuring, yet still emptying the glass in one go, as this action spoke louder than any words. “More, please accept my condolences.”
“Was it that hard for your idiot father to drop dead at literally any day that wasn’t so close to the Hunger Games?” Coriolanus could barely hold himself from rolling his eyes - no, he was already pretty much failing with comforting his friend, another instance of that was surely not in his plans.
Perhaps, he was already doing Festus a favor - after all, that man had set him up greatly. Heart attack. A stupid heart attack and yet it still managed to ruin his plans.
With the death of the current director of the Creed business, Festus, as an only heir, was expected to step in almost immediately. He could not refuse - this family and their wood were too important for the Capitol.
Yet on the other hand, it could only mean that the irreplaceable Head Gamemaker for almost 10 years would also be forced to resign - there were no words to describe this happening other than “a catastrophe”. No one knew more or was more passionate about the designs of the Arenas or throwing of elaborate shows than Festus - previously thought of as nothing more than a typical, Capitolite nepotism hire, turned out to be the best pick any President, who even remotely cared about the Games could hope for.
“I will be missing the office… And the planning room,” Festus chugged some drops of whiskey, all while Coriolanus’ mind had long drifted away.
“Haven’t got time to enjoy it that much, because, you know,” President Snow could never pretend that he wished for anything else than the chair he was in right now - after all, it was a dream come true, holding an entire country in your fist. Snow lands on top, right?
Sitting next to his friend, who he let as close as he allowed himself to, Coriolanus did feel a bitter sense of annoyance, mixed with deeply hidden loneliness - Hunger Games was the thing where it all began, from where he started his rise to power, never turning back to a lying fool he once was.
Undeniably, it was impossible to not get attached to that particular thing, especially when it was the one relatively useful legacy his father left on the land of Panem.
Now, the only person who could share this weird passion was getting separated from it, and Coriolanus had no idea what to feel - was he supposed to mourn? Or feel anything other than a small wave of sadness?
He was sad. That was already enough.
As the time slowly passed, the two friends spent it recounting some of their fondest memories - they barely scratched the surface of their Academy life; once, there was a period when nothing interested them more than either grades for Coriolanus or girls for Festus. It was a world-worthy phenomenon to see him settling down with a wife and a kid. If someone said that to Coriolanus a couple of years ago, he would have just given them a side eye, laughing over the absurdity of such claims.
Festus was chuckling over remembering his very first year at the new job while sharing the ideas he would have loved to see for the 27th Hunger Games. At some point, a topic of mutts came up, with President Snow listening with carefulness to specifically it.
“You don’t believe in putting dog ones into this type of arena?” Festus raised his eyebrow, obviously not daring to say anything against the owner of Panem - he had also long stopped drinking, while Coriolanus poured himself another glass.
“No. Dr Gaul would have had your head for a ruined show a long time ago,” sipping the whiskey he smiled, yet the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I think snakes can be a nice challenge for the tributes this year.”
“Snakes?” The former Gamemaker looked at his friend weirdly. “As if your mutts? They weren’t even used for the Quarter Quell, mind you.”
“That is because we had a solid plan for that one. Was a horrid experience to organize, wasn’t it?”
Creed had gotten quieter, remembering the past and how much they both tried to turn these ones into the biggest spectacle that Panem had yet to see, yet still asked one last thing: “So, why snakes?”
“Because I want them there,” it was a simple yet solid, dry answer, that reminded Festus yet again who exactly was next to him.
“...Good luck finding someone else that would manage to keep up with your demands then,” the previous Gamemaker laughed, sometimes glancing at the sight of the whiskey bottle. It indeed wasn’t healthy much, but who could be so fearless as to demand the President to stop drinking entirely?
Well, it could be worth a shot.
“I think that’s enough,” Festus slightly pushed away the bottle, on which he received a stare so cold, it could have frozen all of the blood in his body. Coriolanus did not say anything about this offensive move - after all, Creed was the closest thing to him besides his family, can’t be too wasteful of such lives.
Yet, he still owes him - the fucker and his dead father screwed over all of his careful planning. This year’s Games will for sure somehow end up in disaster - there was not enough foundation for the Arena prepared to simply sit in that chair any incompetent, big-sounding name fool that can press buttons and look nicely on camera. They had no plan. No Gamemaker.
The control of the situation yet again was trying to slip away from him.
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The President’s day began with checking out the potential candidates for a new Head Gamemaker - plainly, that could be considered a lost cause since the very beginning, yet Coriolanus’ patience still hasn’t ran put when he yet again had to put away another set of water, internally cursing out that the current generation cannot be competent to save their life.
“Looks like some fool in the Control Center is about to get promoted,” he flinched at the very thought of this idea yet had no other choice.
He hated giving any important tasks to the ones that surrounded him, all to not present himself as lazy or incompetent - after all, this is what killed his predecessor, President Ravinstill, who had decided to almost gift control over Panem to Dr Gaul all because of her project’s success during the Dark Days time.
Coriolanus had always found it so ridiculous that he even allowed that to happen - if he was ever in Ravinstill’s shoes and had someone like Dr Gaul in his administration, he would have smiled politely, thrown some medal in her face, and then sent her as far away in a lab to do her crazy experiments with bare minimum financing as humanly possible.
Yet, swallowing down the scare he still felt for the mad woman despite her long turning into a skeleton, President Snow also felt grateful for Dr Volumnia Gaul - aside from one particular person, she was the one who had set him straight, helped to stabilize and learn how to acquire even more power for herself.
Coriolanus did not try to disobey her careful teachings and despite that stopping him marrying Lucy Gray was not in her power, the rest of those decisions were on him.
A pity that she died of old age. Truly, truly miserable and not at all a glorious way of leaving this Earth.
Alongside a Gamemaker problem, Panem’s faraway places had an acting out problem. This couldn’t be called a ‘rebellion’, or even riots - every other district had a division of Peacekeepers holding them together, excluding the two who pledged their loyalty to the Capitol. And every other district was fine, except for some reason District 10, which this year had the biggest amount of public whippings.
Looking from the outside, they were to be this year’s ‘District example’ for the whole Panem to see - lucky he doesn’t have to come up with stories for every Hunger Games, otherwise, the man’s head would have exploded a long time ago. When he added small bits to a pile of papers lying next to him on the table, the office’s door suddenly creaked, forcing Coriolanus to raise his head away from the statistics.
“...As far as I remember, I always asked you to knock,” Snow said with a bit of pressure in his dry voice, looking straight at Lucy Gray, who was now standing in the doorway, hand leaning on the wall, in a dark violet elegant dress, which his eyes were devouring with pleasure; indeed, whatever she put on herself, it suited her perfectly.
“Then lock your door if you wouldn’t like any intruders,” she said with coldness in return, folded her hands, and a smile slowly crawled on her face, knowing what actually went down with Festus yesterday evening, as if saying: "Here are your Hunger Games, Coriolanus. Enjoy."
The President of Panem didn't like it, but he decided to wait: after all, only two days had passed since Lucy Gray, who without a clear reason why, decided to spend the night at their house - and so far, two days were a record for her for this whole year.
"Need to be softer. Just not to scare..." The man thought, trying not to frown after another sip of water with lemon and salt. He put the glass aside and tilted his head as if scanning his woman from head to toe; Lucy Gray was quick to mimic all of his movements.
“Did you come here to celebrate your small victory?”
“Of course not, Coriolanus - I won nothing, so it doesn’t call for a celebration, at least not in the way we are used to this word,” she slightly smiled, not showing signs of pleasantries in front of him. “I'm just glad that at least for one day, the luck of the universe is indeed on my side - deserve it after my hard labor, don’t you think?” She proudly raised her head, crossing her graceful hands.
“Don't even think that I'll give up so easily. You understand me, don't you?”
To his surprise, Lucy Gray moved away from the wall and quickly crossed his office, while her slippers made funny sounds when touched by the parquet. Coriolanus himself got up from the table and stood in front of his wife.
If someone had entered through the door now, firstly, that moron would have been shot on the spot, and secondly, he would have taken the Snows as enemies, not as a once loving couple with a bond that no breathing creature walking on this ground could have grasped.
"Although it is unknown what we have been all these damn 9 years..." Coriolanus gritted his teeth, looking into his wife's eyes, the color of the night sky.
“...Have you decided to finally resume your torture of me through the Districts? And are you actually this delusional to believe that after those Games’ continuing, I will fall back into your arms?” Lucy Gray lowered her head a little. “And yes, I'm very interested in seeing how you're going to hold your favorite livestock without the chief butcher.”
Coriolanus took another step forward and mockingly kissed his wife's hand, enjoying the warmth of her palm inside.
“Games, Games, Games. That is all you can even talk about, making me out as some sort of monster. Yet you knew who you were getting involved with. Don't pretend to be so innocent - you knew what I wanted, you knew what I was planning.”
"Liar..." Now he was, indeed, shamelessly lying to her.
More than a decade had passed, and Lucy Gray still hasn't forgotten his promise when he almost swore that he would cancel the Hunger Games and everything related to it. And in the end, what? ...But it was useless to tell him that.
Coriolanus knew he had deceived her. I knew she wouldn't forgive him, but he wasn't one of those who left things halfway.
If he threw anything in his life at all. He didn't leave her, after all.
Although he could have.
“Now is the time to cancel everything, you can't think of a better opportunity than this - you can just say that the respected Gamemaker left his post, closing the 'show' forever,” swallowing, Lucy Gray herself takes a step forward, remembering the night when she followed his deep-hidden whims, called him "Coryo" for the first time in the last three years and took him by the hand. Snow squeezed it in response.
He could see that her demonstrative tenderness now is just a mask with which she hopes to appease him. Well... Some could say it had worked.
Of course, she is a brilliant actress and this is another of thousands of reasons why he loved her. He saw through her deception, a false expression on her face depicting grieving innocence; he knew everything about her.
"I'll find a way to deal with this year’s Games and make sure to spend time with my family. Maybe we can find the time and go on a very small vacation? All four of us, like we used to," he stroked her hand with his thumb, stopping at the copper engagement ring from time to time.
“This time is not a round date,” Lucy Gray did not react to these words of the President of Panem, but the blood in her body began to flow through the veins more slowly, as if she was standing in forty-degree freezing weather.
“And when was it round? She raised her head and locked her furious stare into his eyes. “Two years ago, when you and your brilliant Gamemaker decided on the Districts choosing their tributes themselves as a "twist" for the Reaping?”
Oh yes. Festus was incredibly proud of the Games that the president came up with the name 'Quarter Quell’- and indeed, he organized it brilliantly; there were no 'surprises' and at the final showdown, the most worthy won, which made Snow very happy, as he could never stand seeing some lucky loser win by chance, that happened more often than he could have imagined.
It reminded him of his past when he was forced to bow down and crawl at everyone’s feet, all while being five times better than all of those rich brats and old politicians combined, and now, he will not allow anyone to take even a crumb from his master’s table if this person did not deserve it.
And he truly hoped that his Lucy Gray would understand him...
The woman felt his wrapping, firm hand on her shoulder, which reminded her of a poisonous snake, and took a step back, although his hand remained where it was.
“I did not agree to mass executions. Remove them, I would have returned to you, but you decided like this," the woman began to hiss through gulps of pain when it was not the time of tears: this hiss sounded cold and detached as if she was passing all her words addressed to Coriolanus through a container of ice water.
“But you accepted Mayfair's death, didn't you? And what about Billy Taupe? Sejanus?”
“Don't you even dare to compare all of this; three people, one of whom personally sent me to death over nothing while I was a child, and 192? Since that's how many innocent children died under the wing of your glorious presidency!”
To these accusations, Coriolanus could only recall one old, wise quote from a history textbook, which he read back in the Academy:
"Kill one man and you are a murderer, kill a hundred and you are a warlord, kill a thousand and you are a king."
Despite there being no such thing as ‘king’ for many years, with the term disappearing from use along with its carriers’ history, Coriolanus Snow still abided by it - he did not want to be an aimless killer like these savages from the Districts, he was never wasteful.
He never killed personally, he did it only when it was necessary and all this was for the sake of a great goal.
"And first of all, I do it for them," Lucy Gray looked into his crystal eyes and bitterly swallowed, understanding all of her 200 mistakes.
This conversation could have taken place three, four, seven, or hell, all nine years ago. But she ran away from him and while it seemed that she was still here, it was not true: there was only her body in this Palace, while the soul was either deep underground or with her students on the stage.
She didn't talk to him even when she could, but now nothing could be changed - Coriolanus was standing in front of her now, cold and inside, fumingly angry. Her heart twitched into a lump when she tried with all her might to keep her calm expression as if she didn't care about him.
The worst thing that she despised herself for was that she did care. She indeed wanted to return everything to normal, or rather like it was way before the unavoidable fallout. Yet at the same time, the First Lady of Panem could not step away now – that would have meant that she gave up fighting for her people. Lucy Gray had already sacrificed both her mental state and her relationship with her husband, fracturing the bond she had with her kids, and all because of her anger at the Capitol.
Yes, she was not delusional and knew that Coriolanus could never survive in Twelve unlike her in the Capitol, yet it never meant that she accepted the rules of the game. Relaxing with each breath in the President’s arms, once a simple singer, now a caged bird, started to slowly grasp the situation. Those Games were not organized to torment her – they were simply for the reason of unity, the fact that Coriolanus wanted to bring her closer to his politics.
But now?
"I finally realized what you had always wanted from me, and honestly want from me now, even if you hide it as much as you want. You deceived me once and you think I'll accept the changed rules of the game for nothing?"
“...What are you going to do? If you don't appoint a new Gamemaker soon, there will be a scandal. You will lose either way, it is indeed that easy to cancel.”
Snow wrapped his palm around her head and pressed it to his heart - exactly as he did every time, as soon as the crying silhouette began to break into his realm of dreams.
“I will think of something,” he cut the conversation coldly. "But the Games will be happening, they are necessary. These are not even murders, they are just a precaution against riots - anyone who sympathizes with them in the eyes has not seen them, unlike me. I saw the animal rage with which they pounced on me then in the Arena, when I did nothing to them and I was forcibly thrown there to get Sejanus, since apparently, my life mattered less than his. Do you remember yourself ? How afraid you were while fighting for your life. Give them military weapons and they'll tear my Panem to shreds."
Oh right. Here comes his favorite mantra about animals - so who was she then, a rabid dog?
“Then… What about Philo?” The woman was not willing to drop the subject. “I'm sure she won't be very thrilled with this decision.”
“Oh, I beg you, try something different next time - Philomel likes the TV! I asked her about filming on camera and being the center of attention since childhood and she never complained, remember?”
Lucy Gray finally lowered her head in a very clear defeat. She has long understood that Coriolanus is not the person who will be changed by affection and a couple of gentle words. Even bottomless love is not enough for him: he is more likely to take all this love without a trace while climbing into the place beside the clouds.
Coriolanus Snow was a black hole - no matter how much it sucks, it will never be enough for it. He will also never have to choose between it and the authorities: he will just take both.
Now, thanks to her carelessness and inability to control the only thing in this scorned city that was within her reach, the kids that she swore to protect were in danger. Now, she had crossed many lines and he might as well bring a punishment for this - obviously not the Rainbow Kids themselves, since they were way too noticeable, too bright and shiny.
But who said that the ones inside the District walls were safe from his wrath? The families, the innocents. Exactly what Mayor Lipp did to the Covey, all to get back at the “brat who killed his precious daughter”. This piece of District history cannot repeat itself.
Inhale, exhale.
She looks at Snow again and sees everything; his deep inner pain, a light hangover that he dealt with reasonably well despite her personally knowing how much he usually drank, genuine hunger for her touch, and how his hand trembles a little as soon as he brushed through one of her curls.
Lucy Gray didn't want to do it at all, but Coriolanus left her no other choice - it was time to turn on the same tricks she used at a young age, trying to shake out an extra coin from the visitors of the Hob.
"Come on Lucy Gray, you can handle it. You can do it."
“Did you want me to stay with you, despite all the horror you created? Since we signed the blood contract with our lives together, shall we follow it to the end?” She deliberately lowered her lips and made her eyes a little more rounded, which gave her a more innocent look.
Carefully, Snow studied every inch of her body, of her face and her lips, as if trying to find any smallest similarities between what he saw now and what he saw at the train station more than a decade ago, now he felt very young again, inexperienced, in love.
Yes. Yes.
Snow’s voice was close to breaking down, but all that came out was just a quiet nod of his head. How many years he tried to get understanding and acceptance from his Lucy Gray: he felt that he was slowly going crazy.
His promise about these idiotic Games was necessary - Lucy Gray was necessary for him.
Coriolanus promised to provide for her and their children, to bury his beautiful shining rainbow in gold - achieving the highest status one could imagine, Coriolanus fulfilled that promise. Now it was Lucy Gray’s turn to stick to hers.
And no matter how many corpses collapse on the way to their castle in the air - he could even trample on them without a care in the world, as long as his family remains at the very top, and she stays next to him.
Snow slowly took her by the chin, his eyes showing a flicker of raw, genuine emotion that could have told every page of his history book: it was immediately clear what he wanted, and Lucy Gray was happy to play for his desires.
Their lips touch, and Coriolanus feels his always freezing hands heat up from the temperature of her body as soon as his fingers brush through the rose petals of her shoulders and neck.
It was painful to kiss him again - her heart hurts, and the woman feels like a traitor, terrible, vile; as if she really accepts this kind of thing, and not just puts dust in his eyes.
"Never, you hear me. I will never forgive you for these Hunger Games..."
President Snow was known as someone not bending to anyone’s whims when aquiring his position - the groweling, desperate Coryo, who wore shirts with holes in them and surviving on watered down soups was long gone. No, he would make sure that the whole Panem would fall to his feet, only considering him as their eternal idol.
Yet while the intimidating figure behind the shiny tribune in a blood-red suit was the symbol and owner of all citizens of the country, he himself was close to praying to one person. Holding Lucy Gray in his arms, he could not comprehend how and why he ever allowed a woman to take so much power in those sweet, sweet warm hands, yet he found ways to deal with it.
The couple named by the piece of the coldest season loved ruining each other - their hearts and souls were mutually torn apart, all while it never stopped them from drowning in the pain and sorrow of their kisses, as blood was running down their chins. The 10th Hunger Games tied them together forever, all while the events after their failed escape from Twelve cemented it; there was no other in this world who would have understood one another as much as this couple of Panem did.
Danger, excitement, pain, sorrow, and adrenaline - that woman was giving him all of this and even more, with him failing miserably every time at his attempt to turn her into a proper Capitolite lady, but he did not need that anymore. The way her hands moved over his face and shoulders, kissing him in all of his favorite places, it was evident that the beautiful songbird was indeed tainted by a stroke of a snake’s poison. She didn’t want to love him anymore? Well, he would make her love him back, to see him yet again as the lovestruck Capitol boy with a white rose in his hand and golden locks... For now - then she could learn on how to accept the current reality, his actual side.
Lucy Gray was the President’s idol - she was the only ‘god’ he knew and despite never believing in gods before, he still wanted to kneel down in front of this majestic figure covered in sunflowers, kissing her feet all while returning the memories of every curve in her flawless, small body.
He had her love. He needed her love. All while Lucy Gray could have never allowed herself to love him - she cannot love him again, he took way too much; from her and from the whole Panem.
Yet would take more, should his love be cut off from him with no return – Lucy Gray Snow was not a bridge, she was a small white streak, that was as beautiful to look at, as fragile to any outside cut. Yet even a streak can make skin bleed should it cut deeply enough.
Later in the evening, Coriolanus found Lucy Gray curled up in a ball, in a bed from one of the guest rooms, which had long served as her bedroom, as soon as she was inside her gilded cage.
Snow did not leave that room for a long time, as if being afraid that as soon as he turned his head away, Lucy Gray would vanish, proving all of that was nothing but a pipe dream; gently held her hand, and she looked at him with a hollow, yet somewhat sweet twinkle of her eyes, sweeter than anything else that he saw for those 9 years.
As Lucy Gray was trying to look more convincing, did not immediately allow him everything that she would have easily allowed ten years ago.
But her hand still rested on his knees while she quietly hummed a sad melody under her breath: it was somewhat reminiscent of the song of a nightingale, whose heart was broken to pieces; all while Coriolanus desperately tried to glue them together, not paying attention to the terrible holes in a once perfect picture.
“You are not going anywhere tomorrow, right?”
"Not today, nor tomorrow, nor the day after tomorrow, Coryo. I'll be here, next to you. Watch you and move your hand away from the Districts as much as I can.”
While one may call her cruel for ‘toying’ with the emotions of a dangerous man, who held his heart out on a plate to consume in front of her, it would still be a wild assumption to make that Lucy Gray had become exactly like him - even the poison was just a method of weakening the President down.
He is a poison. She's just a rat, who foolishly tried it and now running around the world with intoxicated fangs, biting anyone who could have tried harming her.
Yet what happens when you kill a rat? Your food is still not safe and your pinky still can catch that bite infection - just another rat will take the previous one’s place. Coriolanus was not the biggest problem - the problem was the system as a whole, which was still supported by his cruelty and sternness, stopping at nothing to suck the Districts out of every piece of resources that they possessed; all of this was “supposed” to belong to the Capitol.
“…No... Coryo. I'll stay here,” the woman replied softly, laying down on his knees and looking at the ceiling of a castle she would have never dreamt of living in; oh, how better it could have been if she hadn’t!
Coriolanus held onto one of her big, wild curls, stroking every piece of hair on it, while Lucy Gray was given a soft napkin that smelled of delicate roses, and she couldn’t get her nose out of it, remembering this smell as the only thing capable of making her sleep while she counted days before her inevitable demise.
What a clueless idiot she was. Now. She was only trying now and he knew why. What stopped her from changing those long-exhausted tactics of rage in her face a few years ago? After all it should have been common knowledge that Snow has always been more negotiating should he receive softness and loving caresses from her in return.
And leaving the woman in a small, but still tastefully furnished room, Snow quietly closed the door when Lucy Gray nodded quietly and affirmatively, later pretending to have fallen asleep but in truth was staring blankly at the wall, feeling as if she was just given a triple dose of morphling. The First Lady was completely out of it, not understanding what exactly she just did - aw, it would be so easy to play a fool or a martyr who put herself up as a sacrificial lamb for the President. Yet where did lies stop and real feelings start?
This is what she could never be courageous enough to answer.
Coriolanus left his wife's room in a relaxed mood: the Hunger Games must be dealt with quickly and in such matters, even insomnia was not his friend, but on the contrary, his biggest enemy. He definitely needs to get a good night's sleep once in a lifetime - now he couldn’t lose control over his tongue in front of Lucy Gray tomorrow and then blame it all on feeling unwell.
Locking himself in the bathroom, leaning over the sink, and coughing, the President looked at the medicine in the small cabinet with nothing but contempt.
Sometimes he felt ashamed of taking them - a couple of those pills and obvious alarm bells that something was wrong with the body would begin going off. But now he just couldn't refuse - nothing worked, even valerian, only if he didn't pour the whole bottle into the tea. A red and white insomnia pill with powder inside unpleasantly scratches the throat, but he does not pay attention to such trifles.
Now, he had only one thing almost completely overtaken his mind.
"Lucy Gray can come back - at least she understood me, finally. There is a chance: we can still fix everything, as we always did," Snow considered himself a fool for really believing that she, his one of a kind love, could completely change from that day he met her near the train.
The stupid spirit of rebellion was always in her, but everything else outweighed this tiny flaw so much that he had a deep hidden desire to simply put a blindfold over his eyes. The image of that kiss still didn't come out of his head: of course, he knew that he was missing her like a piece of air, but could not imagine just how deeply rooted those feelings were!
Washing his face with scorchingly icy water for the last time, he looked in the mirror - the President of Panem still looked frighteningly young, although he did not ever allow the knife to touch his face in his life. Well... Except there, on the left side, where there used to be a now invisible scar almost all over the cheek, left by the nails of a raging woman nine years ago.
His hair was somewhat messy both from the water and the uncounted amounts of time that Lucy Gray ruffled them as if they were recently married children again. Coriolanus knew it, he enjoyed it and it was the first time after their talk that he did not want to drown himself in alcohol.
"Okay, now all of those injuries and pain are in the past. And now, she is seemingly ready to correct her little mistake. Snow lands on top."
He could give her a chance to fix everything back and this nightmare with endless runaways will end. And in return, he would consider freeing those year’s games from the secret twist that no one, even Lucy Gray knew about - at the office, he took a stack of papers, not burning them, yet putting it at the furthest corner of his bookcase.
Coriolanus Snow’s eyes had been ice cold for many years - the affection his wife gave him today was the first tiny step to erase the borders. He could live up to at least one silent promise that was made in that room. Of course, he was skeptical - Lucy Gray was the rainbow of destruction, the performer, and trusting her could be a mistake.
But they both were tied together, stuck in this loop of pain and love, leaving which could amount either of them to nothing but dust.
And in the cold bed, the President of Panem had managed to return to the land of dreams after the long, dreading days of insomnia hitting him - he had refused to believe that he failed, that Dean Highbottom was right. This medicine was worth it, he needed to take it again to heal from those issues; Lucy Gray hated his insomnia because he always worked during those hours, so that could be another way to show her that he was moving in the right direction.
Everything will be fine.
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Sixteen years ago
“No... No, no more.”
“Stop, shut up. Don't blame me, Sejanus, please. It’s not my fault, you did that all to yourself...”
For about ten minutes, slumbering Coriolanus was shaking his head, being completely out of touch with his penthouse on Corso, throwing on the bed and clumping the blanket under him, like during a fever episode.
“I'm not to blame... I pleaded with you, I tried to save you…”
Without opening his eyes, he began to whine for a long time, tears rolled down his face, and his legs began to twitch uncontrollably by themselves, beating the air and several times, hitting a small body sleeping next to him.
It seemed that another kick of the former Peacekeeper and it would be enough for Lucy Gray, who really tried to be patient, to fly to the other end of the room. And she just ran out of its remains, being already tired of holding her hands to her ears, while squinting.
"Sorry, hun."
The young man flew up like a bullet after he felt incomprehensible tremors on his face, which the body began to perceive as blows. Hurting.
Screaming and grabbing his head, not being able to fully leave the grasp of nightmares, Snow got up and crawled back to the pillow, pressing his whole cold body against the wall, trying to breathe.
Drops of sweat flowed down his cheeks, while as if locked behind seven metal doors, a faint female scream was trying to reach him.
When the scared man barely moved his lips, while coming up with three-digit numbers in his mind, trying to calm down, the voice behind became louder and louder, further calming down enough to make sense of the blur of words directed to him:
“Coryo! Coryo!” Lucy Gray yelled, still not letting go of the pillow, with which she had to "wake up" her husband a couple of times, hitting him on the head.
Finally, she felt the switch of a nearby lamp, and with turning it on, Snow's terrified face with wide-open bright blue eyes, who began to frown from the sudden light, appeared before her in all its frightened beauty.
She quickly threw the pillow aside and carefully hugged him, but Coriolanus, trying to regain his breath in the shortest possible time, turned away from his young wife with shame on his face.
“Damn,” he grabbed his splitting head, trying to throw off the remnants of his sleep and suppressing more upcoming whimpers. “Lucy Gray, please forgive me... Did I wake you up again?”
The girl shook her head, but without an answer, it was clear that it was "yes". She put her hand on his big palm, gently drawing patterns on it with her dark fingers, but the shieving man didn't even turn to her, while always being brave to face the big name politicians who were at least 10 years senior to him.
“It’s okay, that's it, Coryo, shhh, quieter. It was just another bad nightmare, calm down… I’m here, you are safe.”
Whispering, leaning onto his cold body, Lucy Gray pulled out a crumpled blanket from under him and covered her husband with it. The river of shame crashed into his mind when Coriolanus realized that because of him, Lucy Gray was left without a blanket and slammed himself on the forehead loudly.
“Again... Him again. Forgive me, I beg you…” Snow hated his own body, which was completely within his control while he tried sleeping: for the same reason, he could not, despite the fact that Tigris tried to prove to him that it was not necessary, refuse a regular dose of valerian in the evenings or chamomile tea.
But the problem is, the tea stopped working a long time ago and the medicine supply just ran out yesterday, without the extra money laying around for the Snow family to afford it - every extra coin was obliged to pay taxes at home for a month.
Plinths be Plinths, and while they could buy his own house for him as many times as they wanted, Snow was not going to sit on their neck, so he plowed at his work like he was truly obsessed. Yet while he was successful in this on the outside, one mind could never guess what was going on inside his head.
"Shame on me. I can't even sleep without valerian normally one unfortunate night, so as not to hear Sejanus’ plaintive bleating. May he be damned," he had already gotten out of bed, yet the songbird stopped him, quickly grabbing his hand in the air.
“Lucy Gray, let me sleep on the couch today... I'm just getting in the way here, as always," he muttered, keeping ahold of on to his head, holding back moans of pain.
"I'm so sick of you, Sejanus. Why didn't you just disappear? Why do you keep chasing me even when I swore to you that I was innocent? Stop blaming me for your death - you climbed into the rope one, second, fifth, tenth time!" Snow could barely restrain himself from swearing like a shoemaker, yet the discipline training in Twelve he had received as a Peacekeeper luckily did not go in vain.
“You will not sleep in this icy, unheated room - I will not allow you to lie down all over your back or get a cold,” with some pressure in her voice, Lucy Gray continued to squeeze his hand tightly; Coryo tried to jerk for the last time, but still the nightmare did take not over his mind completely, so internally, he agreed with her.
For some time sitting motionless on the edge of the bed, Snow didn't say anything, but Lucy Gray did not need words - she understood everything just by looking at him.
Kneeling on the mattress, she wrapped her hot hands around his icy body from behind and lovingly put her head on his shoulder, as her skin brushed against his.
“He was there again... Sejanus? You repeated his name over and over.”
Of course, he would rat himself out in the most idiotic way possible. There was nothing to hide, and there was no point in lying - and why was he always such a babbler in his sleep?
“He just appeared out of nowhere, not ceasing his irritating, painful howling - about how I killed him, how it was me who betrayed him…” For Snow, every such word of truth was as if he was stabbed with a knife. “But it wasn't even me who was doing the hanging, I just pressed the record button, so why am I to blame? …Right?”
He fell silent, waiting and hoping that Lucy Gray would say that it was not his fault, that everything would be fine, but she was silent. The girl sighed.
Sejanus Plinth - undoubtedly one of the most ridiculous and at the same time terrible tragedies of the bloodthirsty 10th Hunger Games. Died so young, died so stupidly.
Lucy Gray could say she barely knew him, but what she saw and what she heard from Plinths were only gentle and kind words towards the dead young man, and she was the only keeper of the secret of his death.
In actuality, she was grateful for her beloved’s honesty that fateful day, in the forest. When he, while she asked the most out of place, dangerous question, told her everything: about the jabberjay, about Sejanus, and about the fact that it was not the first time when this sweet, but naive idiot signed his death warrant. Yet still, something felt… Wrong.
For some time she tried to calm herself down, to say the same as Coriolanus: that they are innocent, that all this is just an accident. But she could not help but admit that she still felt sorry for poor, foolish yet well-intentioned Sejanus.
However, this train of pity has already left. Now they were here, alone, with the blood of young Plinth on their hands - she was an accomplice in a crime and willingly took on such a sin, sharing this pitch black fate with Coryo. Lucy Gray accepted it when they left Twelve. Listening to his heartbeat, which always became faster when he didn’t get an answer, the singer’s hand got into his hair and began gently going through it.
She exhaled for the second time and a smile appeared on her previously disturbed face, while she quietly hummed a melody under her breath without words, nuzzling her warm cheek against his cold shoulder, as if it was made out of glass. Yesterday he was the one doing that for her - when she woke up screaming after seeing Coral’s trident piercing her neck, he held her in his safe arms until the first pinkish glimpses of the sunrise appeared in the clouds.
She was a wailing mess, and no matter how much she tried acting tough after the Games, all of her subtle ‘bragging’ about being a Victor ended at first sight of the Arena and memories of rabid Jessup, who never even got a proper burial aside from what Reaper has given him.
Snow was ashamed to accept her pity, and even more so her gentle but naive attempts to calm him down, because no fool understands: Sejanus will not leave him for a long time, not allowing even one dream of Snow to be joyful.
Yet, while battling with his fragile mind, he was listening to Lucy Gray's tender voice and thanks to it, felt more air entering his chest with each sung note, making his stupid head not ever think about leaving the room.
"My precious, wonderful Lucy Gray... What would I do without you?"
He knew the answer right away: he probably drank himself to death. Or worse, turned to morphling like Highbottom, may he be damned.
Coriolanus was sure that if that had happened, the dean-torturer and Sejanus would have laughed at him from their new 'heavenly' dwelling. No, he couldn’t do it, he had to survive - otherwise, what was the point?
“Forgive me, dear,” Snow finally found the strength to smile and in gratitude, kissed his wife on the forehead. His smile was almost hysterical when he looked at Lucy Gray through his eyes swollen with tears - Coryo took her small face with both his light palms and she returned this gesture to him.
“Don't apologize, please.”
“I swear I won't cry and scream anymore, I don't want you to remember me as such a pathetic moron who can’t control himself,” he said with tenderness and a crumb of shame while enjoying the warmth of her cheeks.
Lucy Gray did not consider tears to be something unworthy or shameful: on the contrary, she liked to comfort him. This always made her feel like she was one of the few to whom his 'human' side was discovered, behind the shell of the ideal man that Coriolanus Snow had already begun to craft for himself.
And he was crazy over her for that.
"Oh my God, how lucky I am. How lucky that I brought you here," he was proud and admired himself for defending his right to marry for love, although still recalled on he was once summoned by the mother of his easily most despised former classmate Livia Cardew, offering his daughter as a candidate for marriage to him, and then proceeded to huff and puff like a locomotive when she, oh so great and powerful, was rejected.
No, no money would be ever worth it going through that!
And really, would Livia, always as cold as ice, ever comfort him in the same way, sing songs to him, generously sharing his grief with him? No.
Certainly not - this spoiled, selfish brat could only think about herself and for sure will be rather laughing at Snow and his tears. Meanwhile, the warmth and purity of Lucy Gray's soul knew no bounds; she had enough love for everyone, but first of all, this love belonged to him, Coriolanus Snow.
“Thank you,” he hugged her, this time smiling sincerely as her magic began working.
“What for? We agreed that we would protect each other's dreams, remember?” Lucy Gray slightly grinned on his shoulder. “We promised each other, so here I am - also didn’t you help me yesterday? The… The Arena dream.”
“Well, at least you're not as noisy as me,” Coriolanus said through a tiny smile, admitting that Lucy Gray was right. The man loved to feel like someone who was sharpened to be her protector, loved when he was needed and trusted.
He remembered how he calmed her down in the same way - this was the sign of their special connection, their sincere unity.
Then suddenly, such a gentle moment of the couple was interrupted, when the door of their bedroom opened and the head of Tigris appeared from there, holding a lamp in her stretched out hand.
“Oh my! Are you both alright? I heard screams - I swear, you two can wake up the dead by how loud you are sometimes… Oh, poor Grandm’am.”
Coriolanus let his wife go, pursing his lips from having his privacy violated so horrifically and during such a tense fraction of their life.
“I… Come on, Tigris, how many times have I told you to knock?! What if we were…” Snow was stopped in the middle of his annoyed tirade by Lucy Gray, who put her hand on his shoulder, causing him to breathe out. His cousin just chuckled, looking around the young couple and coming closer to them.
“What, nightmares again? That stupid Arena, I am so sorry…”
The man nodded - he is unlikely to be able to go to bed again now, and even if so, he will not avoid a new meeting with the ubiquitous Plinth.
"I don't want to. Leave me alone, moron," he cursed to himself, tightly squeezing Lucy Gray's palm. Tigris was touched by this scene; next to this beautiful and open-hearted singer who had life pouring out of every single part of her body, he seemed to bloom again, with happiness finally visiting his face after so many years spent close to misery.
The young, slender woman in funny warm pajamas which made her figure square, picked up a folded shirt from the chair with a laugh and threw it in her cousin's face. Both Snows smiled slightly and Lucy Gray once again noticed how similar they were.
“Get dressed, you two, I'll make you some tea,” Tigris offered Lucy Gray a hand, and the smile of both became wider; from the very first meeting, the girls liked each other, to the great happiness of young Snow and to his grandmother’s dissatisfaction.
Two girls almost pulled Coryo out of bed and quietly laughed at their own reaction to nightmares, while he, having finally recovered and returned to his usual mood, carefully took the blanket and covered Lucy Gray's shoulders with it, kissing his love on the cheek.
All three clasped each other's hands and headed for the cold kitchen, through the same cold corridor; Lucy Gray and Coriolanus looked at each other, as if merging into one whole, while they had a whole secret room with skeletons inside.
Tigris, walking next to them was laughing at her cousin and whispering stories that he always got frightened by bad dreams, even since childhood, and had to sit with him at night, to his giant dismay, was in happy ignorance of the true cause of Coryo's restless sleep.
Sejanus, his personal curse, was a mystery intended for Lucy Gray alone. When Snow honestly admitted it, she, under his eye, personally pierced her finger and signed on the parchment of Plinth’s death with her own blood, with her signature proudly being next to his.
It was their fate and they had long accepted it together.