Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Coriolanus could sense a change with Lucy Gray. 

It wasn’t something he could outwardly describe; she still smiled at him with doe eyes, still teased him without fear of his reaction, and still sang and hummed to her own songs as they walked.

But there was something in her eyes. 

He’d see it, whenever she thought he wasn’t looking. It would be a brief glance, a quick double-check, a shadow of something that passed beneath her gaze.

It wasn’t fear. No; he’d seen fear in the eyes of those around him, he knew it well. He knew what fear looked like on Lucy Gray too…and this wasn’t it.

It was something that plagued his mind, something that enterally bothered him as he tried to figure out exactly what it was.

All he knew was that whatever that look in her eyes was, it meant nothing good for him.

Lucy Gray was not dumb or docile. She was rebellious, daring, and most of all cunning.

They’d always been, roughly, on the same side.

Coriolanus almost shuddered to think of what may happen if they were enemies.

But he brushed that idea away as quickly as it appeared; it was absurd, right?

Right.

XXX

They walked for three days without much incident; Snow had never truly thought about how vast and wide the Districts were, as compared to the Capitol, which was a bit of a walk but could be traversed in just one day.

They walked without seeing a single soul in all that time.

Lucy Gray kept them fed by digging up roots of plants that were edible, peeling the bark of trees, picking berries in her palm, or making snares at night for rabbits or birds. 

Coriolanus tried to listen as she explained it to him, but found it all dreadfully dull. He was smart enough to know that food did not just magically pop out of nowhere, but it was all so savage here.

He longed for the Capitol.

That was the worst of it; all this silence gave Coriolanus ample time to think.

To think about his rightful place in the Academy that had been stolen from him, to think about how his Grandmaam and Tigris were fairing, to think about his classmates that would whisper about him for a year or two before he slipped from their collective minds.

The once great name of Snow would now be a footnote in history, a laughing stock of future game makers, and a cautionary tale that Highbottom would gleefully pass along every chance he got. 

If you go back, and someone has found that gun, you’ll be dead.

This was his mantra.

He repeated it to himself, over, and over, and over.

And every night, he dreamed that he could go back, find the gun, and leave to be an Officer. 

Upon waking, he was never sure if it was a nightmare or not. 

At least Lucy Gray was still here.

The only thing worse than everything currently occurring would be here alone.

She’d seen him kill the mayor’s daughter, and she still agreed to go with him.

In his mind, this had to mean something.

Love; that’s what it was. 

He knew of love in the academic sense. He’d witnessed it, or heard of it.

He knew of love from family. He loved Tigris and Grandmaam and the thought of them out of their apartment, stressing to make ends meet, made his heart constrict heavily.

He also remembered, vaguely, his parents. From long, long, before.

His father was a strict man, but he loved his wife.

Her death had broken him.

No, that’s what Coriolanus remembered most about love. About how it had cut his father down from a proud man to a crying, weeping shell until he’d picked himself back up and gone to his death.

Coriolanus wasn’t sure he liked the idea of being so open that something like that may ever befall him.

It was fine for Lucy Gray to love him. It was even expected. 

But do you love her? 

Coriolanus didn’t see the logic in answering that question. 

XXX

On the fifth day, Coriolanus figured out what that look in her eyes was.

It was the bitter taste of the truth.

She hadn’t bought his lie about his third death. While he did genuinely feel like he’d been killed and reborn too many times to count, he wouldn’t ever seriously add it to his grave number. 

He hoped she would take his word as gospel, but she hadn’t.

She was looking at him like she was already thinking three steps ahead of him, trying to figure out what to do next.

She hadn’t poisoned him so far, nor smothered him in his sleep, left him alone in the middle of the night.

But that didn’t mean that he was safe from her.

It was the same way she looked in the arena; hungry, desperate, and determined. 

Coriolanus was her next great summit to survive and she was trying to figure out the perfect way to do so, and that might just spell his death.

Resentment began to fester deep in his chest.

After everything he’d done for her? Keeping her safe? Passing off his last spare change to get to twelve? Giving up his whole life and walking across these fucking never-ending woods? 

The indignation flared like a fire as Coriolanus sat by their fire that night, furious and shaking with rage.

She could take almost everything from him, but she would not take his life.

He’d deal with her in the morning, he told himself.

She wouldn’t see it coming.

XXX

Coriolanus woke with pressure holding him down and a knife against his throat, pressing enough to feel the slide of silver against his jugular. 

Lucy Gray stared down at him, chin raised, and eyes burning. 

“What are you doing?” He demanded, trying to struggle her off, but with a slight movement of her body slipped the knife. He felt it knick his skin. 

“Who was the third person?” Lucy Gray demanded, harsh and unforgiving. 

“That’s what this is about?” He snarled, “Are you fucking insane?” 

“Answer me,” She said, leaning in, pressing it farther against him, “Or I’ll kill you.” 

“You won’t,” Snow said, “You said you were done with killing.” 

“I thought I was.” 

Coriolanus’s throat was dry, “Why does it even matter?” 

“Because we’re in this together, and I need to trust you. I may not like you anymore, I may be very aware of who you really are, but despite it all, I need to trust you.” She spoke each word very carefully, “So don’t lie.” 

“And why shouldn’t I just turn around and kill you after this?” Coriolanus sneered, “For being so bold to try to threaten me?” 

“Out here, you’re just a nobody lyin’ in the dirt,” Lucy Gray said with a hint of a smile. She dropped the knife, “But go ahead.” 

She stood, smoothing her dress, dropping the knife.

What a foolish move.

Coriolanus was standing immediately, pushing her to the ground, straddling her waist. His hands went for her neck, grasping it enough so that Lucy Gray coughed and sputtered. 

“I will kill you,” He said, entirely sure of it, “And no one will ever know what became of you.” 

“Go ahead,” Lucy Gray managed to spit, her face blushing as he pressed more, and more, reveling in the feeling of the blood pumping underneath his fingers, and how it began to slow. 

Wait…why wasn’t she crying, or begging? 

Coriolanus dropped his hands.

“That’s right,” Lucy Gray cooed, “You can’t. Here’s the thing, Coriolanus. We need each other.” 

Coriolanus huffed at the thought of it. He may need to be dependent on someone, and especially someone like her.

“It’s true,” She said, rubbing her neck, “I’ve been watching you, Coriolanus. I know that while you have a great many skills, survival isn’t one of them. You kill me, I bet you starve out in three days.” 

Coriolanus paused, narrowing his eyes.

“But I don’t have your silver tongue; you can make anyone believe anything. It’s like magic. And it’s dangerous for a girl to be travelin’ alone. So it seems we’re at an impasse. And we need each other. Alive.” Lucy Gray finished, “So tell me…who is the third person you killed.” 

Coriolanus sat back on his haunches, staring at Lucy Gray with unmitigated hatred in his eyes. 

“Oh, baby,” She crooned, almost melodically, “Don’t be angry you’ve met your match. Besides, love doesn’t look natural on you anyway.” 

Coriolanus ran through every scenario as fast as he could; killing Lucy Gray, going home, going north still, staying on the same path…and all roads led to needing her survival skills. They could be weeks from any sort of civilization. 

He thought about lying, but he figured Lucy Gray knew his number by now. 

“Sejanus. I made sure that the people that matter know about his plans.” He answered evenly, eyes narrowed.

“I thought as much. Stabbing your only friend in the back…” Lucy Gray shook her head, “Even I wouldn’t have thought you had that in you.” 

“He wasn’t my friend,” Coriolanus insisted hotly. 

“Sure seemed like it to me, but what do I know,” She said with a faux, self-deprecating smile that made Coriolanus’s blood boil. It was all an act.

But that’s who she was; a show-person. 

Why should he have ever thought any of it was something real? 

“So what…” He asked, picking up her knife, and handing it back to her, “What now? Friends?” 

Lucy Gray laughed, “We are the furthest thing from that, Snow,” She said humorlessly. 

“Thank God,” Coriolanus let out something of a smile, “You think you’ll manage it? Sleeping next to a monster like me?” He asked, his voice dark and threatening. 

Lucy Gray examined him for a few moments, “I survived the Hunger Games. And I know I’ll survive you.” 

And then, the smile she gave him, made his heart beat fast.

XXX

“Do you think there are any people out here at all?” Coriolanus asked another night, batting away mosquitoes and wishing with everything he had for a shower - it didn’t even need to be hot. Just plumbing and water would do, “Or is it just you and me for the rest of our wretched lives?” 

Lucy Gray smiled. 

“That would be your worst nightmare, wouldn’t it?” She asked sweetly, washing their dinner in the little river they’d stopped off at. 

“No.” 

“You may be able to lie to everyone else, but you can’t lie to me,” Lucy Gray said, a hum to her voice, like she was composing another song in her head, “You need people. You need ‘em. You need to control them, to be on top of them. You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself without it.” 

“That’s not true,” Coriolanus snapped, but furiously, he knew that she spoke honestly.

And it bothered him.

Most people saw him for what he told them to; the heir-apparent to the Snow empire. In charge, wealthy, and in control. Casca had seen him as a villain but still hadn’t seen the truth. Sejanus had seen him as a friend, of all the absurd things.
But Lucy Gray?

She, from the moment they met, had been able to fix her gaze right upon him and look deep into his soul.

And she wasn’t afraid to speak about it either, lay bare all his ugliness, all the things about him that should make her run. 

He wasn’t in control when it came to her. 

She always seemed to flaunt the fact that without her, he’d die out here. Or, at least, that’s what it seemed to him. 

“I think I don’t need people,” Lucy Gray continued to muse, “Give me a beautiful land, a guitar, and food enough to keep me alive, and I’d be happy.” 

“Well,” Coriolanus said bitterly, “It seems you’ll get your wish. I think all we’ll find out here are ghosts.” 

“No,” Lucy Gray shook her head, disagreeing, “We wouldn’t nearly be so lucky.” 

XXX

Time ran against each other, all in one big mushy mess, so when they did come across a person, Coriolanus couldn’t exactly tell you how long they’d been traveling.

He felt the passage of time though; his shirt was no longer pristine white but carried an ugly yellowish tinge. Lucy’s dress was muddied at the bottom with endless dirt, and it trailed behind her sadly. He could feel the scruff on his chin of a beard budding, a look he’d never quite preferred. His feet had blisters all over, from long days of just walking, and walking, and walking and it must have been quite some time since they were starting to harden over, a feeling that bothered him, but didn’t seem to bother Lucy Gray one bit.

He was stringy; if he were in Panem (if they were at all anymore), Coriolanus would have taken him for a poor districter. He had a little house built shoddily but didn’t seem bothered. He didn’t even try to defend it as they came up the path, his shotgun leaning on his chair, untouched. 

Coriolanus figured they must have made it out, because he asked, “You from those controlled parts down below?” 

“Panem?” Coriolanus asked, annoyed, “Yes.” 

“Hmm. Didn’t know they let folk out,” The man said with a raise of his eyebrow. 

“We’ve been traveling a long way, and we’re very tired,” Lucy Gray broke in, “Spare some food?” 

“What’s in it for me?” The man asked. When he smiled, his teeth were as greasy as his hair, and something about the way he looked at Lucy Gray put Coriolanus on edge. 

“How about we don’t kill you right now,” Coriolanus responded hotly, expecting the usual fear he placed within people, but was surprised only to find humor. 

“You got a spicy one here!” He shrieked, as though Coriolanus’s threat was the funniest damn thing, “What’s he to you, little lady?” 

“Brother,” Lucy Gray said, batting her eyes. 

The man scratched his chin, “Don’t look much like it.” 

“Half-siblings,” Coriolanus replied tensely, “Now, are you of any use to us, or should we keep moving?” 

“Hold your horses!” The man huffed, “Just making polite conversation,” He said, but Coriolanus felt lit was anything but, “I suppose I can spare a meal or so…but it would be common courtesy to give me something in return.” 

“How about a song?” Lucy Gray asked, “I don’t have my instruments, but I’ve been told I’m quite something.” 

Inside the cabin was, well, cozy.

And that was being generous.

It’s what Tigris would have said about it, always having a kind thing to say. Coriolanus thought it was dirty, uncivilized, and no place he’d willingly be for more than a night, but the idea of sleeping with a roof (though it was riddled with holes) was too tempting to pass up.

There was a stew going on the stove. As soon as Coriolanus stepped in, the waft of something meaty met his nose, and swallowed back the saliva gathering in his mouth. Lucy Gray had kept them alive on foraged items, but neither were much good at hunting. 

Coriolanus hadn’t realized how much he needed this until right about now. 

“Rabbit?” Lucy Gray guessed, peering into the stew. 

“Squirrel.” 

Coriolanus truly considered how far he’d fallen to think that Squirrel sounded perfect right about now. Not even in his darkest days as a child had he stooped so low. 

There was only one bed, and Lucy Gray was shuffled to it, Coriolanus left to his own. He uneasily sat against the foot of it, watching their provider bustle about. 

“I still think we could kill him,” He muttered quietly, for her ears only, "Take whatever he has worth taking." 

Lucy Gray hit his shoulder, “Stop it.” 

“I’m serious.” 

“So am I.” Lucy Gray’s expression was murderous, “We are not going to…he’s letting us stay here, basically free of charge!” 

Coriolanus watched him. Mostly, he watched how this man’s eyes always traveled back to Lucy Gray’s face, and it made him furious, “I don’t trust him.” 

“Neither do I,” Lucy Gray replied with a forced smile, “But we need this, Coriolanus. Badly.” 

They were given a portion of soup. Nothing large, and hardly enough to stop his rumbling stomach, but it was something. They managed to eek a few answers out of this man, but he wasn’t a wealth of knowledge.

The most promising piece of information? If they kept going north, about a day or two away, they’d hit a city.

People. Civilization. Rules. Opportunity…

Coriolanus could hardly wait. 

“How about that song, little songbird?” The man asked as they finished their meal. 

“I would be a bad guest to say no, wouldn’t I?” Lucy Gray responded, and tapped her chin, “Which one? Hmm…” She pretended to think out loud. 

Coriolanus rolled his eyes at her theatrics. She didn’t need to ham it up for someone like him; he wasn’t going to give her money, or supplies, or more food.

Sing the damn song and get on with their night, that was best. 

The man was enamored with her throughout her performance. Why wouldn't he be? She did have an alluring voice, it was what had gotten her so popular in the games. Even Coriolanus would be a fool to dismiss that. 

He couldn’t help but be drawn in too. She hadn’t sung, not properly, since they’d left. Just little whispers of melodies under her breath. 

It was low and throaty and intoxicating, and Coriolanus found himself drawn into her orbit, needing to be near her, recalling what had been so… enigmatic about her the first time they’d met. 

He wasn’t the only one to think so. 

“Damn, girl! What a voice you have. Care to bless an old man with another?” He asked. 

“Oh, I don’t know…” Lucy Gray laughed, tensing on the edge of the bed, as though just realizing how he was examining her now. Almost instinctively, she shifted so that Coriolanus was in front of her, between the man and herself. 

“You know, a voice like yours is like an angel’s. You ever think of settling down?” He asked, a forlorn look in his eyes, “Man, if I had a wife with a voice like that-,” 

“Don’t even think about it,” Coriolanus snarled, his protectiveness springing up unexpectedly. 

The man broke off, startled, staring at Coriolanus with shock.

“What’s his deal?” 

“He’s my big brother. He’s just real protective of me,” Lucy Gray quickly supplied, the surprise from his words also easing off her shoulders as she tried to gain some semblance of control.  

“I won’t hurt the pretty lady,” The man said to Coriolanus, talking to him as though he was stupid, “I swear it.” He reached out, intending to tug on one of Lucy Gray’s curls, but Coriolanus pushed him away. 

“Lay a finger on her and you’ll lose that hand,” He said with a low sneer. 

“Right, sure,” The man said, retreating, taking two steps back, rethinking his advances. 

“Well, seems about time to tuck in, hmm?” Lucy Gray laughed nervously, trying to ease the tension. Coriolanus didn’t take his eyes off the man for a single second, not wanting him to think he was ever distracted. 

“I only got one bed sweetheart, and sorry, but I’m not willin’ to give it up. But you’re more than welcome to share it.” He said with an easygoing, too-casual smile. 

“I’d rather not,” Lucy Gray replied hotly, “If it’s all the same to you.” 

The man pouted, “Suit yourself, doll.” 

They were given one scant blanket between them, and Lucy Gray shook, unable to sleep.

It would have been well within his personality to say that she deserved it for being so trusting, and to go to sleep himself and not give a second thought, but Coriolanus found himself wanting to protect, to comfort her.

He reached to bring her closer, “Go to sleep,” He whispered in her ear, feeling her shiver against his body. 

“But-,” Lucy Gray began to protest. 

“I won’t let him do anything,” Coriolanus replied, “You have no reason to trust me, but believe me when I tell you this.” He said. 

“Why?” She demanded. It was a fair question. 

He replied with a shrug, “We’re in this together, aren’t we?” 

“Gathering goodwill so I don’t leave you in the cold?” Lucy Gray asked shortly. 

“Perhaps.” 

“Hmm,” She hummed, but some part of her must have believed him, because she pulled herself into his personal space, and within the hour, she had drifted asleep.

Coriolanus hardly slept a wink.

In the morning, as Lucy Gray thanked the man for his generosity, Coriolanus pulled out some rat poison from his pack, something he’d kept carefully wrapped up, just in case.

He sprinkled it carefully into the man’s soup, still simmering on the fire.

For all he knew, the man was smart enough to scour the bowl after they left, but Coriolanus doubted it.

But he wouldn’t really know if that was his fifth kill or not ever. 

They never came back through this way.

Still, Lucy Gray caught his eye in the window as he came out, stuffing the poison back into his bag. 

One day, he caught her rifling through it.

He wondered if she knew.

He figured she must.

But, she never said anything. 

XXX

They walked a day, their moods swinging between high points for being given some food for their stomachs, to low points recalling the crawling feeling that the man had given them. 

“I hope the other people here are different,” Coriolanus said, making light conversation with Lucy Gray, his first attempt since they’d set off. 

Now that it seemed he certainly wasn’t about to kill her, and in fact, would go great lengths to keep her safe, it seemed silly to ignore her. 

“You mean less wild?” Lucy Gray snorted.

“You’re telling me you want to run into fifty others that leer at your breasts and try to grope you in the night?” 

Lucy Gray had no good answer for that. 

When they stopped for the night, both anxious with the idea they may meet others as soon as tomorrow, Coriolanus couldn’t help but ask. 

“Why did you say I was your brother?” 

Lucy Gray shrugged, “Just came out, I suppose. Didn’t have no rhyme or reason.” 

“Hmm.” 

Coriolanus ate his berries in silence, but finally Lucy Gray huffed.

“Say what you really want to say, Coriolanus,” She commanded.

“I think that’s a poor choice,” He said honestly, without hesitation, “It opens you up to further badgering, and it seems odd for us to be traveling together.” 

“Why, family in your city don’t stay together? What about you, and Tigris?” Lucy Gray asked. 

“It’s different,” Coriolanus tried to explain, something in the back of his mind that bothered him about being introduced as her brother, “For one, he was right. We don’t look alike at all.” 

“Fine, Mr. ‘I Know So Much Better’,” She was fueled with fury now, “What would you say we introduce ourselves as? A Capitol Mentor and a Hunger Games winner?” 

“No, that wouldn’t do any good. Likely they have no idea what that means,” He said, deciding to take her clear sarcasm at face value, just to annoy her, “I think…” He trailed off, the idea popping into his head before he really considered it fully, the final words silencing him. 

He pondered it for a moment before gathering his courage again, “I think we should be married.” 

Lucy Gray was silent for a long moment, then let out a single bark of laughter, “Well, Coriolanus Snow, take me out to dinner before, don’t you?” She snarked. 

“I’m serious!” 

“So am I! As far as I know, a kiss doesn’t tumble into a marriage; at least, not unless we went really wrong.” 

“It’s just pretend, obviously,” Coriolanus snapped, hating how she mocked him, “But I think it would keep you safer.” 

“Oh,” Lucy Gray got up, putting her hands on her hips, staring him down, “It’s all for my benefit, hmm?” 

“Isn’t it?” Coriolanus stood too, throwing out his arms, “If we say we’re married, no one’ll look at you. If you’re mine, they wouldn’t even consider trying to make a pass at you.” 

“If I’m yours?” Lucy Gray raised an eyebrow, “Ah, it’s just about control. Can’t be your girlfriend, no, I gotta be your wife.” 

“That’s not it,” Coriolanus said, his face turning red, “A girlfriend is…it’s…” He struggled, “Wives are forever, you know?” Divorce was as foreign of a word as any. He knew of its origins, but no one he’d ever met had gotten a divorce. It had just fallen out of use. A marriage felt final and serious. 

“I can’t think of a worse fate,” Lucy Gray spat, “Than being married to you. Lucy Gray Snow.” 

Coriolanus bit back a reply, trying to ease his fast racing heart to hear her say that. It curled something inside of him, a desire deeper than anything he’d felt. A need for her to be his; in name, in meaning, in truth. 

It felt right.

Lucy Gray stormed off, throwing her arms up and muttering about all his stupidest ideas, this one being the worst yet; no matter that those stupid ideas had kept her alive during the Games. 

Coriolanus knew she’d be back, but what he wasn’t expecting was Lucy Gray to come stomping back around, kicking him awake. 

“Propose to me, proper.” 

“What?” Coriolanus asked blearily, staring up at her. It was nearly dawn. 

Lucy Gray’s face was contorted into a sense of finality, “If you’re serious, get on one knee and propose.” 

“Lucy-,” 

“You can’t even do that?” She snorted, “It’s hardly anything.” 

“I don’t want you getting the wrong ideas about this.” 

Lucy Gray crossed her arms, “That you may love me? No worries, I am under zero delusions. It’s pragmatic. And temporary.” 

“Right.” 

“So propose…and you’d better muster up a ring; real or fake, I’d expect one.” 

Coriolanus and Lucy Gray walked slowly this day, taking their time, as though thinking about what they’d stumbled into with each other, even if Coriolanus hadn’t asked and she hadn’t said yes, the intent was still there. 

He knew he’d never be able to find something worthy of actually asking, even for fake, and felt like a common pauper as he braided hearty grass together to create a plaited design, at least something that could look presentable and pass for a poor man’s ring. 

When they paused mid-day, he gritted his teeth, got down on one knee, and raised the ring of grass up.

“Lucy Gray Barid, will you fake-marry me?” 

Lucy Gray seemed to enjoy looking down at him, having the high ground. She took her dear sweet time, and he wondered if all this was just to make him feel foolish, to laugh at him for even considering she may say yes.

But, finally, “Sure, Coriolanus Snow. I got nothing better to do.” 

That certainly was to annoy him.

Before, marrying into the Snow family was an honor. Now, Lucy Gray was treating it like something to pass the time. 

She let him slip the ring on, and no sooner was it on her finger than she was leaning up, twirling her arms around his neck. At first, Coriolanus thought she was trying to kill him, strangle him right here until she met her lips to his.

No; she was kissing him.

Coriolanus fell into the familiar feeling of her lips against his, grasping at her waist, pulling her deeper into him.

When she pulled back, he felt a bit stunned. The sounds of cicadas ringing in the meadows came into focus first, and then the feeling of the sun against his bare arms, and then the smell of wildflowers among them. 

“There.” 

“There?” Coriolanus raised an eyebrow in question. 

“That should do it.” 

“That’s…it?” He laughed, “But don’t we need witnesses or-,” 

“Sure, honey, we had witnesses. The creek talks, but it can’t tell nobody it’s not true. And the wind whispers but it won’t break our secret,” She said with a little smile, “Besides, who’s gunna say we’re not? Who says we can’t just declare it?” 

“Because it doesn’t work that way.” 

“Does for us.” 

“Fine,” Coriolanus licked his lips, “How does it feel to be Lucy Gray Snow?” 

“How do you know we didn’t take my name and you didn’t become Coriolanus Baird?” 

Coriolanus shuddered at the thought. 

“I’m just winding you up. Besides, where we’re going, I doubt we’ll use our real names anyway,” She said with a shrug, “So I guess I’m neither.” 

Secretly, Coriolanus thought she’d be a Snow to him from here on out, real or not. 

“Aren’t we going to keep going?” Coriolanus asked, itching to move. For something. 

Lucy Gray set down her bag, knocking some things around, “I took this before I left, thinking it might be good to celebrate something. Seems as good as any a time.” She said, coming back with a bottle of clear liquid. Coriolanus took one sniff and recoiled at the acrid smell.

Moonshine.

“It is our wedding day, after all,” She added, “Isn’t this what people do?” 

“Get drunk?” Coriolanus rolled his nose.

“Maybe Capitol weddings are different…” 

“Not by much,” Coriolanus muttered, taking it from her hands, “To us.” He added dryly, and the first gulp burned all the way down his throat and to his stomach, and lingered long after.

It tasted like gasoline. 

“That’s horrid.” 

“Cheers,” Lucy Gray said with a mischievous grin, taking it from him. She pulled a face too at the taste, but seemed to swallow it with much less fuss, “We should get our stories straight. Who we are, why we’re running, all that.” She said, “And, it’ll be much more bearable with alcohol.” 

“That’s true,” Coriolanus agreed, taking the bottle back from her. He swirled the clear liquid in the bottle, staring into it, “I’ve heard the best way to lie is to stick to the truth. So.” 

“We ran away because they wouldn’t approve our of marriage?” Lucy Gray offered up. 

“I’m a Snow. I could have married you,” Coriolanus said, raising his chin, “And no one could have said anything.” 

He’d imagined it; during the Games. Taking her home. Parading her around. Throwing the wedding of the century; all the articles would write about it. Tigris would design her dress. They’d be unstoppable at the Capitol. He’d whisper in people’s ears, and she’d sing them into submission.

His chest panged for the life that was far behind them, buried in the ground with Mayfair and Billy, with no chance of going back. 

“We’re running from the law,” He said, “But it wasn’t our fault. We can’t look like bad folk to take in.” 

“If they know anything, saying that we didn’t want to be part of the Hunger Games would do it,” Lucy Gray snorted, taking the bottle back. 

Coriolanus held his tongue. 

She just didn’t understand. 

He focused on Lucy Gray, lying in the grass, sun dappling her face. He was pulled to her like some primal instinct, as he maneuvered himself so they were lying nose to nose. He could feel the alcohol burning into his brain, making him foggy, and more likely to say something he couldn’t think all the way through properly.

He pursed his lips together, trying to keep his thoughts inside, but something about Lucy Gray at this moment seemed irresistible to him. 

“What?” Her voice hitched as she tilted her head.

“Does being fake-married come with its perks?” He asked, fingers itching to reach out for her, but he kept them stubbornly at his side.

“What do you mean, Coriolanus Snow?” Lucy Gray asked him, but there was a humor to her voice, something that made him think she wasn’t as dumb as she was pretending to be. 

Coriolanus leaned in, his lip tracing up her jawline, until he reached her ears. 

“I want to feel myself inside of you, wife ,” He whispered and was very aware of the whimper she made in response. He grasped her arm, not hard enough to bruise, but enough to hold her steady, “Please.” 

He wasn’t begging, he wasn’t. 

Snows took what they wanted, but Coriolanus wasn’t the sort of person to force himself upon anyone. 

It would be so much sweeter if she agreed. 

Lucy Gray nodded hard, fingers locking in the belt loops of his pants, “Yes.” She agreed, a breathless affirmation that had Coriolanus weak in the knees. 

He grasped her neck, pulling her against him for a bruising kiss, savoring how she tasted against him. Needing him. Wanting him. 

He felt her brush against his body and Coriolanus exhaled loudly, surprised about how electrifying it felt when she did that. 

She pulled him up to a half-kneeling position, her fingers deftly untying her braided corset top, freeing her top half for his enjoyment.

As she hurried her top over her head, Coriolanus took a moment to really look at her, stunned and unsure. 

Lucy Gray blinked at him, a slight frown on her face, as she took his trembling hands and pressed them against her breasts. Coriolanus let out a noisy breath, trying to keep his thoughts in focus, as they were spilling everywhere, threatening to have this all over far too quickly.

“It’s your first time, isn’t it?” Lucy Gray read him immediately. 

Coriolanus snapped his head up, scowling, “Of course not,” He snarled, hating the idea that she thought him fumbling or inadequate. 

“My mistake,” She purred, “I guess I’m just that stunning, then, huh?” She asked, “Gotcha speechless?”

Coriolanus ground his jaw, caught between the lie and her ego. 

“It’s okay, darlin',” She assured, maneuvering him to the ground, and straddling his legs. He didn’t like this. He was meant to be on top, but having a half-naked girl over top of him made his brain feel as liquid as the soup they’d eaten last. 

“Is it yours?” He asked in a throaty, raw tone. He wasn’t sure he wanted the answer. 

Lucy Gray began to thrust against him, “Does it matter?” She asked. 

Yes, he thought, because whoever was your first, I’ll rip their spine out. 

It mustn’t be, he figured, as she seemed to be able to push him around like malleable clay, so easily unwinding him in her palms. 

“You don’t like that idea, do you?” She asked, fingers unbuckling his pants, “Of me with someone else?” 

“No,” Coriolanus replied through gritted teeth, hating how the truth seemed to spill from his lips. It was like she’d poisoned him. 

He looked up, wild and furious, and Lucy Gray just laughed.

“There ain’t nothing in that bottle but alcohol, dear,” She said, “You’re just drunk, Coriolanus.” 

Coriolanus struggled for a response but found the best way to shut her up was to pull her down, biting her enough to feel the pinprick of pain, but not enough to draw blood. He expected her to shove him away, but she gasped, tilting her hips against him harder.

Interesting. 

She managed to shove his pants down, and immediately her palms were on him, and Coriolanus groaned, digging his head against the grass beneath him.

He didn’t know it was going to feel like this. Something about her hand, so tiny compared to his own whenever he got himself off, drove him insane. 

Lucy Gray lifted her hips enough to pull her underwear off, before lining them up and slowly sinking down onto Coriolanus. 

Coriolanus cursed, fingers gripping her waist, fingernails making little half-moons in her skin.

She paused, and moved her hips, once.

“Yeah, it feels good, huh?” She said, “Here’s the thing, Coriolanus,” She began, pulling herself up and raising her hips above him, teasingly, “I thought a lot about this when you brought up the idea, and I can’t say I liked it to begin with.” 

“Lucy Gray-,” He growled, going to pull her back down, but she swatted his hand away. 

“Listen! If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do this my way, you hear?” She demanded. 

“Perhaps I’ll listen,” Coriolanus said, rolling his eyes. 

“Fine.” Lucy Gray said, beginning to dismount, “Have a nice life, Coriolanus.” 

“Wait-,” Coriolanus knew if she left him like this, so close, he’d go out of his mind trying to get the feeling exactly right, “Perhaps I can…hear you out.” 

Lucy Gray was almost bursting with triumph at his words and came to settle back down on him. She sank low and Coriolanus swore he saw stars the next time her thighs hit his hip bones. 

“You don’t like the idea of me with anyone else? The same goes for you. I won’t be waiting up for you while you go off with anyone else. I’m not some dumb wife, blind to what her husband is doing with other people.” 

“And you’ll do the same?” Coriolanus asked, looking up at her, trying to catch his breath and not shiver as she shifted her weight. 

“Of course. I don’t have double standards. So this will become a regular thing. You know, I had hoped you’d fuck as well as you kissed,” She said, flexing a bit, “And it seems I’m right. Don’t let that go to your head now.” 

Coriolanus smirked, “Too late. What else.” 

“You will not disrespect me. You will tell me the truth at all times; I've seen all your ugly, and I don't care, as long as you don't lie. You will treat me as an equal to you; I think we’ve proven that we’re about that. You need me, and I need you. So act like it. You’ll protect me with everything you have; it’s your damn fault we’re in this mess.” 

“Fine,” Coriolanus snapped, though it all sounded reasonable, “This almost sounds like a real marriage.” He said with a snort. 

“Real or not real, it doesn’t matter much,” Lucy Gray said, “Because we need to sell it to everyone else we meet, so we may as well act like it.” 

“What do I get from this arrangement?” 

“This, as often as you want,” Lucy Gray teased, slowly rising up on him, and slowly lowering herself back down, “And I’ll be in your corner too.” 

“If I ask you to cook and clean for me, will you?” Coriolanus asked, remembering what his mother did for his father, though it was so long ago he scarcely recalled. 

“I’m not the most domestic, but I’ll sing you sweet ballads as you fall asleep each night,” She said, “And I’ll teach you what I like.” She took his thumb, licking it before taking it beneath her skirt, pressing it up against a nub, “Like this,” She breathed brokenly, “Circles.” She whispered. 

Coriolanus got the hang of it at once, and soon enough, she was riding him, pressing against his hand, making little breathless moans. She felt so good around him, and it took all of his energy not to finish early, and to take her right to the edge of an orgasm. 

“How badly do you want it?” He asked, taking his fingers away. 

“Please, please,” Lucy Gray nodded, frantically, “Please-.” 

“Please, what?” He asked, finding his footing to gain some control back. 

“I need to finish, I’m so close,” She pleaded. Coriolanus grinned widely, returning his fingers, and within moments he had her trembling around him, biting her lip as she tried not to cry out.

In the moments between, when her body went gooey and soft, Coriolanus flipped them, reveling in what it felt like to actually move within her for the first time, now in utter control of the situation. 

Lucy Gray surged up, kissing him, and he tasted blood on his tongue, from her lips. 

“Do you swear it?” She asked, “Do you promise?” 

“I do, I do,” Coriolanus agreed, nodding as he shoved her skirt up around her waist. Lucy Gray bit on his tongue, enough to draw blood from him too, and it mingled in their mouths. 

“A blood pact. Stronger than any promise I’ve ever known,” She said, staring up at him. Coriolanus was almost charmed by it, such a bold move. He swiped his finger across his own lips, before wiping hers, dragging blood down her chin and to her throat, where he experimentally pressed enough pressure against it to make her tense, but not stop him.

“Mine,” He groaned into her ear as he grasped one of her legs, finding the angle that helped him press deep inside of her, “You’re mine now, Lucy Gray,” He mumbled, repeating, almost deliriously high. 

“Yours,” Lucy Gray agreed, clinging to his back. 

That put him over the edge, and no amount of meditation could keep him from finishing as Lucy Gray whispered what he wanted to hear most. 

He had the thought to stumble back, finishing in his palm instead of inside of her, haunted by horror stories from Grandmaam of bastard children.

Though, if they were married, was it really? 

Still, Coriolanus let himself float down from his high, and he was pleased to see Lucy Gray laying where he left her, also gulping in air, face red and hot and bones relaxed and spent. 

She rose up on her elbows, staring at him with half-lidded eyes. 

“I think you’re teachable, Coriolanus Snow.” She teased, grinning widely, “I can work with that.” 

“If I remember, I had you begging for release,” Coriolanus said, tugging her to him for a bruising kiss, “Or do I need to remind you again?” 

His fingers found the crux of her legs, and he was surprised to still find her wet. She tried to protest, but Coriolanus managed to coax another time out of her, wanting to prove his mastery.

He intended to treat her right, and that included helping her finish until she was sore and tender. 

Plus, he doubted he’d ever grow tired of the way she sounded when she came on his fingers or on his cock.

It was a better song than anything she sang for the crowds, especially because it was all for him.

They napped in the sun, curled against each other. For the first time since leaving, Coriolanus let his guard down, just a bit.

Just enough to ease into this moment with her, as though it may be actually real. 

When they woke, Lucy Gray suggested a dip in the river with the tiny sliver of soap they had. 

“I’m sticky,” She said, so matter of factly, “And that seems to be your fault.” 

However, they left the river perhaps dirtier than when they entered. 

But wasn’t that what you were meant to do after getting hitched? And, they were young and hotblooded; it was like the universe had given them permission now, and both were eager to claim it. 

By dusk, they were back on the trail again. 

It wasn’t long until they reached…ruins. 

“District 13…” Coriolanus whispered, something pulling deep inside of him. It was because of the devastation here that his family lost all their money, everything poured into their nuclear program. 

“Didn’t think it existed anymore.” 

Coriolanus surveyed it, “Doesn’t look like it does.” 

They turned, but in their stupor, a group of people had stealthily come behind. Coriolanus put Lucy Gray behind him, and her hand grasped for his, holding tightly. 

“Who are you?” He demanded, “Tell me!” 

“We could be your saviors or your worst nightmare,” One of the men said, “But a better question is…who are you?” 

Coriolanus inhaled once, trying to summon every ounce of him that had charmed and amazed before. He smiled, non-threateningly, putting his hands up as though letting down easy. 

“Just two newlyweds seeking asylum,” Coriolanus said, “My wife and I are just looking for a place to go. We mean no trouble.” 

“I don’t like repeating myself,” The man with the biggest gun said, “Who are you?” 

“Ah, so sorry, I guess a gun in my face just has me a bit on edge,” Coriolanus said, a round-sounding laugh, enough that you would never think him dangerous, “My name is Oleander and this is my wife, Linnet Rose. Why don’t you bring us in, and we’ll explain everything, and you’ll see we’re just two kids, looking for salvation?” 

“They do look young,” One of the other men whispered. Slowly, guns were lowered.

Why would two travelers hardly past the age of twenty be a threat to anyone?

“Check them for weapons,” The first one said, but all they found was Lucy’s gathering knife, confiscated quickly. And that seemed to be enough for them. 

“You’re both right. Officially, we don’t exist. But officially…” The first man put a blindfold on their eyes, “Can’t be too careful.” 

“Naturally.” Coriolanus agreed. 

Lucy Gray squeezed his hand.

He squeezed back.

He imagined himself shaking off his former life, becoming Oleander as he took each step forward. He tried to picture himself running away to marry the love of his life, desperate, and willing to do whatever was needed. Someone docile, someone careful, and someone who wouldn’t make a fuss.

With each step, he felt like he was finding this character within him.

Beside him, Lucy Gray kept a firm grasp on his palm, never letting go. 

They walked into the darkness together. 

It was showtime.

Chapter Text

Coriolanus hates the way that District 13 feels. Lucy Gray had teased him upon arrival, saying he should feel right at home with the sterileness that the walls are seeping. It feels too clean; too spotless. 

So she’s wrong.

It’s not the comfort, the warmth of the Districts that he would never admit he’d become almost accustomed to, or at the very least would prefer to this. District 12 had felt full of life, and color was bursting at every edge, so vibrant that it had been overwhelming.

And the Capitol certainly didn’t skimp on color either; the fashion of the Capitol folk for regular errands was like choking on a rainbow. Even the style of houses and interiors, though sleek, had been painted in gilded gold, shimmering silver, and bursting bronzes.

This gray, suffocating, and cloying, was nothing like what Coriolanus liked at all.

For all his displeasure, though, Lucy Gray absolutely hated it. 

It wasn’t hard to glean such things. She made her displeasure of much of everything here pretty obvious. 

She’d almost bit the arm off of the soldier that tried to take her pretty ruffles away, balling up Coriolanus’s mother’s scarf, the orange brilliantly shimmering against the grays of the walls in here, pressing it close to her chest. 

“You take this, you’ll regret it. It was a gift from my husband, you see?” She said, eyes burning, “And I’m not inclined to give it up any time soon.” 

That’s my girl.

So Lucy Gray kept her scarf. And her colorful dress. 

She didn’t give a rat’s ass about offending anyone here, something Coriolanus was trying to carefully navigate. 

“Utilitarian my ass,” She muttered to Coriolanus, glad he had a comrade in navigating this, “No wonder their population is scarce-this would make me suicidal to live like this.”

Though his wife, she was not quite a friend, and no longer quite an enemy. Something treading the waters in between, but like a slippery fish, would flash away whenever he tried to grasp it to figure out what they meant to one another.

Tied with a red string; that’s the best way Coriolanus could think to explain it. They’d fallen into each other’s lives, for better or worse. Whenever Coriolanus tried to untangle the complicatedness of how they fit into one another’s space, he found that they were constantly crisscrossing in and out, making it impossible to separate one from the other.

He’d changed Lucy Gray, but she’d changed him too.

How else would he be here, willingly, at the end of the world if that were not so? 

Their first days in District 13 were spent in a holding cell. It was far more comfortable than anything the Peacekeepers would have thrown suspect people in, but it didn’t put Coriolanus at ease one bit. 

Finally, after many interviews with multiple people where Coriolanus answered the same questions over and over, as though someone was just waiting for him or Lucy Gray to trip up, they were both brought in front of the current President; a man who hardly looked like he’d surpassed 40, with clear blue eyes like a depthless lake.

“President Jackson; we’ve heard much about you,” Coriolanus said, going to give him a firm handshake. That was how he was taught to make the best impression, “What an honor.” 

“Sir,” Lucy Gray followed, curtsying. 

He spied her still in her ragged clothes, while Coriolanus had switched out his attire for their generic khaki boiler pants. His jeans and shirt weren’t much to care about anyway. 

“I still you’re still refusing our District uniform,” He said, “But you can’t stay in that dress forever.” 

Lucy Gray wrapped the orange scarf tighter around her shoulders, “You don’t know me, President,” She said with a sweet, but venomous smile, “But my stubbornness has no bounds.” 

Coriolanus bit his tongue, wishing she’d be a bit less provocative. 

However, President Korbin Jackson smiled, charmed by her.

“That so? I hear you seek asylum.” 

“Yes, sir, as we’ve explained to all your men,” Coriolanus said, a tad aggravated. He didn’t leave everything to spend days locked in a cage like a stray mutt. If this was his life prospect, he’d take the chance of going back any day. 

“If you intend to live here, you’re one of us. That means that you follow our rules.” 

He looked pointedly at Lucy Gray.

“She’ll fall in line,” Coriolanus promised with a tight smile, “She’s just tired, as I am. You can imagine the upheaval of a new place like this.” 

“Hmm,” President Jackson crossed his arms, “I take it from your shaved head you were a Peacekeeper back in the Districts. You have military training.” 

It wasn’t a question. It was an observation.

Not that this man was a regular detective in Coriolanus’s eyes. Almost anyone could glean that; it was the way Coriolanus was very precise about holding himself. He wanted President Jackson to know that. He wanted to be placed where he felt he could make the best decisions going forward, the place where the power lay.  

Plus, he figured his shaved head was a dead giveaway.

Didn’t make Jackson smart, just made him not dumb. And yes, there was a difference. And, if you were trying to suss someone out, it was important to know which. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“That can be useful to us,” Jackson said with a curt nod, “How old are you?” 

His gaze had switched to Lucy Gray. Funny that he didn’t bother asking Coriolanus. 

“Twenty,” Lucy Gray replied with a soft, doe smile. They’d agreed early on to say that she was 20 and he was 22. It would make far more sense for them to be married at those ages, and less likely to be seen as two teenagers throwing a tantrum. Even though she had a round face and large eyes, Coriolanus felt she could pass for just a few years older easily, and President Korbin Jackson didn’t seem to think otherwise.

“You train at all?”

“No, sir,” Lucy Gray said, “I’m afraid I’ve seen enough violence in my life to know it’s not for me.” 

She didn’t need to say she was a former Hunger Games victor. It was enough to think her life had been full of pain and hardship. 

“Pity. What else can you offer us?” 

Coriolanus felt Lucy Gray stiffen beside him. 

“I can sing.” 

Korbin held back a snort, though he didn’t hide his disdain, “We don’t have much need for that here.” 

“Everyone needs songs in their lives.” Lucy Gray argued, crossing her arms. 

“Look, if you want to try to sing in your free time, by all means,” Korbin said dismissively, “But a pretty face and a clear voice doesn’t get you far here. The default is military, whether you want to or not. Unless you can clean, cook, or heal.” 

Lucy Gray bit the inside of her cheeks, holding back angry tears. Coriolanus could see them gathering in the Coriolanusners of her eyes.

Perhaps at the beginning of their journey together, Coriolanus wouldn’t have cared. She was a thorn in his side, a loose end, a threat to his safety. The reason he’d kept her around was her usefulness, but it seemed luck had turned her back to her now. 

However, Coriolanus didn’t like the idea of sending her back, away from him.

He’d meant it when he’d said that she was his. 

“She can forage. And cook. And if you give her training in medicine, she can do it too.” He spoke up, and her fingers fished for him, squeezing it. 

A silent thank-you, the only kind he’d ever get from her. 

“Sure,” Korbin said, examining them carefully. It was clear they were a packaged set now. Coriolanus, without thinking, had made a statement.

He’d have to be more savvy in the future.

“I’ll cook,” Lucy Gray spoke up, finding her voice, “I can cook.” 

“You can get a day to become settled in, and find your way around. However, we expect you up bright and early to your summons at 6 am in two day’s time. Continual tardiness will result in exile.” 

“How are we to know our schedules? Messenger pigeon?” Lucy Gray bit out, furious. Korbin almost smiled. 

“Temporary tattoos, slid under your door each night.” He said, pulling up his sleeve, “Welcome to District 13. I hope you will become productive members of our society You know; we always are pleased to welcome families.” 

Internally, Coriolanus was beaming. It wasn’t until a guard left them off at the doors of their new house that Coriolanus let out a truly relieved sigh that transitioned into a full-bodied laugh. 

They needed them more than they needed District 13.

They were desperate for people, for survival. Though Jackson postured that they were willing to throw them away at the first hint of disrespect, the truth of their leverage lay in his words.

Families. 

Coriolanus had found his angle.

He could work on this. 

“What’s so funny?” Lucy Gray demanded. 

“I see it clearly now,” Coriolanus explained, eyes bright, “And President Jackson has no idea what he just admitted.” 

Perhaps this wouldn’t be the exile Coriolanus had thought it was going to be. 

XXX

Coriolanus woke up slowly, leisurely. 

A warm light spilled into their little room, an imitation of the bright, early sun. 

Coriolanus felt better rested than he had in years. The bed in his apartment had been sold off long ago, and he slept on a collection of pillows cobbled together to resemble a cot (Grandmaam still had her mattress; she deserved it). The Academy had a few cots that were a step above, and the Peacekeeper beds were somewhere between the two. 

The best bed, prior to this, had been when he’d broken his arm in childhood and spent three days at the hospital wing. 

But he’d never tell anyone that.

This bed almost felt too large, too comfortable.

Coriolanus was on edge the moment he woke up, tensed, expecting some ‘gotcha’ to leap out and shake him silly, make him regret thinking he could fall asleep anywhere. 

But it never came.

No, the truth was, as sparsely decorated as their suite was, the bed was the best feature. 

It was at least a queen, if not a king size, with colorless yet comfortable sheets and a mattress that just made you want to sink into it forever. It helped with his theory, the one that ruminated slowly in the back of his brain, rolling about.

Being given this boon was indeed quite the tell for District 13.

Still.

Lucy Gray was snuggled up next to him. 

There was only one bed, of course, since they were meant to be married. The chairs looked almost aggressively uncomfortable to sleep on, and they’d been curled up in each other many nights before this.

It seemed like the best choice.

Coriolanus felt clean and awake; two emotions he had not felt for quite some time. 

They had a small shower in their bathroom off the singular room. While it wasn’t anything to write home about, and their water was on a timer so there were no luxuriously long steamy sessions, Coriolanus was glad that District 13 still abided by some creature comforts.

The soap they’d been given was non-scented and lathered well enough. There hadn’t been hot water, but they were used to dunking themselves in frigid streams on the way here, so it wasn’t too odious a task. Coriolanus had heard through the grapevine that the further you moved in the military ranks, there might be a possibility of warm showers down the line.

Silly as it was, that already was a convincing argument as to why he should figure out his place- and take note of the way one had upward mobility- fast. 

He pressed his nose into Lucy Gray’s hair splayed across their pillow, breathing in her natural scent underneath the lingering hint of non-descript soap. 

They were gifted plain cotton tees and shorts to wear to bed, and Lucy Gray had at least relented into wearing this. It dwarfed her like someone had gotten her sizing wrong at the surplus store, but Coriolanus was charmed by how it hung off her figure. He noticed she’d only put on the shirt, choosing to keep her legs bare.

Coriolanus dove his fingers underneath the hem of the shirt, tugging it up so he could splay his hands across her hip, leaning into her, biting back a quiet moan. 

His mind was on replay: wife, mine, Lucy Gray Snow…

He replayed through these words as she shifted, waking gently. She turned her head to glance back at Coriolanus, an impish smile on her lips.
“Morning, doll. I thought I had gone to heaven the way these sheets feel,” She said, shivering in excitement. 

“Same,” Coriolanus agreed, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to her collarbone. 

Waking up in a bed with her almost felt…domestic. That tickled his stomach with an emotion he couldn’t quite grasp, but he wasn’t sure he liked it. 

Or perhaps that was the issue; he liked it too much. 

Either way, he tried to shove that feeling down, kill it, and bury it. 

Lucy Gray let out a soft, but hard-edged exhale as she pressed back against him. 

“Coriolanus-,” She whispered, as though afraid someone would hear her use his real name, “Please…” 

“Can I?” He asked, unsure why he was asking permission. She was his wife, and this was her duty. Even as that thought came across his mind, he felt venom pulling in his throat, and burning all the way up, like the idea was going to choke him.

Luckily, Lucy Gray was more than willing. 

He perhaps would joke that he unlocked something in her, but the truth was, she’d unleashed something within him. The reason he’d never sought to lose his virginity before her was lack of interest; it distracted him from his goals. 

Besides, any girl he tried to bed, he ran the risk of having to take her home, and he very well couldn’t have that. 

It had seemed such a frivolous distraction, and therefore, he’d never felt that burning urge, not the way he had now. It’s like she opened up about what true passion and pleasure actually were, and he felt foolish for imagining he could ever go without.

But maybe it was just her.

He wasn’t sure he cared enough to look anyone else’s way.

Funny thing, he doubted that she’d ever have to worry that he’d step out on her to seek sexual gratification elsewhere. Lucy Gray was all he had wanted, and somewhere, he had a feeling that would never change. 

Lucy Gray gasped as he pressed into her, moving his hips slowly. 

The soreness of their travels, as well as sleeping in a holding cage for three days, had caught up with him. While his dreams were of taking her in every dirty position he could think of, reality required him to go slower.

Besides…they had all the time in the world right now. 

Lucy Gray bucked her hips against him, and they found a quiet, slow rhythm. It felt like lava slowly slucing down a mountainside. Just because he wasn’t snapping his hips fast didn’t mean that it was without the feeling of fire in both of their lower stomachs. 

The way that Lucy Gray moved with him was enough to tease him and keep him on edge, never quite allowing him to find completion. In turn, Coriolanus used his fingers between her legs to drag her right to the precipice of an orgasm, before withdrawing his hands, leaving her begging for friction. 

Finally, Coriolanus took full steerage, pulling Lucy Gray’s hips harshly against his, holding her in place as he ran his high to its finish line. 

“Do you still need to finish?” He asked Lucy Gray, rolling her onto her back. He knew that perhaps his former classmates would believe him a greedy lover. Perhaps with anyone else he would be, but it was such a thrill to hear her moans from his fingers, or his cock, or his tongue and know that no other man was making her sound like that. 

“If you’d be so kind,” She said, smiling up at him. Her shirt was pushed up to her neck. 

Coriolanus leaned down, taking a breast in his mouth, swirling his tongue around her, and listening to her gasp. 

His left hand pushed her legs apart, a satisfaction rising within him to feel his own spent between her legs. 

“Oh- Coriolanus!” Lucy Gray gasped, pulling him up for a bruising set of kisses as she rode his hand until she found her own completion. 

“Well, good morning to you too,” She said with a throaty laugh, “Is that how I can expect all my wakings to go?” 

Coriolanus grinned. 

He couldn’t help it; his smile was genuine. 

He stumbled to his bathroom, leaning into the mirror and rubbing his chin. He really hated beards; he hoped there was a razor within this stupid cave to return his face back to its usual smooth self.

His hair had begun to grow back, however. Lucy Gray came up behind him, and as though she was reading his mind, rubbed the top of his head as she passed.

“I liked your hair when we first met. I hope they let you grow it out again,” She said. 

Coriolanus nodded, “Me too.” 

They brushed their teeth, both took more quick showers, and Coriolanus dressed in his jumpsuit. Lucy Gray stared at hers, before stubbornly putting her dress back on. She’d washed it last night, so it didn’t smell like it had while they were traveling.

“I know,” She said, catching the frustrated wrinkle of his forehead, “But just one more day with it.” 

Then, they went exploring.

Hand in hand, like any newlywed couple in love ought to look like, exploring what Coriolanus had to think was their new home for the foreseeable future.

While Lucy Gray was looking for places to perform, Coriolanus was charting anything he could… exits, how many guards were near each passage, doors that were unmarked, doors that were marked, and how the military all communicated with each other (verbally and non-verbally). Coriolanus had only today to be a master before he showed up tomorrow morning if he wanted to get ahead.

And, let’s be honest, of course, he did. He didn’t know how to be any other way.

The citizens of District 13, although all eerily similar in their jumpsuits, were very kind to Lucy Gray and Coriolanus - excuse me, to Oleander and Linnett Rose. There was a general excitement that buzzed beneath the surface to see them, something that Coriolanus was cataloging and carefully tucking away.

The meals they had in the cafeteria felt on par with what Coriolanus expected them to be. Bland, filling, and nutritious. 

He’d honestly really take squirrel stew right now. At least there had been some varying flavor there. 

But he understood, sort of. It was hard to exist totally underground. 

Still, there had to be smart people here, right? People who could figure out how to plant some herbs or spices, at the very least? 

Hell, he’d figure it out himself because he was horrified to think that this could be his life from now on, eating boiled potatoes and hardly salted venison among a thousand others dressed exactly like him. 

He and Lucy Gray were also hard to miss as newcomers, but Lucy Gray’s attire just made her stand out even more.

She was using it to her advantage, though. 

As a natural performer, Coriolanus hadn’t thought that she would be someone good at networking, but he supposed that finding places to sing in front of the right people did require some skills he’d assumed she lacked.

When she tried, she was a natural. Which told him that she could have charmed Jackson, she just chose not to.

He wasn’t sure if that made him want to laugh or strangle her. 

She made sure everyone knew their story and it was all straight.

“Yep, my husband and I ran away because our marriage wouldn’t be accepted back there,” She told two girls as they were waiting for lunch. 

“See that man? That’s my husband, Oleander. Isn’t he handsome? Best pick of ‘em all,” She said, winking at him across the way as some citizens greeted her while they wandered around the common area. 

Or, “If you hear anything, I apologize in advance. But we just can’t seem to keep our hands off each other!” To the people who had the misfortune of being their neighbors. 

Well, that last one was true.

Coriolanus wanted her as much as he could, for as long as she’d allow it. 

By the end of their first day, Lucy Gray was already scheming to find ways to sing and be accepted for her signing, and Coriolanus was mapping his future in his mind.

XXX

The next two weeks flew by.

Acclimating to their new schedules and climates was no easy task. District 13 expected its citizens to work, and work hard. Most days, they met up to eat dinner and returned home to fall into bed, each swapping stories about their day, usually falling asleep mid-discussion. 

Rinse, repeat. 

Coriolanus knew this was roughest for Lucy Gray, who had lived fancy-free before this, her only obligation being on stage for her shows. She did tell him that they were expected to practice or write new songs, but Coriolanus hardly thought that could be considered strenuous or time-sensitive, not like her new job was.

She usually returned home, hands red and raw from steaming vegetables or peeling potatoes all day. It also wasn’t very fun, but Coriolanus couldn’t say the same about his job either.

It just felt like surviving, which Coriolanus hoped to change soon.

He was getting along well with the other military members his age, and slowly absorbing the way District 13 ran. He, personally, had some ideas he thought would really liven up this place, but one step at a time.

He’d hardly done anything to climb the ladder in Peacekeeping. He figured with a little extra effort here, he could see some real change in status as soon as the roll of the new year.

What Coriolanus did not expect was to be called in by President Jackson so quickly.

Head held high, he imagined that he’d been seen for his natural prowess and was being raised to the next level of military rank. 

Of course, he’d act gracious and humble, insisting there must be some mistake, but would fold in the end.

That’s what Oleander would do.

He was hardly afraid of Jackson. Gaul had put fear right into his heart…he had never fully trusted her. Crazy couldn’t be reasoned with, and she was most definitely crazy. He hadn’t ever feared Highbottom, despite the fact that Casca could make his life very difficult. Though, Snow had always known he couldn’t take it too far, because otherwise, people would notice. And, up until the games, Coriolanus had been able to easily dodge whatever stupid hurdle HIghbottom had placed in front of him.

And Jackson? 

He may be President by popular vote now, but Coriolanus wouldn’t wait to show these people what a real leader looked like.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” 

“Oleander, please sit. Coffee?” He offered. 

Coriolanus took a cup. He hadn’t drank this since the capitol. It was hard to come by in the Districts. 

He politely sipped, waiting for the lauding to begin.

Instead, Jackson crossed his arms, “I’ve been watching you, Rose,” He said cautiously. Coriolanus sat back. Of course he had, that was Coriolanus’s whole goal. To be noticed. 

“I’ve been watching you and your wife. And I’ve come to a conclusion.” 

“Oh?” Throwing Lucy Gray into the conversation made Coriolanus pause. 

“She’s District, I certainly believe that. But you? You’re not.” He said, wiggling a finger at Coriolanus. 

“I don’t understand?” Coriolanus’s whole illusion with Lucy Gray had been that that he’d been a Peacekeeper, so still district. 

“We both know that while District 2 is better off, you’re no carefully grown Peacekeeper. Naw; I know enough about Panem to know a Capitol boy when I see one.” 

Coriolanus stiffened in his seat before forcing himself to relax.

Jackson was hedging a bet. No reason to confirm it. 

“I think you’re confused-,” 

“Who are you, really?” Jackson asked, sitting across from Coriolanus, “And it’ll be easier if you tell me the truth.” 

Coriolanus opened his mouth to stick to his guns, but Jackson must have seen it on his face.

“Look, probably no one in Panem gives two shits about the girl you’re here with. I’d be surprised if anyone noticed she’s gone. But you? You’re 100% Capitol, and therefore, it’s probably a big deal you’re gone. I bet if I sent scouts out even an inch into Panem, we can figure out who you are right away. So, let me know who I’m truly dealing with.” 

Coriolanus locked his jaw, glaring at Jackson. 

“I don’t care, really, other than needing to be on the side of having knowledge. You can still be Oleander to everyone here. That doesn’t need to change, unless, of course, you choose to not tell me.” Jackson continued. 

Coriolanus weighed his options. 

A good planner knew when he was backed up against a wall. 

“Coriolanus Snow,” Coriolanus replied tersely. Jackson laughed out loud. 

“No shit? You wouldn’t be related to-,” 

“Crassus?” Coriolanus finished dryly, “Dear old dad. Died somewhere between this border and 12’s, if you’re curious, a long time ago.” 

“Huh. Wonders never cease.” Jackson leaned back on his chair, putting his combat boots on the table, “I’m surprised that you’re here, not strangling me. From what I hear…we put the Snows in quite a position after we left Panem, taking all your wealth with us.” 

Cro clenched his fists, “We had money elsewhere.” 

“Not from what I heard,” Jackson said with a too-friendly smile, “I guess I’ll start sleeping with one eye open from now on, though. You sure you’re not here for revenge on us?” 

Coriolanus tried to seem unassuming, “Hadn’t even crossed my mind.” 

“You don’t say. So, why are you here, then?” Jackson asked.

Coriolanus stood, “Same as the last time you asked. For my wife. I love her.” 

Jackson patted his shoulder as he left, “I’d practice saying that last part out loud. Maybe the next time you say it, it will seem like you actually mean it. Good talk, Snow . I’ll be keeping a very curious eye on you. I meant what I said before…I still feel like you can do great things for District 13. Don’t make me regret that.” 

Coriolanus watched him leave the briefing room, and when he unclenched his hands, he’d pressed his nails so deep into his palm he’d drawn blood.

XXX

While Coriolanus took careful mental notes on everyone here, most of all, he counted the children.

Not in some weird, creepy way, but Coriolanus was very aware of the number of children in District 13.

Or, rather, the lack thereof.

If there was one thing he knew from District…the poorer, the more kids that seemed to be produced. More kids to survive to adulthood, more kids to help out with the family, more kids to be Reaped and dilute the pool of possible choices.

God, District 12 had been swarming with kids; all dirty, and matted hair, and grossly underfed. It was even, one may consider, a problem.

But not here.

Here, in District 13, kids were a rarity. 

Before he could voice his theory to Lucy Gray, Snow needed to figure out why . 

Asking around about it wasn’t too hard. He was newly granted salvation within a safe place to exist that included steady meals and warm places to slumber, and he was young and married. Giving faux inquiries into having children in District 13 hardly raised any red flags. 

It was also easy to ask about their general history since the Dark Days. If they were honest about wanting to restart over here, knowing the national annals only made sense, and it made ‘Oleander’ look like he cared.

Which, in a sense, he did.

He just liked having all the cards in his hand before he made a play.

Now, a less educated many may make a sweeping generalization and say that there were so few people, of course, there wouldn’t be that many kids. They wouldn’t think it a moment further. They’d be satisfied with their conclusion.

They’d be wrong.

You see, the numbers - even if the population was pathetic - didn’t account. It wasn’t one or two kids spread over, say, 100 coupled family members. No, it was more like three or four kids amongst 25 families.

That’s what was strange.

There was hardly a single child to see. Always one of multiple.

So, that begged the bigger question; was it by choice? Mutation? Force? Mindwashing? Were couples with kids granted better privileges, therefore encouraging the continuation of the family line? 

These were all the things Coriolanus carefully gathered up over the next few months. 

In doing so, Coriolanus found himself thinking about the merit of children - of having some for himself, not in the general question if kids bettered a society or not (of course they did) - more than he ever had.

He didn’t grow up around kids. He had no young cousins to practice carrying, as some of his classmates did, nor did he have a large extended family anymore in which he may come across such citizens.

He also did not spend time near elementary schools. He had no reason to.

He didn’t find kids bothersome, it was more like he never gave them any thought previously. They didn’t frequent the places he hung out, and apart from crossing paths with families out walking as he made his way to school, his interactions were rather short.

Even the Hunger Games, arguably, though with ‘kids’ weren’t the sort that were here. The most interaction he’d gotten was when he was a Peacekeeper, watching starving toddlers and five-year-olds hope for food, and at most, he’d felt sorry for them.

But even then, he hadn’t considered the possibility himself.

It had always seemed like an eventuality, no stranger thought that it would happen compared to the unavoidable fact that he would grow old or that one-day Grandmaam would die. He had no strong feelings about either of those, to be frank. 

Yes, of course, he imagined he’d marry someone either rich or rich-adjacent, and she’d want kids, and he’d give in and that would simply be that.

No further thoughts.

But now, as he sat in the lunchrooms, watching all the school children line up for their daily meals and as he watched parents come over to kiss their heads as they passed or ask about the first half of their day, Coriolanus found himself weighing the merits more seriously.

The first, obviously, was legacy.

It was why his father had him. Someone to carry on a historic, important name.

Even if Snow was not a ‘Snow’ here, he still carried the weight, the responsibility, and the expectations upon his shoulders.

While any child he sired here, naturally, would not be able to take on the ‘Snow’ name in public, it didn’t mean that his legacy was gone.

No…Coriolanus had a feeling that one day, the last name ‘Rose’ here would be just as awe-worthy as his former surname. And that deserved people to lead it on, even after he was long gone.

Heirs.

He found himself imagining passing along all his knowledge to a little him, someone just as clever and eager. He thought about how he’d teach his son or daughter how to read books and how to read people, how to charm friends as well as enemies, and how to fight for what you wanted in life.

Moreover, he found himself contemplating having kids with Lucy Gray.

That was the strangest thing.

In all his previous musings on children, his wife’s face had been wiped from thoughts, as though she didn’t exist. Because it hadn’t previously mattered. He had never imagined marrying for love (not that, he would argue, he was married for love currently). He had always thought it would be an arranged marriage or someone he could just barely stand, but he’d be lying to admit that Lucy Gray was far more than a means to an end concerning legacies and the such.

Sometimes, his thoughts went in strange directions and he wondered if any child they produced would have his stark white hair, or if they’d take on Lucy Gray’s long dark curls. Would they sing like her? Would she teach them lullabies to help them soothe themselves to sleep? Would their laugh bounce off the halls like hers did? 

Sometimes, Coriolanus wanted to shake himself silly for falling for such lines of questioning. 

Other times, he turned off his brain and just allowed himself these thoughts, too great in meaning than he was ready to admit. 

XXX

Time crept on, and soon enough, they’d been there a whole turn of a season. Coriolanus could feel the upward chills, even down here. People were allotted sweaters to combat the chills that seeped through the floors and the walls, and Coriolanus couldn’t help but smirk at thinking that soon the world above would be blanketed with snow. 

He had fit swimmingly into his role. It wasn’t hard. He’d surpassed expectations as a Peacekeeper and frankly, this was much of the same. He was hardly exerting any effort, which was good, since all his energies were needed to unravel the web of political and social connections. 

Already, he was planting seeds of higher ranks in people’s thoughts, hoping to be brought up the ladder before his first year was out.

From there? Well, the first step was always the most difficult. Everything after would just be easier and easier.

That’s the funny thing about power; one may imagine that it was so difficult to grasp at the very top. In actuality, the hard thing was getting your foot in the door. Once you’ve managed that, power hung in places quite easy to grasp…if you knew exactly where to look.

Lucy Gray was finding the transition more difficult. For as stubborn as Coriolanus knew he could be sometimes, he’d really met his match with his wife. She didn’t know when to comply for her own good, sometimes, but then again…he admired her for her moxie. 

She had a quiet strength to her, something that he was just about noticing, that had been vital in keeping her alive in the Hunger Games and keeping her alive now. 

Besides, he was starting to consider that marrying someone with no backbone, who would have submitted to his every wish, would have been dreadfully boring.

Lucy Gray was seeking more from life than District 13 could offer, and they both knew that. She needed some vibrant and breathing, and District 13 felt half a foot from death. Even though she knew it was necessary to live here, Lucy Gray’s opinion of it was clear. 

“I can’t believe these people don’t have a hall to sing!” Lucy Gray complained, just the newest in her list of grievances, “It’s like they’ve never partied before!” 

“They haven’t,” Coriolanus snorted, having just been present at a District 13 wedding. Sure, their wedding outside had been fake and nothing special, but it was leagues above in feeling and livelihood than what he’d witnessed. You wouldn’t have even thought the bride and groom were pleased to be married to one another, or anyone was happy for them at all! 

“How does an entire community forget to live?” Lucy Gray continued, “It’s insane!” 

Coriolanus shrugged, “Survival and thriving are two very different things.” 

“Well, that’s not good enough for me. I want to thrive. I don’t want to spend my days like a damn dead body, just punching in and punching out.” 

Neither did Coriolanus, but he didn’t say anything. 

Instead, what he thought, was that when he was high enough in power, he could change all that. 

Life without living wasn’t much fun at all. 

“It’s pragmatic,” He tried to explain. They were held tightly to their food, needs, and wants because they didn’t have much extra. 

“There has to be other ways,” Lucy Gray said, furiously scrubbing her daily tattoo from her arm, “I’m going to go sing tonight!” 

“Are you?” Coriolanus raised an eyebrow. All her previous attempts had been thwarted. 

“Korbin said it himself; what I do in my free time is my business. Can’t stop me.” 

Coriolanus sipped his tea without saying anything.

“What?” She demanded. 

“They can, and they will,” He said simply, “If they want to.” 

“Fucking hell, Coriolanus, you’re meant to be on my side!” Lucy Gray stomped her foot, “Remember our wedding vows?” 

“Blindly agreeing with you was never one of the requirements,” Coriolanus said, put off at her current childish display, “I’m playing devil’s advocate.” 

“I don’t need the devil. I spend enough time with him as it is,” Lucy Gray said pointedly, and Coriolanus couldn’t help but hide a smirk as he lifted his mug, “In public, I need my husband to back me up.” 

Coriolanus sighed, relenting. 

“What do you need?” 

Lucy Gray carried her weight between each ball of her foot, weighing the question, “Just be there.” 

Coriolanus considered her request, “Sure. I can do that.” 

He missed her singing. It would be nice to hear it again.

XXX

Coriolanus watched Lucy Gray drag a microphone to the front of the communal space, where people were chatting quietly and politely with each other. He caught sight of her with her sweater tied around her waist, her jumpsuit pushed up to her elbows, and he couldn’t help but grin.

It was the ones she’d painted.

Korbin had nearly had a conniption when he’d seen that. She’d taken scraps from the kitchen and bought supplies from the general store to accomplish this, and she argued that nothing she used wouldn’t have been thrown out anyway.

She was clever enough to make damn sure that he couldn’t yell at her for that.

And, she continued, it never said anywhere that she couldn’t do this to her uniform. Coriolanus had a feeling Korbin was going to make it a law now, but Coriolanus liked the idea of Lucy Gray defying rules enough to necessitate creation.

Something about that just tickled him.

Besides, it was stunning. Her creativity did not simply end with her voice.

Feathers, wind, and Mockingjay painted all up and down her uniform in a swirl of vibrant, unmistakable colors. 

Her departure from the norm, standing up there in that, was enough to turn a few heads.

Lucy Gray called it marketing to her audience. 

“Hi ya’ll, you might not know me yet, or maybe you do. It’s been really nice of you to take us poor souls in. I’m Linnett Rose and I’ve loved being here for the last few months,” Lucy Gray started, leaning into the microphone and giggling, gathering the attention of anyone not already looking, “Now, I’d like to thank you for your generosity with a song or two, if that’s alright with you?” 

Blank, confused faces turned towards Lucy Gray. Coriolanus snickered into his hand, watching as Lucy Gray took their silence with grace.

“Hmm, tough crowd tonight, but that’s okay,” She said, “Now, usually I’d have a whole band up here behind me, see. And my guitar. So you’ll have to excuse me for the version I’m able to give y’all, but I hope you’ll still enjoy it.” 

She began to stamp her feet, a familiar beat that Coriolanus recognized from one of her previous sets. He hadn’t heard her write anything new since arriving here, obviously not overly inspired by her current life. 

The reaction to her singing was…lukewarm. No, there was a ripple of enjoyment, Coriolanus could tell. He could see the small signs- people wanting to enjoy it, their bodies yearning to breathe into the rhythm and let go, but not knowing how.

“Let’s see some dancing!” Lucy Gray encouraged, “Song is always best with a little toe-tapping. It’s real easy, just let the music sway you!” She said, “See, like this! Just breathe with it. You’re the wind. I know ya’ll don’t get much of that down here, but I know that song is inside all of us!” 

No one got up and moved publicly, but Coriolanus watched some toes begin to tap in time, or fingers drum on the table, or heads begin to bob in rhythm to Lucy Gray’s next song. 

The people wanted everything Lucy Gray wanted; they wanted whimsy, they wanted life, they wanted joy, but they’d been told for so long they could afford it that no one knew how.

Maybe it wouldn’t be Coriolanus to really change things…maybe it would be Lucy Gray to shake things up around here.

As Coriolanus was contemplating that very abrupt thought, that maybe the one behind the power wouldn’t be him, not the way he imagined it, Korbin appeared at his table. He held a crisp glass of water in his palm; District 13, as far as Coriolanus knew, didn’t have alcohol. 

Damn shame that too.

Maybe that would get people dancing. 

“See, told you she could sing like the angels,” Coriolanus said, a haughty proud smile on his face. As he spoke, he wasn’t sure where Oleander ended and Coriolanus began, or how much of that satisfaction glowed within his own chest and wasn't just what a good husband ought to say.  

“I never said she couldn’t. All I said was that we don’t have much use for that here.” 

“I’d disagree,” Coriolanus said curtly, “People need more to live for. They need…” He stared out at the people leaning into her music, eager, “...Hope. Just a little to live for. Or else why bother?” 

Korbin stared down at Coriolanus with the most curious expression, “We’re all for a bigger cause, Oleander. District 13 isn’t much about individualism.” 

“So it shouldn’t matter?” Coriolanus shot back, “People should fall in line, never question, never want more?” 

“Wanting more is dangerous,” Korbin argued in a low tone, “We can’t go above ground. We can’t have what Panem has. We can’t afford people to start wanting things they can never have.” 

“I never said you had to give it to them,” Coriolanus said, leaning in, pressing his weight on his forearms, “You just have to give them the illusion it could happen.” 

It’s what he’d clung to his entire life; the thought that maybe, if he worked hard enough, he could get the Plinth Prize and save his family. It’s what Lucy Gray had fought for; if she pushed enough, she could make it through the Hunger Games. It’s what everyone he knew was doing…clawing, tooth and nail, for that one, bright, shining star of a lucky change of fate.

He was mature enough to know most would never get there.

But, the world certainly never stopped to let people know that. 

And there was genius in that. 

Gaul had known that. It’s why she tied the Prize to being the best Game Maker.

“If you want real change, give people the idea that something they want is in their grasp,” Coriolanus said, leaning back in his chair, watching Lucy Gray, “And you’ll see it.” 

“I know how to lead my people, son.” 

Coriolanus swallowed back a snort. If you had to tell people that, it was categorically false. 

It made Coriolanus‘s life so much easier; his path to power was clearing in front of him, like someone wiping their hand across a fresh snow, to find the cobblestone path underneath.

And Korbin was just handing it to him on a platter.

“Life finds a way wherever you go,” Coriolanus said as his final statement, now more sure of it than ever. 

He wondered how long it would be until people began following Lucy Gray and decorating their own jumpsuits in extra embroidered thread, similar paintings, or hair ribbons as closures. 

And, if Korbin was a leader who knew what he was doing, he’d let them.

However, Coriolanus hoped for his own sake and his future presidency, he’d be too tightfisted and try to quash it.

His chances of this were good. Korbin hated Coriolanus for a name and a father he didn’t even know, and Coriolanus bet all his meager wages that he’d do anything to piss Coriolanus off, including going against ‘advice’. 

Coriolanus wondered how difficult it would be to have Lucy Gray encourage freedom of expression, such as to get her fellow kitchen ladies to try their hand at modifying their jumpsuits. 

Coriolanus drank his water, wishing it was moonshine. Someone here had to know how to make it, didn’t they? 

Anyway, Coriolanus considered if he put real effort toward it, he could probably get it a fashionable thing going in about six months. Maybe three if he truly had Lucy Gray helping him.

And Korbin would crack down on it, becoming the bad guy in history.

It just depended on how early Coriolanus wanted him unseated. 

No, better to hold off. Coriolanus needed to know who the next front-runner was before he really began in earnest. Coriolanus wasn’t arrogant enough to think that a year of residence here made him eligible in the hearts and minds of District 13 citizens to become their next President. 

That would take years. Years Coriolanus was very fine with waiting.

Rather, he needed to know if the next likely president was going to be of any use to him, or if Coriolanus would need to undermine him the way he was slowly digging the hole underneath Korbin.

While any President of 13 was theoretically his enemy, it didn’t mean that some seat-warmers couldn’t be of service to his final plans. 

However, Coriolanus knew that he could go into work tomorrow, raving about his wife’s brilliant performance or how beautiful her painting was, and not seem at all plotting or manipulative for it. 

In fact, he should, as a husband, laud his wife.

And he’d boast about how they barely slept at all last night because they were too busy celebrating. 

Why, don’t you want that for your wives? Don’t you want to be too tired to work, because your wives feel so fulfilled that they basically press you into the bed, begging for another, and another, and another, until your limbs are deadwights and you can’t think of anything but slumber? 

“My wife is something else,” Coriolanus said with a low whistle, “Isn't she, Mr. President?” 

As though she could hear his low tone over the wide expanse, Lucy Gray turned, winking at Coriolanus in the corner as she leaned into the microphone. 

“Now, for my last song here, I wanna sing something special for ya’ll…it’s a song for my husband in the Coriolanusner, called ‘Pure as Driven Snow’. I know you probably aren’t lucky enough to see snow but trust me…” She caught his eye, grinning mischievously, “It’s really something else. I'm a lucky son of a gun to get to witness snow in its true form.” 

Coriolanus grinned openly, pride catching fire deep in his chest, rising to make him feel seen. Seen in a way he didn't think anyone ever would, without reservations, without subterfuge, without hiding. 

Even Tigris hadn't known every facet of him. 

Lucy Gray saw the worst of him and she was still here.

Wasn't that something truly incredible? 

Out of all the people he could be stuck with, in a fake marriage, somehow…he wasn’t displeased it was Lucy Gray Baird. 

Somewhere, he knew that meant something bigger than he was ready to admit out loud.

Chapter Text

Coriolanus slammed Lucy Gray against the wall of their room, the door to their unit barely banging shut behind them.

“You were brilliant,” He groaned against her lips, fingers knotting in her inky black curls, tugging her upward, bringing her mouth to his.

He was desperate and needy. 

Lucy Gray’s fingers were tugging the buttons undone on his jumpsuit, pushing it down to fall against his hips, the coolness of her fingers making him gasp as she trailed them up his chest. 

“Is this all I gotta do to get you like this?” She breathed with a grin, “Sing a few pretty verses, lover?” 

Coriolanus ignored her tease, biting down on her lip, just a hair away from drawing blood. Enough to make her yelp in surprise, and shiver in his arms.

He took a moment to separate them, enough to yank off her jumpsuit, though he took gentle care not to crack or break the paintings on her attire, knowing she would be furious if he did.

Lucy Gray helped him peel off her clothes, kicking them onto their floor, and shoving his pants down too. 

“Coriolanus…” She whispered, pressing her head against the wall, tilting it back as she showed her neck to him. 

He took it as an invitation to bite down on her collarbone, leaving an imprint of his jaws against her unblemished skin. Satisfaction rose within him, and he imagined her full of his teeth marks, coloring her body like garish Capitol tattoos. 

The thought made him want her even more. 

Could he have unknowingly stumbled into the best of both worlds?

Could he get his power, that need for greatness, and the girl…all simultaneously?

Fuck; he would have left for District 13 much sooner if he’d known that he could have skipped all those tiresome months as a Peacekeeper, the lowest of the low, groveling for scraps. 

He grasped underneath Lucy Gray’s thighs, holding her legs apart as he pushed into her, reveling at the tiny gasp she made. 

“I bet no one here fucks like we do,” He said with a quiet laugh, “All too proper for it, huh? Well, let’s give them a real show,” He said, noticing how Lucy Gray bit her lip to keep from making noise.

That just wouldn’t do.

He didn’t mind the thought that everyone in their hall would know exactly what they were up to. In fact, he liked the idea of others seeing Lucy Gray as his, happily and fully satisfied. 

When Lucy Gray shook her head, a gleam of challenge in her eyes, Coriolanus withdrew himself and spun her around, pressing her against the cold wall.

He grasped her hair in a fist, entering her again without warning. 

Lucy Gray let out a sound, the air escaping her lips. 

“You like it rough, don’t you?” Coriolanus whispered in her ear, one of his hands grasping her hips to hold her exactly in the right position. 

“Seems like you’re projecting,” Lucy Gray bit out, turning her head over her shoulder to look at him with heavy-lidded eyes. 

“I’m not making an effort to hide that,” Coriolanus chuckled, “I never have.” 

He watched Lucy Gray’s eyes glaze over as he hit a particularly sensitive spot, far up inside of her, and quicked his pace. 

“Do you want to come?” Coriolanus asked her, fingers snaking around to the crux of her legs. Lucy Gray didn’t answer, but her legs quivered and he could hear the increase in her breaths as she tried to stay steady, “I asked you a question, wife.” He continued with a low, dark chuckle, rubbing her clit with his forefinger, achingly, teasingly. 

Lucy Gray gave one sharp, quick nod. 

“Ask me, and I’ll be merciful,” He said, biting her ear lobe, and he could feel the shiver run up her spine. 

“Please,” Lucy Gray whispered, but Coriolanus cut her off. 

“Awe, you can do better than that.” 

“Coriolanus, please get me off,” Lucy Gray said, rolling her eyes, but Coriolanus could feel the need pulsing between her legs. 

“Was that so hard?” He asked, increasing his pace until she was moaning into the wall. 

Coriolanus finished not long after.

He stepped away, spying how his cum ran down her legs and licked his lips at the thought of that. Lucy Gray turned, fluffing her hair, and raised an eyebrow.

“That all?” She asked with a mild laugh. 

Coriolanus blinked. “What?” 

She pushed him back until he landed against their bed. Lucy Gray crawled over his body until she was hovering above him. 

“I get that men are at a lesser advantage, having the ability to only come once and all, but you’ve started this. I expect you get me off at least two more times,” Lucy Gray said. 

“That might be a bit difficult, as you pointed out a moment ago,” Coriolanus said with a raised eyebrow, a bit taken aback at her forwardness. 

“Oh, darlin’, there’s no one to sweet-talk here, so you’re silver tongue can find a better use, don’t you think?” Lucy Gray asked. Coriolanus understood at once, snorting, but couldn’t stop the grin from creeping onto his face.

“Anything for you, Mrs. Rose,” He agreed, grasping her legs and pulling her up towards his face, “But you’re going to regret it. I’ll have you come so many times that you’ll be sore for days.”

Lucy Gray grasped the headboard, gasping at the first contact, “Now, Coriolanus, that sure as hell better be a promise.” 

XXX

Time crawled by.

Before he knew it, nine months had elapsed, and he felt like all he’d done was blink.

Coriolanus tried not to be frustrated at the passage of time, and he tried not to imagine how his life would be if he had gotten the Plinth Prize like he was so deserving of, and had done away with the entire Hunger Games hubbub to begin with.

He thought that he’d be just about finishing up his first year at the Academy by now.

Top of his class, no doubt.

He would have already charmed any professor that didn’t know him.

Perhaps he would have been noticed by Gaul still, invited on for his cleverness.

He had, of course, made the games into the spectacle that made this past year so incredible.

He didn’t think much about the Games itself until one day, Lucy Gray, out of nowhere said; “Bout time for another reaping.” 

At first, he was so far removed from talk of the Hunger Games, he was sure she was talking about crops and plant life and was very confused, because their meager plants weren’t due for a bit now, here in 13.

And then, it hit him.

“The Hunger Games?” He asked, squinting. 

“Yeah. Some other poor pair of kids are being carted off to their deaths today or so,” Lucy Gray said thoughtfully, “Unless you think they were stopped.” 

“No, never,” Coriolanus said automatically, a knee-jerk reaction. The Capitol would only stop if forced, but there was no reason to. 

It was hard to read Lucy Gray’s reaction.

“Shame.” 

He wondered if she was trying to think through all the District 12 kids, and trying to imagine which she could do without, but, she didn’t really bring it up again.

Talking about Hunger Games again made Coriolanus think about someone he’d tried his best to jettison from his mind…Tigris.

It wasn’t due to malice, instead, his chest felt funny to think too hard about his cousin, wondering how she was fairing.

Likely, not well.

In his more nostalgic moments where it seemed he lost his good sense, Coriolanus would pretend to write to her.

Inwardly, he thought it as a way to collect his thoughts.

He knew, realistically, these letters would never be sent. And, even if they were, he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear her response on the other end.

Still, the idea that it could be sent, ignoring the embargo to the other Districts and the secrecy of 13, made him write with a sort of honesty that perhaps he wouldn’t otherwise, like that it might one day be taken from his hands, flown all the way down to the Capitol, and Tigris may call him out on his lies otherwise.

He wrote things like:

Being married to Lucy Gray actually isn’t so bad.

Or:

Sometimes I worry about what would have happened if I had stayed.

And maybe:

I think I miss you. Not for what you could do for me, but I miss you for who you were. 

And finally, the most blasphemous of all: 

Sometimes, I have dreams about living here, with Lucy Gray, forever. And in these dreams, I find I’m happy.

…I want to be happy.

His fingers wrote that last one before he knew what was happening, and he furiously scratched it out, as though the words would leap out and threaten everything he’d built.

And then he tore the letter, the first time, and hid the scraps in his dresser drawer, worried that the truth would haunt him if he let it live.

XXX

“What are you thinkin’ about?”

Lucy Gray was sprawled on their white bed sheets, not a stitch of clothing on her, her own personal rebellion. 

If she couldn’t wear her colorful things, fine. She’d wear nothing at all.

Of course, in the safety of their own home, Coriolanus was sure that the people of District 13 would still find it blasphemous to even imagine.

Of course, Coriolanus was quite pleased with this view. She’d caught him staring; he focused his gaze on her, from the hazy way he’d been examining her, fingers rubbing against one another like he did when he was deep in thought. 

“Nothing much,” He said honestly. His thoughts were jumbled and cluttered and not easily navigable. It wasn’t worth explaining that to Lucy Gray.

“Mhh,” Lucy Gray rolled over, “Did you hear about Tawny?” 

“The other cook you talk with?” Coriolanus asked, frowning, recalling the dark-haired girl in the edges of his memory. He committed names to memory, not people, exactly. He just needed the illusion that he was becoming one with District 13ers, not that he actually cared about their personal lives.

It was amazing what a little retention could do; a well-placed, ‘Oh, how’s Tommy getting on!’ or ‘Isn’t your daughter just starting fifth grade?’, and instantly, you had people eating out of the palm of your hand, blustering with pride, thinking that they were important to you. 

It was all a facade. 

But Coriolanus focused. He had a feeling that whatever Lucy Gray was about to tell him would be useful, and he’d update his mental list accordingly. 

You never started a conversation with ‘Did you hear about xy and z’ when you were regaling something utterly pedestrian, like that they’d eaten pork over chicken for lunch unless it was something like they had a vendetta against chicken in particular.

Anyway, he was getting off track, and he caught only the end of Lucy Gray’s news.

“-gant.” 

Coriolanus blinked twice, not wanting to ask her to repeat herself because she’d be upset. He knew that he had a tendency to let his mind wander, and honestly, he was trying not to ignore her lately. He found Lucy Gray more survivable than most, which was convenient since they were tied together until the foreseeable future.

Still, he wasn’t perfect, and he knew that.

Slowly, he stitched together the best guess he had and ventured, “She’s pregnant?” 

“Yep, I guess she’s been trying for a while,” Lucy Gray said, nodding, none the wiser he’d taken a shot in the dark. Well, not a shot in the dark. An educated guess. 

Pregnancy was always newsworthy. 

Especially around here.

“Korbin come by to congratulate her personally yet?” He asked with a sarcastic snort.

“Now, I don’t know why you’re like that,” Lucy Gray said, furrowing her eyebrows in frustration. Coriolanus blinked.

“Like what?” 

“A child is always a blessing.” 

“Sure, but especially to Korbin. It couldn’t be more obvious that the way to be irreplaceable is to prove you're fertile and willing,” He said distastefully, ignoring the fact he’d been thinking about having children himself more and more frequently.

His children would be held to different standards, of course.

“You say it like it’s some big secret, some big conspiracy.”

“Well,” Coriolanus said, leaning forward, “If he really wanted to be clever, he’d be less obvious about it. It’s a terrible tell.” 

Lucy Gray sat up, pulling the sheets around her, “God, Coriolanus, you gotta be the smartest person in the room at all times, don’t you?” She asked, her words laced with venom.

Coriolanus blinked, uncomprehendingly, “I usually am.” 

“Oh, fuck off!” She stood, grasping her clothing, “I’m dead serious, Coriolanus.” 

“What have I said to upset you?” Coriolanus asked, still confused. 

“You’re so desperate for some scheme, some…grand plan!” Lucy Gray waved her hands around, “Do you think that perhaps people just have wills and wants and they aren’t carefully navigated at every turn?”

“Sure, I believe that of Korbin. He’s a right idiot.” Coriolanus said, “Any good politician is thinking of these things though.” Coriolanus stood to stop her, “The population will die out soon, without help. Too few genetics, too many infertility issues. He basically could hold a neon sign saying that you could have six kids and commit murder and probably get away with it.” He snorted.

Lucy Gray held her jaw taut, “Only you would think of the worst thing like that,” She muttered, “Why can’t you just say you’re happy for Tawny like everyone else would?” 

“Because I’m not like them,” Coriolanus said, lifting her chin to kiss her, “And I think you’d be bored of a quiet, average husband,” He said, “Good for her,” He added as an afterthought.

It would be interesting to see how her quality of life changed with such a predicament, and he’d use the data for his thoughts.

“Oh, no, what are you thinkin’ now?” Lucy Gray huffed. 

Coriolanus bit the inside of his cheek. He figured that Lucy Gray would not take kindly to the idea of her, possibly, favorite friend being used as a data set.

Instead, Coriolanus went with something that could be considered more dangerous, but still something he’d been mulling over nonetheless. 

“I’m surprised you’re not pregnant yet,” He said, pulling her against him, “You must have some luck on your side with how ravenous I am for you,” He said, inhaling the scent wafting from her hair.

Lucy Gray laughed out loud, “Luck has nothing to do with it, darlin’.” 

Coriolanus tilted his head, “You’re that good at tracking your cycle?” He knew of that method, but usually, it wasn’t very predictable, especially for the lower districts, and with all their upheaval it seemed like quite a hard thing to keep track of.

“No, silly. I’m sure Tigris would know exactly what I’m talking about.” 

Coriolanus visibly shuddered, “I don’t want to imagine her having sex.” 

Lucy Gray rolled her eyes and went over to her dresser drawer and took out a tin. Of course, Coriolanus had noticed it, but had never given it much thought beyond that it existed in his space.

She shook it lightly, before opening the lid, “Helps to make sure nothing takes root,” She said, and she let him take a deep whiff of the dried plant matter, something that he recognized, but not that he’d ever drunk, “A little goes a long way, and it’s effective enough.” 

“Is that safe?” Coriolanus asked, and Lucy Gray just threw her head back.

“Oh, Coriolanus, ladies part of generations far up your family tree have used this, and quite well might I add. It’ll do its job and nothing more.” She shook it, “It’s fine.” 

“What happens when it dries up your stash?” Coriolanus asked, calculating that she had another year, maybe two before it was gone. It was a relief, he considered, not to worry that she might be pregnant, month to month. It gave him time to enjoy her fully, without the constant nagging of children, even if he did want them later.

“I don’t know,” Lucy Gray said, biting her lip, “We both know that if I went to the medical wing and asked for contraceptives, they wouldn’t give it. I will give you that one…they are desperate for kids.” 

“I’m sure they’re wondering why we haven’t added to their little cult yet, huh?” 

“I’m sure, but it’s not one’s business, so,” Lucy Gray said snappishly, and Coriolanus knew she’d nearly bite the head off anyone who even tried asking, and make a point of it right away that it wasn’t something she was answering. 

“Do you…” The question hung on Coriolanus’s lips, “Want…kids?” 

“Oh, Coriolanus, I’m far too young and far too weary for a question like that today,” She said honestly, “I’d rather just enjoy this for what it is, wouldn’t you?” 

Coriolanus took the tin, carefully wedging it back in her drawer, “Of course,” He said, without reservation, “I still think Korbin has a bigger plan, though. We should watch out.” 

Lucy Gray brushed the hair away from his forehead, “Sure, lover,” She said, a bit unbelieving, “We should really think of a baby gift for Tawny.” 

Coriolanus dipped his head, “If you insist.” 

XXX

There was a commotion in the training hall. 

Coriolanus was sitting, eating lunch with the rest of his squad, when suddenly, everyone was running.

“Shit, we’d better get up there!” One of his fellow army men said, eyes wild, grasping Coriolanus’s arm and pulling him through the gathered, frantic people. 

Coriolanus broke through to see two army members going at it, rolling on the ground in a full-out brawl, throwing sloppy punches and screaming bloody murder at each other.

Coriolanus quickly took in that they were the first few on the scene. 

“Get the civilians back!” Coriolanus barked, taking control, “And someone go grab the Colonel!” He snarled. 

Ripples waved and people followed his command, most just grateful someone was doing something. 

“Grab him with me!” Coriolanus said, pulling the man into the fray that had pulled him into this, away from his lunch. 

He waited for a break and leaped in, trying to get between the two adult men.

A kick to his gut knocked the wind out of him, and he coughed up stale air as he stumbled back. 

“Robinson! Nolen!” Coriolanus spat furiously, trying to grasp the two men’s arms to throw them apart. Robinson managed to claw at Nolen’s belt, breaking it off and sending it across the cold, hard floor. Coriolanus tried to grab it and gripped the end before it went far underneath a low table, unlikely to be seen for quite a while. 

“I’ll kill you!” Robinson was screaming, “I’ll tear your insides out, I’ll rip you limb from limb!” 

“She came to me! Because you’re not man enough for her!” 

“You’re dead! You’re so dead!” 

“Oh, no,” Lee groaned from beside Coriolanus, but he didn’t understand, not immediately. When he turned, confused, holding Nolen’s utility belt in his hand, Lee winced, “He slept with his wife, man.” 

Understanding dawned on Coriolanus.

God, what idiots. 

Still, he needed to separate this too. Luckily, most of the other military workers had pushed everyone else away, leaving just a few trying to figure out how to subdue these two. 

“Let’s go for Nolen,” Coriolanus said. Easiest solution? Take the object away from the child throwing a tantrum. 

“Let’s go! And try to keep your dick in your pants. Think you can handle that?” Coriolanus sneered as he pulled Nolen out of the fight, helping him up. Nolen was bleeding from his face, and it would bruise terribly- he’d be puffy beyond hell tomorrow, and he’d be lucky if he wasn’t thrown out for something like this. Both of them, “Hell, I hope she was worth it.” He muttered under his breath. 

Lee was pulling Robinson away. The cuckolded man was rubbing his split knuckles, a furious, dark look on his face.

“You know what? Fine; take my whore of a wife. Two terrible people deserve each other. She’s a cunt anyway.” Robinson said, throwing up his middle finger, and spinning sharply on his heels.

Nolen started to break away, too quick for Coriolanus to realize what was happening.

He turned around a moment too late, arm reaching out to grasp for Nolen. All he managed was a choked warning to Lee, but they were caught by surprise too.

Robinson went down hard.

The sound of his head hitting the concrete was sickening.

Even worse was the sound of Nolen picking his skull back up and slamming it down again.

“Fuck!” 

Lee vomited, having never seen true savagery in his life. Sure, District 13 was prepared for anything, but running through war scenarios and seeing the worst of mankind were two very different things.

Luckily, Coriolanus was unbothered and desensitized from it all.

The things he’d seen during the Dark Days would never be as bad as literally anything else in this world. Even when he came close enough for flecks of Robinson’s gray matter to speckle his cheek and neck, Coriolanus felt nothing.

He wondered, idly, if Lucy Gray felt the same, due to the Hunger Games. 

“Alright, you’re done,” Coriolanus snarled coldly, hauling Nolen up, the man’s hand bright red and dripping. 

Even if he had a questionable moral compass, killing in this way was so…inhumane. So messy.

Coriolanus knew that Lucy Gray would surely make a joke about how he didn’t like getting his hands dirty. 

Not that he’d gotten his hands ‘dirtied’ with anyone since he got here.

Maybe she’d be pleased that this death wasn’t at his hand.

Though, somewhere deep down- that part that thought of Sejanus- he felt a bit responsible for not realizing what was happening quickly. 

Things happened quickly after that.
District 13 had no room for such violent, such disrespect among its members.

Mrs. Robinson lost both her husband and her lover that day; her husband dead on the scene and Nolen sent out with only two matches, a loaf of bread, and a single egg, cast out into the inky darkness that gave no comforts. 

Most of Nolen’s gear was found, but his gun was unaccounted for. Of course, they scoured the whole place, especially where Coriolanus had kept the kit from going under the shelving units, but so such luck.

“It’ll turn up,” Korbin said tiredly, “It has to.” 

That, yes, Coriolanus knew to be wholly true.

Coriolanus worked a double shift without complaint, knowing that the entire district was shaken up. Murder was practically unheard of. Most citizens were allowed to be released from work and go hide back in their rooms. Coriolanus felt a sliver of pride to see Lucy Gray still working, refusing to leave. 

“People still need to be fed,” She said when Coriolanus asked if she wanted to go home. 

They shared a look; both had lived too much life to be spooked by something like this.

Finally, Colonel Peard called Coriolanus into his office.

“I’m told you took charge, Rose, at the start.” 

Coriolanus took off his hat. In the dingy mirror, he caught his reflection. Dried blood painted his skin like freckles since he hadn’t a chance to wash off yet.

Peard noticed his thinking, and must have mistaken it for disgust or that he was bothered because he was handed a wet towel.

Coriolanus went through the motions of wiping the blood from his skin, but all he could think about was the way that Billy Taupe bled out in front of him what felt like eons ago, or how Bobbin’s head had cracked, not dissimilar to Robinson’s. 

He thought of the blood. Not in a horrified sort of manner, but just of its quality; the color, the smell, the way it soaked into the ground there, but wouldn’t here. The way it just…pooled.

“Someone had to,” Coriolanus finally answered the unasked question, “It was mayhem.” 

“Yes, someone did. I’m glad that you were able to jump into action so quickly. I imagine perhaps there’s some experience from before.” 

Coriolanus tilted his head. He was unsure if Korbin had told anyone of his true identity, but it seemed that Peard was genuine, just making a general guess.

So he nodded, not offering more than needed. He could play the shell-shocked kid trying to forget about his past well enough. 

“Go home, Rose. You must be exhausted,” Peard finally said, “And just know that your efforts will not be forgotten.” 

Excitement beat fast in Coriolanus’s chest, though he tried not to get ahead of himself, “Thank you, sir.” 

Lucy Gray had been released by the time he got home. She wasn’t shivering or crying, just sitting at the kitchen table, mindlessly chopping some vegetables, staring out blankly ahead. 

“You alright?” 

Lucy Gray was startled, turning to see Coriolanus enter. 

“What a waste of life,” She said, shaking her head, angrily, “How stupid of them both.” 

Coriolanus snorted. They were very much in agreement. 

“You know?” Lucy Gray continued, tilting her head, “I think killing someone is such a cowardly way out.” 

Coriolanus frowned, “What do you mean?” 

“I’m just saying,” Lucy Gray continued chopping their dinner up, almost conversationally, like they were discussing the uptick in temperature lately inside the caves, “It’s so boring too. I just can’t help but think less of ‘em.” She met Coriolanus’s gaze, almost knowingly, a glimmer in her eyes that he couldn’t quite place, “There are many more ways to torture someone than killing them and getting it over with. Just seems so…easy.” 

Coriolanus tried to hold back a snort, having a hard time thinking of Lucy Gray in this way. 

Still, her words rolled around the back of his head, as he thought of the meaning behind her words. He sat, finding himself lost in it, in the ideas, so much more satisfying than merely ending a life.

“Also,” Lucy Gray said, turning, the knife loose in her fingers, “If you ever cheat on me, I’ll chop your dick off in your sleep, and no one will ever know if was me.” 

Coriolanus was almost charmed by her threat, “Noted, wife.” 

Late that night, after curfew, when Lucy Gray was fast asleep, Coriolanus went back to the room where it happened.

He stood, staring at the place where the blood hadn’t been fully cleaned away, trying to trace back the fight.

He looked under the shelf again, just to be sure, but didn’t think he’d find the gun there.

He went to stand in the middle again.

He thought about the limbs, and how they all flailed and fought, and about how Robinson had been kicking.

Then, on a careful whim, he went in the opposite direction.

Yes, this shelf unit had also been checked, but Coriolanus dug his hand so far underneath that he was worried it would crush his palm.

And then, he felt it; the metal curve of something solid and cold.

Carefully, knowing it could go off at any moment, he eeked it out and into his palm.

Nolen’s missing firearm sat in his hand, loaded.

He weighed his options.

Take this to Korbin or Peard now, and he may push along his promotion. Prove himself as part of District 13.

A smile curled on Coriolanus’s lips.

He wasn’t kidding anyone, and certainly not himself.

He put the gun in the back of his belt loop, arranged his shirt over it, and crept back home.

Then, he buried the gun in his drawer.

One could never be too careful. 

XXX

At their two-year mark in District 13, Coriolanus and Lucy Gray were allowed time outside.

It was all too brief, and quite the luxury, but nothing either would say ‘no’ to all the same.

Coriolanus was smart enough to know that it was a test; would they run away at the first sign of getting out of there, or would they stay? 

“God, I missed this,” Lucy Gray moaned, flopping in the soft grass and mosses, “It’s far too cold down there, for me, so lifeless.” 

“I know, dear.” 

“You think a little tree would kill them,” She continued, “I don’t get how I can be properly inspired down there.

“Want to run away?” Coriolanus asked teasingly. She opened one eye.

“Haven’t we already?” 

After they both enjoyed the feeling of sun on their cheeks for a brief moment, they went off, foraging. 

Lucy Gray sent him a list of herbs to find, dedicated to making their own meals they were allotted at home slightly more flavorful. 

She wasn’t sure how it would grow without real sun, but they did have simulated sun, so it was worth a try. 

In his foraging, Coriolanus came across a plant that was not on her list, but he was drawn to all the same. 

Hemlock.

Coriolanus ran his fingers over the delicate white budding flowers, staring at it carefully, before digging it up, roots and all.

He put it in his pocket, far from Lucy Gray’s plants, and continued on.

When they returned to their room, having passed the test (at least, Coriolanus assumed so) and Lucy Gray began potting, she paused at the interloper that had returned with them.

“It’s mine.” 

“Why?” 

Coriolanus shrugged, curious if she knew, “It’s pretty.” 

Lucy Gray wouldn’t be dumb enough to put an unknown plant in their dinner. He was sure of that.

“Or is it insurance?” Lucy Gray asked with a quirked eyebrow, “I grew up in the words, darlin’. You don’t think I was warned about pretty little things like that?” 

“I just want to see if it grows down here,” Coriolanus said with an easy-going smile, “Just curious.” 

“Curiosity killed the cat,” Lucy Gray rolled her eyes, reciting an ancient saying. 

“Maybe I want to take up horticulture,” Coriolanus said, carefully arranging it in a pot, “Take up a meaningful hobby. You know my Grandma’am grew roses. Didn’t see any up there.” 

Lucy Gray was looking at him the way she did sometimes; like he was still a riddle she was trying to unravel. 

“Okay,” She finally said, “But keep it far away from my cooking herbs.” 

“I have no intention of staging a murder-suicide,” Coriolanus said, “I like you far too much.” 

Lucy Gray laughed, before covering her mouth with her hand, “Out of all the bald-faced lies I’ve heard, that’s the worst.” 

“It’s true.” He said, his dignity slightly bruised at the accusation. 

Lucy Gray paused entirely, eyes wide, surprised, “Well…I’ll be damned,” She rubbed her arms, “Just when I think you can’t surprise me anymore, you go ahead and say something like that.” 

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Coriolanus said, ducking his head, feeling like he’d said entirely too much. All he wanted to do was be proven right, not wrong. 

Lucy Gray came over, kissing his temple, “Careful, darling or someone like me might mistake you for a man capable of real human emotions.” 

Coriolanus grinned and then laughed. 

Being seen wasn’t so terrible, sometimes.

Chapter Text

Now that Coriolanus felt like he and Lucy Gray had been accepted into District 13, completely and unconditionally, he knew it was time to start his plan.

It began simply; Coriolanus felt like a gardener, dropping little seeds of question and doubt into the minds of his fellow men and woman, just whispering the start of ideas, and letting them germinate across the ranks without so much of a push.

It sprang up like little fires that he walked away from, eagerly watching people burn through ideas and thoughts and rebellions that would be impossible to trace back to him.

Lucy Gray, though she likely had no idea of her collaboration, was an excellent partner in this. Her natural need for creativity and joy pushed for something bigger, something more full of life that District 13 was wholly unprepared to combat. From their allotted time outside, while Coriolanus collected more deadly plants to nurse in his room, Lucy Gray brought back wildflowers, which she used to stitch together to make flower crowns.

The whimsy of it took hold quickly. Soon, Lucy Gray was earning extra credits by taking requests and it was all the rage for about one summer.

That is, of course, until Korbin tried to put a kibosh on it.

Coriolanus was unsure what argument he’d go with; that it was unfair that Lucy Gray was earning such hearty spending coin, that she was threatening their drab and gray existence with (god forbid) splashes of color, or that she might start making people think that maybe they would like a little spice of life, but none of it mattered. The truth was that Coriolanus knew that Korbin knew that control was slipping fast from his fingers and he wanted it back.

That’s what every person in power wanted, even if they told you they didn’t.

So, Korbin did the best and worst thing he could do; he banned Lucy Gray and Coriolanus from going up to the surface of 13.

Immediate outrage.

Without even trying, without even prompting, Lucy Gray had made herself a martyr, and Coriolanus couldn’t have ever been prouder of her.

Coriolanus would consider that the horror was a combination of a few things.

One; her flower crowns were so ubiquitous and desirable that the idea that the wives of District 13 wouldn’t be able to get their hands on them more was a dismay.

Two; the husbands and boyfriends and fathers realized that the ladies in their lives were in far better spirits, with Lucy Gray feeding their creative souls and it was enough to make any man shudder to think what this could send them all back to 

Three…perhaps 13 was realizing that if he was taking away Lucy Gray and Coriolanus’s time, promised to all citizens for doing nothing really wrong (at least, nothing illegal), who was to say he couldn’t do the same for them? 

Korbin had shown his true colors and no one quite liked that shade of green at all. 

The next election was a landslide victory for his opponent. Coriolanus had curated the next president about a year ago, whispering in the ear of a Lt. in his militia ranks that he felt was mouldable. Not too smart, but not too dumb. No lofty ideas of himself until Coriolanus put that idea in his mind. Someone who wouldn’t make any trouble, at least, no trouble for Coriolanus.

Oak Finchly would serve the public without causing any ripples until Coriolanus found it time to try to take the seat of power from him. He was almost forgettable, non-discript, and dreadfully boring.

But Coriolanus put the thought in his head that perhaps he was built for more.

A seat-warmer, to be precise, though Coriolanus never told him that part.

He’d be a forgotten president in history, the one that everyone got stuck on, going ‘Oh, who was that guy after Jackson was nearly thrown out in the mob?’ and that was exactly how Coriolanus preferred it to be.

He needed to clear room for his name to be infamous anyway. 

By the time Oak was being pinned and congratulated on his presidential victory three years later, counting almost five years since Coriolanus had come to these godforsaken ruins, Coriolanus had managed to rise up two rungs on the ladder.

His first promotion in the military came the day after he and Lucy Gray were allowed outside for the first time. 

He had been right; it had been a test. He’d passed, been proven to be not a fight risk, and therefore it was time for a true reward. 

His second promotion came right after Oak was elected.

A pat on the back, a ‘thank-you’ for making the new leader believe he could. 

“You inspire people,” Oak said, sharing a long-dusty bottle of whisky with Coriolanus in his new office, “Maybe one day you’ll come for my job,” He teased. 

Coriolanus chuckled, “Oh, I don’t think that’s ever in the cards for me,” He lied, waving a hand. He couldn’t have Oak watching over his shoulder, wondering what day would be the dawn that Coriolanus would decide his time was done, “And besides, you did all the hard work.” 

That was semi-true. Coriolanus had pushed along his popularity, pretending to confide in one of his ‘friends’ about who he was voting for, and the rumors spread from there.

Coriolanus was trusted in the community by this point. His words carried a lot of weight. 

One day, though, he imagined his word would be an iron rule. 

He fantasized often about all he would do when his time at the high table came. All the changes to his drab, dreary place that he’d put into motion immediately. Sure, he understood the necessity to be strict about their rations and careful not to expose themselves, but hell, that didn’t mean that they had to act like fucking monks! 

Now that he was one step closer, he thought about the future he knew he was deserving of so much more often. It would creep into the back of his mind when he wasn’t thinking of anything else, and it would consume him.

One day, he realized that Lucy Gray was scowling at him as he found his thoughts carrying him years into the future. 

“What?” 

“God,” Lucy Gray rolled her eyes, “Why can’t you just be happy with what you have? I know that look; you’re schemin’. You think you’ll be happier on top?” She asked, eyebrows quirked. 

“I know I will be,” Coriolanus replied with certainty. 

“And what happens when you’re just as unhappy there? What happens when there are no more mountains to climb?” She asked as she washed their dishes. 

“Don’t you aspire for more?” 

Lucy Gray, who had been promoted to the person who planned the weekly meals and made sure that everything ran smoothly, shrugged, “I’m not as high-maintenance as you,” She teased. 

“There’s nothing that would make you happier?” Coriolanus found that hard to believe. 

“A guitar, I suppose,” She said after a long moment, “But dreaming of an instrument vs dreamin’ of world domination is very different.” 

“Not world domination. Just Panem,” Coriolanus said with a half-smile, “At least, that’s just my five-year plan. Not my ten-year one.” 

“Five years ago, I thought I’d be dead in the Hunger Games in a day,” Lucy Gray said, not amused, but not angry…just pensive, “And it’s a miracle I’m not. I suppose I just..” She tilted her head, “We’ve built something here, though I’m not entirely sure what. And I guess I just wonder…” She scrutinized him, “Nevermind.” 

Though Coriolanus was curious as to what she was so fixated on, he knew that her stubbornness was immobile, and pushing her to speak had never worked before. 

But he was not willing to make such promises to jettison his grand plans, so Coriolanus elected to say nothing at all.

He thought, maybe, there was a flash of disappointment in Lucy Gray’s eyes. 

XXX

Oak proved to have a problem that Coriolanus had not anticipated.

He had a liking for alcohol. 

No, a liking was far too generous a term. 

He had an obsession with it.

Obviously, this hadn’t come up in Coriolanus’s careful watching of him, and he felt dumb for having missed the signs. He wondered how Oak, someone of not-so-great intelligence, could have hidden it from Coriolanus for as long as he’d known the man, and Coriolanus had a flash of worry that perhaps he was being played.

All he knew was a drunkard as District 13’s president would not do.

Oak wasn’t meant to be hated or pitied. He was meant to be quietly forgotten. 

Coriolanus caught him, six months after the coronation, stumbling around the halls singing old world sailing choruses, a half-empty can of moonshine in his palms at 3 am.

Immediately, Coriolanus knew he had to fix this. 

“Oak, are you okay?” He asked, feigning worry, helping the older man under his arm, shuffling him back to his presidential office. 

“I didn’t…know…it would be so hard…” Oak hiccuped, “Being a leader.” 

Coriolanus swallowed back a grimace; leadership was not for the weak. 

“This isn’t the answer, though,” Coriolanus sighed, handing him a glass of water, and taking the alcohol from him. 

He sat, wondering how he could have missed it. He’d spent his whole life watching Highbottom get high as a kite on Morphling, and though these were two different beats of addictions, Coriolanus thought he knew every telltale sign of vice and virtue.

How could he have been mistaken? 

“What’s this?” 

“Water,” Coriolanus said as he watched Oak take an experimental sip. He caught the half-empty glass in Coriolanus’s fingers.

“What was I drinking before?” 

“Moonshine.” Coriolanus, out of Oak’s sight, ground a few drops of dried hemlock in the jar. Oak was drunk enough that if he handed it back, he wouldn’t even realize what he was ingesting. The jar felt warm in Coriolanus’s hand as he considered if he wanted to; all it took was one long gup and Oak wouldn’t be the president tomorrow. 

Oak guffawed, “Naw, no…that’s not right. I haven’t had a drop of that shit in twenty years.” 

Ah, well, that explained it. 

Coriolanus had a feeling Oak had been a high-functioning alcoholic and had gotten good at hiding his ways. And, Coriolanus had hardly been born when Oak kicked the habit, stopping before District 13 even ‘disappeared’ from the face of Panem. 

“You slipped off the wagon, Finchly,” Coriolanus said, “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.” 

“Where are we now?” Oak asked, seeming slightly disturbed.

“Your office.” 

Oak relaxed, “You’re…you’re a good friend, Ollie.” He slurred, pointing to Coriolanus, “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” 

Coriolanus tried not to wince at the abominable nickname some had taken to calling him, but as he considered his next moves, he thought of Sejanus.

He hadn’t thought of him in nearly five years.

Oak and Sejanus, though were probably two decades apart in age, were startlingly similar.

Both were idealistic, and sentimental and had higher opinions of Coriolanus than he had of them. Still, there was a pulsing in Coriolanus’s chest when he thought of his very young companion, that made him take a pause to Oak.

“You can’t get this way again,” He said, his voice rough, “You’ll be kicked off the seat of presidency. No one will think you can make sound choices like this.” 

Oak groaned, “I know. I know that.” He sounded frustrated, “But it was so easy to get it…just one call… ring, ring …and it’s here!” 

“Who?” Coriolanus asked tightly. He’d ensure that no more alcohol found its way into Oak’s grubby fingers. 

“Things just are terrible, Ollie,” Oak continued like he hadn’t even heard his question, “We have no food. We’re starving, slowly. Our rationing won’t take us much longer. Do I want to be the president to tell everyone that they can’t have coffee anymore? Or chicken? The crops are failing and the animals are dying off…I dunno how to do it, man.” 

Coriolanus tried not to let his eyes widen at the admittance. He knew that District 13 ran on a tight ship, but he had no idea it was this bad. 

He needed time to figure this out. He also didn’t want to be the future president to run District 13 into the actual ground, truly making it only a memory. 

Perhaps…having a loose-lipped confidant wasn’t the worst thing? At least, Coriolanus considered, if he could control when Oak got drunk…that might turn in his favor, actually. 

Coriolanus looked down at the poisoned moonshine and forced himself to stand, dumping it out.

Lucy Gray’s words weaved through his mind.

Killing him wouldn’t solve anything, and would cut the fun early…she was right. Plus, if there was a chance Oak could be useful like this…Coriolanus should jump on this unexpected opportunity. 

“And the kids…no one’s havin’ them…” Oak continued, rubbing his face looking twenty years older than he actually was, “My wife and I have been trying…forever. I don’t know how much more disappointment we can take.” He whispered. 

Coriolanus felt very uncomfortable. The conversation was moving into touchy-feely emotional territory, which was not his forte. 

Plus, he knew nothing about the medical process of child-making, only the strictly practical sense, so he had no words of wisdom. 

Oak looked up, pouting like a child. 

“What do I do, Ollie?” 

Coriolanus paused, blanching at the openness for suggestion. Oak was looking at him like he had answers.

Which, he didn’t. Not immediately. 

“Go to sleep, Oak,” Coriolanus sighed, “For today. We can figure it out tomorrow.” 

Oak inhaled, “Promise?” 

Coriolanus couldn’t let this District fail. He wouldn’t. He needed something to rule one day, not just half-starved adults with no future prospects. 

“Of course,” Coriolanus said, serious as ever, “But none of those problems will be fixed tonight.” 

Oak wiggled his finger, “Yer…yer a smart man, Ollie. Wonder sometimes where you came from…” 

“Nowhere, exactly,” Coriolanus lied, “Just blew in with the wind one day.” 

Oak snorted, “The mystery man from above…where did he come from…where is he going…where is…” Before he could finish the thought, his head had dipped and he was snoring on his desk.

Coriolanus watched him sleep, trying to settle his widely beating heart. 

Oak had bought himself a few more years at life. Coriolanus could use this; no need to kill him prematurely. 

Now he just needed to find Oak’s dealer and make a few terms and conditions very clear.

XXX

In the next coming weeks, other than an embarrassed ‘thank you’ the moment was not discussed in depth between Oak and Coriolanus. 

Oak also did not come demanding solutions, which was perfectly fine.

Something like this, a flaw in the system, didn’t just happen overnight, and it took equal measures of time to fix it.

Coriolanus thinks that maybe it could be resolved by the end of Oak’s presidency, or ideally, right at the beginning of his.

Really cement his historical presence in their logs of magnificent people, right? 

It was two weeks later when he heard a light knock on his door.

He slept very little, compared to his Lucy Gray who it seemed could sleep for a century. He preferred these twilight hours in the compound, actually, completely alone with his thoughts, with permission for them to meander wherever they may without the threat of someone coming up to interrupt him.

Thus, the knock on his door was more than unexpected. 

It took a few times for Coriolanus to realize that yes, someone was trying to get his attention, but they were trying to get it quietly.

He opened his door a sliver to see Major Clair, a woman two steps down from Colonel Peard, and about four steps down from the leader of the military, General Coin. 

“Yes?”

“President Finchly wants to see you,” She said quietly, whispering. 

“At 3 am?” Coriolanus asked suspiciously. 

If he's fallen off the wagon again, I swear to fucking God-

“Look, he said it had something to do with a conversation you two had before. He told me to tell you ‘coffee’, but I’ll tell him you’re unavailable-,” 

“Wait.” Coriolanus stopped the door before she closed it. He tilted his head, turning to look back at Lucy Gray, sleeping soundly, “Fine. Give me a moment to put on my jumpsuit.” 

He dressed quietly, worried that perhaps Oak had found a place to drink again. 

Clair brought him to the office, and when Coriolanus stepped over the threshold, the lights were off and it was dark, untouched. 

He turned, confused and furious, but swung around a moment too late.

There was a searing pain in the back of his head, and Coriolanus saw stars explode against his iris before he went down hard.

He was out before he registered hitting the ground.

XXX

When Coriolanus came to with a searing headache, he was in motion. 

Someone was dragging him across the ground with very little care given. 

“What do you want with your cut?” Someone was speaking above him. It took Coriolanus a long time to digest their words; he felt faraway, underwater compared to them. The other person was already speaking by the time he riddled it out.

“A bigger room, for sure. And I think I could hire a chef with this bounty. No more bland food. You?” 

“Sister wants a kid. Shouldn’t be hard to make life easier for someone who didn’t want it, right? And District 13 will welcome another child. Turn a blind eye to where they appeared from.” 

Coriolanus found himself staring up at the stars weaving through the branches of trees, and the air was chilly enough to make him shiver. His arms were aching, held above his head as they pulled him through the forest, like caught prey brought back to camp by savages, and when he opened his mouth, he tasted blood on his tongue.

He kept quiet, trying to suss out exactly what was happening. One of the voices was Clair, a fucking traitor who had far bigger balls than Coriolanus would have ever guessed, and the second was Major Bouchon…two people very high up in the hierarchy of their military.

Interesting to say the least. 

“Or maybe I’ll just go with her, right? To the capitol…I hear it’s a hell of a place,” Clair added, the one who had wanted the private chef. 

YOu have no idea, Coriolanus thought bitterly. A place like that would chew her up and spit her back out. District 13ers couldn’t even perceive a life so grand, so magnificent. 

A life you gave up, Snow. 

“Can we wake him up? I’m exhausted,” Bouchon complained, the one lugging Coriolanus all this way. 

“Stop complaining. It isn’t far from the meeting site,” Clair snapped back, “He’s half-starved, like everyone in 13. He can’t be that cumbersome.” 

Bouchon grumped, but Coriolanus could tell he was tired from how little care was given to ensure he didn’t slip through mud or over sharp rocks.

None of this boded well for him. If they weren’t being kind to his safety now, it could only mean he was as good as dead as soon as they met with whoever they were seeking. 

It was hard for Coriolanus to gather information, as he was facing the wrong direction, unable to seek through the trees and see what was happening before he arrived. 

And frankly, he was stumped as to what exactly had precluded this. 

Was Oak in on it? Did Oak know Coriolanus had considered killing him that night? Was this his punishment? 

Coriolanus bit down on his lip to keep from crying out as he was dragged through thorn bushes, right at the edge of the clearing. 

“We got ‘im, boss.” 

“No issues?” 

Coriolanus felt his whole body stiffen.

The villain underneath the mask was Korbin fucking Jackson? 

Coriolanus was just pissed off now. 

“Lured him away, out of sight. No one was us leaving.” Clair assured. 

“Good. Wake him up. Time for him to meet his fate.” 

Coriolanus closed his eyes and swallowed back a wince as Bouchon poured dirty, tepid water over his face. He sputtered, struggling up, coughing the liquid. He blinked awake to see Jackson crouching over him, grinning wide. 

“Wakey, wakey Snow.” 

“What the fuck is this?” Coriolanus demanded, trying to break free of his tied bonds, but found the knots expertly tied. Plus, he was pretty banged up, and every movement made his muscles scream in protest. 

“You know? I didn’t give a flying fuck who you were originally. You kept quiet, did good work, and added something to our community. And I wasn’t even going to do anything after you helped Oak get elected- of course, I knew it was you pulling the strings. Even your annoying wife wasn’t enough to spur me to action, with her obvious and insulting rebellions and attempts to make me seem like the bad guy.” 

“Maybe you just are-,” 

“But…but…” Korbin wiggled a finger, “Since you’re so chummy with Oak, you know as well as I do the dire situation that District 13 is in. We’ll be out of supplies in…” He waved his hands, “Ten years. And it won’t be a hearty ten years…people will starve, the kids we do have will suffer, and it will tear District 13 apart. And I just can’t have that. So imagine my surprise when this finds its way down the right rivers and creeks to me.” Jackson said, taking out a pad and tapping a few buttons, before turning it around to show a wanted poster, with Coriolanus’s face, boasting nearly a million dollars.

“And who is the keeper of my misfortune?” Coriolanus asked bitterly, wondering if it would be an old Peacekeeper commander or Gaul dragging him back to play in her pathetic games. Or maybe Highbottom, having finally found him, needing to feel superior still to a boy half his age.

Jackson snorted, waving for Clair to turn him around. He was hauled to face a jet, something sleeker than he recalled the capitol having (though, a lot can happen in five years) and he came face-to-face with a sharp face and blonde hair.

“Hi, baby,” The girl cooed, blowing him a kiss.

“Livia Cardew?” He laughed out loud. 

Goddamn. 

This really was pathetic. Taken down by Jackson? Well, he was wilier than Coriolanus anticipated.

But Livia? 

God, that really put a sour taste in his mouth. 

Livia took one look at him and burst into laughter, so loud and shrill that Coriolanus winced. It seemed time had not made her more bearable. 

“I didn’t know what was more shocking to find out; that District 13 is still living, or that you snaked your way out of punishment again, Coriyo.” She said, raising her chin high. 

“Spit that name out of your mouth, Cardew,” Coriolanus snarled, protective of the name his cousin was allowed to use. 

“It’s actually Livia Harrington, now. Things have sure changed in your absence. Like I’ve just become such good friends with Tigris…wonder what she’d say if she knew you’ve been alive, here, all this time and never wrote?” She asked, tapping her chin. 

“Whatever is the opposite of congratulations to give to Pup, tell him that.” Coriolanus said flatly, “Does your husband know you’re here, giving away your mother’s bank for little old me?” 

“Oh, now is hardly the time to be humble, Coriolanus. You’re the most wanted man in all of Panem, after all.” She said with a strange smile. She came and leaned down close, whispering in his ear, “They found the guns. With your fingerprints all over it.” 

Coriolanus felt panic rise in his throat. It had been five years. It had to be only a matter of time before someone searched high and low for them and found it. He was foolish to think the matter could be forgotten.

Reality began to sink into his veins as Livia stood, brushing off her pants. 

“The gallows are too kind a death for you, naturally. I’d start making peace with whatever you believe in,” Livia said, “And of course, Pup and I will be lauded as heroes for bringing a dangerous criminal like you to justice…I think First Lady of Panem is the perfect title for me to thank me for my heroics.” 

“Transfer the money,” Jackson said with a hard, furious edge. 

“Oh, whatever,” Livia said, looking down on him like she did everyone she came across, “Don’t be pushy.” Still, she tapped a few buttons and Coriolanus heard the ‘chime’ of money being transferred. 

“And it won’t be led back to here?” Clair prompted. 

“How dumb do you think I am? We’ll say that our planes found him surviving out in the wilderness. Your secret is safe.” She rolled her eyes. 

Coriolanus realized he was running out of time. He knew that if he got on that plane, he was done for. He’d be guarded and kept quiet and isolated until he was brought to the place of his death, and it would be slow and agonizing. 

He needed to stall, find a weapon, find that element of surprise. 

“Just killing Mayfair’s daughter? C’mon, Livia. The capitol doesn’t care about some random girl from District 12.” He laughed. 

“No, of course not,” Livia snickered like the idea was absurd, “But for some unknown reason, they care about that victor of yours that won.” 

Coriolanus felt something strange in his chest; unbridled fear for Lucy Gray. 

“You know? She disappeared too, not long after. The real reason everyone wants you dead, Coriolanus, is that we’re all pretty sure you killed her too. Would be your M.O. after all. You did exactly what Gaul asked; you made her into a celebrity. So when you both go missing and your fingers are all over the gun, and she’s lost to the wind? You do the math.” 

Coriolanus screwed his eyes shut, wondering if he swung at Livia with all his strength, if he could run before Clair or Bouchon rained bullets down on him. 

It seemed this was a very covert operation, at least. The jet was tiny; hardly fit three people comfortably, and there wasn’t anyone inside, as far as Coriolanus could tell. And Jackson wouldn’t want too many cooks to spoil the pot. He only needed to get past four people, and then…then he could run to freedom.

What he’d do with the fallout of this would be a question to figure out after.

“As an old friend, tell me. What did you do with her body? Is it dumped in a ravine, or did you feel guilt and bury it after you killed her?” 

Just as Coriolanus was about to bite back that he would hardly call them ‘old friends’, two shots rang through the forest, the sound hitting everyone like a hurricane, the echo cracking on long after. 

Bouchon and Clair hit the ground, one shot through their heart, one between their eyes. 

Livia started running for the gangway and Jackson lunged for a fallen gun, but Livia took a second bullet to her leg. She screamed as she grasped at her flesh, blood pooling quickly beneath her fingers. 

Jackson’s body contorted as it went through his shoulder and Coriolanus leaped, kicking the nearest gun away and taking a hearty swing at Jackson’s jaw with his conjoined wrists, satisfied at the crack it made as he connected with bone. 

“I’m actually very much alive, and I’d prefer you not to spread lies about my health, darlin’,” Lucy Gray said as she came into the clearing, her fingers clenching the gun from the fallen soldier in her fingers, trained carefully on Livia. Livia’s whole face was white like she’d seen a ghost.

Or perhaps it was just the blood loss.

Oak came bounding up right after her, his gun trained carefully on Jackson. Now that Coriolanus thought about the accuracy, Bouchon had been by Oak -trained with firearms- and Clair had been by Lucy Gray. Still, it had been startlingly accurate. 

“Baby, you alright?” Lucy Gray asked, turning to Coriolanus, “You’re a mess.” Her tone was breathy and mildly panicked, though Coriolanus had never been more proud of her at this moment. 

“I’m fine now,” He assured, relief flooding his body. 

Livia stared between them, slack-jawed, “You two? Together for real?” She hiccuped, or maybe it was a laugh, “You’re shitting me.” 

“What’s so hard to believe?” Lucy Gray asked. Livia caught her ring, a real ring that Coriolanus had bought a year here, to really sell it, and her eyes flashed with something hard to decipher.

“You know…I thought that I was going to marry him one day.” 

Coriolanus snorted, “She’s delusional.” 

He'd rather marry a walrus than Livia Cardew. 

“He could have been something in the Capitol if you didn’t enchant him with your fucking witchcraft, you backwater whore.” Livia said, showing her teeth, “And I would have been the perfect, gracious wife at his side. Not a dirty bitch like you.” 

“Oh, so you’re a fame-fucker. Yes, Coriolanus absolutely would have wanted someone like you,” Lucy Gray rolled her eyes, entirely unbothered by her insults. “Now-,” 

“Wait!” Livia held up her hands, “You want money? If you bring him in, you’ll not only be treated well for the rest of your life, but you’ll get the prize money! I’ll give it to you, I swear it. You can live like a queen. Just let us bring him in.” Livia pleaded, desperate, “You want to be back with the Covey? We’ll make it happen. Do you want everyone in Panem to hear your songs? We’ll record an album. Just name it.” 

“You can’t give me what I want,” Lucy Gray said with a peal of light laughter, “Because here’s the thing. I grew up without a dad, and I have no intention of making my child suffer the same fate. So all I want is Coriolanus, alive. And I know you can’t promise me that. Plus, it's mighty satisfying to see you lose everything.” 

Coriolanus felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He met Lucy Gray’s eyes, a quick flicker his way before she turned from him.

They were having a baby? 

Coriolanus felt the urge to be by her, in front of her, protecting her. He struggled to his feet as Oak hauled Jackson up. 

“Let’s just kill them both now. Finish up these loose ends.” He suggested the darkest that Coriolanus had ever seen him.

“Now, just wait, Finchly. I appreciate you coming to help me rescue my gullible husband,” She said with a wink, “But maybe all these pregnancy hormones are making me emotional. So I want to offer Jackson a choice.” 

“A choice?” Oak echoed uncertainty. 

“Mhh,” Lucy Gray said, “Take away anything from Jackson that might be useful. Leave him in just his pants and top.” She went to Livia, who shuddered away from her touch, “I won’t bite. Just let me…” She relieved Livia of her communicators, her gun, and anything that could connect her with the outside world. She looked naked without all the Capitol tech, standing in the woods shivering. 

“This one sent me into the Hunger Games, did you know? Didn’t personally mentor me, but she’s part of the worst month of my life. But I can’t kill her…Lord knows the Capitol would come flocking. But we can’t let her go, ruin this. Give me a moment…” She said conversationally to Oak, before turning to Korbin, a dark slate shadowing her eyes, “So. You have a choice to make, Jackson. You can take the easy route; I’ll shoot you right now, and it won’t make me lose a night of sleep. Or, you can take your luck out in the woods. You might be able to stumble back into District 12. Who knows?” 

“Lucy-,” Coriolanus began quietly, but she shushed him. Jackson met their eyes before turning and vanishing into the woods. Livia huffed.

“This is crazy! When I make it to Panem, you’re all dead!” She spat. 

“So…hard way?” Lucy Gray asked, unphased, "You're not inspiring great mercy in me, you know?" 

“Fuck you,” Livia said, throwing up her fingers at both Coriolanus and Lucy Gray. 

“Is this wise?” Oak asked nervously, “What if he makes it back?” He asked as he watched Korbin stumble into the woods.

“He won’t,” Lucy Gray said, “He’s both bleeding pretty hard; unless he finds some weapon to work, and cauterizes the wound, chances are high he’ll bleed right through. Or the wolves will get them, drawn by the scent. Worst case? They’ll die of dehydration…oh, about three days.” 

“If you’re so sure he’s dead, why would he choose that?” Oak asked, “Over just getting it over with?” 

“Well,” Lucy Gray said, helping Coriolanus to his feet. She produced a knife and sawed through his restraints, “It’s like my dear husband likes to say. A little hope; he likes to think he’s smart enough to make it out alive. But most aren’t, and he surely won’t be. And, just to be safe, we can play dirty. The Capitol sure as hell didn’t give me an easy time, and neither did our ex-president.” She added, “Besides, isn’t this much more satisfying?” 

“I just don’t want this to come back and haunt us.” 

“He’s done for,” Lucy Gray said, going to examine the jet with a critical eye, “And neither of us have to add another name to our ledger.” 

She turned, “Now…you…” She circled Livia, like a predator stalking their prey. Livia held her hand against her waist, furious but defiant still, “You’re quite the loose end, aren’t you? We kill you now, face repercussions of the Capitol. But you came on our land and tried to kill my husband and help throw a coup for our government, and that can’t be ignored.” 

“Cut out her tongue,” Coriolanus suggested with a slowly widening grin, relishing in the way her eyes widened in fear, “Axovs tell no tales. And then we’ll contact her husband; if he cares at all, he’ll negotiate her return. And if not…” He shrugged, “District 13 always needs more laborers. And if she does return, I think all of Panem would thank you for silencing her.” 

“Her tongue?” Oak asked, a bit green at the idea.

“It’s a regular practice in Panem. I wouldn’t be surprised if a disgruntled former maid of hers got that treatment just for messing up which serving spoon to offer her,” Lucy Gray said, hands on her hips, “At the end of the day, Panem won’t want a war, not again. If we’re careful about it, she’ll be…someone who made a grave mistake. They can’t care about Coriolanus, not that much. Not enough to launch their military.” 

“My face isn’t pretty enough to launch a thousand ships?” Coriolanus asked, but it hurt when he laughed- a very real ache. He was glad to see Lucy Gray quirk a smile. 

“Let’s take her in. You must be in contact with someone in 13…someone there knows we’re out here and is pointedly not coming to look for us. We might be hungry, but we have enough tech to blast the Capitol into a crater.” Lucy Gray said, standing. Only now did she turn to gaze at Coriolanus, her eyes softening as she took in his appearance. 

Oak hauled Livia to her feet, dragging her towards the tree line in the direction of 13.  

“Lucy Gray…” Coriolanus whispered, abandoning the pretense of their fake names in front of Oak. He stumbled over to her, pulling her into an embrace from which he never wanted to let her go again. He dug his nose into her hair, body quaking at the agony to move at all, holding her against his body. She took a moment but reciprocated, twining her arms around his back and sighing into his body. 

“You nearly gave me a heart attack, Coriolanus.” She whispered, “Giving me a fright, the nerve!” 

“It wasn’t exactly by choice,” He reminded her. She pulled back, tracing her finger along his jawline, where he was sure blood was washing his skin like paint. Her eyes were liquid and intense as she stared into his gaze. 

She helped him limp home. Once at the gates, they were met will a full military presence, half of which were dispatched to retrieve the jet and bring it under cover. 

Oak met Coriolanus’s gaze for a moment, tilting his head. 

“Do you care?” Coriolanus asked point blank, “About who I am?” 

“As long as you’re loyal to 13, I don’t care if you’re the ghost of Jack the Ripper,” Oak said evenly, “Take the week off. You look like shit.” 

Coriolanus rolled his eyes. 

Lucy Gray closed off the nearest bathroom and helped Coriolanus peel off his clothes, caked with dirt and debris, and she pushed him underneath the spray of warm water, the time disabled just for him. 

He looked down to see bruises blooming all over his body like bouquets of dark, deadly roses, painting him in botanicals all over his skin. He had numerous cuts and bruises that stung as the water and soap pressed to his body. He watched blood, dirt, and sweat mix at the drain as Lucy Gray methodically washed his hair, his body, and his face with a gentle hand.

“Don’t do that, Coriolanus. Don’t do that ever again,” She whispered, scrubbing him clean.

“You know, it wasn’t exactly my choice to be kidnapped and dragged through the underbrush,” Coriolanus reminded her. 

When she came around to his front, standing in the spray of the water too, droplets tracing rivers down her cheeks, Coriolanus realized that her eyes were misty, but it was impossible to tell how much was tears and how much was the disguise of the shower. He inhaled slightly, and though she was afraid of what he might say next, she dragged the pad of her thumb over his bruised lip, before pressing on the balls of her feet to meet him as he tipped forward, placing a magnetic, molten kiss upon his features.

When Coriolanus pulled back, she lingered in the moment, and that pressed him on to ask the question wracking his mind. 

“Is it true?” He asked, “Or was that just a good lie?” 

Lucy Gray paused her minstrations, blinking up at Coriolanus.

“I’m not nearly as good a liar as you are,” She whispered.

“And apparently not as dead of a sleeper as I thought either?” He teased. She found humor and he relaxed a bit.

“No, that secret is out too. You think you’re quiet, but god, you’re like a bull crashing around at midnight.” 

Coriolanus caught her cheek, “How long have you known?” 

“Suspected a while. Known with certainty much shorter. I wasn’t sure if I was going to tell you…” She admitted, eyebrows knitting. Disappointment hit Coriolanus.

“You’d keep it a secret?” 

“Not a secret…” She licked her lips, trying to explain, “I’ve been considering legacies. Not just mine and not just yours as separate entities, but us together. Because we made a promise, and I don’t know how things are in the Capitol, but we keep the promises we make.” She said with a choked sob, “So we’re in this, together, and that means something to me.” 

“It means something to me too,” Coriolanus said, his eyebrows knitting in confusion. 

“I care about District 13. It’s given me safe harbor and more of a sense of belonging, here as Linnett Rose, than I’ve ever had before, and I’ll be damned if I see it fall. But we both know it’s on unsteady knees…” She met Coriolanus’s eyes, a surness burning in her own, “We both know you’re going to climb the ladder. You’re already making plans and machinations. Just tell me this…if you were to become President, what would you do?” 

“I’d…” Coriolanus tilted his head. He paused. He never imagined anyone would be interested in his real answer, not the sanitized answer he’d give during debates or campaigns, “I’d make us a powerhouse. I’d assure no one would think to mess with us.” 

“And after?” 

Coriolanus thought of the drafty halls. He thought of the feel of sunshine on his face, and Lucy Gray painting her jumpsuit and making flower crowns. He thought of the spices in their house and the way she’d inspired dancing and merriment. 

“I’d remind them what it’s like to live. I’d give them back their identities. I’d make a grand hall for you to sing in, and encourage others to explore. I’d bring the trees and forest down here; I know there’s a way to engineer it so it feels like a meadow. I’d figure out how to get more kids and put an emphasis on education and enrichment. I’d bring joy to everyone, but mostly I’d…” He paused, catching himself before he said it out loud.

I’d do whatever would make you happiest. 

“Why?” Lucy Gray demanded, not angrily, but unrelentingly. 

Because I love you. 

But Coriolanus didn’t say that.

“Because it would make a stronger 13,” He said, “And a better people, ready to fight for what they have to. If we ever come to that.” 

“Right,” Lucy Gray stepped away, pressing a protective hand to her stomach, “Kids sell the picture better, I’ve noticed. People like their president to be relatable, or to be desirable. And kids are both. It’s what everyone wants here.” 

“So we’re…doing this?” Coriolanus asked hesitantly. 

“I meant what I said all those years ago…that people spend their whole lives, just trying to dangle on the side of good and not the side of evil. Most I don’t imagine run into much resistance. But you have trouble with it; you got something in your brain that just pulls you the wrong way every time.” She said, “But that’s okay. Well, not ‘okay’, but I can work with that. If you go for this, I’m at your side. Always. I’m your conscience.” 

“Lucy-,” 

“No, you listen. I can push you toward the right side of things, and I know the folks here pretty well. We don’t want to alienate anyone. We want to be liked. And, hell, wouldn’t you rather be loved and revered as a leader than feared?” 

“Fear is very effective.” 

“Fear is easy,” Lucy Gray crossed her arms, “Benevolence is much harder. But you like a challenge, don’t you?” 

Coriolanus stayed silent. 

Lucy Gray stepped behind him and turned off the water, surprisingly still warm. He was as clean as he imagined he could be. Lucy Gray helped wrap his chest, hands, and set his nose, working methodically to cover everywhere he was bruised or battered.

Which was most places. 

“You’re a terrible person, Coriolanus. We both know it. Let’s not deny it,” She said, utterly conversationally, as though the thought just crossed her mind, “But I think that you…that we…can accomplish great things if you’ll let me in.” 

She looked up, watching Coriolanus through her thick lashes. 

Coriolanus felt some part of him metaphorically unclench. Let go. He felt some of his control hasten away from him, but there wasn’t fear. Not about that. 

You’re going to be a father, Coriolanus. 

There was only one person in the world that Coriolanus imagined he could pass over his autonomy to, and that was his wife, Lucy Gray Baird. 

“When do we start?” 

Her eyes gleamed. 

“Darlin, we already have.”

Chapter Text

Oak met them outside the door of the shower.

“What does everyone know?” Lucy Gray asked, arms crossed, raising her chin.

“It’s hard to hide dragging a capitol-born through the halls, and rumors will spread. Of course, I have my most loyal me on it, but there are already whispers.” 

“No, you need to nip in the bud,” Coriolanus said roughly, coughing and shuddering, his body seemingly shutting down, now not in immediate danger. 

“You need to say something, Ollie.” 

“I’m not Oleander,” Coriolanus said, surprised by Oak’s request. 

“You are to me. To these people here. You wanted to leave behind Coriolanus Snow, and you have. He doesn’t exist anymore,” Oak said, “But you still inspire people with your words. And we need this to be…perfect,” He exhaled. 

“Did you find the money?” Coriolanus asked, groaning, rubbing his face.

“It’s in there, trust me. We have our best to crack the code to access it…I am sure that Jackson would have been smart enough to move it immediately after Cardew sent it, so we just need to find his hidey hole.” 

“We need it,” Coriolanus said with a firm press of his lips, "No one will give us aid out of the goodness of their hearts." Oak’s eyes were like two shallow pools.

“I know.” 

“Coriolanus,” Lucy Gray said, “He’s right. You gotta say something.” She urged, “The winners tell the stories. Don’t let them ruin us by choosing now to take the high road and stay silent.” 

Coriolanus stared at Lucy Gray, and all he could think of was his child in her.

“Okay,” He croaked.

People were already gathering in the main hall. Coriolanus made quite the entrance, limping forward, Lucy Gray shouldering his weight as he was hauled onto the stage. Oak found a microphone, nervously twiddling as he adjusted it. 

“I’m sure you all have questions,” He said, the feedback ringing around the open air above everyone’s heads, “And I will give you answers. But perhaps you should hear it from the lips of a trusted member of thirteen, Oleander Rose, who was nearly taken from us.” 

Coriolanus stood, motioning to Lucy Gray to stay sitting, as he limped to the place Oak was vacating. His fingers were clammy as he gripped the microphone, staring out at the scared faces.

“Today, our old president Korbin Jackson attempted a coup. He had a select few, who sadly perished, and some conspirators from the capitol. I found out about his deception early on and attempted to stop it, only to be met with violence. Korbin was a man who was making plans with the capital, the very city that beat us down and made us hide beneath the ground in fear of retribution. He was a turncoat and untrustworthy and we should be grateful that he was able to be stopped by our fearless President before things became too drastic.” 

“Was he coming for our children?” A woman asked, grasping her son close to her, and pulling him back against her chest. 

Coriolanus stared out over the sea of people.

Who was going to correct him? Anyone who could had died, and Livia wouldn’t talk for very much longer. His fingers twitched with glee at the thought of sawing her tongue straight off her, making it impossible for her to squeal and ruin this for him. 

“I would expect so,” Coriolanus replied, and horrified whispers rose about the savagery of the Hunger Games. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lucy Gray stiffen, a hand placed instinctively on her stomach.

Her children would never be reaped. It was always a guarantee that his kids were safe, but how odd must it be to be living without that fear, he wondered? 

He turned his attention back to the crowd, “The thing to remember is that we have stopped this plot, and you are all still safe. Great measures have been taken for your safety thanks to Oak Finchley.” 

Coriolanus gave the floor back to Oak, easing back into his chair, trying not to grit his teeth publically as he breathed through the pain.

He faintly heard Oak ask everyone to applaud Coriolanus for his tireless efforts to unearth this plot, obviously smart enough to agree with whatever story Coriolanus embellished for their benefit. 

He sent everyone to their dorms, assuring more transparency going forward if news arose. Coriolanus felt like he couldn’t move, glued to his seat, his bones too aching to take the necessary movements to stand up.

“We need to go to the infirmary,” Lucy Gray twittered nervously, “If you survive that night just to be taken out by a burst spleen-,” 

“I’m fine,” Coriolanus growled, grinding his teeth as he forced his legs to extend. Utter agony. 

“You’re not, and stop pretending you are!” She said. 

“Only if you’ll allow yourself to be checked out too,” Coriolanus said, leaning on a wall to steady himself as he rose to his full height. 

“Oh, I’m fine-,” 

“Please. For me. It would ease my brain,” He said, shooting a pleasant smile. 

“Not a scratch on me, darlin’.” 

“Still,” Coriolanus was unsettled. If Clair or Bouchon had been watching him for any amount of time, they would have come to the conclusion that Coriolanus had…if they wanted to hurt him, they just needed to get to Lucy Gray. It was comforting that she hadn’t dropped dead yet, but Coriolanus didn’t trust that to mean they hadn’t touched her at all. 

“If you go, I’ll go,” Lucy Gray, equally as stubborn as he, finally announced.

So they went. Slowly. Agonizingly. Coriolanus refused a stretcher, thinking that would be too much for his ego, and so they moved at a snail’s pace, inching closer and closer.

He was immediately given full attention; shots for infection, sutures to close up some open, gaping scars, and a painkiller to numb and dull the sharp ache that shot through his body. 

The morphling was sweet like sugar; he understood why Highbottom had grown so co-dependent on it. 

“Your turn,” He said to Lucy Gray, who had been edging toward the door.

“Shoot, you got me,” She said, hopping beside him. 

Coriolanus refused to take his eyes off her as they went through their tests, announcing her right as rain. 

“How far along?” Coriolanus asked, finding her palm and linking his fingers between hers, a nervousness zipping through him, a feeling he hadn’t charted before. 

“Should be just about two months, it looks to be,” The doctor said, reading the ultrasound. The pictures flickered on his face, “Would you like to hear the heartbeat?” 

Coriolanus found himself nodding fast before he knew it. Lucy Gray nodded too, and they both sat in absolute silence for a few beats.

Until…a quiet, thrumming, rhythmic beat filled the air. 

Emotion swirled within Coriolanus, so fast and swift he thought he was going to drown in it. 

The heartbeat, He whispered to himself, overwhelmed, There’s really a baby there. 

His palms found a place to rest on her stomach, not yet distended or showing. She moved her hand, as though to push it off, but in the end, she laid her palm over his until the end of her exam. 

As the doctor was pulling away the machines, Coriolanus leaned down close, running his fingers over her stomach. 

“Hi there, kid. I’m your father,” He whispered. He looked up to see Lucy Gray watching him, a grin on her face, “What?” 

She shrugged dramatically, “Oh, nuthin’.” 

After they were both deemed fit and not close to death, though Coriolanus was given a script for some more pain meds if he woke up worse tomorrow, they managed to drag themselves back to their house, though Coriolanus recalled nothing of the journey.

In fact, his last memory was sitting next to Lucy Gray in that infirmary wing, awed at the sound of his son or daughter’s heartbeat, and properly introducing himself, as any well-bred person would. 

In truth, as soon as the door was closed and he could wriggle out of his clothes, Coriolanus was fast asleep on his pillow, letting his pain wash away as he slipped into unconsciousness. 

“Deep in the meadow, under the willow…” 

As he drifted off, he heard Lucy Gray hum a lullaby, not meant for him, but perfectly soothing for his soul all at the same time. 

XXX

Coriolanus stood in the woods, inhaling the scent of fresh leaves, letting the summer wind brush through his hair. He leaned against a tree, and though he knew he was healed completely, he saw branches broken from where his body was dragged through, unceremoniously, months ago, and he felt bile rise in his throat.

The world perhaps thought Coriolanus to be unshakable, but at night, his dreams were tar and turpentine on his lips, betraying how shaken near death had brought him. 

Only Lucy Gray heard his whimpers and soothed him with quiet songs in his ear, but he never got a full night of sleep. 

Not anymore.

Someone’s shoes crunched through the moss and dead leaves, “God- you’re a sight for sore eyes. It is true.” 

Coriolanus turned, tilting his head to see Hiarius Heavensbee, in his Capitol jacket and bow tie, eyes widened. 

“Arius,” Coriolanus said, hoping to invoke the former kinship of schoolmates with an old nickname, “When I was told the leader of the revolution in Panem was someone I knew-,” 

“Never thought it would be me, huh?” Hilarius snorted, “I like to surprise. But you? Golly; you know what everyone thinks of you, don’t you?” 

“Livia enlightened me. Did she have good things to say about her little trip to Thirteen?” Coriolanus asked with a wolfish grin, knowing full well they’d shown her they had machines that could incinerate the whole of the capitol at a moment’s notice, acids to burn people into nothing, and tech enough to hole away further down for another hundred years if need be.

What Livia wouldn't have known was that they did not have enough people to launch a war, or have enough intel to be smart about a war, or the will to do what was needed to end it.

Coriolanus remembered the days before the Dark Days, as faint as they were. He could taste the blood on his tongue, the scent of death on the air, and the horrors of what war was.

Thirteen wasn't ready. 

But Livia would only see them as a formidable foe, not to be trifled with.

Hilarius looked a tad green, “She’s not talking much at all.” 

Coriolanus’s fingers twitched like he could still feel the warm blood on his hands as he removed her tongue from her venomous lips. If he was to be cursed with the memory of his terrors, he may as well be soothed by the screams she made. 

Coriolanus held back a triumphant laugh, “Pity.” 

Attached with her had been a note; he knew, eventually, someone who wanted to topple Panem would figure out the riddle and come to them, to make a partnership. Coriolanus was smart enough to know it wouldn’t be done by himself; plus, Thirteen needed things from Panem…food, resources, and supplies. He’d have to make an allegiance with someone.

This mystery contact had been vetted well before coming in front of him.

Of course, Hilarius had been the furthest from his imagination. 

“Pup stepped down from running to be the Assistant Game Maker to Gaul to care for her; best, I’d think. The Games have only gotten worse since you left.” 

“Worse?” 

“It’s a carnival now,” Hilarius spat distastefully, “A gladiator game. A spectacle. Exactly what Gaul wanted. Kids are younger, the games are bloodier and the districts are more beaten down than ever.” 

“You seemed pleased enough with your girl. She made it quite far. Wovey?” 

Something about that name caused Hilarius to flinch violently. 

“It’s a facade, Coriolanus. It’s deranged. Sejanus was right. Sorry to hear he died. I knew you two were close.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Coriolanus spotted a figure, that almost looked like Sejanus, running through the trees. A recent bother; though he was unsure if it was his newly found guilt (thanks to his wife) or a manifestation of lack of sleep. 

Either way, Sejanus wasn’t going to let him forget about him so easily, not when he was upside, away from the cold halls of thirteen. 

“It feels like eons ago.” Coriolanus still wasn’t sure how to respond to such sympathy for someone he didn’t think he liked enough to be the person people felt sorry for, “To the point-,” 

“God, Tigris will be so excited.” 

Coriolanus snapped his head around, “You cannot tell her I’m alive,” He snarled forcefully, his expression slipping so much that Hilarius took two steps back.

“But…Coriolanus, she misses you terribly. She still cries about your death.” 

Coriolanus swallowed uncomfortably at the thought. He would give anything to see her again, but he couldn’t.

He’d left them. Turned his back on the Snow name. 

She should hate him. She should. 

He would if he were her. He'd despise the very ground she walked on if they were switched. 

“If you want my participation, you’ll keep my fate a mystery.” He locked his jaw, “Haven’t you ever heard the quote two can keep a secret if one of them is dead?” 

“Fine. I don’t understand you, but we want Thirteen.” 

“You need thirteen,” Coriolanus corrected. 

“You just have to have the last word, huh?” Hilarius snapped, “You haven’t changed at all.” 

“I’ve grown,” Coriolanus assured with a wicked grin, “Now; Thirteen requires resources. In exchange, we will work to aid the revolution.” 

“You have the guns to come in and bomb the entire capitol,” Hilarius looked furious, “Why don’t-,” 

“Arius,” Coriolanus snorted, “You think revolutions are easy? Do you think they’re made in a day? Please. We’ll be lucky if we make a change within the next thirty years! Panem was carefully constructed to be unbreakable; it will take time to topple it from the inside.” 

“But-,” 

“I will not send the members of thirteen into a war they want no part in, nor will I kill Capitol citizens needlessly.” 

“I wouldn’t have ever thought Coriolanus would walk away from bloodshed.” 

Coriolanus’s eyes flickered, “If that’s what you think of me, some war-obsessed heathen, you don’t know me at all. I’m keeping us both alive, Hilarius.” 

“But what about the children?” Hilarus grasped Coriolanus’s arm, frantic. 

“What about them?” 

“The children reaped! It’s not fair to them! I see mothers, begging for me to help them and I can’t! I know their kid has a good chance of being plucked from that bowl and killed on live television, and it fucking kills me!” 

An idea burrowed in Coriolanus’s mind. He stared at Hilarus, rambling on, it became clearer and clearer to be such a deliciously perfect plan.

“Coriolanus, what in the fuck do you have to be smiling about when I”m talking about murdered kids?” Hilarius snarled. 

Coriolanus crossed his arms, “It would seem that you have a surplus of kids that you wish to see spared from such a fate, and it just so happens that Thirteen has a drought concerning children. Many citizens would kill for a chance to be a parent.” 

Hilarius inhaled sharply, “So you…you’d steal children away from their rightful parents, and ferry them here…to…?” 

“To be loved, cared for, and educated instead of slaughtered? Wouldn’t you?” He shrugged, “Stealing sounds so vulgar. I’m sure any parents who truly love their children would release them. And perhaps some funds for their troubles since we’d be taking away a chance at tesserae.” 

“Won’t someone catch on-?” 

“We won’t save all of them, Hilarius. Not even a small percentage. So, will Peacekeepers notice that a certain number of kids die prematurely in each district, or rather, disappear? You tell me. I think the Peacekeepers have much bigger things to worry about.” 

Hilarius stared at Coriolanus in frustration, “I think parents would prefer an end to Hunger Games.” 

“Wake up,” Coriolanus said, his patience thinning, “You want an overnight solution. You’re delusional. And you’d rather sign their death certificates wishing for perfect rather than a perfectly viable solution.” 

He was no scientist...he couldn’t cure the infertility in thirteen. But…if he could give the people what they wanted most…

Coriolanus breathed in, already imagining the lauding and cheering.

Maybe they’d fashion a statue of him. 

“I’ll think about it,” Hilarius whispered, but from his darkened, furious look, Coriolanus knew he’d won. 

“Oleander.” 

“What?” Coriolanus turned, snapping at a military grunt, “I’m in a meeting.” 

“Your wife. She thought it was a contraction, and she told me not to get you but I thought-,” Coriolanus held up a hand, furious. 

“I’ll be there in a moment.” He held back anger, “Now go.” 

Was it too foolish to hope that Hilarus hadn’t heard a word that had been said? As the grunt scrambled back toward the bunker entrance, and Coriolanus turned, he knew that was a foregone conclusion. 

“You know,” Hilarus said quietly, “I never thought you killed Lucy Gray. Why would you? I’m with the camp that thinks you loved her; we all saw it in the games.” 

“I’ll meet with you here a month from now to work out details,” Coriolanus growled, hating to have such vulnerable information handed to someone who could ruin them. 

Now he had to hope Hilarius wasn’t a double-agent. 

Should he kill him now? Fuck; he knew too much. 

“Of course, you wouldn’t walk in here telling them who you are. Lucy Gray’s smarter than that too. No wonder you two vanished. That’s your wife, isn’t it?” Hilarious pestered. 

“Goodbye,” Coriolanus said firmly. 

“You’re scared,” Hilarius said, shock strangling his throat, “That I’ll take this and hurt you. Hurt her, or your child. I’m on your side, I promise. I won’t let anything happen to them.” He swallowed, “You want to know why I woke up? Why I joined the revolution? I fell in love too, Coriolanus. And I would do anything for her. I thought nothing could hold my love more than anything in the world…until I had a son last year. Plutarch. It’s all for him. You get that too, don’t you? You could hurt me the exact way I could hurt you. But I won’t.”  

Coriolanus released a breath, turning halfway, “Go home, Heavensbee. To your kid. We’re not done, I promise.” 

“You have to let me tell Tigris now that she’s going to be an aunt.” 

“No,” Coriolanus clenched his hands, “I still am firm on it.” 

“C’mon, it’ll brighten everything! She’s alone now and-,” 

“Alone?” Coriolanus spun, “What do you mean…alone?” 

Hilarius blinked twice, “I suppose you would have no way of knowing…but Coriolanus, your grandma died two years ago.” 

Coriolanus held in all his sorrow, all his agony, refusing to show any outward signs of grief. He swallowed back the part of him that wanted to scream, not for her specifically, but to think that Tigris imagined her entire family dead. 

“She was growing on in age,” Coriolanus said, mechanically, “To be expected sooner rather than later.” 

“I know your heart isn’t as stony as you want me to think it is,” Hilarius looked furious, “Let me tell her.” 

“In time,” Coriolanus said, fingers pressing into his skin and making little half-moons on his palm. He needed time to figure out how to apologize. How to make it up to her, “Not now.” 

“I have never understood you and surely don’t now. Okay,” Hilarius relented, “Congrats, by the way. You’ll be…a dad.” 

“I think you’re missing a compliment in there.” 

Hilarius smirked, “No I’m not.” 

Coriolanus waited until he was gone before sprinting through the underbrush back home. He rounded the doctor’s ward to find Lucy Gray trying to release herself from their care.

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” She insisted, catching Coriolanus’s eye, “What good is help these days if they don’t listen to your commands? I specifically said not to fetch you.” 

Coriolanus pressed his hands against her stomach, now visibly full, “Are you both okay? If you’re here, I’m here too.” 

“It was likely just indigestion. I overreacted is all.” 

Coriolanus turned to the man standing next to them, “Doc?” 

“She’s right. All vitals show a healthy baby, still.” 

Coriolanus relaxed. 

“I told you both!” Lucy Gray rolled her eyes, “You know, it would do you well to listen to me on occasion. Now, help me home.” 

Coriolanus let out a small smile, “Yes, dear wife.” 

XXX

Someone was tailing him.

Coriolanus turned, watching a woman shrink into the shadows. 

“Yes?” He asked. 

“Rose, sir,” She curtseyed, “I’m, erm, looking for your wife.” 

Coriolanus feigned surprise, though he had a good idea of what it was about, “Are you now?” 

“Do you know where she is?” 

“You can pass it along through me. I’m sure she’ll get the message,” Coriolanus offered with a kind smile. 

“I’d rather tell her in person.” 

Coriolanus chuckled, “Fine. Follow me.” 

He found his wife where she seemed to be most days; in the walls of thirteen, with the meager amount of school-age children, painting the halls in a brilliantly complicated and vibrant mural. 

Coriolanus’s attempted kidnapping had caused Oak to temporarily ban surface trips; something Coriolanus agreed with. But his wife, ever thoughtful, didn’t want the people of thirteen to feel stifled here and had taken on this mammoth of a project months ago, at least until they figured out how to make a greenhouse or garden down here. 

Ever since the doctor suggested she step down from her job until the baby was born, this is where she spent almost all her waking hours.

Coriolanus thought she should be in bed, resting. She could go into labor any day.

But he knew that it was damn near impossible to change her mind to anything. If she was going to paint a mural, nothing was stopping her. 

The woman darted over to Lucy Gray, whispering quietly in her ear. 

“Alright, children. Let’s call it a night,” Lucy Gray announced, paint streaking her cheeks and in her hair, “You’ve all done wonderfully today!” 

Coriolanus helped Lucy Gray cap the paint and wash the brushes. 

“It’s something, lover. A true masterpiece.” 

“Well, I’ve told you that us Covey are artistic in every way, though I”m not even the best,” Lucy Gray bumped hips with him, “But it’ll do.” 

“What did that woman want?” 

“She had an order from the other side. Some new fabrics, some thread, and sugar cane.” 

Coriolanus gave a frustrated sigh, “She wouldn’t tell me. Does she not realize I’m the one making these trades, bringing these people such small delights?” 

“Sure, it was my idea to give people the option to submit requests to Hilarius. Brighten their lives. Besides, with you bringing in children soon, I need to do something or I’ll just be a footnote in your future biographies. They'll write 'Oh, Oleander Rose gave us children and his wife, whatshername, was there too'.” She teased. 

Coriolanus gave Lucy Gray a soft smile, “Somehow, dear, I doubt you’ll ever merely be reduced to merely a forgotten off-hand. You’re far too vivacious.” 

It wasn’t just her personality; in some ways, Coriolanus wondered if she’d be more praised than he. Linnett Rose, the woman who brought dancing and music clubs back to District 13; Monday night was an open mic, Tuesday and Thursday (before she was asked for bed rest) were her nights to sing her heart out, and Friday was instrumentals and dancing. 

Or how could they forget the woman who still wove flower bands or flower curtains or flower blankets and gave them out not for money, but for smiles.

And no one would ever misremember Lucy Gray, painting their walls so they could have a taste of the outdoors, painting other women’s jumpsuits, or painting murals for women in children’s bedrooms, always thinking of her District that took her in with open arms. 

Lucy Gray was a bright force in the halls, brighter than the sun, the stars, and the moon combined with her relentless optimism and near-aggressive insistence that the people deserved better.

Coriolanus could see that the people were beginning to believe that too.

It wasn’t Coriolanus who inspired them…it was Lucy Gray. 

“Still, I’m approachable, she could have come to me,” Coriolanus grumped. 

“Of course you are, but I’m just more so. There’s nothing more welcoming than a mother,” Lucy Gray said, placing a hand against her stomach, rubbing it comfortingly, “Offended?” 

Coriolanus laughed, “Perhaps a little.” 

XXX

The heir to the Snow legacy was born in the middle of the night on a cold fall evening. 

Up until now, Coriolanus had not been worried, not for Lucy Gray’s sake.

But the moment she let out a scream that echoed through the doctor’s halls, Coriolanus was violently reminded of his mother.

She screamed like that too…and within hours, both he and his unborn sister had been dead. 

“For god's sake, do something!” Coriolanus shook the doctor’s shoulders, “She’s in pain!” 

“There’s a reason they call it labor, darling,” Lucy Gray shot back angrily from her bed, where she grasped the railings so tightly her knuckles were white as she clenched her teeth, “It ain’t for the faint-hearted.” 

“I can’t sit back and watch you suffer,” Coriolanus said, pacing, shaking his head, “It’s agony.” 

“Oh, and it’s a walk in the park for me?” Lucy Gray panted, wiping her forehead, “If you’re going to be a worrywart, you can leave.” 

Coriolanus sputtered, “Leave?” 

“You damn heard me.” 

The doctor pulled Coriolanus aside, handing him a glass of water, soothing him like he was the one in pain. 

“Sir, we want children. You know we’ll do everything in our power to see that this child lives.” He said quietly. Coriolanus bit down on an ice cube.

“And my wife?” He asked throatily. The doctor hesitated. 

Coriolanus remembered his father. For as much as he’d loved his wife, he had loved the idea of legacy more.

Maybe if he hadn’t, things would be…different. 

“If it comes down to it, save her.” Coriolanus said in a furious whisper, “Not the baby, her.” 

“If you’re making plans without me, I'll wring you out, Oleander!” Lucy Gray cried from her bed. The doctor hesitated, looking at Coriolanus’s face. 

“Do you understand?” 

“It won’t come to that, sir,” The doctor assured, brushing away both their worries, “This is normal. Both are progressing like any other birth.” 

Coriolanus pushed past him, pulling a chair and coming to sit next to Lucy Gray. 

“Hey, there. Come here often?” She asked, skin glistening with perspiration. At Coriolanus’s heady expression, she snorted, “Tough crowd. Everyone’s a critic.” 

“I don’t think this is time for lighthearted jests.” 

“Oh, c’mon. Women have been giving birth since the dawn of time. It’s nothing special, darlin’.” 

“You’re always spectacular.” 

Lucy Gray shoved his shoulder, “You get sappy, you’re out of here.” 

He hid a smile, “Sorry.” 

The labor took until the hours of the night. Oak came by thrice to make sure everything was okay. Tawny came with her toddler to keep Lucy Gray company. Hundreds ghosted by the door, offering support. 

“They just want to see a healthy child,” Lucy Gray shrugged, “Can’t blame ‘em. I’m something like a celebrity.” 

But Coriolanus knew it was for her. 

When it came time to push, the doctor politely offered for Coriolanus to leave, he just gripped Lucy Gray’s hand tighter.

“I’m not leaving.” 

He pressed his forehead against hers during the worst of it, whispering loving nothings, letting her wrangle his hand to a twisted mess as the world fuzzed around him. 

Push, push, push! 

A scream broke the air; higher-pitched than Lucy Gray’s. It took Coriolanus a good moment to realize it was the sound of a baby. 

“Congratulations, Mr and Mrs. Rose…it’s a girl.” 

Coriolanus watched, mystified, as the doctor put a bloody, tiny thing in Lucy Gray’s arms. He was stunned into silence at the tininess of it, the fragility. 

She had a tuft of white hair on her head, curly already, though matted and slick. As Lucy Gray sang softly to her, her eyes opened, meeting Coriolanus’s.

Startingly blue. 

“Genetics, huh?” Lucy Gray scoffed, “Dead ringer for you like I didn’t have anything to do with it.” She teased. 

The baby blinked at Coriolanus, and her eyes felt so familiar, so comforting. It was like he was staring into an old, wise friend. 

Or, perhaps, a sister that never breathed a single time.

It was absurd. Coriolanus didn’t believe in reincarnation or anything like that.

But he couldn’t help but feel like something in the universe was righted with the birth of this tiny girl brought into the world, like was perhaps meant to twenty years ago.

And for the first time since learning that his mother and sister and god, even fucking father, died…Coriolanus cried for all of them.

And he wished Tigris was here. 

XXX

“She ought to have a name.” 

Of course, she ought. 

Three days old and unnamed? 

“Ideas?” 

“Well, I suggest something like me and something like you,” Lucy Gray said, threading her fingers through the soft, curly white baby-soft hair on her little head, “A strong Capitol name and a double color name.” 

“You’d give your daughter a capital name?” 

“You’d let me name her a District name?” 

Coriolanus shrugged, “Touche.” 

Lucy Gray placed the baby in his arms, “She is your daughter too. We don’t have to call her by two names; that may be too much of a dead giveaway, but we’d know. Not a middle name, a second name.” 

Coriolanus stared at her, though the idea still seemed foreign, “I know.” 

“I think I like the name of Chantilly. Like Chantilly Lace. It’s quite a pretty name, don’t you think?” 

“Why don’t we do the color as the first name?” Coriolanus asked, unusually generous, “Chantilly Rose. It’s got a ring to it.” 

“And her middle name?” 

Coriolanus thrummed his fingers on the table, tilting his head, remembering Grandma'am drilling Roman histories of old into his mind, “Nerilla means strength and ambition.” 

Lucy Gray chuckled, “Why, I like the sound of that.” 

XXX

They took to calling her ‘Little Ant’ because she was so small, like a tiny bug.

She had her daddy’s looks, but god she had her mother’s vocal cords.

Ant could scream so loud someone clear on the other side of thirteen could hear her. 

Time passed.

Coriolanus fell into routine with Lucy Gray and his daughter; getting up, making breakfast, playing with her, tending to a few tasks, and doing it all over again.

The entire community doted upon Little Ant.

She was quite beautiful, with her wide blue eyes and white ringlets. 

Everyone said so, and Coriolanus felt pride swell in his chest.

HIs daughter, the most beautiful of them all. His daughter, so intelligent but so young, no doubt from both of her cunning parents. His daughter, the Gem of Thirteen.

Between the first children smuggled to thirteen, meeting with Hilarius once a season to discuss further plans, and coming home to see Ant every day, Coriolanus found himself enjoying the rhythm of simply living. 

That was new to him.

Lucy Gray loved their daughter in a way that almost felt foreign to Coriolanus. It was so overwhelming, so loud and unapologetic. She would pick her up, pressing a thousand kisses to those chubby cheeks, and Ant would squeal in joy. Lucy Gray would dance her around their living room, singing every song she ever heard. She would bake cakes and let Ant grasp them in her fat hands and break them into a thousand pieces and she never yelled. 

There were no firm hands, cruel words, or looks of distain. Only unbridled affection. 

He wondered what it would feel like for her to love him the same way too. 

Sometimes he wondered where pretend and real life met in the middle…and if they maybe weren’t just dancing right up to that line, every day. 

If everyone believed they were madly in love and they both loved their daughter, surely, that love overlapped somewhere? 

Coriolanus knew that he was foolish to want it. 

There were much better things in life than to want the love of a woman.

It became more bitter tasting every day to remind himself of such things, harder to convince himself out of what he knew he wanted most.

Chapter Text

If anyone thought having children would slow Oleander or Linnett Rose down, they were sorely mistaken. 

If anything, it drove Coriolanus harder. He wasn’t made completely of ice; he’d felt such obligations before to his Grandma’am and to his sister. And damn what anyone may try to say, he had loved them. Loved them in a strange way, sure, one with certain expectations attached, but he knew it wasn’t a fabricated or mimicked emotion. 

So he’d naturally assumed that he’d have similar feelings towards Ant. The idea of wanting to protect her seemed…reasonable.

What overwhelmed Coriolanus was how much he did love her.

It was wholly different from Tigris or his grandmother’s love. He felt like a lovesick fool sometimes with how gleeful he became whenever she merely smiled his way, her bright grin looking so much like Lucy Gray’s, but her eyes were all his.

Each day he grew more and more attached to Ant, wondering how any parent could let their child out of their sight ever and send them to District 13, even if it was for their own good. The idea of Ant being taken away horrified him and made him violent. 

Coriolanus knew he had promised Lucy Gray he wouldn’t kill again, but he imagined if he did it to protect their daughter, maybe she’d find that okay.

The brightest part of his day was coming home to his little darling daughter and seeing what she had learned and what knowledge she had brought to him and Lucy Gray. 

At first, he tried to hide his feelings of affection from Lucy Gray. Somehow, he was sure that she’d tease him for how deep his feelings ran. He tried to be impassive, and expressionless when Lucy Gray was around. But on the nights when he was tending to Ant, his daughter saw a side of him that he doubted anyone had ever seen and didn’t think anyone would ever see again. 

It was a side of him that was bright and caring and funny and didn’t worry about what Ant thought of him because he knew.

His daughter adored him.

If Lucy Gray was jealous, she never showed it, well…not until Ant’s first word was ‘dada’. 

“Damn you, you’ve been teaching her how to say it at night, haven’t you-,” She began her rant, half laughing, half serious until she turned to see Coriolanus staring at Ant with such a startled, surprised look that all her jesting became serious.

“Coriolanus?” She whispered, raising an eyebrow.

“What?” Coriolanus dragged his expression away from Ant, who had spoken so cleanly and so plainly, just as confident as all the Snows that came before her. 

Lucy Gray’s hand was warm on his cheek. It was only when she brushed the pad of her fingers over his cheek he realized that she was brushing away tears.

Coriolanus jerked back, horrified, and tried to wipe his face but Lucy Gray’s tiny fingers were as strong as someone twice her size and she kept him close.

“Darlin’,” She murmured, “She really loves you, you know?” She asked. There was a hesitance in her expression, something nearly worried. 

Coriolanus swallowed hard, feeling a lump rise in his throat. Did Lucy Gray take his carefully controlled emotion for disinterest? Was she concerned that he’d be careless with their daughter, or irresponsible about what happened when her mother wasn’t here? Why couldn’t she understand that Coriolanus wasn’t sure how to navigate these sorts of feelings and that he was trying? 

“Of course, I know that,” Coriolanus snarked. His embarrassment had burned away to misguided anger.

The Lucy Gray that he’d first met would have slapped him around or stomped off, furious. But they’d been tied together like two mutineers knotted to an anchor, dragged into this mess together. 

“I feel sorry for you, Coriolanus,” Lucy Gray said evenly, her expression level, never rising to his fury. She wasn’t angry, just caught in a thought. “For growin’ up in such a way that makes you feel like you have to hide your love for your daughter. It ain’t a war and you don’t need to win whatever you think you do to prove…prove I don’t even know.” 

Coriolanus exhaled loudly, eyebrows knit furiously, but Lucy Gray wasn’t done.

“I know that your love isn’t an act. I know this is,” She tapped his temples, “Sometimes when I come in late, I linger and you don’t see me. But I watch you tell Ant stories in the most ridiculous, hilarious voices. I see how you dance around the room with her. I see you give her extra chocolate because it makes her giggle. I see your love.” 

Coriolanus felt his heart beat fast. He suddenly felt trapped, caged like an animal. Something inside of him jerked like he was trapped under her gaze, unable to move. 

How foolish he’d been to never notice her like a ghost in the threshold, silent and observant. Ant made him expel all his good sense, all his carefully manicured protections to keep himself aloof, above, and better than the others. 

“You don’t have to pretend with me here, Coriolanus,” Lucy Gray finished, stepping back, “I know who you are; the good, the bad. The man who can love and the man who is harsh. It’s all you inside there, trust me. But…” She scooped up Ant in her arms, pressing a kiss to their daughter’s cheek, “I think I like the Coriolanus I see in those late hours.” 

Coriolanus wanted to tell Lucy Gray that she was wrong; that he was just putting on a personality for Ant. He wanted to turn and go and destroy something; a piece of furniture, a bottle of whisky, or perhaps some parts of himself. He wanted to drag it down, stomp on it, and banish these ugly, confusing emotions that felt like they were bursting out of him. The feeling bubbled in his fingers like lava running underneath his skin. 

He took a step back, face darkened, stuttering for speech. 

Ant swiveled in Lucy Gray’s arms, frowning at his abrupt movement. She reached her arms out, her white-blonde ringlets cascading down her shoulders, outpacing faster than their scissors could cut these days. 

“Dada?” She asked, squirming for his embrace. 

Coriolanus couldn’t say no to her.

He crowded close to Lucy Gray, taking Ant seamlessly between them. Ant placed her chubby cheek on his chest, finding a place to burrow underneath his chin, perfectly content. If Lucy Gray loved Ant unbridled in a way she gave so seldom few, Ant gave her love freely and openly to both her parents and Coriolanus considered himself so lucky to be one of the two.

She smelled like roses, or at least, Coriolanus thought she did. Lucy Gray said it was all just his imagination, but he knew it. 

“Daddy’s got you,” Coriolanus whispered, expression shuttered, though he gave a nervous glace back at Lucy Gray, “I’m here, darling.” 

“Can you say ‘mama’?” Lucy Gray asked, a quiet laugh rumbling in her chest. 

“Dada,” Ant replied, semi-defiantly. 

Coriolanus felt his heart beating fast as he offered a sliver of an olive branch, “Yeah, Ant. I love you too.” 

He had almost thought that his body would disassemble on the spot, but instead, he felt a relief come off his chest. 

Lucy Gray knew better than to make a big deal of it. Instead, she leaned up, kissed Ant’s forehead, and then pressed herself on her tip-toes to kiss Coriolanus’s head as well. He gave a mild chuckle, unsure how to be used to such care as Lucy Gray’s fingers ruffled his curly hair. 

“Well, since she’s so partial, I’m going to meet up with Tawny tonight and you can put her to bed,” She said simply, “Being the favorite has it’s downfalls, Coriolanus,” She teased. 

Coriolanus wasn’t sure how to properly explain to Lucy Gray he didn’t mind at all. 

XXX

On the outside, everyone assumed that Coriolanus and Lucy had the absolutely perfect life, exactly balanced between Ant and their respective responsibilities to Thirteen, plus everything else they were doing otherwise.

Behind closed doors…well, they were right.

Coriolanus would never let himself slouch, trailing behind greatness. The Snows were raised to be best in the face of adversity or difficulty. 

Even if Coriolanus would never admit that the most difficult test was merely going to be to survive Ant’s toddler years. 

XXX

“Ant! Get your hand out of there!” Coriolanus nearly tripped and split his head open to grasp the pot high above Ant’s head as her fingers twisted on the plant. 

Ant let out a wail, almost always getting her way. 

“No! That will kill you, Chantilly.” Coriolanus said firmly, using her full name only when he was serious, and set the plant on the highest kitchen shelf, using a pen to gingerly nudge a scrunched leaf.

If Lucy Gray knew…Coriolanus let out a full-body shudder. Lucy Gray always knew what went on in their house, despite the fact that Coriolanus had checked for hidden cameras more than once. It was like a sixth sense…or Ant was much more skilled in speaking than he gave her credit for, but even if that was the case, Coriolanus would only feel immense pride. She was already the smartest of all her classmates, in his humble opinion. Better than the kid who ate rocks and bugs, a disgusting pass time. Sure, Ant was about to stick a deadly leaf in her mouth, but at least the foliage was closer to food. 

He knew he could never tell that poor child’s mother he was pretty sure their kid was as dumb as a rock. So he had to find other nice things to say about the two-year-old, but not with much success. He’d never done well with stupidness, even if it was a child. 

“Tell her that his haircut is nice,” Lucy Gray offered her help the last time they’d run into the mother and the rock-eating-child socially, “She does it herself.” 

“It’s horrid.” 

“Well, lie, Coriolanus. I know you know how to do that.” 

“She really should pay for it to be done well,” Coriolanus said, eyes wide, “It looks like a matted sheep died on his head.” 

He set a narrowed, suspicious gaze on Lucy Gray, “What things are people lying to us about when it comes to Ant?” He asked. The idea that anyone could find fault with her was impossible to him. He’d never considered this before!

Lucy Gray snorted, “I don’t know if it’s lies as much as…carefully choosing their words. Like when her teacher calls her ‘a natural leader’, it just means she’s bossy,” She nudged Coriolanus’s arm, “Wonder where she gets that from, huh?” 

“Obviously you,” Coriolanus said, cracking a grin. He was trying this new thing lately…humor. He was told by Oak that humor was important in politicians, which he thought was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. Still, it felt nice to use it with Lucy Gray. 

Ant’s wailing took him out of the thought. 

The point was always the same; Lucy Gray knew everything and if Ant even so much as touched her tongue in the same vicinity as this plant, Coriolanus would be sent back to the Capitol hogtied and naked. 

His hobby of mild interests had begun just like that, but somewhere, it had taken on a life of its own. Coriolanus took the precautions to move the other pots far away from Ant before she realized there were more dastardly things she could scare her parents half to death by attempting to eat.

He stared at the line of pots, lips pressed together.

Well, they couldn’t stay here.

He needed a better solution. 

Plus, his…side business was growing exponentially, meaning that he needed more space for these beauties.

He had considered going up to the forest above, but he wasn’t sure he could keep them protected from the weather and animals. For being so deadly, these plants were quite dramatic, wilting at the slightest chill sometimes. He’d raised them with the same tenderness he gave to his daughter, knowing that the best things in life took a little time and attention. 

He sighed, picking Ant up.

“C’mon, let’s go on an adventure.” 

Ant clapped her hands.

Outside of their room, they were stopped by nearly everyone they came across. Ant had so easily charmed District 13 that sometimes it made Coriolanus laugh. He’d spent so long inserting himself when all it took was a child with long eyelashes and a cute little lisp. 

District 13 was ‘baby crazy’, but it was nice to hear the pattering of footsteps more regularly now as hoards of children ran through the halls. Coriolanus felt like he could still pick out where each child had come from - District 5, District 7, District 11…he’d ferried each and everyone here, like a strange stork. Some as newborns, some as young children, some as gangly pre-teens that came with siblings in tow, knowing if they didn’t go one or more of them would starve. 

No one was starving here, not if Coriolanus could help it. 

And he could.

Bringing in the children turned out not to be entirely a selfish endeavor because now he was filling Ant’s class with others. If he hadn’t done this, there only would have been three people in Ant’s graduating class and that was simply unacceptable. Every time he placed a two-year-old in a family, he wondered if this child would be his daughter’s future best friend or first crush or enemy. It made him feel like god sometimes…to think their lives were so different now, and in another lifetime they could be reaped and killed or die before they managed to make it there, where now the worst strife they’d face was concrete halls that went down forever.

Even still, Lucy’s garden made things…better. Enough so it nearly didn’t matter. Lucy Gray had taken the complete reins on it after Ant’s birth, wanting to feel like she was back in 12 more than ever (though, Coriolanus couldn’t figure out why the fuck she’d want that, it had been depressing there). But she explained she missed the trees and the lake and the sound of bugs and the tall grass to sleep in, and well, once she started, there was no stopping her. 

It started as all things did…just a few seeds, some gentle nudging, and continuous treatment. In just two years, it was something to behold. 

The indoor green space had grown larger than ever anticipated, eating up more space as people basked in the soft grass. A group of kids were playing kickball on the far east side, and a group of mothers were knitting to the west. People waved and greeted Coriolanus and Ant as they traveled through, all the way to the back area which was currently more jungle than traversable. 

Coriolanus used his foot and began to flatten the tall weeds, imagining how much space he might need.

“Make good choices,” He told Ant, setting her on the ground. 

Ant immediately found a caterpillar and Coriolanus was just glad she didn’t try to shove it in her mouth. 

When Lucy Gray found them, Coriolanus had begun pulling the grass out with his hands, making a neat rectangle of unturned grass.

“What are you two doing?” 

“Bug!” Ant said, holding up the tiny caterpillar on her finger gleefully, “Friend.” 

“What a beautiful friend he is!” Lucy Gray gave a faux gasp of excitement, “Now you be nice to him, you hear? He’s fragile.” She turned to Coriolanus, “And what about you, husband?” 

Coriolanus sighed, turning, disliking having to pause mid mid-brainstorming session, not when he was so close to riddling this out.

“Making a greenhouse,” He said. 

“Hmm,” Lucy Gray hummed, crossing her arms, “I told you that you ought to have a better place for those plants, you know?” 

“Yes, you did,” Coriolanus replied, hating to be proven wrong. 

“How will you make sure curious minds don’t go looking?” 

“A lock.”

“And you think that will stop it?” 

Coriolanus raised an eyebrow, “Ant may be a genius, but she’s not old enough to be picking locks…” He paused, “Yet.” Nor was she old enough to be on her own out here, but that was neither here nor there. 

“Not her, the other children.” 

Coriolanus turned around, realizing that Lucy Gray was not about to leave him alone, “If it’s mine, why would they be poking around?” 

“Because kids are kids. And why do you alone get a greenhouse?” She challenged. Coriolanus shrugged.

“People love me. I blessed them with children. I’m allotted a certain level of blindness; the same as you. If I say I want a greenhouse because you miss tending to flowers, no one will think twice.” 

Lucy Gray grumbled, but he knew he was right. Though Lucy Gray may not be the type to take advantage of that, Coriolanus knew himself well enough. 

“Well, you know,” Lucy Gray rubbed her chin, scrutinizing the area, “Maybe you’re onto something.” 

He winced, “What now?” 

“Maybe families deserve their own greenhouses to do whatever they wish with it.” Lucy Gray suggested. 

“Doesn’t that break the ‘everyone shares’ shit here?” 

“Well, you won’t be offerin’ up your greenhouse to the folk,” Lucy Gray snorted. 

“I’m not from Thirteen.” 

“Sure you aren’t,” She said teasingly, “But at this point, folks would think it, and you want them to continue thinkin’ it. They wouldn’t ever elect an outsider.” 

Coriolanus pressed his lips together. He didn’t like Lucy Gray speaking so plainly of his ambitions in public. He wanted his eventual win to feel well-chosen, like a gift he was so graciously accepting, not a prize he was lusting after, even if it was true. 

“We have our own houses. We don’t live in bunks,” Lucy Gray said, “And some simple greenhouses in a space utilized for nuthin otherwise won’t make people start being selfish. At most, they’re able to grow some flowers for their windowsill or a few extra carrots for snacks.” 

“Well,” Coriolanus shrugged, “If you think you could get the proper materials and take it on.” 

“I most certainly will,” Lucy Gray said meaningfully, “If only to get those blasted pots out of my house.” 

Coriolanus let a laugh curl in his chest, “Those plants are changing history, Lin.” He was used to using their fake names in public, something so natural that it just tumbled from his lips, the same way she used his. 

Lucy Gray’s face was twisted into a frown, “I don’t wanna hear it.” 

“You think histories are won with songs and dance?” Coriolanus snorted. 

“No,” Lucy Gray said firmly, “But I’d rather not think of it all the same.” 

Coriolanus shrugged. He knew his wife had had a firm stomach but even firmer stubbornness. He wasn’t sure why she still clung to such childish notions like that when she’d been through the Hunger Games and killed and won. Either way, the right sprinkle of hemlock in someone’s eggs or Queen Ann’s Lace brewed into morning tea was changing things, and Coriolanus was sure it was for the better.

Besides, after he handed off the parcel to Heavensbee, he didn’t give a fuck what it was used for, as long as Tigris never found herself near it. 

Sometimes, he thought about reaching out to her…but keeping her safe from assassination was all he could really muster.

XXX

Coriolanus sat on a rock, enjoying the breeze, as Hilarius carefully combed through the box of tightly packed leaves, berries, and stems, counting it all. 

“Well, it’s all there.” 

Of course, it is, idiot. 

But Coriolanus smiled as much as he could, “Is it ever wrong?” 

“Naw, but you can’t be too careful. Political gain and assassination is bigger than ever right now, for the right prices, for the right cause,” Hilarius said casually, almost jovially. That somehow made Coriolanus feel better. Arius knew the cost of winning, “If they manage it, Breen will-,” 

“Gaius?” Coriolanus tilted his head, interrupting Arius, recalling the former classmate “Aren’t you two friends?” 

“Formally friends.” There was a long pause, “He’s fallen for the same bullshit as everyone else, Coriolanus. Trust me, the world won’t miss him.” 

Coriolanus didn’t give a shit, not really. He had a passing interest in his former classmates, but it ended with their death. They couldn’t be interesting if they were dead. 

“Okay.” 

“He decided to try to auction off victor winners to the highest bidder,” Arius snarled, “It’s despicable. It’s disgusting! They’re children .” 

Coriolanus raised an eyebrow, intrigued. What an odious, awful fate to have. Certainly, it kept those victors in their right place, reminding them that they weren’t like Capitol folk. They were still just pawns.

It was downright diabolical. 

“I didn’t know Gaius had that in him,” Coriolanus said shortly, “The newest victor worth that?” As Lucy Gray always reminded him, the newest reaping had taken place only a week ago. And if Gaius was needed out of the equation, chances are that whoever won had done so. 

“Kid from District 8 named Woof.” 

Coriolanus rolled his eyes, “As if the Hunger Games wasn’t punishment enough, parents have to go out of their way to name their kids the absolute dumbest fucking names imaginable. God, I hate District names. What is he, a dog?” 

“He’s only seventeen, with more blood on his hands than most adults,” Hilarius said firmly, shaking with fury, “If it doesn’t work, I can’t…” He licked his lips, biting them, “He’ll be coming your way.” 

Coriolanus sighed, a noisy sound, “You think he’d accept that? Going from the Victor’s Villages to here?” Yes, those brought to thirteen young enough to not remember or those born here were happy of late, but Coriolanus knew all about the gleaming Victor’s Villages that had been introduced a few years back, a golden prize dangled in front of the children, the whisper of a future that was ‘better’, or at least it seemed so. 

“If he knew the alternative…” 

“Textiles aren’t an overwhelmingly helpful specialty,” Coriolanus grouched, “To take on another mouth and someone who likely wouldn’t be adopted out. Not really worth it, frankly. Now, if it was someone from three…” 

“God, Coriolanus, you’re awful,” Arius squinted at him, “And sometimes I just ignore it but…” He exhaled hard, “Why?”

“Why am I awful?” Coriolanus replied, bored, “Well-,” 

“No! I mean,” Arius looked confused and mildly horrified Coriolanus had an answer to reply, “Why are you doing this? Why do you give a shit about the revolution if you act like that?” He waved a disgusted hand. 

Coriolanus considered his question seriously. If things continued as they would, he’d need a reason to get the trust of other Panem citizens. Why would a former Capitol-born citizen turn against his own kind? 

“It’s an even trade,” Coriolanus said, “I help you topple those you hate and give safe haven for those you care about, you give us kids and resources. It’s transactional.” 

“If that’s all it was…” Arius shook his head, trailing off, “No, I just don’t believe that.” 

“I’m the same person you’ve always known, Arius,” Coriolanus said with a placating smile, “And my motives haven’t changed. I like to be on the side that’s going to win.” 

“I suppose that should give me comfort in my efforts. Sometimes, it seems…” He blew out, staring up at the sky, “Insurmountable.” 

“Nothing is, not with time. This system isn’t built to last, can’t you see that?” Coriolanus said, “And you have me.” 

“Because you will single-handily turn the tide,” Arius snapped, frustrated, “What ever would we do without Coriolanus?” 

“Watch kids die, watch kids be auctioned off, get caught stabbing political enemies…shall I go on?” 

Hilarius pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated, “Well, fuck, at least I know you’re in it for all the right reasons,” He replied, as much sarcasm dripping from his voice as he could, “Here I thought you’d say something about your kid.” 

“She has nothing to do with this,” Coriolanus said stiffly. 

“Sure she doesn’t…” Arius gave a twisted grin, “Plutarch just started talking. He won’t shut up. I take him to playdates with the other kids from our school and their kids. Sometimes I wonder if our two would get on if they ever met?” 

“They won’t,” Coriolanus replied sharply. His daughter didn’t need to dirty her hands with revolution work. God willing, he’d be around a long time to see this through. And, if he succumbed in some awful way, Lucy Gray would. Her reasons for the support were probably preferable to Hilarius anyway. 

Hilarius waved a hand to his workers, who began to unload Thirteen’s newest boon of food, seeds, and crates that Lucy Gray had requested, along with a few dirty children who meekly followed. Most were babies, the easiest to make disappear. Newborns die of mysterious circumstances all the time. Besides, the people of thirteen loved babies. Coriolanus, even having a former baby of his own, still didn’t see much of the appeal. He had loved Ant but wasn’t eager to revisit such days…the days of crying, screaming, sleeping, and pooping. It was arduous work for very little in return. 

Hilarius watched them with a kind, soft expression. 

“Sometimes I think Plutarch would be best with a built-in friend,” He said, far too casually. Almost like they were friends, “We’re not…trying, you know, but we’re not…not.” 

They weren’t friends, to be very clear. 

“I’m going,” Coriolanus said, turning before he could get roped into this discussion. 

“You ever gunna have a second?” Hilarius asked, posing the exact question Coriolanus knew he would, but hated to be asked all the same.

“I will see you in two months, Arius,” Coriolanus said swiftly, shutting down the conversation. He didn’t want to reply. He had thought about it, sometimes, more in the idea of legacy. The heir and the spare. His father had tried for that…and that hadn’t gone well. Some semi-buried part of him was afraid the same would happen to Lucy Gray, that there was only ever meant to be one Snow progeny per set like someone had cursed their name at the start of the war. And then, the very deepest part of him saw his love axed in half between Ant and Lucy Gray, and sometimes he worried that was all the love he had to give, and it wasn’t possible to stretch it out anymore. But he was not going to tell Hilarius that. 

“Sure, Coriolanus,” Arius said, grinning. They both knew he was never going to give a straight answer, “Keep good care of these kids, alright? They deserve far better than the Districts.” 

Coriolanus looked at them, in need of shelter. In need of love from his people. In need of all the things, only Coriolanus could provide. He may not feel any emotional attachment to them, but he did understand they were the key forward to his continual success and eventual presidential ascension. 

“I always do.”

That sentiment was the most truthful Coriolanus ever was in these meetings. 

XXX

Their second child was a complete accident.

Not, admittedly, that Ant was planned.

But Hilarius’ question bounced around Coriolanus’s head afterward for weeks, taking up his space, and if anything it made him more careful. 

But it was all for naught. The universe willed another child, so another child came to them anyway. At least, that’s how Lucy Gray saw it. She was deep in thoughts of what the universe gave or didn’t give, which Coriolanus thought was a bull. Fate was carved by one’s own hand, with precision and dexterity, not flung out on the ground for hapless individuals to stumble upon like finding a bushel of berries in the woods or a forgotten coin on the ground. Everything Coriolanus had was fought for, tooth and nail, and assigning his triumphs to ‘fate’ took away all of that. 

Perhaps because he was so staunchly frustrated by this, Lucy Gray just peddled it further. 

It was a soothing whisper she gave to the people of District 13 when they were not able to convenience naturally. She told them something stupid like ‘everything happens for a reason, and you were meant to adopt a poor District child’ or ‘the universe wouldn’t give you what you couldn’t handle, and you are stronger than this’. 

Whatever, if it kept people happy with open arms for the ghosts of Panem, children thought to be buried six feet under, Coriolanus would say that too.

But he didn’t believe it, not personally. 

And in truth, he knew what brought their second child to Lucy Gray and Coriolanus…

…Drinking. 

Lots of it. 

Not fate, not providence, not some divine future reaching back and placing a person into the timeline, but alcohol. 

Whiskey, to be perfectly exact.

One of the refugees that had been sent from the Capitol, a revolutionary with big ideas and an even bigger mouth, had been a hobby distiller. When he said one too many things to piss off people with power, he had to fake a death and flee here.

He was highly trusted by Hilarius and knew of Coriolanus. Not that it mattered; he wasn’t going to ever go back anyway to tell a soul, and Oak had made it very clear that Coriolanus and Lucy Gray’s real identities were a secret of national security punishable by death. 

Thoas Blush, used to the machinations of the Capitol, was easily bored by Thirteen. Lucy Gray took offense to this, but Coriolanus understood. If not for his own plans, he’d spend much of his time bored out of his skull here too.

Thoas was not a politician like Coriolanus. That was abundantly obvious. He had a sympathetic heart, and easily made friends with Lucy Gray, but climbing the ladder of power wasn’t something that intrigued him.

Alcohol, however…that did.

Thirteen didn’t have any previous rules about it, though Coriolanus was shocked on that front. He imagined that Korbin had wanted to squeeze out every ounce of joy from this former mausoleum masquerading as someplace people wanted to live. It was more of a waste of time before; resources and manpower were necessary for so much else.

But if Thoas wanted to make life a little more interesting down here, well, Coriolanus was hardly going to stop him.

Within two years of arriving - having pissed someone off very early in the revolution, he had his first batch of perfect whiskey. Coriolanus was seasoned and brought up in wealth enough to know the truly good stuff wouldn’t be ripe for drinking for years. Perhaps, he thought with a mild chuckle, it would be ready by the time he cinched his presidency. 

Still, the people of thirteen did not have refined palettes, and anything with more of a taste than moonshine or sickly sweet wine was instantly popular. 

Turns out Thoas was going to be just as rich here as he was back home.

He invited Lucy Gray over to try the barrel with him first, and Coriolanus was tugged to come too, like a pathetic plus-one pup. They got Oak and his wife to watch Ant, who doted on her like grandparents and met Thoas in his house, scattered in notes about flavor profiles or better ways to distill. 

“This is an obsession,” Coriolanus muttered.

“It’s boredom!” Thoas complained, “I think I’d wither away without this.” 

“Now, c’mon, it’s not so bad here,” Lucy Gray tried to cheer him up, “And I’m sure this batch will be fantastic!” 

“If it’s not, I’ll still get drunk off my failure,” Thoas sighed, “And disappear in a hole for three days. And it’s not bad here, but I could have really been a help in the Capitol!” 

He talked often about his ‘wasted potential’ there, which Coriolanus thought was stupid because the best quality of a revolutionary was silence until necessary. Thoas didn’t know the meaning of subtly. He’d miss subterfuge and secrecy completely even if it spat in his face. He was the sort that was instantly noticed, and not in a good way. 

“If you drink all this,” Lucy Gray said, motioning to the five barrels, “You’ll be dead.” 

“What a sweet death it would be,” Thoas muttered, “Better than how my grave currently stands. Accidentally drowned after getting drunk in a bathtub; the absurdity!” 

Coriolanus stifled a laugh. He’d personally thought Arius’ solution to be spot on. It was surely believable of Thoas. From what he’d heard, no one questioned the veracity of the cover for a second.

“Well,” Lucy Gray took one of the three glasses he’d set up, “Bottoms up?” 

Coriolanus sniffed it. A familiar waft met his nose. He felt himself sink into his seat, dreaming of a different life in the Capitol in which this was on command.

But if he was there, there wouldn’t be Lucy Gray. Or Ant.

And the thought of their lack of existence was enough to get him to brush aside such longings. 

“To Thirteen,” Thoas clinked the glasses, “May we endeavor through this.” 

Coriolanus tipped the shot back, the sharp bite hitting the back of his throat. 

“That’s incredible,” Coriolanus choked out, shocked at his own exclamation and the fact that Thoas made something drinkable, “It tastes just like Capitol Whiskey!” 

“Well, I did learn from the best,” Thoas sniffed, even though he’d just been sure this would be a dud. 

“Pour us another, Thoas. I didn’t get all the notes the first time,” Lucy Gray urged.

“Well,” Thoas held the decanter with a wicked grin, “If you must twist my arm…”

After the second shot, Coriolanus got the sense that this was not only good-tasting but extremely strong. It probably ought to be watered down with an ice cube and sipped leisurely over the span of a dinner or a clandestine meeting amongst powerful men and women. So by the second shot, all of Coriolanus’s good facilities had just floated away.

Naturally, after the second shot, a third, fourth, and fifth didn’t seem so unreasonable.

They stayed late into the night, commiserating about their previous lives in the Capitol. Lucy Gray sometimes added a sad, depressing story from life at twelve, like that she had to butcher her pet goat when she was young (and she was very attached to him) or that for fun, kids would kick around rocks. 

Coriolanus and Thoas could beat her by bringing up the Dark Days, sure, but it was more fun to moan about the nice things they’d left behind. And, in a sense, they regaled Lucy Gray with stories.

Coriolanus didn’t like talking about his former life often. There wasn’t room for regret, or he was afraid of how he may spiral.

It was easier when there was someone with their own experiences to blabber on about the clubs that they frequented, the parties they’d seen, or the gossip that once kept both on their heels. 

By the time they reached the bottom of the decanter, Coriolanus did have the sense to cut them all off.

“Plus, you want enough to sell off, don’t you?” Coriolanus pointed out to a pouty Thoas.

“Right again, old sport,” Thoas sighed, citing a nickname from an ancient novel pre-Panem that Coriolanus had only ever heard whispers of. Clearly, Thoas had been high enough to have read a copy of it. 

“We should go,” Lucy Gray sloshed her words, “The world is spinning!” 

“Have you ever gotten drunk before?” Coriolanus realized with a startled blink. 

“Not like this…” Lucy Gray said, trying to stand but tumbling immediately, “We sometimes got some ale at shows…but nothin’ like this…” 

Coriolanus and Lucy Gray stumbled like teenagers back through the halls of Thirteen, loud and obnoxious, giggly and unsteady. 

A few people sleepily peeked their head out into the hall to see what the ruckus was, but saw a young couple beside themselves with laughter and simply turned back inside, sometimes with an eye-roll, sometimes with an amused smile.

Coriolanus could hardly get his finger on the door handle to their room, using his body to shove it the rest of the way open. Lucy Gray’s fingers searched to close it and kicked it halfway behind them, the light from the hallway spilling into their main living room. 

“Oh, Coriolanus,” Lucy Gray whispered, “You’re funny when you’re drunk.” 

“I’m not,” Coriolanus argued, though he absolutely was, “Just tipsy.” 

Lucy Gray giggled, “Sure, darlin’, and I’m the president of Panem.” 

She pulled away from him, but Coriolanus’s fingers were tight on her wrist. 

“I need you, baby,” He whispered into her curls, inhaling the aged woody smell from the whisky still on her breath. 

Lucy Gray swallowed at his heady whine, going like jelly in his arms. He lifted his hooded eyes, seeing that the bedroom was simply too far away, and picked her up and set her on their kitchen table. 

Fingers fumbled for clasps of clothing on Coriolanus’s pants. Lucy Gray’s hand grasped his shirt, tugging it up over his head. Just as Coriolanus went to push up her dress, she grasped his curls, pausing him.

“Lights…” She murmured, shielding her eyes from the bulbs flicking above them. 

Her labor with Ant had been long and hard. She’d torn badly, from what Coriolanus had been told, and it had been a slow road to building back up to this. As insatiable as Coriolanus was for her, he hadn’t wanted to push it. And, once she was feeling up for it, parenthood seemed to intervene at the worst possible times. 

But they were alone tonight, and Coriolanus knew he wasn’t going to be able to walk away from her. 

Still, all the times that they’d had sex since Ant had been with the lights out, usually stealing moments in their bedroom with muffled moans against palms or teeth digging into the soft skin of each other’s hands. Coriolanus hadn’t thought it was…a specific thing. 

“Mhh, no time,” He said, his words coming out too fast or too slow (he couldn’t tell, not like this). He knew that the last thing he wanted to do was get up and walk five feet to the switch and back. He went to push the dress up again, but Lucy Gray straightened up, sobering fast. 

“Coriolanus, I…” She swallowed hard, “Please, lights.” 

Coriolanus stood fully too, “I’ve seen it all before, Baird,” He reminded with a humored smile. 

She didn’t smile back, “Not like…this. Not properly since…” She trailed off, her hand protectively going to her stomach. She focused on him and Coriolanus felt himself staring, not unkindly, but confused. 

“You think…” He tried to connect the dots, “That I wouldn’t…that you’d be…” 

“Kids sure change a person, physically and mentally,” Lucy Gray cracked a weak smile, but it was obvious she was feeling downtrodden. 

“Do I seem less interested?” Coriolanus asked, pressing himself against her. 

“No, but boys will fuck anything that moves,” Lucy Gray teased. 

“Some boys, not me,” Coriolanus replied, lifting her chin. And it was true. He may not be a model citizen, but she never had to worry about him stepping out on her for someone else. The idea of having sex with others almost physically repulsed him. He was sometimes surprised that he desired Lucy Gray so much.

She was just special like that. 

Lucy Gray’s lip quivered, as she realized that he was telling the whole truth. It felt like he was on the precipice of saying something he’d been unsure about saying for a while now, years even, but Lucy Gray lifted her mouth to his for a hungry kiss. 

Coriolanus took this opportunity to push her dress all the way up, putting a firm hand on her stomach to keep her in place.

“Just as I thought,” He said, standing back, “Still fucking stunning.” 

Lucy Gray went to argue, but Coriolanus found her clit, and any arguments she had died with a moan. By the time she had finished on his fingers, calling out his name, Coriolanus was so hard it almost hurt.

She wrapped herself around him as he pressed into her. 

The alcohol made his lips loose, and he talked more than he usually did. 

“How could I ever think the mother of my child was not worthy of this?” He whispered into her neck as she shuddered underneath him, “How could even think for a second my wife has lost her beauty? You’re mine, Lucy Gray Barid, and I’ll never want anyone else.” 

Lucy Gray’s fingers dug into his hair, “All yours,” She panted, “Oh, god, Coriolanus-,” 

Plats and glasses shattered on the floor as he moved, pushing her down to tug the neckline of her dress down. 

So beautiful, so beautiful, only for me…

He realized he was whispering his inner thoughts out loud as Lucy Gray shuddered into him. Her warm lips just drove him harder.

He’d missed this; taking her like he fantasized, and knowing she’d let him contort her however he wanted. She might talk back, but she always fell like putty in his fingers.

“You were put on this Earth to fit me perfectly, Lucy Gray,” Coriolanus mumbled, not just talking about sex, but wouldn’t correct her if that was her assumption. He was too far gone in his own climax to even remember he’d said that.

And when he finished, they made it to their bed, but by no means did they go to sleep for a very, very long time. 

XXX

When Lucy Gray barfed for two weeks straight a month later, Coriolanus had a creeping suspicion of what the culprit was.

When she didn’t bleed for three months, it was pretty much confirmed. 

Though Thoas had not been present in the room at the time of conception (and Coriolanus shuddered at the singular time he’d had such a thought), Coriolanus still absolutely blamed Thoas and his whisky for such circumstances. If he’d been sober, he would have been more careful and had better precautions.

Lucy Gray was unbothered.

“I always wanted a big family,” She shrugged, “Grew up an only child, always wanted a sibling. And when I joined the Covey band, got a sense of what I missed out on.” 

“Not too many,” Coriolanus asked, going white at the idea. 

“Well, mister, we’ll just have to see what fate gives us,” She responded, purposely riling her husband. 

“It has nothing to do with fate. I know you’re smart enough to know how babies are made,” Coriolanus argued. 

“It’s more fun to claim the other way,” Lucy Gray agreed, ruffling his hair, “And in time, you’ll thank me. Those who are lucky enough to get pregnant twice are lauded as near gods. Imagine what would happen if we went for three or four or five-,” 

Five children? 

Coriolanus gave a whole body shudder.

Large families were meant for Districts, who were sure half their kids would die off or be reaped. Capitol families had reasonable sets of two or three. 

“I’m just playing with you,” Lucy Gray reassured, “You’re so easy to get like this.” 

Coriolanus disliked the thought that she could get under his skin just like ‘that’. But then again, she’d always had that ability. She was the only one. Thankfully, no one else had been able to snap him apart like a wishbone and dig into his soul. If anyone else had that power, well, Coriolanus might just have to break his rule not to kill anyone else. One person tugging at his innards was bad enough. 

Coriolanus huffed, “Not five kids. Promise.” 

Lucy Gray rolled her eyes, “Alright, alright. I swear on the grave of my ma.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “Spoil-sport.” 

XXX

Coriolanus’s second child, and his one and only son, was born in the spring. 

Immediately, it was clear that he looked markedly different from Ant. 

He was like a perfect mix of the two of them, but Coriolanus knew his face well enough to admit he favored Lucy Gray more. 

His skin was lightly tanned like he’d spent his years before existing frockling in the sun. His hair was curly, not in the way Coriolanus’s was, but in the sort of ringlets that Lucy Gray had. The color of his hair matted against his head, was a warm toasted gold, like someone had left a bowl of nuts out on the stove for candies. His eyes were still Coriolanus’s, however, the same piercing blue that his older sister wore. 

But his face…Coriolanus didn’t think it was possible, but he loved that child from the moment it screamed because all he could think was he looked exactly like Lucy Gray. 

They had the same nose, the same dimple on their cheeks, the same mischievous smile, and the same shape of their eyes. Even the way he moved seemed reminiscent of his wife like he was dancing through his first breaths. 

“Oh my god, I knew it, I knew it,” Lucy Gray cried, kissing his head, not caring for a second he was still dirty. Her second birth had gone smoother than the first with far less concern. The doctors were calling it a miracle; usually, second births were harder on mothers on Thirteen, if they even managed to carry to term. 

She had. Early on, she’d started referring to the bump as ‘he’, and Coriolanus had thought she was insane. But here he was, eating his words.

“This one looks like you…you should name him,” Coriolanus said, feeling like any name he could muster wouldn’t be good enough. Ant had the sharp features of a Capitol born, whereas this baby was soft and round. 

“I did have one,” Lucy Gray admitted, “It came to me in a dream.” 

Coriolanus stifled a grin, “Of course it did.” How else would she name their second child but some imagined prophetic vision? 

“You sure you don’t care?” Lucy Gray asked. 

“I…” Coriolanus didn’t know how to explain it. She probably expected that he would need total control. Or that perhaps he did not care about this child enough to warrant picking a name, but both were as far from the truth as it could be, “Crassus is a shitty name, and if you name it, well, no one would get mad at me for not picking my father’s name.” 

It was a bad lie, but the best he could muster.

“Alright,” Lucy Gray said, and he wondered what sort of color name this child would have, what roots from twelve he would embody, what parts of Lucy Gray she’d give to him freely, passing down a memory in his namesake. 

She made a big fuss about doing a formal announcement (everyone was dying for news. As she’d predicted, being pregnant twice did make her and Coriolanus extremely popular), and perhaps that should have tipped Coriolanus off. But he liked the idea of the fanfare of it, like his son was a little prince in the way Ant was so beloved, and couldn’t say no.

But Lucy Gray knew he’d agree quickly.

She hadn’t lost a smidge of her craftiness. If so, she’d only gotten more clever.

So, Coriolanus had to fight back the horror on his face when she showed their three-day-old baby to a crowd of eager civilians and proudly announced the new name; Sejanus Colie Rose . 

Coriolanus had perfected his poker face, now more than ever was it necessary to look like a doting, loving husband who absolutely was not blindsided by his son’s name. 

An apparition flickered in the back of the room under the thunderous, gleeful applause. Sejanus Plinth lounged, leaning against the back wall, smirking. He looked the same as he had on that last day, the day he died, but his neck was cracked funny.

He didn’t look at Coriolanus first; he was focused on Lucy Gray with their new son in her arms. He was smirking like the pair had been co-conspirators in this plan, meeting in her dreams to hatch Coriolanus’s worst nightmare. 

As though Sejanus could feel Coriolanus’s horrified panic, he met his old comrade’s eye and gave a cheeky salute.

When Coriolanus blinked, the ghost was gone and Coriolanus could not be sure if he’d imagined it or if some deeper forces existed in life, mocking him. 

He was furious with himself for not badgering Lucy Gray more for a hint of the name. But he’d never imagined this. 

But it was done. His son’s name was Sejanus. 

Even if he wanted to walk it back and pick something else, which would have been near impossible after such a public spectacle, Lucy Gray made damn sure to tell everyone and their mother who his namesake was. 

She made sure that there was no way in hell that this name was ever going to change to something else. 

She sowed the seeds of her genius with every person she talked to, bouncing Little Sejanus on her hip. 

“It is just a handsome name, I so agree,” She’d gush, “Where did I find it? Well, I did it in honor of my husband’s late best friend. He just misses his friend so much, it just seemed right.” 

Or-

“Sejanus and Oleander were basically brothers. It devastated Oleander when he died, shortly before we fled. I think that’s what really drove us here, you know?” 

Or-

“How did Sejanus die? No, it’s fine you ask. Oleander is so proud of him; he was an early revolutionary who died trying to help free two innocents from imprisonment. We can think of no better way to honor his legacy! I know he’s looking down on us both smiling.” 

Well, Coriolanus couldn’t say anything to refute this. And by gods, if anyone ever found out he died because of Coriolanus to stop him from joining the revolution, Coriolanus’s whole ‘bad Panem boo’ platform would be quartered and hung.

They’d call him a fucking hypocrite! They’d never understand that he was just picking the winning side, and previously, he hadn’t thought it would be a bunch of unorganized complainers. 

But oh, Lucy Gray was crafty.

He couldn’t even ask to call Little Sejanus by this middle name, citing that the memory of the original Sejanus was just ‘too much’, because she’d picked the middle name Colie. 

When she was asked what led her to that, she often gave an innocent shrug, “Oh, can’t say, I just like the ring of it. It sounds like a melody together, doesn’t it?” 

But Coriolanus knew.

She’d fucking made his middle name ‘Coal’. Sure, she could pretend behind closed doors it was to honor the tradition of colors as middle names, and Coriolanus supposed this was close enough, but it was so much more than that.

This whole name was a reminder…she knew what Coriolanus did. She knew why Sejanus really died and who was behind it. 

And she was never going to let him forget this. Never going to let him forget the memory of the person who had trusted Coriolanus, who had fought for the very things they both pushed for and never let Coriolanus forget where he died and why he died there.

Coriolanus didn’t need the ghost of Senjanus haunting him in the halls. His son would do that perfectly fine.

This seemed to be a warning; Lucy Gray was disquieted with his chosen side business of poison. 

This name seemed to say ‘ Even if you didn’t pull the trigger, you still are guilty ’. 

Or, maybe Lucy Gray enjoyed getting the upper hand on Coriolanus. And if that was the case, if she was so clever and cunning that she’d managed to trap him in such a way that he would do the same if he’d gotten such a golden chance to some poor unassuming victim…Coriolanus was infinitely proud of her.

Either way though, it was nearly impossible to tell.

Chapter Text

Despite such an unfortunate name, Coriolanus loved Little Sejanus just as much as he loved Ant. He absolutely outright refused to straight up call him ‘Sejanus’, though, because there was always a whisk of dark curly hair out of the corner of Coriolanus’s eyes like he was summoning Sejanus Plinth back from the dead.

Other nicknames were equally as difficult to pin down. 

Coriolanus already staunchly refused to call him by any middle name moniker, claiming that Colie was worse. Cole, though a real name, was out just by the principal of it all. 

Calling him Little Sejanus was a mouthful, but Lucy Gray claimed calling him Little Say or Say wasn’t going to fly either. Since she’d gotten them into this mess, it was Coriolanus’s opinion that she didn’t have much of a leg to stand on, but it would be confusing for the poor child for their mother to call him one thing and his father another.

So he supposed Little Say wasn’t any good either.

Using his initials, SC, felt like marbles jumbling around in Coriolanus’s mouth. 

And calling him Jan? Well, somehow that was the worst of all of them.

It was Ant, in the end, who coined his nickname. Sejanus was a bit too much for her to say, and she said the ‘Seja-’ part of his name so quickly that it was barely heard. From early on, she had taken to calling him ‘Nus’. However, with her adorable lisp, the ‘s’ came out all funny, and soon enough she was just calling him ‘Nu’. 

And, well, Coriolanus didn’t hate it. 

Not anything he would have ever chosen, granted, but Nu was saddled with his name now. Best make the most of what he could.

There was a certain whimsical nature to his children’s nicknames, Ant and Nu, something that Coriolanus would have hated if he was still in the capitol with a frigid wife and perfectly clean children. But his kids here, with Lucy Gray as a mother, dug their hands into their food, played in the dirt of the communal green space, or rolled around on the floor with their classmates and Lucy Gray delighted in every second of their wildness. 

So yes, secretly, Coriolanus liked the way their names flowed together, like two melodies intertwining perfectly. 

To describe Nu in regards to music was incredibly well put. From early on, as a newborn in his crib, he responded best to singing. While her songs always soothed Ant, it enchanted Nu. It wasn’t hard to tell that he was drawn to music and instruments and rhythm in a way that Coriolanus and Ant just weren’t. 

“Well, thank god,” Lucy Gray had laughed, “You know I love Ant, but she can’t carry a tune to save her life.” 

It seemed to make sense that the child that took after her took in every way. Though Lucy Gray did not pick favorites and was deeply offended at the idea of such things, she did dote and foster Nu’s affinity for music with a vigor that she didn’t with Ant. When she went to perform on the stage, she brought Nu with her and set him down where he could feel the vibrations of her tapping toes or the purr of a violin. 

Nu was also just so happy. It was like someone had accidentally dumped all the sunshine and joy into this child when they were creating him. While Ant was often smiling, it was only when she got her way (almost always). Nu was happy whether or not he did or didn’t. 

Low maintenance, that’s what Lucy Gray called him, but Coriolanus thought that was a bit rude. To have such a sunny disposition, while nothing he’d ever aspired to, had its own benefits. It was hard to hate someone who was just so darn happy. 

If Coriolanus thought time skipped quickly with one child, it was just nearly blinking with two and months had flown by.

District 13 continued to thrive, the Hunger Games rolled on, and Coriolanus continued his planning. 

XXX

“Winner worth anything this year?” 

“Blight?” Arius replied, “District 7.” 

Coriolanus weighed it, “Lumberjacks. They’re usually strong, aren’t they?” 

Arius looked pale, “They called him Bloody Blight. He managed to get an ax early on, and, well…as his name suggests, he decimated the competition. It was one of the most gruesome yet.” 

“Can’t be worse than the year that a kid ate someone else’s innards,” Coriolanus replied evenly, “Wasn’t that so bad it was pulled from viewing?”  

“I don’t want to talk about this,” He sighed, “I don’t know.” 

“Do you think he’s worth anything to use?” Coriolanus repeated, focusing on his fingernails, somewhat bored. 

Arius dragged a hand down his face, “It’s hard to say. He has the drive, but he has a family. A big one. He did it for them. I don’t know yet.” 

“Isn’t that your entire job?” Coriolanus asked, frustrated, “Figure out who needs to be sent to the Underworld?”  

“It’s not, actually,” Arius said snippishly, “I’m putting a whole revolution in motion! Not just ferrying your pomegranates and children.” 

“You? You’re in charge of everything?” Coriolanus asked, shocked. He looked up now. 

“Why are you so surprised?” 

“Why do you personally come to see me? Don’t you trust someone else to do this dirty work, if I’m such a chore?” Coriolanus replied. 

“Because I don’t trust you,” Arius replied with a grin. 

Smart boy, Coriolanus thought, though both he and Arius were closer to 30 than 20 and certainly no longer ‘boys’. 

“Anyway,” Arius hopped off the log he’d been sitting on, “I’ll get the blindfold on Septimus Lurch.” 

“Wait,” Coriolanus grasped his wrist, “Who?” 

“You know, the person who poisoned Gaul’s best scientist?” 

“No, you said it would be an Avox,” Coriolanus said, frustrated, “A woman.” 

“Yeah, well, things changed quickly and we had to burn someone else.” 

Coriolanus bit back a frustrated groan. The revolution was in no shortage of disquieted workers, Avoxes, and maids and stewards, who would love nothing more than to shove it to their upper-class slave drivers. And those were easy in every sense of the way.

Easy to make disappear; you didn’t even need to fake a death; no one cared if an Avox went missing.

Easy to please; these people came from basically nothing so to gain any autonomy was a bonus. The trouble with capitol folk joining the revolution, and needing refugee status, was that they required so much effort.

Thoas, despite the success of his whisky and friendship with Lucy Gray, was such a whiner. It drove Coriolanus insane! 

He didn’t know Septimus Lurch. He had no idea if he’d be better or worse than Thoas. It was unknown and Coriolanus did not like to not know things.

“Look, I’m not more pleased about it than you! In fact…” Arius gnawed on his nail, “We might have to go quiet for a bit.” 

Coriolanus frowned, “Why?” 

He didn’t care what the revolution did, as long as it didn’t stop resources and children from coming his way and didn’t upend his poison business on the way out. 

“Well, I mean, aren’t you worried ? That so many people who dislike the current regime are currently ‘dying’? Don’t you think that things will get suspicious at the capitol?” Arius pointed out. 

Coriolanus wanted to laugh.

God, how was Arius the head of this? He was so dumb sometimes. 

“Get less mouthy folk,” Coriolanus said, which just made Arius even more furious, “Oh, please, that’s your worry?” 

“I’m serious as shit, Coryo!” 

“I know you are, unfortunately. No, Arius, you’re fine.” He replied condescendingly. 

“Don’t take that tone with me! You’re not the one on the home front risking it all!” Arius said, having the gall to come up and poke Coriolanus hard in the chest, the most angry that Coriolanus had ever seen him, “If things go south, everyone I care about will die! And you’ll just crawl back into your hole.” 

“Arius,” Coriolanus said, grasping his hands before he did something really dumb like slapping him, “Think logically about this. These people are political threats to Ravenstill. It’s far better for him to take responsibility that he’s quieting these issues; people will think that he’s doing it, and it works in his favor. He’d never admit that he’s not behind it.” 

“But-,” 

“Of course, he probably has his ‘best people’ on it to figure out what’s happening, but you just have to be smarter. But no,” Coriolanus rolled his eyes, “Ravenstill isn’t going to come out and say ‘hey, all these people that are trying to topple me publicly? I actually haven’t been killing them!’ It would make him look weak.” Coriolanus crossed his arms, “And Ravenstill didn’t get voted because he’s such a nice guy . No, he was brutal in the war.” 

Arius looked a little less pale, but still unsure, “I mean…” He swallowed, “I guess.” 

“And either way, he’s due to die soon, isn’t he?” Coriolanus said, “Oh, not because of us! He’s just ancient, he has to be.”

“I mean…” 

“The whole thing will die with him. And the next person will probably take it the same. Yes, you’ll be in a cat and mouse with the capitol until one of you wins out, but that’s expected, wasn’t it?”

“We’d rather be unknown.” 

“Tough shit.” Coriolanus waved a tired hand, “Whatever. Bring Lurch out. I’ve been out too long. Let’s leave Blight where he is.” 

Arius gave a long sigh, “Fine.” But Arius stood for a long time, and finally swallowed hard, “I’m just so tired sometimes, Coriolanus.” 

“They never said running a revolution was easy,” Coriolanus tried to ease. Revolutions were good for Coriolanus’s line of work and for his entire platform of power in Thirteen. Arius just needed to suck it up. When it seemed tough love wasn’t going to get Arius out of this funk, Coriolanus placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Arius, you’ve saved countless people who may have actually gotten Ravenstill’s goons to kill them. You’ve made sure countless kids have better lives and are loved. You’re sowing the seeds for a better tomorrow; think of how many atrocities may have been birthed if you didn’t get rid of who you had. If you want to quiet it down, sure, just focus on the kids.” 

“Yeah,” Arius replied quietly, “I guess you’re right.” 

“I know I am. You’re good, right?” You won’t be a problem, will you? 

Coriolanus had no qualms of getting rid of one revolution leader with cold feet. He wasn’t sure who would replace him, but with enough time, Coriolanus could find another bright-eyed eager capitol-born with enough disillusionment to take this place. It would be a lot of work, but it would be better than having this entire thing topple out from underneath him. 

“Of course I am,” Arius took a step away, “I was just being stupid. This is too important to let slip.” 

“Good,” Coriolanus purred, in his most convincing, most friendly voice, “Now, let’s talk about Flickerman.” 

XXX

When Oak announced his presidential retirement at the start of January 22 ADD, it was not a shock to anyone. In fact, most had anticipated his retirement the previous year, as had Coriolanus, but he was sure that Oak was getting to the end of it all. 

He was coming on in his years, or the job had aged him, or perhaps both. While he and his wife had never managed to originally conceive, they’d taken on a group of siblings that hadn’t wanted to be separated. This took their time from something leisurely to zero time at all, which was hardly a surprise to Coriolanus. He was just better at juggling his time between kids and ambitions, but he knew few others had such skills. 

Plus, Oak and his wife, in between waiting for their ‘forever kids’, had become adopted grandparents to Oak and Nu and took that job very seriously.

Finally, Oak had never wanted to be president for long. It was only at Coriolanus’s whisperings, all those years ago, he’d taken it on. 

If he knew how much Coriolanus had changed the fate of Thirteen with his hand, Oak may be horrified. 

Coriolanus was 30 that year; he would have much preferred for Oak to retire last year, meaning he would have gotten the Presidency before his 30th, but he would still be sworn in before that date, and meet his own promise by a technicality. 

Still, Coriolanus pretended to act shocked and honored when Oak publicly backed him for the next choice.

His competition was genuinely a snooze. Coriolanus almost wished for someone a bit more exciting, just so that this political race wouldn’t drag on so much.

His opponent was nice, and that was an issue. Too nice. 

He was also District 13-born, but that was just about the only thing going for him. But, with how many people were coming from Panem, it was starting to matter less and less. Coriolanus and Oak were really pushing for ‘One people, One Thirteen’, or the idea that it didn’t matter if you were born here or not, you were still a citizen just as much as the next. So, that sort of undercut his opponent’s whole platform. 

Who wouldn’t want to vote for Coriolanus? 

He had a wife and managed to produce two children, which was indeed quite a feather in his cap. More than that, people saw him as a ‘family man’, someone who would have the best interest of future generations as well. 

He was military and had proven himself in a strong protectant for Thirteen.

He was at the front of every innovation. 

His wife had bettered Thirteen in innumerable ways, bringing joy back to people who didn’t know the meaning of the word.

He’d secured children, legacy, for those who thought they’d never reach such honors. 

Genuinely, there didn’t seem to be any good reason not to vote for Coriolanus, even if Oak hadn’t thrown his support toward him. And hell, even if Thirteen citizens were uneasy about voting for an interloper, well, he nearly had enough support in political refugees to make up for it. 

But he knew he’d get the natural-born citizens anyway. 

Coriolanus promised that he’d work to end Panem’s dictatorship. He made sure not to make any hard and fast promise about when it would be, but he did say that within his lifetime, District 13 would be able to return to the upper side of the Earth, once Panem was gone. 

That made people foam at the mouth, basically.

His opponent could barely promise salt in the mess hall.

It was an agonizing two months of politicking, not that Coriolanus hated doing so, but because it was so dreadfully easy. There wasn’t anything fun in running against someone who was never going to win in the first place. Thirteen could have at least given him someone with a little pizzaz! 

Coriolanus had to look genuinely like he was trying during all this, that there might be a chance in hell that he wouldn’t win, and that was by far the most grueling thing he’d ever had to do. It was hard not to ridicule his opponent more than politically needed, with some light rebuttals, but Coriolanus persevered.

And, when he won (in a landslide, by the way), it took everything in Coriolanus not to roll his eyes when, in his speech, he had to go on and on about how worthy of an opponent the other guy had been. 

Coriolanus Snow took the presidency out from under all their noses two weeks before he turned 30. 

When he was asked at his inauguration, with Lucy Gray beaming by his side and his children grasping his pants leg, if he thought he’d have the longevity as Korbin had (who had been president for almost 9 years, quite a feat to the people here), Coriolanus had laughed.

“I’ll be president as long as they want me!” 

But that was a lie; Coriolanus had no intention of ever letting this position go, and he’d do anything to ensure that never happened. 

In his dreams, lofty and far-flung, he saw himself as the President of all of it; of Thirteen, of Panem, and of everything in between. 

He had no reason to think that if this had been within reach, that wasn’t also just the musing of a power-hungry man, but a certainty.

Panem just needed to fall, and Coriolanus needed to be the hero who swooped in, cleaned up the mess, and selflessly took the weight of leadership.

XXX

Some immediate changes were made within the first year of President Oleander Rose taking office.

He got rid of those awful jumpsuits. They all smelled terrible too, considering that they were made for utility and not ease of washing. Now that they were getting bolts of cotton from Panem, and Coriolanus had his eye on bringing in a textile victor from the most recent Hunger Games, there wasn’t any reason to stay like this. It didn’t mean people could wear whatever they wanted; Coriolanus still tightly controlled the types of fashion here, still utilitarian in nature, but allowed Lucy Gray creative control over colors. 

And, as he expected, she made it look like a rainbow was throwing up on the linens. 

Like a good husband, he indulged that whimsy.

Secondly, he did away with the temporary tattoo schedules. His arm, after nearly 12 years of scrubbing it off every night, was permanently reddened.

This was more a personal preference. If his citizens were so dumb they couldn’t remember their schedules, then that was their own fault.

Plus, with the recent influx of citizens, Thirteen didn’t require everyone there to wear thirty different hats. They were able to focus on whatever they best fit into.

He kept the requirement that everyone needed to be militarily trained. After the student’s eighteenth year, they were mandated to spend two years as military scrubs. From there, it was decided where they excelled. The options were to continue on in the military, work in politics, work in the kitchens, work in the science division, work in textiles, work in machinery, work with children and education, or work in gardening and agriculture. Having people siloed into jobs, instead of knowing a bit of everything, was also easier to control. 

While Coriolanus had understood the necessity for such practices they’d previously adhered to, it was outdated. 

Plus, giving people a taste of autonomy garnered him more gratitude than any other President had reeled in before. 

The people loved Coriolanus.

No, they loved the entire Presidential Family of the Roses. 

From Linnet to Olly to their children, they were fawned upon as near royalty. If this is how the Snows were treated prior to their monetary downfall, Coriolanus didn’t understand how his father could be so dumb and fuck it all up with his choices! He didn’t understand how dear old Crassus could have made such boneheaded decisions to lead their family to ruin. 

No, Coriolanus was smart enough not to keep all his eggs in one basket.

He needed all his fingers in all his pies to stay there; the hand in politics here, the hand in children coming in, the hand in getting rid of those in Panem who were issues, and the hand in making plans to get rid of the Hunger Games as a whole.

His father had put everything he had into the deal that had gone bad.

What a colossal mistake.

Anyway, Lucy Gray felt uncomfortable by the fanfare and power. Nu was only four, so he didn’t really understand it. All he knew was that he was the most popular kid on the playground, every parent wanting their child to become the President’s son’s best friend. He had his pick of the litter. 

For Nu, the fact he had so many new friends, also all children who didn’t understand political gain, made him endlessly excited. He would be up and ready for pre-school early in the morning, bouncing on the balls of his feet, blabbering non-stop about who he was going to play with that day. 

He was just a kid, and Coriolanus was okay with this. He didn’t think Nu was ever going to be some great political thinker, but he didn’t need him to be. 

But Ant? Ant was six, and she understood.

Coriolanus saw so much of himself in her sometimes. 

It frustrated Lucy Gray as a parent that Ant took after Coriolanus so much. Not long after Coriolanus took office, they were called into her 1st-grade class to talk with her teacher.

“Is there anything the matter? Is she alright?” Lucy Gray asked frantically, but Ant was sitting on a chair in the classroom, arms crossed furiously, staring down with such an angry expression it made Coriolanus laugh.

“Thank you, Mr. President, for taking time out of your day,” The teacher said, shaking his hand, “Chantilly is fine…” She hesitated, trailing off. 

“I’m happy to be here,” Coriolanus insisted, and that was true. It wasn’t a facade to care about his kids and their going on. He genuinely did; he also hated being second to know anything. The fact it just made him seem like a better person was an added bonus, “Why, though, is my daughter sitting apart?” 

“She’s on a time-out,” The teacher replied, now more sure, “Until this was figured out.” 

“What was figured out?” Lucy Gray asked, eyebrows furrowing, glancing back at their daughter with a narrowed glare. They both knew Ant well enough not to jump to defend her immediately; Ant was a little devil when she wanted, and gave them both grief. 

“Chantilly was running a…well, I don’t even know how to describe it. A system, I suppose, where she was controlling who got to sit with her at lunch, who got to play with her, and who she would invite to her house, based on the quality of things given to her by the other students. It started out fairly innocuous, with extra desserts or someone painting a portrait of her as a gift, but we caught Chantilly with an heirloom watch. Because I knew who owned it, and pressed Chantilly about where she got it, it all came out today. A little girl was so desperate that she raided her mother’s jewelry drawer. You understand my concerns, don’t you?” 

Coriolanus beamed. 

If there was any question about his daughter’s parentage, this was a sure-fire paternity test.

Lucy Gray slapped his arm, “Ollie, stop grinning!” 

“Sorry, I just,” Coriolanus exhaled, “I don’t mean to laugh, you are right, this very serious.” Coriolanus sobered his expression, “I just…Ant gives us the run-around at home so much that we shouldn’t have been surprised. I’m just laughing at that.” He lied. 

“She does know how to control a room,” Her first-grade teacher agreed. 

“We will talk to her,” Lucy Gray insisted, “And make sure anything that was taken from other students is returned tomorrow.” 

“Thank you for being so understanding. We appreciate her tenacity, however-,” 

“Ant needs friends. Not underlings,” Lucy Gray said, looking at Coriolanus pointedly. Inwardly, Coriolanus wasn’t sure why her underlings couldn’t also be friends, and why those ideas were mutually exclusive. 

“Yes, exactly,” The teacher went to the door, “Otherwise, Ant has no other issues. She is incredibly bright, as I’m sure you both know, and is usually very polite in class.” The teacher waved Ant in, who stomped over to her parents.

“Oh, Ant,” Lucy Gray pinched her nose, “Whatever will we do with you?” 

At home, in their new Presidential quarters where they had more bedrooms than they knew what they were meant to do with, Ant reluctantly showed them where she kept her dragon’s hoard of gifted items. 

It was a little wooden box; an art class from a previous year. She lifted the lid and showed her parents an impressive haul of bartered goods; from silly things like friendship bracelets and half-dead flower crowns and pretty rocks to more concerning items like other jewelry or pocket watches. 

The most concerning, which Coriolanus did agree should have never gotten into her little paws, was a pocket knife.

Lucy Gray shrieked when she saw that, “Ant who gave you this? Do you even know what it is?” 

“It’s a knife, Mom,” Ant replied, in the same tone Coriolanus used when he was explaining something utterly obvious, “From Nicky Leeg.” 

“His father is military,” Coriolanus groaned, “And I’m sure he’s missing it.” 

“He was my Best Friend for three days because of that! Until he tried to get it back yesterday; I told him no take-backsies. He cried, but I hate crying babies.” 

Lucy Gray was staring down Coriolanus with murderous intent, as though he’d instructed her to do all this!

Though he had to admit, he admired how smoothly and effectively she’d run this little prize ring. It was well-thought-out and very successful. 

At least his kid was building things out there in first grade, instead of trying to eat crayons! 

“Put your shoes on, Ant,” Lucy Gray said in her most furious tone, “We will be returning it all tonight.” 

Ant pouted, “Dad!” She cried, “It’s not my fault they gave them to me.” 

“Sorry, kiddo, Mom is right,” Coriolanus replied, ruffling her hair. Inwardly, he wished he could tell her that he was so proud of her and that if he had his way, she’d be able to keep it.

But there was only one person he feared in his life and it was his wife. And it was clear that Lucy Gray had no intention of letting Ant keep the spoils of her con. 

“It’s not fair!” Ant stomped her little feet, “They knew what they were doing when they gave it to me!” 

Lucy Gray held the box high above her head, “Darling?” She asked tiredly, “Can you explain to your daughter why we’re returning everything?” 

“Some of these things are really important to families,” Coriolanus said, kneeling, “And dangerous for you to have.” 

“I know, that’s why they got to be my Best Friend for longer with better items.” 

“It’s a non-negotiable, Ant.” 

Her lip quivered and she looked up at her parents with wide, liquid eyes, “How will I choose my best friends now?” 

“How about people you like spending time with?” Lucy Gray suggested earnestly. Ant made a disgusted look. Coriolanus had to choke back laughter. 

“Chantilly-,” Lucy Gray warned. 

“ Fiiiiine .” Ant huffed, as though they were asking her to gnaw off her own arm, “I guess that some of them are fun to play dolls with.” 

Lucy Gray muttered something, holding the box underneath her arm as she went to get Nu ready for this adventure. 

Once alone, Coriolanus sat on her bed and patted his lap. Ant crawled right up, still furious. 

“Oh, Ant,” Coriolanus chuckled, “Look, kid, your mom just wants you to play fair. And I know that it’s no fun sometimes, alright? But you have to.” 

“Why?” Ant asked. 

“Because it’s the way the world works.” 

Ant looked up, so perceptive, eyes narrowed, “You don’t play fair,” She said, so matter-of-factly. 

“I do it when it benefits me. Do you think this ploy benefited you in the long term?” Coriolanus asked, knowing she was smart enough to be leveled with. 

Ant considered it before giving a shake of her head.

“Exactly. Now you’re without anything and in trouble,” Coriolanus nodded, “Do you know what I mean?” 

Ant frowned, “So…I need to choose friends…to make Mom happy?” She asked slowly, “You don’t have friends, Dad. Why do I need friends?” 

“I have Oak.” 

Ant pursed her lips. Coriolanus would consider Oak a friend, even if it wasn’t the sort of friend the way Ant’s mother had friends, like Thoas or Tawny. 

“I won’t get in trouble again if I have friends?” She asked slowly.

“If you choose friends based on shared interest, and not a lottery or prize system,” Coriolanus added, making that distinction clear.

“Do I have to like them?” Ant asked, annoyed. 

“Ideally, to some level.” 

Ant seemed perturbed by that. 

Lucy Gray came in, Nu bundled for the harsh air conditioning of the halls, “Are we ready?” 

Coriolanus set Ant down on the ground.

“She understands what she’s done wrong,” Coriolanus said, “And what to do to make it better.”  

“Mom, can I ask Jane and Lynn over for a playdate tomorrow? I play make-believe with them sometimes and we have a lot of fun.” 

Lucy Gray let out a long sigh of relief, “Of course, darlin’! That sounds like a fantastic idea. I’ll make some treats for you all. Now, let’s go.” 

They spent the afternoon apologizing to a handful of parents with children in the first grade, and Ant has an award-winning apology for each family. Most laughed it off, as ‘children just did the darndest things’, and were grateful for their personal items returned. Plus, who was going to yell at the President? 

When they returned home, as Lucy Gray was making dinner, she turned to their daughter.

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson, little lady,” She said, pointing a spatula at Ant, who scribbled at the dining room table. 

“Yes, Mom. I have.” Ant replied. 

And she did.

She was crafty enough never to need her parents to be called in ever again. 

XXX

Their third and last child was not an accident at all. 

In fact, she was very much planned. 

The idea began not long after Coriolanus became President. He had seen the way people loved his two children, and how celebrated he was for it, so naturally, Lucy Gray’s joke about three or four or five began to percolate in his mind.

Though, of course, four or five children were out of the question.

But three? Well…

The idea of even desiring more than two was very strange to Coriolanus. Most capitol families only had one kid, maybe two if they really had any maternal or paternal instincts. More than that was seen as District-like , which was as good as a slur. 

However, both of his children were so unique that Coriolanus wondered what it would be like to roll the dice again and see which parent they would favor. Or, it would be a wholly new personality that Coriolanus couldn’t even imagine yet.

The more the idea of a third child, standing with their brother and sister, began to take form…the more Coriolanus wanted it. 

It was more than just that parental desire too; Coriolanus liked Lucy Gray when she was pregnant. He’d never been as feral for her as when her stomach swelled with his child. 

But he had seen the strain on her body too. He watched her pregnant twice, neither walks in the park, so to speak. Both had taken a toll on her bones, and he would never subject her to such a punishment without her a-okay of it. Not that contraception existed in District 13…for a District desperate for children, the idea of getting rid of one for non-medical reasons was blasphemous. 

So they watched her cycles carefully, she drank her herbal teas on the down-low, and made sure there wasn’t going to be a third ‘surprise’. 

But Coriolanus wasn’t shy about his feelings on the matter. 

Deep inside Lucy Gray, as she clawed at his shoulders and bit to draw blood, his hips stuttered and pushed deeper and deeper still. 

“Hmm, you want to come in me, darlin?” Lucy Gray whispered in his ear. 

“Fuck-of course,” Coriolanus whined, and her hand came up, snaking around his throat, putting light pressure, just enough to make him inhale hard. 

“You want to fill me up?” She teased, her lips at his ear. When Coriolanus just groaned, her fingers tightened, “I asked you a question, dear.” 

“I do, I do-,” Coriolanus’s fingers pulled on her dark, curly hair, “I want to fill you so much that it’s dripping out of you for days. I want to fuck you until there’s another baby in there,” He admitted. 

“Mhh, you like me when I’m pregnant, huh? You do seem particularly…ravenous,” Lucy Gray snickered. 

“I can’t keep my hands off you,” Coriolanus agreed. 

“Well, fill me up, Coriolanus. Make it hard for me to walk tomorrow,” She dared. 

And afterward, they didn’t talk about it. Not to assume any of it was truth by any means. It was just bedroom kink. 

But it was a kink that snaked its way into multiple other romps, each just as dizzying as the first time. 

Nothing got Coriolanus off faster than Lucy Gray whispering such naughty things in his ear.

When they actually decided that it wasn’t just a healthy bedroom spice of life, it was when Lucy Gray and Coriolanus came to visit the newest biological mother of Thirteen. While people loved their adopted children no different than if they’d given birth, there was still certainly a certain…prestige to those who could conceive naturally, and it was rare as it was. Over a year, only thirty or so children were born. 

Coriolanus remembered how many pregnancies the capital had; it was the thing one did there. You graduated, married, and had a child or two. There was never a shortage of Capitol Youth.

And Lucy Gray would talk about how there could be thirty births in a week! One day, she recalled, there had been fifteen in just 24 hours. 

So the difference was certainly felt. 

As President, Coriolanus took his public image very seriously. Plus, he knew all the children because he was the one bringing them in, and took it upon himself to choose the homes, wanting to properly pair children with adults (everything had meaning, naturally), so he ought to know those who came in other ways.

The new parents were, of course, ecstatic to see their President and First Lady. Lucy Gray blabbered on about newborns and what to expect, giving out her sage advice. After a while, they asked Coriolanus if he wanted to hold their newborn son.

“Oh, you keep him tight. They grow up far too fast,” Coriolanus said and meant every word of it. 

“Please, Mr. President,” The mother said, holding her son aloft, “It would mean the world to me.” 

So Coriolanus took the baby. Squishy, as they all were, pink-faced and generally displeased to exist so far.

“You’ll like life, I promise, kid,” Coriolanus said, “My wife here makes it beautiful for all of us.” 

Lucy Gray blushed, still not used to the praise he showered, though he did it frequently. It would never be said that Coriolanus paid his wife no attention or due respect. 

Lucy Gray came up and ruffled his baby-soft hair.

“That new baby smell is somethin’ else,” She sighed. 

She looked up at Coriolanus, sharing a private and meaningful smile with him. He had a moment where he thought about how…strange his life was. How he could exist here with Lucy Gray, with everything he ever wanted, and she wasn’t trying to strangle him (well, only when he wanted to, and only in bed). But he’d imagined he would have to pick one or the other…it had been a long time since he’d even thought about those two possible paths…the one where he stayed with Lucy Gray in 12 or the one where he managed to claw his way back to the Capitol. Both of those options melted away like snow in the spring, so unappealing that it made him nauseated to think of either. 

But he’d done it.

Life sure was odd. 

In this moment with Lucy Gray, he imagined that maybe she might feel the same way he felt towards her. He wondered what she thought about all of this…did she ever think about her other paths too? Did she ever year for something else? Or was she, like him, gladdest of all that it had worked out in such a way?

If Lucy Gray was yearning for that cottage and the tall grass and someone who wasn’t him, Coriolanus didn’t think he could bear it. Yes, he knew she wasn’t ever going back, but…

But…

Coriolanus didn’t take rejection well.

So it was safer to never pose such a dangerous question at all.

She had agreed to marry him, if only under mild duress. She upheld all the promises they’d made and never acted like it bothered her to do so. Things were good…Coriolanus wasn’t sure he’d ever really known what good had meant prior to this, to be honest.

They left the new couple to rest and the walk back to their apartment was silent. They picked up Ant and Nu from the daycare, Ant blabbering a thousand miles a minute about what all her classmates did today.

When Lucy Gray asked Nu how his day was, he just smiled, “It was good, Mama. I got to paint a sun.” 

And he showed them his finger-painting, which Lucy Gray immediately affixed to the wall with a whole lot of praise and kisses.

“What an artist he is, Coriolanus! Don’t you agree?” 

“He takes after you, I don’t have a creative bone in my body,” Coriolanus agreed, patting Nu’s head. 

As they played before dinner, Lucy Gray leaned on the counter, watching them. 

“What’s that look, wife?” 

“I just sometimes think that three is a nice number. I like uneven things. Even things weird me out,” Lucy Gray said in the way she always did, saying everything at once but nothing much at all. 

“Hmm,” Coriolanus responded, terrified to admit the idea had already been percolating for a while. 

It needed to seem like he’d thought about it for a long time, otherwise Lucy Gray would petition for five kids or something, thinking it was that easy to sway him.

But inwardly, he was agreeing.

Three seemed like a good number indeed.

XXX

This birth was the hardest one yet and was enough to change Lucy Gray’s tune that she may want more children after this. 

Coriolanus had been through this twice, so he did not think he’d be so bothered, but something about watching Lucy Gray in labor for nearly two days, sweat clinging to her forehead and plastering her curly hair down unsettled him. She tried not to show that it had gotten to her, but as they rolled past twenty-four hours with no change, Lucy Gray was near delirious. 

“Give me somethin’, anything,” She panted, writing on the bed, “Oh, god-,” 

“This baby is just stubborn,” The same doctor who had delivered Coriolanus’s other two assured, “She’s not in any danger. Some births are simply like this.” 

“Is there anything to be done?” Coriolanus asked, aghast. Lucy Gray was nearly talking in tongues, swearing up and down with everything she had. 

“Wait it out,” The doctor said apologetically. 

“That’s some bullshit-,” Lucy Gray swore from her bed, “Whoever this little one is, they fully intend to make our lives interesting, huh?” She asked dryly. 

“Aren’t they already?” Coriolanus asked tiredly. 

But he stayed vigil next to Lucy Gray, whose pain could not be helped, for nearly another full 24 hours. 

When the baby was born, she was pitifully small - smaller than the first two - and did not make a sound. 

“Is she breathin’?” Lucy Gray was frantic, “Why isn’t she cryin?” 

The baby, in Coriolanus’s arms, was certainly breathing. She was staring up at Coriolanus with wide, depthless dark brown eyes, so shimmery that it was nearly black. 

“I’m not sure she knows what to think of life,” Coriolanus chuckled, “See for yourself.” 

Lucy Gray took her into her arms, laughing at once. 

“I’m sure being in Mama seemed much better, huh?” Lucy Gray asked, “Look at the way she just…stares.” 

“It’s a bit unnerving,” Coriolanus grumbled, who never thought a newborn could freak him out. 

She was bald, unlike her siblings, and Coriolanus doubted her dark eyes would fade into the blue ones Ant and Nu had. Once again, she was so different than either of her siblings, something Coriolanus didn’t think was possible. He had fully expected their third child to be a clone of one or the other. 

Speaking of which-

“Mom! Mom! Is the baby here?” Ant thundered into the hospital wing, eager and stumbling over herself. Her curls were in complete disarray like she’d run through the halls of Thirteen to get here. From the winded Oak wheezing behind her, apparently, that was right on. Oak’s wife came in with Nu, holding his hand as he nicely walked. Their children - Cab, Pinn, and Berry - were waiting patiently at the door. They were older - 7, 9, and 12 respectively - and about as close to cousins as Nu and Ant would get. 

“I told you, Nu!” Ant was triumphant, “I get a little sister!” 

Then, she stuck out her tongue.

“Chantilly!” Lucy Gray chastised but was too tired to say much more. 

“That’s nice too,” Nu said, coming to gently pet her head, “Hi there, I’m your brother, Sejanus.” 

“Do you want to hold her?” Coriolanus asked, helping Nu settle into a chair. Ant hovered like a wasp. 

“Why isn’t she crying?” 

“She’s just exhausted, hon,” Lucy Gray said, “Being alive is surely a tiring thing.” 

“She’s looking at me, Mom.” 

Lucy Gray gave a purr of laughter, “Sure is, little Ant.” 

“No, like… looking at me.” 

Nu examined her thoughtfully, “I think she’ll be really smart,” He announced. Maybe Nu had something there.

Maybe she was just soaking it all in, silent and observant. 

“She’s a baby. All babies are dumb,” Ant corrected, “They don’t know anything !”  

“Not her,” Nu insisted. As though the baby knew that her brother was defending her so fiercely already, she reached out and grasped his finger with his tiny fist. Nu bounced excitedly, “Mom! Look at her! She likes me!” 

Ant crossed her arms, “Not fair! A sister was meant to be my best friend!” 

“I’m sure she’ll love you both,” Coriolanus chuckled. 

“But she’s supposed to love me more,” Ant pouted, “That’s what Jane says sisters do. Her sister likes her more than her brother.” 

“She’s a newborn,” Lucy Gray rubbed Ant’s shoulders, “It’s hard to say what she will or won’t like yet. Let’s just give it time, alright?” 

Ant looked ready to argue, but instead looked up at her mother with her sky-blue eyes, “Can I name her?” 

Nu whined, “No fair! I want to name her!” 

“Neither of you will be naming her,” Coriolanus said quickly, not wanting another ‘Sejanus’ surprise popping up on him, “I’ll be naming her.” It was only fair. He hadn’t named Ant or Nu, only Ant’s middle name. 

“That’s right,” Lucy Gray agreed, if only not to cause a civil war between her two other kids, “And he has a great name picked out.” 

“What’s her name, Dad?” Ant asked, eager. Coriolanus coughed into his hand. 

“It’s a surprise.” 

It sure was; it was a surprise even to himself, as he had no idea what to name his second daughter.

XXX

She did pick up a name, though Coriolanus thought about it for nearly three weeks. 

In the end, she took her name from how quiet she was. Lucy Gray often complained that she ‘breathed like the dead’, which was to mean she made nearly no noise at all, so often one or both of them would stumble around in the middle of the night, sure she’d suffocated, just to find her wide-awake, staring back at them. Coriolanus wasn’t sure she ever slept, to be honest! 

After a while, it became a sort of…joke. 

So when he offered Elysia, Lucy Gray just snorted.

“Fitting.” 

She was, as it turned out, the beauty of the Underworld. 

Coriolanus also suggested a middle name of Indigo, to keep with tradition, and to make reference to her wide, unblinking eyes. Not that her eyes were blue (though he hoped they may be) but more to show how dark they were, like a night sky devoid of stars. 

And, well, Elysia Indigo Rose just had the sort of melody to it that Lucy Gray adored. 

From there, Elysia became ‘Elly’, unless she was in trouble, which so far they hadn’t needed to use yet.

“Maybe it’s just Ant who is a handful,” Lucy Gray said, voice hopeful. 

“Well, Ant’s trouble is worth six kids, at least,” Coriolanus snorted, “It would only be fair.” 

And then they patted themselves on the back for raising two out of three kids to be quiet and respectful, figuring that they had broken the code by Nu.

Future Coriolanus would look back on this moment and laugh, and laugh, and laugh.

They had no idea what sort of trouble they were in for with Elly.

Chapter Text

A season of sickness sweeping through District 13 was not often a cause for concern.

Their doctors were ready to deal with anything that cropped up, able to easily quarantine those affected away . 

But every once in a while, the flu spread so fast and so suddenly that by the time the doctors knew which way was up or down, everyone and their mother had it.

Not Coriolanus though. He had an award-winning immune system, something that was clearly passed down to his children. 

While all the other little snot-nosed youth were whimpering with fevers, his kids were kicking around the house, bored out of their minds.

To make matters worse, Lucy Gray fell sick on the third day.

He fretted over her until Lucy Gray threatened to breathe the sickness on him too. 

“I’m fine, Coryo, it’s just a little sniffle,” She said, rolling her eyes dramatically. 

Be that as it may, she was in no state to watch their children when the school programs took a temporary pause.

They, of course, tried to make her better. Ant burrowed into her arms and told Lucy Gray some truly unhinged nighttime stories that truly had even Coriolanus a bit concerned, Nu drew a picture of her with a big smile that said ‘Get better soon, Mama’ and Elly found a spider to give to Lucy Gray, as though that would make her immediately cured. Perhaps the jump-scare of a giant bug suddenly scuttling across the comforter was her masterplan, though, it didn’t quite work as Lucy Gray was unbothered by anything creepy and crawly. 

“Well, I’m married to you, hun,” Lucy Gray teased as she scooped it in her fingers, “The biggest creepy crawly of ‘em all.” 

Still, having the children sit at her bedside bothering her was not going to make her less ill faster magically.

“We’re going into the office,” Coriolanus announced on the third day, “Grab your books and your toys; we’ll be there a long time.” 

Being the president came with certain perks, such as taking two days off to watch your super-humanly non-sick children. But it also came with some downfalls, such as the necessity - at a certain point - to return…especially in the middle of a mild crisis. 

If he could, he’d off-hand his children to Oak to babysit, but he and his wife were also down with the sickness. So was Tawny, regrettably, who worked in a pinch for just a few hours.

Lucy Gray suggested Thoras, but Coriolanus didn’t have the right words to even describe how much he hated that idea.

You see, Coriolanus didn’t trust him. He didn’t trust anyone, frankly, other than Lucy Gray and Oak. And even Oak was suspect on a good day. 

The idea of giving his children over to someone else made his skin crawl. No, they needed to be well-vetted by him…and he didn’t have the time for that right now. Plus, he didn’t want anyone saying that Oleander Rose couldn’t handle watching his children for just one night! 

Ant ended up complaining so much that Coriolanus made a quick stop to beg Jane’s parents to allow their daughter to come to hang out with Ant for a few hours (not that they would ever say no to the President). Coriolanus asked Nu if there was anyone he wanted to bring to the office since it seemed he was just short of opening a daycare, but Nu just shook his head.

“I just want to read, Dad.” 

What a strange kid he was, but whatever, easier for Coriolanus. 

He put all the kids where he could see them, right in front of his desk, and started in on the gigantic pile of backed-up paperwork that was waiting for him.

He got about two hours into work, a pitiful amount for the tasks before him before Nu was crying .

“What’s wrong?” Coriolanus asked, annoyed to be interrupted. Knowing Nu, he probably just saw his own shadow.

“They’re being mean to me!” Nu cried, throwing a finger toward his older sister. Ant stared up at her dad with big, liquid blue eyes.

“We’re not even touching him,” She said with that mischievous grin that Coriolanus knew so well, which absolutely meant that while they probably weren’t touching him, they were being mean.

And testing his patience. 

“Opposite sides of the room,” He grouched, pointing to twin armchairs as far away from each other as they could be. 

“But I like this side!” Ant cried. 

“Fine, take this side, I don’t care,” Coriolanus carded his fingers through his hair. 

“Why…do…I…have to move!” Nu was almost in hysterics, “They’re the ones calling me names!” 

“Because…” Coriolanus groaned, running his hand down his face, “Because Daddy needs to do some work.” 

“But I like this side of the room too!” Nu wailed. 

“Dad told me it’s mine,” Ant stood with her hands on her hips, “Shoo!” She pushed him. It wasn’t that big of a push, but Nu toppled over like she’d slammed into him. He stared up at his sister for a second in shock before he burst into tears. 

“I barely touched him!” Ant tried to defend herself as Coriolanus got up, coming over to Nu and sending a furious glance at his eldest daughter.

“Chantilly, you’re digging quite the hole,” He warned, “Please, go over there,” He said, waving toward the couch. 

He scooped Nu up gingerly. 

“Hurt anywhere?” He asked. 

Nu just continued to scream.

“Alright, okay, uhm…” Coriolanus sighed, sitting him on the top of his desk, “No broken bones…no blood…I think you’ll live, kid,” He tried to joke. 

“I…I could have died?” Nu asked, his eyes impossibly wider. 

“What? No-,” 

But it was too late. Nu burst into tears yet again. 

Coriolanus gave the most haggard sigh in the universe; the teachers were probably gleeful these two weren’t in the same grade, because otherwise Coriolanus was sure they would have all quit by now, and he wouldn’t have blamed them!

He looked back.

At least Elly was being good, he realized with a sigh. She was in her little world, as she often was, sitting in the back of the room with…

Oh, fuck, what the hell was that in her hand?

Coriolanus nearly leaped to turn Elly around to see she was playing with-

“Where did you even find that?” He asked in horror, trying to grasp the squiggling animal out of her hands. 

“Ssssssnake!” Elly cried happily, her chubby fingers holding the squirming green noodle firmly. 

“Give Dad the snake, Elly,” Coriolanus growled, holding out his hand.

Elly pouted, pulling it closer to her.

“Mine!” 

“A snake?” Jane shrieked. 

“No! No snake!” Nu agreed, crying even more tears that Coriolanus didn’t even know he still had. The only one who was not freaked out, besides Elly, was Ant. 

“Let me see! Let me see, Dad!” She pressed against his shoulders, reaching out, “Ooh! It’s a pretty snake too.” 

“Get back; it might bite,” Coriolanus wrestled with Ant while also trying to grab the snake away from Elly. 

The door to his office opened. 

“Erm, Mr. President…is this a bad time?” 

Coriolanus looked up to see his head of military , Coin , standing in his office with a report. And he could just imagine how this looked through his eyes; Jane screeching in the corner, Nu bawling like someone had amputated his leg, Ant trying to elbow past her father to grab a snake, and Elly waving her hands around with not a fear in the world. 

“No, it’s a perfect time,” Coriolanus replied with as much sarcasm as he could muster. 

Coin took action immediately. He picked up Ant swiftly, much to her dismay, and sat her down next to her friend.

“Stay there,” He commanded. 

Coin turned to Jane, “Dear, do you think our President would ever let any harm come to you?” He asked.

Jane quieted her wails, “N…n…no?” 

“No, of course not. It’s just a little snake, nothing to be afraid of at all.” 

While he was dealing with the girls, Coriolanus managed to trick Elly into giving him the snake by passing off something of much more interest to her; one of his ceremonial pins.

She immediately put it in her mouth.

Thankfully it was wider than her baby jaws. He’d have to heavily sanitize it , but at least he had wrangled the beast away.

He opened a desk drawer and put it in there, a problem for Later Coriolanus. 

Coin was soothing Nu, and had placed a little bandaid on his leg. 

“Sometimes, you just gotta pretend you’re fixing it,” He said to Coriolanus with a shared parental smile. Coriolanus thought that was dumb, but Nu had stopped crying.

“Don’t ever mention this to Tawny,” Coriolanus groaned, referring to Coin’s wife, “Lin will never let me hear the end of it once it gets back to her.” 

“No sweat,” Coin chuckled, “Do you know once I picked up the wrong baby from daycare? I realized right before Tawny got home and managed to run back before she even knew. Parenthood is hard.” 

Coriolanus shook out his head but didn’t outwardly agree. He didn’t want to be seen as someone incapable, though today, it certainly was testing him. 

“You need help, sir,” Coin said, “If I may be so bold.” 

“Yeah, well,” Coriolanus groaned, “Schools are down. Lin’s sick. Oak’s sick. And would you let Thoras watch a toddler?” 

Coin shuddered, which was answer enough.

“Right, so, well…” Coriolanus trailed off, going to shuffle some papers on his desk, “That’s hardly your issue. Let’s just dive in, shall we?” 

But Coin hesitated. 

“Mr. President, I have a daughter right at the ripe age for babysitting. I’m sure she’d appreciate some extra credits,” He suggested. 

Coriolanus scowled, “I don’t know.” 

He didn’t know; honestly. It was the same problem; he didn’t trust anyone with his children, and a teenager was worse. 

“Alma is a good kid,” Coin promised, “And if it would make you feel better, she can watch them in here, while you work,” He suggested, seeing right through him. Coriolanus locked his jaw, “It’s fine, I needed the same assurances when Alma was little.” 

“Well…” Coriolanus exhaled, “A trial run couldn’t hurt.” 

Coin was higher on the list of people who he could possibly trust, which was perhaps the only reason that Coriolanus relented even an inch.

Not because these kids were running him ragged, mind you. 

“I’ll go get her right now,” Coin said, eager, “She won’t let you down, sir!” 

Within fifteen minutes, Coin came, a lanky girl in tow. 

“Thirteen years old, aren’t you?” Coriolanus asked, counting back to her birth, not long after he and Lucy Gray had first arrived here. 

“Yes, Mr. President,” Alma replied meekly, unable to meet his gaze. 

Coriolanus scowled. 

He hated people like that; people without a backbone, people who just did what they were told. Well, he liked them as his citizens. He hated them as those who existed in the top of his world, such as a babysitter to his children. Something about that matter of being was so… foreign to him that it unnerved him.  

But he had no other options this late at night. What was the harm of just a few hours while he made sure the damn district wouldn’t fall out underneath his fingers? 

“Ground rules; don’t let Ant bully her younger brother, don’t let Elly get her hands on something weird again, and make sure Nu doesn’t go into hysterics. That one may be difficult.” But, if she succeeded, that would be a worthy test, wouldn’t it? 

“I’ll make sure of it, sir,” Alma said. 

“See?” Coin beamed, “Now, let’s go sit at the back of your office…not necessarily talks for young ears.” 

Alma watched her father go to the back of the room with a razor-sharp gaze, something juxtaposed to her soft-spoken words. That was enough to make Coriolanus pause, curious, but Coin was tugging him into the two-person meeting.

Coriolanus didn’t hear a peep from his children the entire time, which was a miracle in itself . 

By the time they finished, Coin lingered a moment at the door. 

“Should Alma…” He trailed off with uncertainty. 

Coriolanus looked at the mountain of work to do , which would take hours. And then he looked at his children, all perfectly content. 

“Well, a few more hours wouldn’t hurt,” He shrugged casually. She wasn’t going to do anything to his kids while she was right in front of him, “We can discuss the amount of payment tomorrow.” 

When Coin left, Coriolanus gave an awkward, stiff nod to Alma. “Keep doing what you’re doing,” He commanded, and dove into his work.

By the time midnight rolled around, Coriolanus had punched out three days' worth of work to basically be caught up right to where he ought to have been normally. He was exhausted; he stretched out and came over to where Alma was. Elly was asleep on one couch, Nu on the other. 

“What are you girls doing?” Coriolanus asked, chuckling as he bent over their shoulder. They’d gotten hold of an old picture of Korbin, something Coriolanus didn’t realize was still floating around. They’d taken some markers and had more or less defiled the photo. He wondered if they even knew who the man in the picture was.

“I think he needs a buck-tooth,” Ant said, holding the photograph aloft, “We’ve already made him bald and stuck a knife in his head.” 

Coriolanus held back a snort. 

“Where’d you get that?” 

“Alma found it.” 

Coriolanus blinked at the teenager with a curiosity. She met Coriolanus’s eyes now, not as quiet and scared as she’d shown herself to be in front of her father. There was a sense of confidence that hadn’t existed a mere four hours ago, and Coriolanus doubted that she’d found it within the time she was here. No, she’d been masking it. 

Well, Alma Coin was suddenly much more interesting to him. 

“I figured you wouldn’t care,” Alma said evenly, “And perhaps would even find it funny.” 

“No lost love for the old President?” Coriolanus asked, intrigued to see what she’d say. Her father had been on Jackson’s cabinet too. 

“I…” Alma floundered for a second before swallowing and squaring his shoulders, “I think he was an idiot, frankly.” 

“Hmm, that so?” Coriolanus leaned against his desk, “And what of Oak Finchly?” 

“Nice,” Alma said, but the way she said it indicated a certain disdain for niceness, a weakness. 

Coriolanus grinned, “And me?” 

Alma looked at Coriolanus, almost star-struck now, “A genius,” She mumbled, almost embarrassed. 

“Well, what providence your father suggested you for this job, then,” He chuckled, scooping Elly up in his arms and gently waking Nu. 

“Providence?” Alma pulled a deep, angry look, “If I hadn’t put the idea in his head…he would have never thought of it!” She defended herself. Eager; almost too much so. But she was young. Coriolanus was willing to look over her childish whining due to a piqued interest.

“And why would you do that?” Coriolanus asked and then groaned. Did he have a secret admirer? Great; he couldn’t think of anything worse than a teenager with an inappropriate crush. He understood, of course. He was the President, someone people naturally fawned over. But if it was true, she definitely couldn’t be the babysitter. It just wouldn’t be right.

“Because…” Alma said, “Because…” She blushed bright red. 

Oh, fuck. 

Coriolanus gave a long sigh, “Look, Alma…I get it. I mean, it’s natural to feel the way you feel. And trust me, I’ve very flattered,” He gave a chuckle , “But if your dad knew-,” 

Alma made a weird gasping sound. 

“Ew! I don’t have a crush on you!” Alma looked up, jumping back, eyes wide with alarm and staring at Coriolanus with disgust, “I want to be you!” 

Then, she slapped her hand over her mouth, as though she was sure that Coriolanus was going to send her to the top of Thirteen with just a match and a potato for snapping at him like she had.

Instead, Coriolanus was relieved.

Beyond relief, actually.

And more than that…he was curious. 

You see, Ant did take after him, naturally. There wasn’t much to teach her, because she had it within her. Nu had no interest in his ways. Even at the age of 5, that much was abundantly obvious. And Elly? Well, that was hard to tell, but it would be years before he could start molding her anyway. 

He wasn’t sure if Alma Coin could be molded, but one day…someone would have to take over his poison business, wouldn’t they? And he couldn’t live forever…if Coriolanus could choose a worthy successor young…well, the idea of Coriolanus Snow could live forever.

Why hadn’t he ever thought of that before? 

Still, the more he ruminated on it…the more it seemed so obvious, so clear. 

All at once, like everything just falling perfectly into place, the Rose family gained a babysitter and Coriolanus gained a secret protege. 

XXX

Now that they had both Alma and Oak as babysitters to rely on, Lucy Gray and Coriolanus found themselves with a bit more time on their hands. 

This meant that when Lucy Gray’s 30th birthday rolled around, Coriolanus intended to make a big deal out of it.

Though Coriolanus had done away with the depressing jumpsuits (even if Lucy Gray painted hers until there wasn’t an inch of canvas visible), they still weren’t flush with textiles , so most workers owned one or two similar, drab items. Sometimes, a certain berry or plant or leaf could be harvested for color, as long as it was not culinarily necessary, but even then, the colors were muted and quieted.

But Coriolanus had instructed Arius to commission something from Tigris for Lucy Gray; it was dreadfully simple because he knew Lucy Gray would balk at what he really wished to dress her in. It was just a wrapped dress, the fabric adorned with tiny purple flowers, with a few whimsical lifted on the shoulders and down her side. 

Coriolanus wondered if Tigris had an inkling of what this was as she made it. So similar to what Lucy Gray wore in District 12 (but better, of course), and so unlike the Capitol fashion. Or did she think it was some rich fuck obsessed with a girl the world believed to be long dead? 

Anyway, Lucy Gray was so moved to tears that she almost cried when she opened the box. Coriolanus watched tears gather in the corners of her eyes, but she pressed her lips together and swallowed them back.

“This makes me feel like Covey again,” She said simply as she slid it on, and it clung to her perfectly, “And I haven’t felt like that in such a long time.” 

“Isn’t Covey a lifestyle?” Coriolanus teased, hating to see her sad. It was what she always told him.

Lucy Gray let out a ripple of laughter, “I guess you’re right to use my own words against me. And maybe I ain’t Covey anymore…” She licked her lips, staring up above her, to the hundreds of interlocking walkways before there was any inch of sun, “Because I think they’d all kill themselves if they had to live here.” 

“But…” Coriolanus frowned, “You’ve made it better, haven’t you?” 

Lucy Gray sighed, “Of course, Coriolanus, but you can stare at a picture and it still ain’t the real thing.” At his expression, she patted his cheeks, “Awe, don’t listen to me. I’m just reeling that I’m near 30; seems impossible, darlin’.” 

Coriolanus wished he could take her above ground; of course, he did.

More than that, he wished he could dress her in far better things than this. Most of the Capitol fashion was gaudy, but he’d dress her in such classic things that it would turn the heads of even the most fashion-forward as they marveled at her. She’d be a trendsetter. She’d be dripping in diamonds, bathed in glitter, and rolling in color. 

But it would be very out of place for her to wear anything like that here, even for a birthday, so all he could give her was a simple cotton dress.

All fussed up in that, with Coriolanus wearing his nicest suit, they went to Thoas’ for a birthday ball in Lucy Gray’s honor. Thoas even went as far as to create a special wine just for Lucy Gray.

“Why hasn’t he ever done that for me?” Coriolanus huffed as they walked through the halls, “I’m the President!” 

“I’m sure if you asked him, he would.” 

“It’s not about asking,” Coriolanus grouched. 

“Well,” Lucy Gray shrugged, running her fingers along his chin, “I guess I’m just so damn likable.” 

And wasn’t that the truth? 

But Thoas would never throw a party with just one meager variety of wine. No; he was Capitol folk, where it was not unusual for entire cases of expensive liquor to be decimated in just a few short hours! 

Coriolanus knew better than to be roped into doing something stupid while he was drunk, which is why he tried his best to stay always two or three glasses behind the rest of the party. It was easy with a whisky; something he could slowly sip, meant to be savored at the back of the tongue. 

All that went to shit when he was challenged to a card game where the stakes only grew higher, and higher, and higher.

He would have never agreed if he knew that Thoas was cheating.

Sure, Coriolanus was cheating too, but only because he didn’t know the game well enough to be naturally gifted at it . A stupid card suite, close to poker. 

He was too drunk by the end of it to really recognize his own embarrassment, but he could almost taste it in the back of his mind, sharp and biting. He was sure everyone was surprised that their President was such a lightweight (or, fuck, so it seemed- what the hell did Thoas put in this?). 

He remembered Lucy Gray chortling as she nudged him into Thoas’ room, on his bed, with promises that she’d come back with a glass of water.

When he woke again, the apartment was quiet. The general party had moved on or been kicked out. 

A tall glass of water, the precipitation sliding down the glass, sat next to him. The door was slightly ajar into the living room, the warm light spilling in front of him.

Coriolanus’s head felt like it had been stuffed with yarn and his throat had been filled with cotton. He focused hard on closing his fingers around the glass, bringing it to his lips, and drinking it slowly.

With each gulp, it dissolved some of the fuzz hanging around his mind, allowing him to think easier.

As he acclimated, he heard Thoas and Lucy Gray in the living room. If he rolled to the right, he could just make them out on the couch; Lucy Gray with a glass of wine that she nursed, and Thoas with an entire bottle on his lap, drinking straight from the lip of it. 

He focused just on Lucy Gray for a moment; seeing her like this, dressed like the Covey, made him think of all the years spread out between them like they were pages of a novel, and he could count them out. Time changed everything, including her, though not for the worse. Her cheeks were a little less full, her jaw a little sharper, and her eyes were a warmer brown. Her body was that of a mother, but not the mother that Coriolanus had wispy memories of. 

Though he had known that his mother had adored him, she had been all hard edges and graceful lines. It was only when she had wrapped her arms around him so fully that he was embraced with the smell of roses on her skin that he’d truly felt safe; Lucy Gray looked like someone that anyone would take safe harbor in, naturally welcoming. 

He knew the time had changed him too. Sometimes he felt himself falling through time, unable to stop himself. Whenever he got a moment to pause and catch his breath, he wasn’t sure which side of the coin he’d landed. Was he a better kinder person for having someone like Lucy Gray behind him, or was he worse and more bloodthirsty for having to claw from the very, very bottom again, like fucking Sisyphus and his stupid rock. 

And in the wake of gasping, the weight of years gone pressing into his skin, he wasn’t sure which side he’d prefer. 

Lucy Gray and Thoas were toasting. 

“To thirty!” Thoas said. As Coriolanus stared at him, he wasn’t sure exactly how old Thoas was. He was always just some changeable age; older when it suited Coriolanus in his mind and younger when it didn’t. But as he stared, he realized that maybe Thoas’ peppered hair was merely a style choice and less an indication of his age and perhaps he was closer to the both of them than Coriolanus had assumed. 

“It certainly doesn’t feel real. Never thought I’d make it this far.” Lucy Gray replied in quiet wonder. 

“Because of the Districts, the Hunger Games, or Snow?” Thoas asked, a bite to the end of his question.

Lucy Gray leaned forward and slapped his arm, “Oh, play nice,” She chastised, “He’s done everything to protect me.” 

Of course, I have!

Anger burned that Thoas would ever think that harm would come to her because of him! The idea was absurd. 

Thoas made a disbelieving hum in the back of his throat.

“I suppose just the Districts. People don’t live long in Tweleve. Reach thirty and you’re more than halfway dead already,” She leaned on her elbow, resting her chin in her palm, “I think I’ve tipped the scales in my favor. I hope to live ‘till 100.” 

“I suppose,” Thoas shrugged. It wasn’t unusual for Capitol folk to get the best of everything and live past 100. To him, reaching for what was considered a little old, but not ancient, must be strange. It made the difference between them - between the ilk of Coriolanus and Thoas (though he loathed being grouped together ) and Lucy Gray so stark.

“Can I ask you something, Luce?” Thoas said. Coriolanus scowled. He didn’t like the way that someone else had a nickname for her, especially something so easy. Need a nickname for Lucy? ‘Luce’ it is! God; be original, you know? 

“Yeah, shoot,” Lucy Gray said, tilting her head back and sipping her wine. As soon as the glass emptied, Thoas lurched forward to fill it again. 

“Why are you with him?” 

Lucy Gray slowly opened her eyes, setting her glass down on the table. Coriolanus thought, at first, she was as angry with the inquiry as he was and was going to slap Thoas silly and insist she must leave at once. Instead, she set it down and curled her legs underneath her and did not answer.

“I mean, I get why originally you did this whole…” Thoas waved his hands around, “Charade. I would too. But it worked; you’re safe here now. He’s the President, so…” He swallowed, “I just…Lucy Gray, you have so much to offer anyone, but so much more to yourself. And divorce isn’t uncommon here…no one would judge you if you just said the stress of his job got to you and-,” 

“Stop.” 

“He doesn’t love you, Lucy Gray. Snows don’t know how to. He just wants to control you,” Thoas snarled.

“I don’t let Coriolanus make me do anything I don’t want to.”

“That’s what you think-,” 

“We have children, Thoas.” Lucy Gray’s tone was sharp, warning him, “I grew up without a mama or a daddy. And I don’t intend to deprive my children of such a gift.” 

“Okay, fuck, sure, but you’re more than just your children. You’re more than just a mother!” 

Of course, she is! What sort of idiot thinks this is all I see her as? 

“Are you worried he’d…hurt you?” Thoas choked out, “Do you need help? I can-,” 

Lucy Gray’s laugh started quietly, and then rolled into a loudness that echoed off the walls, “Help me? How Thoas, I’m just curious.” 

“Well, I’m sure there’s a place in Panem-,” 

“I have no interest. And I don’t need help,” Lucy Gray said quietly, but her voice was as strong as a 1,000-year oak tree, something high and tall and respected. Coriolanus watched, heart beating fast, as she took another sip of her wine. She pulled her thoughts and the swig through her teeth, carefully turning it around on her tongue, like she was juggling marbles between her teeth, “You just don’t understand, Thoas,” She chuckled. 

“I suppose I don’t.” Thoas’ expression was stony, angry. 

“You see me as some poor maiden, unable to do much for herself. Why wouldn’t you? I hid during the games, and relied on Coryo to get me out of my messes, huh? But why wouldn’t I?” She gave a tooth grin, “Why wouldn’t I let someone else assure my win?” 

Thoas was quiet now, watching her with a mild scowl, as though he hadn’t expected such an answer.

“Truth is, Thoas, we’re far more alike than you’d like to believe. You’re so quick to excuse me, but I would have killed to get out of there . And I have killed to save Coryo. I’d do it again.” 

Thoas ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head like he couldn’t quite believe it. 

“You were under duress…or…or…” 

“Or you’re missin’ the simple truth. Me and him…we’re much of the same,” Lucy Gray said cooly, in such a matter-of-fact tone it almost sounded like love, “I could have left long ago. I stay because I want to.” 

“You like being married to him? To a monster like that?” 

Lucy Gray gulped down her wine, “In fact I do.” She made no lies or untruths that he wasn’t something that would make his enemies scared in the night, nor made him to be a paragon of virtue. No; she knew far better. He was who he was and she had accepted him for this since the very beginning of their marriage. 

“I ought to be going now.” 

Thoas jumped up , grabbing her hand, “Oh, I’ve spoiled your birthday, Lucy Gray. I’m sorry, please stay. I just care for you as a friend. If Coriolanus Snow gets everything he wants, shouldn’t you too?” 

Lucy Gray gave him a pitying smile, “I already do. And, let me tell you a secret.” 

Then, she leaned in, and with no amount of straining his ears would ever be able to hear what she told him, but it was something that had him step back in surprise, staring at Lucy Gray as he’d never truly seen her before.

“Well, it’s about time to drag my husband home,” Lucy Gray said as a final goodbye, “I’d expect he’s still dead asleep. Your spirits really do take the soul out of folk.”

By the time she had pushed the bedroom door fully open, Coriolanus had rolled back to his original position, as though he’d never woken up at all. 

XXX

Coriolanus called Thoas into his office four days later.

He wanted Thoas to sleep off his hangover, and be sure of mind and body for this meeting.

Thoas strode in without any fear, the way he flung around his words in the same careless way. He thought that after escaping the Capitol he was safe here.

What a foolish assumption. 

“What can I do for you, Mr. President?” Thoas asked, forcing a bright smile. Coriolanus gave a wry smile.

“Join me for a drink,” He said. 

“If I had known it was a social call, I would have brought something over,” Thoas bemoaned. 

“Oh, I have my own,” Coriolanus assured, going over to a cabinet and unlocking it, pulling out two bottles, nearly identical in color. Thoas craned his head around Coriolanus, leaning back in the chair so far Coriolanus was sure he’d topple over. 

“What’s your poison?” Thoas asked.

Coriolanus held back a snort at the ill-chosen slang.

“Whisky, but you know that.” 

“Naturally, Snow .” 

Coriolanus didn’t even mind Thoas calling him such things. It was a reminder of who he was, as sometimes, things almost got muddled here. It was easy to become Oleander Rose. Sometimes, the temptation was as sweet as honey. He could just sink into this pleasant person, live out his days with Lucy Gray, honor District 13 as a true civil servant…

…Well, Coriolanus knew that even if he tried, that would never work. There was always going to be that shadow, whispering in his ear. But he could imagine it, just for fun.

It was easier to lean in , so to speak .

“Well, that depends on you,” Coriolanus said evenly, coming and placing the bottles on the table in front of them. He saw Thoas examine both of them, scowling to see they both read as ‘whiskey’. 

“What, is one with a hint of rose extract?” He asked. 

“Ah, well,” Coriolanus sat back in his chair, “One has an extra flower of something.” 

“Well, don’t leave me in suspense, Snow. Which will it be?” 

“As I said, that depends on you,” Coriolanus said, uncorking the one on his left, and then the right, “Let’s start here: I’d appreciate it if you would stop trying to convince my wife to leave me.” 

Coriolanus’s fingers hovered on the rims, watching as Thoas’ eyes burst wide, his chest heaved like someone had strangled him mid breathe, and he scrambled up.

“I thought you were drunk!” 

“Was that your intention?” Coriolanus asked evenly, keeping a placid smile on his face, “Get me shitfaced to try to sidle up to my wife?” 

“It’s not…It’s not like that,” Thoas was halfway across the office now, “I don’t…not like that with her! I care for her, just as a friend.” 

“Hmm. It’s so hard to tell with the way you were liquoring her up. Was that your tactic back in the Capitol?” 

“I never forced anyone into anything they didn’t want to. I’m a good person,” Thoas hissed reproachfully. 

“Blush, we’re still talking,” Coriolanus said firmly as Thoas scrambled for the door, “Come sit. It would be a pity to let this go to waste.” 

Thoas’ eyes snapped to the bottles, “God; one is poisoned, isn’t it?” 

“I guess you won’t know unless you try it,” Coriolanus replied with a chuckle. 

Thoas was shaking now, “You’re…you’re insane! I’m going to try to tell everyone that you tried to poison me-,” 

“Are you?” Coriolanus asked, “After we’ve given you refuge because you ran your mouth? After we’ve welcomed you in as one of our own? After everyone hears how you tried to seduce my wife at her birthday party?” 

“You’re not Thirteen, Snow,” Thoas bit out , “You’re like me.” 

“Oh, but that is your mistake,” Coriolanus shook his head, “Everything that Thirteen is now is because of me. Thirteen is me. Without it, they’d still be cowering from sunlight, working as drones to a President who doesn’t care about them.” 

“Like you do?”

“I do, of course. Can’t you see all I’ve done for them, all I will do?” Coriolanus shook his head, “And I need Lucy Gray with me to do it. It’s not just me or her, it’s both of us. You try to steal her away, and all of this crumbles. So…” He waved a hand toward the bottles, “Apologize. And promise it won’t happen again.” 

“And you’ll just let me go?” Thoas asked suspiciously. He had every right to be. The old Coriolanus would have him dead before he had even gotten an argument in. But that was the unrefined Coriolanus of his youth, not the man he was today.

“Lucy Gray likes you,” Coriolanus said distastefully, and that was explanation enough. Or, what Coriolanus was willing to give him. 

He saw Thoas deliberate. 

“Fine, go yell your ‘truth’ to anyone who passes. See how much goodwill that gets you. See who believes you,” Coriolanus challenged, “And see if you’re willing to be kicked back to the Capitol where - I promise you - they are much less lenient than I am offering to be.” 

Thoas sat on his chair, sinking down , shoulders hunched, “I just wanted to make sure she was okay,” He mumbled, “She set me straight, so, well…” He swallowed, “You win.” 

“Wonderful,” Coriolanus replied, making a large deal about going specifically for the right bottle and pouring out two drinks. Thoas didn’t move a muscle until Coriolanus took a sip first.

After that, he relaxed.

“Tell me,” Coriolanus said, “What did she whisper in your ear?” 

Thoas was still unsettled, stiffened, though not as rod-straight as he’d been before, “She told me that you don’t control her…she controls you.” 

Coriolanus snorted into his glass. 

“Exactly,” Thoas misread his amusement, “Exactly what a Stockholm Syndrome patient would say, but, well…” He glared daggers over his drink, “Look, I know when I’ve been had. I won’t do something stupid again.” 

What Coriolanus didn’t tell him is that Lucy Gray had been exactly right. 

That, naturally, was always meant to be a secret between the two of them, though. It did frustrate Coriolanus that she would so openly say that, though Thoas would never believe it, so small miracles.

When he left, Coriolanus opened his side office. Alma came out, carefully observing everything in front of her.

“Was one of them really poisoned?” She asked, pointing at the glasses.

“Of course not. Lucy Gray would have my head if I did that,” Coriolanus responded with a shudder, “This one is unflavored. This one was steeped in lavender; I didn’t lie once. Last I checked, lavender is a flower.” 

Alma scowled, “I think one of them should have been deadly,” She muttered. 

“No one will ever choose the poison one,” Coriolanus shrugged, “And you need plausible deniability if anyone ever gets a bit too…bold.” 

Alma sat on the same chair Thoas had sat in, “Can I have a drink?” She asked.

Coriolanus snorted, putting the bottles away, “Absolutely not, kid.” 

She scowled, gnawing, “Why was he calling you ‘Snow’? And her Lucy Gray?” 

Coriolanus shrugged, “Just a whisper of who we were before.” 

That was the truth and all she needed to know.

One day, she may hear about a Capitol boy who gave up everything for the girl he loved and a girl who came from 12- from nothing - and won a game she’d never have to experience. And she may hear the whispers that that boy had killed that girl, and neither had ever been seen by Panem again. And maybe she’d change her opinion then.

Or maybe she’d never care because those things didn’t really matter. 

He watched Alma think about it before shrugging, “Alright.” 

Coriolanus knew she wouldn’t say anything to her father. She was too hungry, starved to be somebody . 

Former names and former lives held little interest to her. She cared about what they would be in the future. 

XXX

A few days later, Lucy Gray thundered into his office. The door slammed underneath her palm, hitting the wall with enough force to knock over a few books from their places.

“Darling, what do I owe the pleasure-,” 

“I am going to murder you, Coryo!” 

“Ooohh…” Ant giggled, “Mama’s mad!” She chortled into her hand. Nu looked between his parents, his lip pushing down, his eyes filling with tears.

“Don’t fight!” He whimpered. 

“Alma,” Lucy Gray said, reigning herself in, “Take the children back to the suite, please.” 

“Of course, Mrs. Rose,” Alma said, shooing the children out the door. Ant squirmed behind her arms, trying to see what was going to happen, but Lucy Gray firmly shut the door behind them.

“Oh, Lucy Gray,” Coriolanus purred as the door clicked, giving a wide grin. 

“You…” Lucy Gray stalked over to him, pointing firmly with a finger, “You…I can’t believe you! How dare you?” 

Coriolanus organized some paper, licking his thumb to separate them as he placed them into little piles, “You’re going to have to be more specific. I imagine I do a lot to kickstart your ire.” 

“You threatened to poison Thoas!” 

Coriolanus paused, looking up, scowling in deep displeasure, “He told you?” 

Lucy Gray grasped her roots, laughing out loud and spinning around, “Oh my god, I can’t believe you, Coriolanus. I should have known. I should have fucking known-,” 

“He’s so dramatic,” Coriolanus gave a heavy sigh , “I didn’t actually threaten him. Of course.” 

Lucy Gray turned, “Oh, so he just made it up? Had a dream in which you…you…told him off for things that you weren’t meant to hear?” 

“Well, he didn’t make it up, he just assumed the worst of me,” Coriolanus said evenly. 

“Tell me you don’t have a bottle of poisoned whisky in here, Coriolanus, fucking tell me!” 

“I don’t.” 

Lucy Gray’s nose flared, “I don’t believe you.” 

Coriolanus tried to swallow back something like disappointment. He bit down the inside of his cheek. Why did he need Lucy Gray to know he wasn’t lying? Why did he care that her disbelief was like a thorn in his side?

Really, after all this time of being… good . Or, at least, the most good that Coriolanus could muster without having a heart attack. 

“Be realistic. If I went around killing anyone who disagreed with me, well, I wouldn’t be president for very long, would I? That’s poor politicking.” Coriolanus pointed out, leaning back in his chair. 

“Not if you killed everyone in opposition,” Lucy Gray hissed, going over to his bottles and pushing them around, looking at all of them with the utmost suspicion. 

“Well, I’m not.” 

“I knew those flowers were a bad idea…I knew you wouldn’t just be satisfied with the action, hundreds of miles away…no…you had to take it into your own hands after I warned you…” She hissed, grasping all the whisky in her hands.

“What are you doing?” 

“Dumpin’ them down the drain!” She snarled. 

“Lucy Gray,” Coriolanus said firmly, grabbing her elbow. Not enough to pinch, just to keep her there. She stared up at him, face so angry that it was almost funny. He took the first bottle from her and uncorked it, taking a long swig.

“What are you doing?” She asked, on edge, sure this had to be a trap.

“Proving to you that they’re not poisoned,” He replied, “But this one does have just a bit of a licorice aftertaste; it’s really delicious.” 

Lucy Gray was absolutely silent as he took a shot of each of the bottles, five in all. When he was done, his head was a bit swimmy, but Lucy Gray wasn’t looking at him like he was a villain anymore.

“Well, excuse me for thinkin’ otherwise,” She finally muttered in defeat, looking at the bottles on his desk. 

“Power of suggestion is powerful,” Coriolanus shrugged, “Besides, did you expect me not to protect what’s mine?” 

“If you heard that, you know I was doin’ just fine myself,” Lucy Gray argued, “I don’t need you to come in, savin’ me.” 

“No, not anymore,” Coriolanus agreed with a nod, “But why wouldn’t I?” He delved a hand beneath her curls, fingers carding in her hair, “You are mine, we both know it.” 

“Just as much as you’re mine,” Lucy Gray said, a challenge, expecting him to balk. Instead, he chuckled. 

“That was the agreement, wasn’t it?” 

Lucy Gray stepped forward, pressing up against him, locking his lips in a warm kiss. 

Coriolanus pushed her back, against the edge of his desk. He kept his kisses almost kind, until Lucy Gray bit at his lip.

Instinctively, he tightened his grip on her hair.

Lucy Gray moaned into his mouth. 

“Was this your goal? Making me drunk?” Coriolanus asked, warm and floaty, right between being in and out of control. But he was teasing; this was just foreplay. It didn’t have the bite of a real argument, just softness, the sort that tickled along the edges of their lips as they kissed. 

“Oh, seriously,” Lucy Gray started to complain, but her words ended in a whine , “You drank that of your own accord. Besides, I don’t need you drunk to get you eager to undress me.” 

All his carefulness dissolved as he placed one hand on the desk behind her, almost bending her backward onto it, keeping her lips firmly on his with a guiding tug on her roots. 

“You’re right, I shouldn’t have done what I did,” Coriolanus mumbled into her mouth. He caught a surprised look from Lucy Gray, but silenced it with a possessive grin, “I should have fucked you in front of him. That would give him the message loud and clear. You wouldn’t be able to resist making those sounds and well…it’s hardly under duress.” 

“That’s not fair, Coriolanus,” Lucy Gray whispered, “And I’d never let that happen.” 

“You wouldn’t?” Coriolanus asked, his hands digging between her thighs, “You seem like you’d let me do just about anything if I…” He pulled her underwear aside, pushing two fingers inside of her. 

“I have some self-control,” Lucy Gray weakly tried to protest, fingers gripping the edge of his desk, her knuckles turning white as she tried not to let her legs buckle. 

“The idea is tempting…” Coriolanus trailed off, entirely ignoring her attempts to claim that she’d push him off, “Right on that ugly sofa he just had to cart all the way from Panem… I think I’d get you wet by fucking you with the neck of one of his wine bottles…lick what’s left from inside of you…” 

Lucy Gray inhaled sharply.

“Does that thought turn you on, wife?” 

“No-,” She tried to bite out, but she was so slick on his fingers.

“We said we’d never lie to each other,” Coriolanus whispered in her ear, a triumphant laugh rumbling in his throat as he watched her push onto his fingers. 

When she locked her jaw, he started to back away, but Lucy Gray grasped his shoulder, keeping him in place. 

“Fine; you know I love it when you talk dirty,” She groaned. 

Coriolanus pushed her up onto his desk, all his carefully organized paperwork fluttering to the ground. He pulled Lucy Gray’s legs as wide apart as they could go, her socked feet on the rim of the desk so she was laid open for him. 

Coriolanus pushed his trousers down enough to free himself, yanking her underwear with enough force to tear it and pressing inside of her. 

“Did you lock the door?” Lucy Gray gasped as he grasped her legs, leveraging himself.

“Did you?” He asked with a wicked grin, “You were the last one in.” 

“Coriolanus-,” Lucy Gray started to push against him, but he held her down. 

“It’s invigorating…and I bet I wouldn’t be the first President to be caught like this,” He teased, “And my cabinet would know to look away,” He said, watching as her cheeks flushed and she bit the inside of her cheeks, trying not to make too much sound. 

“But-,” 

“You’re mine, always, and I don’t mind a few others seeing the show if it spreads the word loud and clear.” 

“It’s unnecessary. I wouldn’t be interested in anyone else anyway.” Lucy Gray argued. 

“I know,” Coriolanus said, and of that, he was absolutely sure. 

“Then why threaten Thoas?” 

“Because it’s fun.” 

Lucy Gray was seconds away from chastising, but Coriolanus sped up, licking his thumb and finding her covered hood. The only thing he wanted to hear on her lips was his name ripped from her voice in sheer pleasure. 

She finished with a cry, and Coriolanus seconds later. 

Then, glaring, she hopped off the desk, pulled up her underwear, and went to the door.

“Coriolanus, it’s locked.” 

He grinned; he’d seen Alma turn the lock on her way out. Not that she imagined this would happen, but that she foresaw a fight. Such a good little protegee. Always thinking two steps ahead. Not quite as far ahead as Coriolanus, but she’d get there. 

“Oh, is it?” He asked, trying to seem innocent. 

“You-,” Lucy Gray threw a finger at him, unable to find words to yell at him, “You’re lucky, Snow.”

“It’s not luck,” Coriolanus said, reaching around her to unlock it, “I’m just Coriolanus Snow.” 

XXX

“It’s a Quarter Quell.” 

“A what?” Coriolanus had hardly stepped into the clearing to find Arius, nearly in hysterics, shaking with so much anger that Coriolanus thought at first he was having a fit. 

“25 years of the games. A quarter century. It’s impossible!” 

Coriolanus raised an eyebrow, not much thinking that it was so hard to believe. The remainder was still fresh. People were still meek. Until almost all of those who had been pushed under the thumb of the first victors were dead, there would be those who would argue it was better to just let this happen. 

Not that any of it was right, granted. 

“What’s a Quarter Quell?” Coriolanus asked, genuinely curious. He wondered how they were fairing without him and his expertise. 

“A new kind of hell,” Arius kicked a tree like a petulant child, as though he was somehow still surprised by the Capitol, “Just when everyone thinks they know how this all works, they’ve thrown a wrench in it. Claimed it was ‘meant to be like this since the beginning’. Bullshit!” 

“Arius. What’s a Quarter Quell?” Coriolanus repeated, growing quite tired of having to re-ask more than once. 

“A Quarter Quell happens every 25 years. Some swill they’re peddling that it was pre-determined at the first game. Big envelope. Meant to shake up the rules of the game. This year, this first year, instead of picking a name out, the districts are voting on who they want to go in. They’re choosing which children they think ought to die!” 

“Really?” Coriolanus raised an eyebrow, tilting his head. 

“They said it’s ‘a way of reminding the rebels that they were responsible for the Hunger Games, and it was their fault that their children died in the Games every year.’ Have you ever heard of something so despicable?” 

Coriolanus locked his jaw. He wondered which bright star under Gaul had come up with this. It was ingenious , really . Something he probably would have proposed. And he wasn’t surprised others made the leap to think it up; he just would have done it better and faster.

Idly, he wondered what other Quarter Quell ideas they’d dreamt up. He could think of a few nasty ones that would make Gaul grin in her creepy, imposing sort of way that still made you feel like you’d done something very right and simultaneously very wrong. 

No food in the arena, only weapons…to win, tributes had to kill their district partner to prove true loyalty to the capitol…a game entirely in the dark…former victors reaped…well, the ideas were endless!

And someone else was out there, getting all the glory for (likely) half-assed, pathetic ideas instead. 

“What is the response to it?” Coriolanus asked, leaning against a tree. 

“I mean, the Districts are in disarray. How do you choose someone to die? It’s easy when the Capitol does it but for you? Well, who do you send? Someone sick you think will go fast or the strongest who you think may have a chance. But, in the lower districts, sending the strongest is sending away a strong worker, someone who can be put to use…” Arius put his head in his hands, “They’re voting in a week’s time . Enough time to unsettle people fully. Give kids time to beg and plead and make their case. God.” 

Coriolanus sucked air through his teeth. It was ingenious. A sense of bitterness crawled its way up his throat.

“I think…” Coriolanus said quietly, evenly, “It’s time for Gaul to die.” 

Arius snapped his head up. 

“The damage is done, Coriolanus. She’s already put it into motion.” 

“Well, we wouldn’t want her thinking of an anniversary horror every five years down the line . If this is a success…I doubt she’d stop,” Coriolanus said carefully, “She’s always looked for ways to make it more of a spectacle. Who is to say she wouldn’t switch it up every year?” 

Arius groaned, “God-damit, you’re right. I don’t know…who…” He gnawed on his lip, “Who will do it? It’s almost like asking someone to kill the President.” 

“Let me,” Coriolanus said, the words out of his lips before he could stop it. 

Arius crossed his arms, crinkling his eyebrows, “And step in, take her place?” He asked nastily. Coriolanus couldn’t fault him for thinking so. 

“Of course not. I have things tethering me here.” Coriolanus scoffed, although the idea had crossed his mind. Just for a second, of course, swept away by the thoughts of his wife and children, “I’ll only be in the capitol for…12 hours, tops.” 

Arius scratched his neck, “I dunno, Coriolanus…if it goes wrong…aren’t you of more use here?” 

“It won’t,” Coriolanus said, entirely confident. 

“But-,” 

“I’m much more cunning than you give me credit for,” Coriolanus snapped, frustrated, “And clever. And I know the stakes.” 

Arius pursed his lips, “I know I don’t have to tell you to make it look like an accident, right? Or suicide?” 

“No,” Coriolanus said hotly, “Of course you don’t.” Nothing would raise red flags more than Gaul being stabbed on the streets, which would basically start a man-hunt to find the culprit. 

“I don’t like it-,” Arius began.

“More than you dislike the Hunger Games?” 

Arius clammed up, “You know what? Fine. I’ll be back in a week to pick you up. Don’t fuck this up, Coriolanus.” 

“You’d love for me to fail,” Coriolanus said with a derisive snort.

“ Actually, although I don’t like you, I wouldn’t,” Arius ground his teeth, “You’re doing good things. Perhaps for bad reasons, but good things. And well…” He should out his shoulders, “One day, I have the hope that you’ll be so accustomed to it, that you’ll do good things for the sake of good.” 

Coriolanus swallowed back a laugh. 

Did Arius know? People never changed.

But let him think so…it would make it so much more satisfying when he was proved wrong. 

XXX

Coriolanus sat in the back of the jet, head cocked as he stared at the guard sitting across from him. It was a stony man with a tightened expression, someone who was not up for any small talk and scrutinized Coriolanus with a distrustful narrowed glare.

Well, he ought to feel such things.

Not that Coriolanus was going to throw him out of the jet and commandeer this plane for himself, but no one should ever trust him, not fully.

As expected, Lucy Gray had been less than pleased when she found out what his plans were, as he shoved a change of clothes - all black - into a bag late that night. No, ‘less than pleased’ was an understatement. She had been spitting furious. 

“What if something happens?” She had hissed. 

“Nothing will. I’ll come back.” 

He had thought that her anger had been at the fear that he may never return. The old Coriolanus would have jumped at any chance to return to his old life. And maybe a Coriolanus that had never left District 12 would have. But Coriolanus had built this life, plan by plan, and he wasn’t gunning to abandon it. He’d put far too much time into it. 

“What if someone finds you? If they realize who you are…” Lucy Gray’s eyes were stormy, “They won’t ever let you free.” 

“No one will.” 

“Why does it have to be you?” She had asked, suddenly sounding sad, her shoulders dropping.

“It just…it has to.” 

Coriolanus didn’t know how to explain it. Lucy Gray had never had such a tumultuous connection with a mentor. Coriolanus was the closest thing, he supposed with a half-laugh, and they’d ended up married. It felt like an itch, some unfinished business, a thread slowly unwinding itself from the fabric of his perfectly stitched life. Gaul was the one who could pull, pull, pull, and unearth it all. 

“You won’t lose me,” Coriolanus insisted, coming close, trying to place a kiss on her forehead, but she shied away. 

“It’s not just me, or the kids. It’s District 13,” She snapped her gaze up, fury drawing her lips downward, “You’ve done such a good job of installing yourself as the be-all-end-all that if you don’t return, Thirteen will topple with you. You’ve made it so that no one else can do this job.” 

“You could,” Coriolanus whispered, though he didn’t like to entertain the thought he wouldn’t come back. 

“I don’t want to.” 

“Not without me?” Coriolanus asked, searching, probing, for that sense of fondness, a romantic dramaticism. 

“I was never meant for it, darlin’,” Lucy Gray said with a low chuckle, “But you put me here. Don’t be a dick and shackle me to this life.” 

He felt disappointment curl in his stomach, “Noted.” 

Somehow, he wished she’d screamed . Screamed loud enough to wake the kids. But instead, she’d just laid him down to his bare bones with a quiet, disappointed shake of her head. 

He shook away those memories. He needed to be absolutely laser-focused for this task. 

“We’re approaching the border,” The guard said. Coriolanus leaned around, peeking out the thin slit in the back of the cargo hold to see the shimmering, welcoming lights of the capitol. It felt so familiar that he felt tears clog in his throat.

Fuck; Lucy Gray had made him so emotionally frayed of late. 

“What are we meant to be?” Coriolanus asked with a hum of amusement. They were smuggling themselves in on a provisions jet. Slip just enough money into the hands of those meant to check the backs, and they’d be free.

The first hint of humanness flashed on the guard’s face as he let out a wide grin, his white teeth glimmering in the dim lighting, “Pigs.” 

“Well, Arius does have a sense of humor, doesn’t he?” Coriolanus muttered. 

Coriolanus sat, back straightened and tensed, as he heard footsteps creak around the jet. There was a moment when he heard the handle engage, but some smooth-talking from a resistance member goad him into accepting an absurd sum of money and taking a walk.

The next thing Coriolanus knew, the guard was getting some signal and pulling out a crate. 

A pig pen. 

“Get inside, Mr. President,” The guard said, with a snide chuckle. 

Coriolanus stood, staring down at the hay and mud splashed on the sides, clearly having transported hundreds of pigs to the slaughter long before him.

“You couldn’t spring to clean it?” He asked, loosening his sleeves and rolling them to his elbows, as though that would make a difference. 

“Didn’t want to raise any flags that it may not be carrying the intended cargo,” The guard said, but Coriolanus knew it was just to bother him, “Rebellion isn’t glamorous, Snow.” 

“I know,” Coriolanus snapped as he deposited himself into it. 

God the smell was vile. It made him want to barf. 

He pressed the underside of his palm to his nose, trying not to inhale. 

“Good luck, sir,” The guard said, slipping into quietness, “May the odds ever be in your favor,” He cruelly mimicked. 

“I don’t need favor,” Snow muttered as the door closed on him , “I’m me.” 

As he was wheeled across the capitol, he had the thought that this could be some large setup. That Arius had paid in blood for a better Panem, with Coriolanus’s head as the price.

But no; Arius was too moral. That was his entire downfall. He wouldn’t leave Lucy Gray and Coriolanus’ children to die, because he knew that their deaths would come soon after Coriolanus’ if it were true. 

Coriolanus, if the position were switched, would have no such hesitations.

But he ought to be grateful that Arius thought himself a good person. 

They were going in the early morning. Coriolanus knew that most of Gual’s staff worked late hours, so going in the darkest times of night was no good. And Gaul was probably living at her lab, dreaming up the most terrifying new inventions to traumatize the Hunger Games contestants with . 

Their best shot was just around 4 am when most of the lab staff was sent home to get a good three-hour sleep before they were called back for another awful day.

Coriolanus was just one cart in a long line of food being brought in for the Game Makers and current mentors, something he had heard from Arius was still in fashion. However, someone had the devilish idea that the former victors should be training their district tributes; who better to train than someone who has been through it before? 

Coriolanus mused on the idea of Lucy Gray being forced from Tweleve every year with a fresh batch of kids that she knew were going to die. She’d have to watch them time, and time, and time again fall on a sword or be stabbed through or neck sliced.

What an awful existence and a truly villainous yet commendable idea to whoever dug that one out. What better way to ensure Victor compliance than to remind them of their worst days every single year unrelenting ? 

Coriolanus couldn’t see anything from his cart. All he had to do was wait and hope.

He wasn’t sure how he would kill Gaul yet. It was better to improvise with what was around him, so as not to leave any traces. Nothing so idiotic as bringing a knife and forgetting it, no siree. 

After a bit, the cart stopped. Coriolanus waited long after footsteps had left once again to carefully push open the door of his cart . Fresh air washed in, a necessary relief. 

He was in a food storage area. 

He crawled out, like a demon dragging itself from hell, and made sure his Peacekeeper mask was tightly secured. While it was going to be strange for a Peacekeeper to be here, it wasn’t totally unusual and would give him far better cover than his actual face. 

Finding Gaul’s office was easy. The structure of the labs was coming back to him like it was just yesterday. As expected, it was basically abandoned by people, but certainly was alive in all the things that creaked and moaned and sloped around. The most terrifying menagerie that even Coriolanus’s worst nightmares could not summon. 

Gaul was scribbling away at her desk, muttering to herself. Her hair, grayer than before, still stuck out in all directions. Half-eaten food was molding in plates on her desk, and a thin blanket was thrown haphazardly beneath her feet. 

As usual, there were no cameras in the lab.

Gaul’s insistence that others would come for her ideas, pass them off as their own, and steal her glory away from her would be her downfall. 

There would be no records to check to see who killed her or if her death was anything but an accident at all. 

Coriolanus took two careful steps inside, his feet as quiet as the snow.

Or, so he thought. 

“Who is that?” Gaul asked, creaking around in her chair. Time had not been kind to her. She looked inches away from death right now. Coriolanus couldn’t be sure she’d last to the next games, but Arius had been sure. Perhaps she learned how to cheat death, and part of him almost wished he could have stayed in her back pocket, to reap the benefits of this . What he wouldn’t give to life forever.

“You must be lost,” Gaul said, catching Coriolanus, her voice like a snaking hissing, weaving through grass, “I have no need for you here.” 

Coriolanus didn’t move an inch. His eyes darted around, trying to figure out how to kill her. 

Ah; in the corner, that dark pool of thrashing tentacles. He’d never figured out what it was, but he doubted they were vegetarian. And if they didn’t eat meat, he didn’t think that water would take long to drown her anyway. 

He took out his weapon, motioning to the edge of the pool. Almost amused, Gaul followed, grinning widely. Coriolanus came to stand by her.

She was a little old lady. He’d put some water by the edge, make all her staff assume she must have slipped whilst carrying something. Fallen in. It was too late to save her. 

His fingers twitched.

He should just push her, and be done with it all. Call for extraction, leave now. 

Be back to Lucy Gray by mid-morning. 

In his hesitation, Gaul grinned, “Coriolanus Snow. Are you my Grimm Reaper, coming to collect my soul?” She asked with a rickety laugh. 

Coriolanus bit down, annoyed she’d said his name out loud, in case anyone passing by had heard.

But no, everyone thought him dead, right? They would think she was seeing visions, her brain addled in her advanced age. 

Coriolanus chuckled, lifting his helmet off , holding it underneath the crook of his arm , “How did you know?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Gaul drank in his face, her grin widening, “I have been expecting you for some time, young man. You’re late.” 

“Am I?” Coriolanus asked, pleased that she would know who had come to kill her. The idea of being a faceless assassin had settled wrong in his stomach, “You know I’m not back, right?” 

“No…no of course not…” Gaul tutted, “No…you’re off…somewhere else.” In her pause, Coriolanus was absolutely sure she knew about Thirteen, or had riddled it out herself, “Far too determined to let death take you so young.” 

She looked out across the pool, “But you’re not here to be upset with me, are you? Angry that what was yours was taken from you, because of those snakes? Because of my hubris?” 

“No,” Coriolanus agreed quickly, “I am here to thank you.” 

Gaul closed her eyes, as though his answer was exactly what she’d been waiting for, “Ah…” 

Without her, without these games, without her pressing for entertainment, Coriolanus wouldn’t have given two shits about a grimy tribute with no chance of winning. He would have watched Lucy Gray die quickly and hardly spared a second thought. He probably still would have risen through the ranks, but Gaul had gifted him his wife. 

There was no greater prize that anyone could ever have bestowed upon him. 

“And…” Gaul continued, “To kill me.” 

Coriolanus pressed his lips together, “You don’t seem upset. Haven’t reached for security yet, or some terrible powder in your pocket that will make me bleed out in seconds.” 

“Well, as I said young man, you’re late ,” Gaul replied, almost frustrated, “I expected you some time ago…no, had to make a big enough draw, something to coax you from your hiding spot. Rile up those rebellious fools you run with.” 

Something dawned on Coriolanus, “...The Quell?” 

Fuck, if Arius knew…he’d be furious. He may actually kill Coriolanus. 

“Why?” Coriolanus demanded. 

“Call it my old, shriveled emotions going soft in my old age,” Gaul said, which Coriolanus did not believe, “Perhaps that is the way people like us show our gratitude. By cutting off the weak links and taking the space they left. Had you been my mentee, you would have killed me too eventually, just as I killed mine.” She met his gaze, her discolored eye cloudy and dull, “I recognize someone who is of my ilk. And no others have yet compared.” 

Gaul gave a long laugh , “And one day, yours will kill you.” 

Coriolanus locked his jaw. Coin? Never. 

She may be very similar to Coriolanus but at the end of the day…Alma wouldn’t have it in her.

“You can’t accept it, but take it from someone who has been on both sides…” Gaul tapped her temple, “When it comes, you’ll welcome it.” 

“Impossible,” Coriolanus snarled, “And if you yearned for death so much, why not do it yourself?” He asked, feeling like a child again, getting poor marks on a test. 

“Because,” Gaul rolled her neck like a snake, “I would not get the delight of seeing you one last time, having this little chat…” She turned her toes on the edge of the pool, a wild crazed look in her eyes. Coriolanus realized what was happening seconds before it did, just a moment too late, “And snatching that satisfaction from you.” 

Coriolanus jumped to grasp her shirt, but she let herself fall backward into the pool. The tentacle creatures sprang to enclose her, and all at once, the lab was filled with the sound of gnashing teeth, hard slaps across the surface of the water, and a maniacal laugh echoing in the large, empty caverns. 

A spray of blood cracked like a whip through the air, painting Coriolanus’s horrified, indignant expression, one hand still outstretched for her. 

All at once, Coriolanus knew he had to leave.

He dumped a vial of goo on the ground and scattered a tray of items, just so, and then took one of Gaul’s shoes sitting underneath her desk and drug it through the goo, as though the air had been lifted from underneath her and she’d toppled over. 

Then, he turned on his heels and left. 

He was so furious he didn’t think to put his mask on, but as he did, as the thought crossed his mind and he started placing it over his head, his lungs filled with the stench of Gaul’s blood, thick and hanging and tainting his lungs. The stench was unbearable, something poisonous like she’d been sweating toxic gas. 

He found a bathroom right off the hallway and locked the door with unsteady fingers. The gilded gold of the mirror reflected a haze against his face as he raised his expression to the mirror. 

She hadn’t merely killed herself, she’d just punished him. 

A final tutting, like a furious parent, angry at him for running away like he was an overdramatic teenager. Angry with him for falling for Lucy Gray and giving up everything for her, when she had been offering him an empire.

And snatched that sense of gratification right from his fingers, as though he was a child who couldn’t manage the most simple of tasks.

Coriolanus grasped a hand towel and ran it under the hot water until it scalded his fingers and began wiping furious, peeling away her blood from his face. 

The lock clicked behind him. In his fury, he hadn’t engaged the latch quite right, and though the door was closed, it hadn’t been secured. He spun, fingers searching for a weapon of any kind as he turned. 

Out of the corner of his eye, as the door swung open, he saw two young children run by with dark, luxurious shining hair. It was a pair of girls, dressed in perfectly pressed Capitol clothing, not an inch of their look out of place. 

Just as Coriolanus was caught thinking that something about their cheeks and eyes looked so familiar, the door pushed open all the way to a woman, digging in her purse, half-pulling out a blotting paper. She started to apologize for not realizing it was occupied but the paper fell between her fingers, sashaying to the floor.

“Coriolanus…” Her voice gasped, catching at the end like someone was pulling his name from her throat, a long-forgotten memory, and she paled, “Are you real?” 

“Clemensia.” 

His eyes strayed to the two young girls behind her, to more than five, who were looking at his face with terror. 

Clemensia turned, leaning down, “Why don’t you go find Daddy?” She whispered quietly , “Go, run, now.” 

The girls took off, their shoes squeaking on the freshly waxed floor. 

Clemensia stepped inside the bathroom, far too small for two people, and fully closed the lock behind her. Coriolanus’s eyes focused hard on it, on the differing sound it made, kicking himself for not properly attending to it before.

She crossed her arms, examining him, “Why so formal, Coriyo?” She asked, tilting her chin up, “Are we not old friends?” 

The snake pattern on her face had subdued in time or was covered by makeup. But her eyes still shone yellow, almost threateningly. She was equally as beautiful as she’d been fifteen years ago if not more so, the last of her teenage roundness melting away to reveal sharp cheekbones. 

The nickname of their youth felt too soft, too gentle, too foreign for Coriolanus to use, but he coaked it out anyway, “Clemmie.” 

She smiled, “You have blood…there.” She pressed a manicured finger to his face, as though not quite believing it was him. 

“You don’t seem that surprised to see me still standing,” Coriolanus observed, “After the initial surprise.” 

“More that you were physically here ,” Clemmie agreed, “I was sure you were dead until I heard what befell Livia. Only you could be so…so…” She bit her lip. 

“Cruel?” Coriolanus guessed carefully, using the still-damp towel to continue cleansing his face. 

“Vengeful,” Clemmie corrected, a quiet laugh deep in her stomach. 

“How is dear Livia?” 

Clemmie almost laughed, “Quiet, these days.” 

“And you?” Coriolanus found himself curious, though he couldn’t place a finger on it. Perhaps because once upon a time, he’d briefly considered that they would make a good future pair, if he was interested in a life with someone he could stand. 

But he didn’t think he could love her. Not in the way he loved Lucy Gray. He would have held respect for her, and he imagined they would have tackled parenthood like they did their assignments. It would have been easy, but lacking in passion. 

“Those yours?” He added, referring to the children. Of course, they were. She wasn’t low enough to be a nanny, and those girls had been the spitting image. 

“Yes.” 

“And their father?” 

Clemmie shrugged, “Oh, no one you knew,” She replied, but that wasn’t true. The capital was hardly that big. And anyone worth marrying her,  Coriolanus would have at least met in passing. 

“Humor me.” 

“He was four years above us. Reece Goldsmith. He’s in real estate. His father-,” 

“I know who his father is,” Coriolanus said quietly. Recelio Goldsmith had been the one to deliver their eviction notice. He’d probably been the one to kick Grandma’am and Tigris out after he’d left. 

“It’s all business, Coriolanus,” Clemmie read his expression perfectly, “Not personal.” 

“Sure it’s not.” He gave a harsh laugh. 

“Well, he’s perfectly nice.” 

“And?” 

“Nice,” Clemmie shrugged, “Cares for us. He’s a good father. He’s here to discuss the boundaries of next year’s games, and where it should go. He makes all the money on that, you know? Can’t ever start too soon.” 

“So you got everything you wanted, then?” Coriolanus asked. Why wouldn’t she? Why would anyone have stopped their lives, the paths they’d always been on on his account? 

Clemmie stepped into his personal space, “Not everything.” 

She pushed him against the vanity, grasping his hair and pushing her lips onto his. Coriolanus was so shocked for a moment that all he could do was stay frozen.

Her lips felt all wrong. They were too hard, and the taste of her lipstick made him ill. He was used to the softness of Lucy Gray’s lips, with her lip balm made from lavender plants. 

“I always wanted to do that, just once,” She whispered. Then, she paused, looking up at him, begging for…something. 

Clarity seeped down into his brain on why she’d locked the door. They could; something quick and dirty and she would readjust herself in the mirror after and Reece and Lucy Gray would never know, a secret between the two of them, a piece of the Capitol in his blood and Coriolanus left in her. 

In his shock, she dove in for a second kiss.

But that was Clemmie’s fantasy and Coriolanus did not want that.

He caught her hands just as they were reaching for his belt. 

He shoved, hard enough that she slammed against the door and it rattled as she slid down, staring at Coriolanus with a shocked and hurt expression. 

“Don’t you-,” She began, surprise coloring her tone. 

“No,” He said, turning and wiping her kiss from his lips, “Now leave.” 

Clemmie gathered herself up, standing, but stood in front of him, “I’ll start yelling. And you’ll never make it back. Unless you-,” 

“Unless I what, Clemmie?” He whispered, “Didn’t think you had that sort of violence, that darkness in you.” 

“You put it there,” She whispered, “When the snakes got me,” She said, snatching her sleeves up and showing him rows and rows and rows of bites, after all this time, unhealed. Bruised, ugly, remaining. 

“You shouldn’t have lied,” Coriolanus said, shrugging. 

Clemmie sucked her cheeks inward, realizing he was serious. Her voice drew in one breath, a threat to yell, but Coriolanus was faster. 

There was nothing that would make him break his promise to Lucy Gray. 

Not just the promise to make it back, but an older promise. One that felt like ancient magic or fate, woven in the tall grasses, with only the ground beneath them as their witness. Blood of both of them, dripping into the soil, growing that steadfastness, their fate a noose around both of their windpipes, tightening each day, knotting them to each other. 

He pulled her up by her throat, fingers tightening around her neck, “I wouldn’t,” He whispered savagely. 

Clemmie was truly afraid now, her eyes flashing with fear as she choked out two gravely words, “My…kids…” 

“I don’t give a shit about them,” Coriolanus said honestly, “But just try to scream. Do it.” As he spoke, his palm tensed, cutting off her air incrementally, bit by bit.

The last person he’d killed in such a way had been that tribute. It was something quite spectacular, watching the light flicker out from their eyes, knowing it was your hand that was doing so, that you were the last fear they’d ever have. 

Clemmie tried to swallow, her lip quivering. It was turning blue . Such a pretty shade of blue, Coriolanus thought, the same color as Nu’s eyes. 

“You make any sound at all and I will show you how truly monstrous I am,” Coriolanus threatened, “Choking you would be a blessing, and I don’t deal in niceties.” 

Acceptance bloomed across her face, along with true defeat. 

Coriolanus tightened just a bit more, high on this feeling, teetering on the edge of just doing it, being done with it.

But he did not want to leave another dead body. If so, people might make an unsavory connection. 

He released his grip and Clemmie collapsed to the floor like a rag doll, grasping her neck. He could hear the gasps of breath drawing from her lips, a low-keening moan with each one. She was shaking, tears spilling down her cheeks. 

“Now, you never saw me here,” Coriolanus said quietly, crouching down, “If someone questions what happened to your throat, you’ll pick someone. Pick anyone. Tell your nice husband that he jumped you in the streets, and forced himself on you. He’ll be hung, but that’s the punishment for trying to get me killed. Someone’s blood on your hands. So, choose wisely.” He stood, peeling off his Peacekeeper gloves and stuffing them in his pocket, pleased that his fingerprints wouldn’t be anywhere on her. What providence. 

“And you’ll never tell a soul about this. Because if you do, if you so much as hint my name, you won’t last a day. And you won’t see it coming. I have eyes everywhere, Clemensia, even here. Don’t forget that.” He spat. 

She looked up, peering at Coriolanus through her eyelashes, broken and docile now. 

“Do you understand me?” He asked, drawing the words through his clenched teeth and a terrifying calm smile. 

“Yes,” She whispered, eyes flickering to the floor, the words cracking in two. She sniffled pathetically. 

“Get up. Clean yourself. Now, in a normal voice, call your husband and tell him you forgot something at home. Go find a scarf. Hide your neck or stick to the story , your choice. Don’t care what you do but keep my name out of it.” 

Coriolanus watched with a thrill of triumph as with shaking hands, Clemmie reached up for the intercom system, standard in every room here. He’d always thought that one in the bathroom was absurd, that whoever was in there couldn’t wait five minutes to share their ideas. It had been Clemmie, actually, who had pointed out it was useful if bathroom necessities were out to get someone to replace it right away.

With fumbling fingers, she pressed the operator button. A static voice filled the room. 

“Extension, please?” 

“Hi, uhm, please connect me with Reece Goldsmith. He’s in a meeting with Mr. Harrington.” She couldn’t meet Coriolanus’s eyes. He leaned back, arms crossed, waiting.

“One moment.” 

Jaunty hold music filled the void, and Clemmie focused hard on the grout between the tiles. When she swallowed, Coriolanus watched the way her Adam’s apple bobbed, the wince as she did so. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi, Ree, did the girls find you alright?” Clemmie asked, her voice only shaking slightly. 

“Where’d you get lost, Sia?” Reece asked, “They’re here.” 

“Oh, I just realized that I forgot something at home. I think I have to nip back there quickly.” 

“You realized from the bathroom?” 

Coriolanus stared her down. 

“Uhm…yes…I was looking in my bag for it and it’s very important-,” 

“The girls there was a man in the bathroom, covered in blood. Are you okay?” 

Coriolanus took a step forward, shaking his head slightly. No code words, no funny business.

Clemmie forced a laugh out, “Oh, they’re just so imaginative! They must have seen the caretaker repainting part of the walls. He just had paint on his face.” 

“Oh,” Reece didn’t sound completely convinced, “Well, I suppose if you’re fine-,” 

“Perfectly. I’ll be back in an instant.” Clemmie said. She ended the call with an audible click, “Happy?” She asked, turning to Coriolanus with a murderous expression. 

“Yes,” He said with a grin. 

“You know, everyone always whispered about you. But I thought you were different. I thought I was…” She trailed off, biting her tongue. 

“Different?” Coriolanus asked in a low, teasing tone. As her face reddened, he realized she must have thought exactly that, “And what would have ever made you think that?” He asked unkindly. 

“I guess that was my mistake,” Clemmie agreed. 

Just before she left, Coriolanus grasped the handle in front of her, boxing her in. She shuddered against his chest. 

“I have eyes everywhere…remember that,” He whispered, “And if that fact slips your mind, then maybe your girls will pay the price.” 

Clemmie looked back, mouth agape, horrified, “You wouldn’t.” 

If it kept his children safe, his children with a father…there was no line Coriolanus couldn’t imagine crossing. One for the other? It wasn’t even a choice. 

“I didn’t have qualms about the Hunger Games. Why would I draw the line someplace else?” He asked honestly, “Now, tell me what you’ll tell dear ‘Ree’.” 

“I…I was heading home and someone jumped me…I couldn’t shake them off…they choked me out. I…never saw their face.” 

“And?” 

“And…” Clemmie bit down hard, “And what? It was just a painter in the bathroom. I was surprised because I wasn’t expecting someone already occupying it. It was just red paint on his face.” 

Coriolanus clicked the door open behind her, doling out his next words sharply, “Good. Girl.” 

Clemensia gave a full-body shudder.

XXX

Arius couldn’t get Coriolanus out right away. He spent a day and a half pacing the jet, sure that Clemmie had done something absolutely idiotic and the entire city was looking for him.

If he died or was detained and then executed, at the very least, Lucy Gray could spit on his grave and say ‘I told you so’, and maybe that would be enough for her.

Finally, after thirty-six agonizing hours, Arius busted in.

“Well, was it a success?” 

He could feel the jets take off and relief sagged on his shoulders. Arius threw a paper his way.

‘ HISTORIC GAMEMAKER KILLED IN TRAGIC ACCIDENT ’. 

Coriolanus scanned the text; a few apologetic laments from her workers (all bogus), a very restrained comment from the new head game maker Pup (who was probably jumping with joy) and it seemed it all went exactly to plan; she was getting on, you know, and just lost her balance and toppled over. Only a few bones bobbed up the surface, just enough to be sure it was her.

And then, at the bottom, squished so far down Coriolanus nearly missed it - ‘ ON THE HUNT FOR MAN WANTED IN A VIOLENT ASSAULT ’, with Clemensia standing teary-eyed behind her husband.

They were looking for a man who was short, stout, dark-haired…everything Coriolanus was not.

Seemed Clemmie was still a bit intelligent. Coriolanus gave a wolfish grin.

“You seem pleased, Snow.” Arius was suspicious, but goddamn, Coriolanus couldn’t squash it. 

Coriolanus looked up at Arius, “Well, aren’t you? Got exactly what you wanted.” 

“Why do I feel like I just made a deal with the devil to get it, then?” 

“Oh, Heavensbee,” Coriolanus threw the paper on the ground lazily, “Of course you did.”

Chapter Text

Alma was waiting for him, having taken care of some smaller things while he was absent. She was with him so constantly that, even at fourteen, he trusted her much more than the rest of Thirteen’s civil servants. Of course, he wasn’t giving her the nuclear codes, granted, but he’d given her a test, just to see how she would take care of a few odds and ends. 

She seemed relieved to see him. 

“Anything of note?” He grouched. 

“The usual,” She said, sinking into one of his armchairs. He swallowed back a grin. He was glad to see her eagerness to take on the tasks he’d dolled out had dimmed. At fourteen, you felt like you were an adult, able to take on everything.

Reminding her of her place, as an accessory to his needs, felt appropriate.

Especially…

He thought of Gaul and scowled, swallowing back anger and regret and entitlement. 

She was his to kill. 

She’d snatched that from him. 

He ought to have known better; all of it was a trap. She’d never just walk into death by his hand quietly. Gaul didn’t know how not to scream over a quiet space. 

“Did you do it?” Alma asked quietly. She had gleaned enough to put the pieces together of his past. It wasn’t directly discussed, but Alma was smart. Coriolanus knew that she knew enough to be dangerous if he hadn’t done such a good job of tying her to his success. 

“Yes.” 

That was all he said. He didn’t want to speak of how Gaul had killed herself instead. Let her believe he was that dangerous. 

“What else happened?” She was able to read his expression. 

“I ran into an old classmate of mine,” Coriolanus said carefully, “Someone who was once…a friend.” 

“A…friend?” Alma’s words held a question in itself. 

“Well, in another life, she would have wished differently,” Coriolanus said with a shrug. 

“Were you happy to see her?” 

Coriolanus sat back, contemplating. Finally, he shook his head, “That entire world is behind me,” He said honestly, “There’s nothing for me there right now.” 

“Was she happy to see you?” 

Alma let the words linger in the air. Coriolanus didn’t answer. Finally, Alma swallowed, drawing back her question.

“Sir, you look tired,” She said cautiously. 

“Are you trying to babysit me?” Coriolanus asked with something of a laugh. She shrugged but was blushing bright red. 

“Thirteen is still running, President Rose,” She said, “I think you, out of anyone, deserve a good long sleep.” 

Coriolanus raised his bones from his chair. 

“Scram, Alma,” He said, though it was semi-good-naturedly, “And take the day off tomorrow.” 

XXX

When Coriolanus returned home, he slipped as quietly as a shadow into his bathroom and scrubbed his skin until there wasn’t even the ghost of Clemensia anywhere on him. He stayed until the water long ran cold, not caring that he’d used up four times the expected water allowance of a citizen, caught up in furious musings.

But when he dried himself off, staring at his face in the mirror, he told himself to leave it outside. Leave all those feelings between the roots of the trees, in the creek running between their ruins, and in the mist that lifted from the moss.

It wasn’t worth taking it home with him. 

As he lifted the covers, trying not to wake Lucy Gray, she rolled over.

“Oh, you’re back.” 

It was as though he’d just run out to grab something from the store, not returned from an assassination plot. 

“Yeah.” 

“Took you a bit longer.” 

“Yeah.” 

There was a long pause, “How was it?” 

Coriolanus considered telling her about how Gaul had mischievously smiled as she fell back into the water, or how Clemenisa had kissed him, or how small and fragile her neck had felt underneath his gloved hands…but instead, Coriolanus rolled on his side.

“Uneventful.” 

Lucy Gray snorted, “Well, it’s done now. Put it behind us.”

XXX

It was easier said than done to put it behind Coriolanus.

By day, there was nary a crack in his facade, nothing to show he gave his little trip down to the Capitol a second thought. But by night, he rolled with insomnia, plagued by insecurities. Had he made the right move? Should he have killed Clemmie and left her somewhere or brought her body with him and buried it in the earth? Should she have been fertilizer for his poison, leeching from her body, never to be found again? Should he have done what she wanted to keep her quiet; he didn’t think she held affection for him, not like Livia had. No, she just wanted to do it once. She was a Capitol wife, not bound to the usual things that would bother others, like infidelity. He was sure Reece was sleeping with half his staff too, that’s just how it was. The whole of the Capitol lived for sin and vice, no matter how properly you may express yourself to be.

Should he have shown Gaul his face or kept his mask on, prodding her into the water with a detached coldness? 

Should he have gone at all? 

For days, Coriolanus was kept up by this damn trip, sure that he’d messed up somewhere and that it would all come crashing down…and when Arius sent him an urgent ‘S.O.S’ outside of their usual meeting time, Coriolanus was absolutely certain it was to warn him that Panem was coming for him.

He met Arius upside, on edge, and jittery. His fingers twitched at his sides, a gun shoved into his pocket. He wasn’t going to go down easily if Arius and his rebellion goons had decided he was better dead than alive. 

“What is this about?” Coriolanus snarled, nervous. The easiest way to make sure no one saw his terror was to posture, meaner than usual. 

“Oh, man, Coryo-,” Arius seemed stricken, “Something happened. We had to take someone out of the deep unexpectedly.” 

Relief sagged through Coriolanus’s bones. 

“That’s it?” He gave a low chuckle, “An Ex-Panenite? Hardly worth an emergency ping,” He scoffed. He wondered who it would be this time. There was a journalist who had been making some people side-eye his coverage recently. Or maybe a Peacekeeper who let some kind of things slip one too many times. Or perhaps one of the former Victors was running their mouth, young and dumb? 

“No, you don’t…” Arius pressed his lips together, “I’m sorry, Coryo, for not giving you a bigger head up but as it is-,” 

“Hilarius, can’t we come out now? It’s so stuffy in there-,” 

Coriolanus felt every inch of him freeze at once, his limbs as stiff as ice. His heart thudded fast in his chest, only increasing in speed as a stringy, long-limbed figure climbed out of the jet, pushing long blonde hair behind her ear as she took unsteady steps toward the earth, legs clenching from sitting awkwardly for hours. 

Coriolanus wanted to speak, but the words wouldn’t leave his lips. 

Tigris? 

“We’re over here,” Arius said, a weird half-smile on his face, something that Coriolanus took as an apology. 

Coriolanus did feel like someone had just knocked the wind out of him. It had been fifteen years since he’d seen his cousin, his favorite person in the world. He’d dreamed so many times of finding her again, but it had always been on his terms when he could offer her so much more than shocked faces and half-baked plans. He wasn’t ready for her, he needed more time, and all at once, he understood why this felt like an emergency. 

But he didn’t have time. He had five seconds, five agonizingly long seconds for Tigris to adjust to the moonlight that filtered through the trees and catch the two figures silhouetted in the dark. 

Her palms grasped the side of the jet and for a second, Coriolanus wasn’t sure that she saw him properly.

Then, her legs just collapsed out from under her and she slipped onto the grass, a long, wailing sob ripping from her throat.

But happy tears; she was grinning beneath it all, shaking and half-laughing between her hiccuping gasps of breath. 

“Tigris-,” The words spilled out like he’d been stalled, and right then Coriolanus was running towards her, grasping her shoulder and hugging her, like they were still toddlers and no time had ever passed. 

“You…asshole!” She hit him with her fists, “I thought you were dead!” 

“I…” Coriolanus swallowed, “I am, to Panem, at least. I couldn’t contact you at first, and then when I could I just…” He couldn’t meet her eyes, shame coloring his cheeks, “It just felt like it had been too long.” 

“And this is better?” She asked, wiping her eyes. Coriolanus’ eyes flickered up to hers, unsure, and her face changed from anger to joy. 

“Oh, get over here, you,” She muttered, pulling Coriolanus with the crook of her arm, burying her nose into his hair, “You still smell the same, you know.” 

“You smell like Capitol,” Coriolanus mumbled in her grasp. 

She made a dismissive cough. 

He pulled away, helping her stand. He wasn’t ready to take her down yet. He wanted this moment to just be theirs. As soon as they were down there, he wasn’t sure they could be cousins. But up here, they were together again, Tigris and Coriolanus against the world. 

“So you found yourself in trouble with those that be?” He asked with a half-smile. He should have expected it. Tigris always had more issues with Panem than Coriolanus did. 

“I did something dumb, but worth it,” Tigris said, leaning on her elbows on her knees, staring at Coriolanus like she couldn’t quite believe he was in front of her still. 

“Oh?” 

“Well, I’ve been a Capitol designer for the past ten years,” She said, drawing little circles in the dirt with her shoe, “And it’s been a dream, or it was. But it’s so nasty there, and every year I just couldn’t…stomach it.” She admitted, breathing out a ragged sob. 

Arius nodded in agreement behind her, a somber agreement. 

“What did you do, Tig?” Coriolanus asked, a half-grin on his face. Whatever it was, she was born of the same dramatics he was. 

“I find myself thinking of Lucy Gray a lot, you know?” Tigris said quietly, staring up at the stars. Coriolanus stiffened, shooting a look back to Arius, wondering if he’d hinted on the way over there… Of course, Arius shouldn’t know with any certainty he was married to Lucy Gray either. He still kept her close to his heart, unseen in this world, in case…in case things went south. He didn’t ever want her tied to his name, his rebellion, his downfall.

“Lucy Gray?” He asked, trying to sound casual. 

“I know everyone thinks you killed her, but I didn’t believe it. I thought you both were killed. I should have known you made it out, but, well, I’m sure you think of her often too.” 

She looked at him, tilting her head and when Coriolanus answered, it was a long swallow, “You could say that.” 

“I just hope wherever she is…she’s at peace,” Tigris said, “She didn’t deserve it. I’d had an issue with the Hunger Games before her, but Lucy Gray just opened my eyes to everything. And what thanks did she get?” 

She thinks Lucy Gray died…

But why would she assume otherwise? Why would she think that Coriolanus, who had kept his feelings close to his chest, would have gone out of his way, done something absolutely out of character to stay with her, to keep her safe? He hadn’t known how to explain his feelings to anyone then, certainly not Tigris. She assumed their romance to be manufactured or a waning fling. The idea that Coriolanus had given up everything he had for her must have never been a likely path.

It warmed Coriolanus, in some ways, that there had been so many that Lucy Gray had changed. That, maybe, on those days in Thirteen when Lucy Gray felt the most beaten down, she would get a strike of sunshine, and it would have been Tigris missing her, mourning her. 

“Anyway, I’ve been upsetting my superiors with my ‘gloomy attitude’ for a while now. Got booted to District 12, the punishment district. The girl that was reaped…oh, Coryo, she looked just like Lucy Gray. Same dark hair, same fury in her eyes, same sting. So I knew I’d get in trouble, but I couldn’t help it.” 

“...And?” Coriolanus leaned in, anticipation and curiosity scuttling across his skin. 

“And I remade the dress that Lucy Gray wore in her reaping for the girl to wear; the rainbow one. And people started talking about Lucy Gray again, and how unfair it was that she almost didn’t win because Gaul couldn’t help herself and people are opening their eyes again, Coryo!” 

“So you nearly started a revolution?” Coriolanus couldn’t help a laugh escape his lips. 

“I didn’t mean to. Or maybe I did…” She sighed, “I don’t know. Arius found me and gave me a card in case things got…dicey. I didn’t think I’d need it. I’d ruffled a few feathers, but well…” She licked her lips, “The girl from Tweleve was killed in the Hunger Games today. Arrow through the neck. And someone started following me and I think…I think I was meant to be a warning,” Her voice dropped down to a horrified whisper. 

“You did the right thing, Tigris, you’re safe here now.” 

Tigris lifted her head, staring at the trees, “Where is ‘here’?” 

Coriolanus stood, offering his hand, a grin curling on his lips, “District Thirteen, of course,” He said, “Also not dead.” 

Tigris covered her lips, laughing again, a full-bodied rumble that had her bending over in disbelief. 

“Wait,” Coriolanus turned to Arius, scowling, “She said ‘we’...can ‘we’ get off…” He turned his expression to the jet, “Don’t tell me you went and got married, Tig?” 

“Oh, nothing of the sort,” Tigris waved her hand, “But, well…” She pressed her lips, leading Coriolanus to the gangplank. Up in the cargo hold, with blankets thrown over their shoulders as they slept on potato sacks were two white-haired kids, older than Elly but younger than Alma. 

“Yours?” Coriolanus startled back, “But you said…you didn’t…Tigris?” He asked with an accusatory glare. 

“Look, it didn’t mean it to happen!” Tigris hissed quietly, “But after you were assumed dead and Grandma'am died I just…couldn’t take it. I went to a party, got a little high on Morphling, and well…afterward…” 

“Oh, no,” Coriolanus groaned into his hand, “Seriously?” 

“They’ve been what’s kept me going, Coryo,” Tigris said sharply, “They’ve saved my life hundreds of times. I didn’t have anyone else, I was all alone!” 

“Do you know who their father is?” 

Tigris gave a casual shrug, “It doesn’t matter. I’m their mother and that’s all they’ve ever known.”

“So…you do…” 

“I have ideas, not confirmations. But as I said, it’s all for naught. It doesn’t matter now.” 

Coriolanus peered in again, “Suppose not.” 

But it kept him dreadfully curious. 

Arius helped pick one of the children up and put them unceremoniously in Coriolanus’s arms, and Tigris took the other. They were almost too old to hold, Coriolanus thought, but they seemed so young all at once. There was a pureness in them that he recognized in Nu, something scarcely seen. But of course, any children of Tigris were sure to be good. 

“They’re ten years old,” Tigris answered the unspoken question, “Won’t let me hold them like this much longer, you know,” She added with a sad laugh. She must have had them right after Grandmaam’s death, Coriolanus realized, counting back. They were a year older than Ant. How crazy for him to think that they were older than his offspring, and he’d never known they were out there. 

This is your niece and nephew…cousins to your kids…

Coriolanus stared at their full cheeks, dead asleep. 

“Some sleeping pills,” Arius confirmed quietly, “Didn’t want them waking up scared.” 

“Who do I have?” Coriolanus asked quietly, gingerly…kindly. 

“That’s Aurelia,” Tigris whispered, “And this is Veturio.” 

Coriolanus shot her a heartfelt look, “Really?” He asked. 

Tigris shrugged, “I just missed you.” 

That much was obvious. His middle name was ‘Aurelius’ and Grandma’ams real name (something no one had known until they were teenagers) had been Veturia. 

“I should be going…” Arius broke in, “Now that we’re…settled?” 

“Same time as usual?” Coriolanus confirmed. 

Then, he took his family through Thirteen. This late, it was all but deserted. He wasn’t sure where he was going to put them, but for right now, his office would do. 

“In here?” Tigris asked uncertainty, “Are you sure?” 

“Yes.” 

“Won’t…” She eyed the title on the door cautiously, “Won’t the President mind?” 

Coriolanus grinned, turning to laugh as he eased Aurelia onto one of the sofas, “I don’t.” 

He turned to see Tigris rolling her eyes, “God, Coryo, I ought to have known…President before thirty, I’m sure…” 

“Just missed it, but almost,” He agreed with a wink. 

“Wow, President…guess you got what you always wanted, huh?” She asked, sitting next to Veturio, running her fingers through his curly hair, and watching her children sleep. 

Coriolanus went around his desk to where a photo sat. Actual photos were hard to come by, but he’d splurged to have this one developed. 

“Are you happy, though?” Tigris asked, worried, “I imagine it must be…well, lonely in that role…and you’ve never taken to people well…always kept them at arm's length.” 

Coriolanus picked up the photo, “Tigris, I’m glad you’re going to be sitting down for this.” He was grinning. If Tigris was pleased to see him alive, she would be over the moon to find out Lucy Gray had made it.

Tigris looked up at him, confused, and took the picture frame from him, studying it like it held the answers to the universe. It was recent, taken just last year. Though, of course, Elly was very changed by this point, and no longer a newborn in Lucy Gray’s arms, but probably would have been dropping bugs for the photographer to stomp around. 

“Wait that’s…” Tigris held it closer to her face, “That’s…you?” 

“Yeah.” 

“And…oh my god…” The photograph almost slipped through her fingers, “Lucy Gray?” She asked, her voice creaking, tears gathering in her eyes. 

“In the flesh.” 

“So these…that must mean…” She looked up at Coriolanus, wiping her eyes, “You’re a father, Coryo?” 

He waved his hands, “Surprise?” 

She stared at the picture, “I never thought…well, I thought I’d see the day, but I never thought you’d be…happy in the photo.” 

“Me neither,” Coriolanus agreed, shocked by his own honesty. 

“You left with her,” Tigris pieced it together, grasping her heart, “Oh my gosh, you left for her.” 

She set the photo on her lap, bringing her hands together in front of her lips, her fingertips brushing her nose as she tried to blink back tears, “Tell me everything.” 

So he did. He explained how he and Lucy Gray had found thirteen. How they were just Linnette Rose and Oleander here, a girl escaping the Hunger Games and a former peacekeeper who loved her. How they’d built their lives under these faces. He talked about his kids, about how she was Aunt Tigris, and told her everything he could about them. They talked all night, swapping years of missed time. 

As dawn rose, not that they could tell underground, but alerted by a ping, Coriolanusscolwed. 

“What’s the matter?” 

“We can’t be cousins here,” He sighed, “They’d know something was up if I had a cousin from the Capitol that suddenly appeared. And your kids might understand…” 

“...But we don’t want any slip-ups. Coriolanus Snow needs to stay dead.” 

“Yeah.” 

Tigris drew him in for a hug, “This is enough. We’ll still be friends. We always will be.” She suddenly shot up, “Oh! Wait, I have something you may want.” 

She went and dug in one of the bags she’d taken with her. 

When she came up, she was holding…a single rose, carefully wrapped in a potted plant, as fresh and red as he remembered. 

“From Grandma’am’s garden?” 

“Couldn’t let them die out.” 

Gleeful, Coriolanus grabbed her hand, “Come with me!” 

He pulled her through the halls, still mostly empty, all the way to the gardens. While Tigris ‘oohed’ and ‘aahed’ at the look of it, he pulled her all the way to the back.

There was a spot outside his greenhouse that he hadn’t known what to do with…but it sort of felt like it was just waiting for this.

“A rose for a Rose,” Tigris giggled as he placed it from the pot into the ground, “I think Grandma’am would be happy to know that one day they’ll be everywhere. And in a sense, her legacy is still here.” 

“Yeah,” Coriolanus agreed, standing back, the red stark against the dirt and the greens, “Feels complete now.” 

“The garden, right?” Tigris nudged him, winking, ever-knowing. 

Coriolanus nudged her back, “Right. The garden.” 

XXX

It didn’t take long for Tigris and the twins to settle in.

Of course, the first day after waking up was tough for the pair. They were used to the glamour of the Capitol, so yes, this all must seem like such a let-down in comparison.

“Well, why don’t you get Ant to befriend them?” Tigris suggested, “She’s about their age, isn’t she?” 

Coriolanus choked on his water. 

“Ant? Oh, god no! She’s, well, she’d be the opposite of what we want. The ‘unwelcome wagon’, not to mince words.” 

“So she’s you,” Tigris surmised with a grin. 

“I know that Nu is younger, but I think he’s probably a bit more…friendly…” Lucy Gray agreed, “Plus, everyone likes Nu, so he’ll be able to find some friends, easily. And Oak’s youngest, Cab, is their age.” 

“The Finchlys are Good People,” Coriolanus agreed, trying not to make a face. 

“Oh, how terrible that is,” Tigris rolled her eyes. 

“Don’t let this grumpy gills fool you,” Lucy Gray leaned in, “Oak’s his best friend.” 

“Didn’t think you had friends, Coryo,” Tigris let out a loud laugh. 

“I don’t .” He saw Lucy Gray lean back and wink to Tigris, “I don’t!” 

But it worked. Between Nu and Cab who introduced them to others their age, soon, they were just grateful to have friends. And that their mom wasn’t going to be killed. At age ten, they were far more perceptive than Tigris thought either to be. 

There was only one moment when Coriolanus was afraid that intelligence would bite them in their asses.

A few weeks after Tigris’ arrival, one day when Veturio and Cab stopped by to pick up Nu on their way to the gardens for a round of kicking a rubber ball around, he scrutinized Coriolanus with a very concerned look. 

“...What?” 

“You look like a picture that my mom had on her bedside table,” He replied. 

“Oh?” Coriolanus pretended to chuckle, as though the idea was absurd. 

“Uh-huh. Our Uncle Coryo that died years, and years, and years ago, before we were born,” Veturio nodded. 

Coriolanus stiffened, trying to breathe normally. What if he said something? What if he connected the dots? Damn it! 

“But not exactly like him,” Veturio declared after a long moment of examining him. 

Perhaps it was that the picture of him that Tigris must have would have been when he was very young. Perhaps it was his military photo, the one with his head shaved. Either way, he looked similar, he was sure, but not exactly the same. 

“That so?” Coriolanus gave a chuckle. 

“Yeah, Uncle Coryo in the picture is much better looking than you.” 

“That’s our President!” Cab nearly choked, looking at Coriolanus like he was about to throw them both to the wilds upstairs, “You can’t say that!” 

Coriolanus, relieved, only laughed, “I’m sure your late uncle was very handsome. Shame I never got to meet him.” 

Veturio scratched behind his ear, pouting, “Yeah, wish I had too.” 

And, that was simply that. 

Sometimes, Coriolanus was glad that kids were so, so dumb. 

XXX

Without having to worry about how Tigris was, time slipped by faster and faster. Perhaps it was because of how full he felt like his life was now, stretched out thin between his wife and children, between Tigris, between Oak, between the rebellion…time had always seemed to move so slowly, too slowly, like tree sap dripping from his hands. But sometimes now, Coriolanus felt like he blinked and another year had passed. 

And then another.

And then just a little bit more.

When it came to Lucy Gray and Coriolanus' children, each was different and unique. 

Ant was cunning and calculated and could charm anyone with a smile. Now that she was 11, Coriolanus was grappling with the realization that her terrible toddler years were hardly the worst to come. No, he was fully aware that her pre-teen years were just going to ramp up to her being a menace of a teen, something Tigris was eager to see.

“Serves you right,” She would tease.

“I was perfect!” Coriolanus argued, “I never gave Grandma’am any stress!” 

Tigris would always give him a look as though to ask if he was absolutely delusional. 

Either way, Coriolanus and Lucy Gray were acutely aware of how challenging she was going to be for them. In class, perfect angel. At home…demon. 

No inbetween. 

And Nu was sweet and earnest and made friends with an ease that Cor knew Ant was jealous of, and never had a bad thing to say about anyone…and no one had a bad thing to say about him. He was nine and so gentle. Coriolanus would just stare at him sometimes and wonder if any of his DNA had made it into that child, and in the darkest parts of the night, he was almost sure that it truly was Sejanus reincarnated. 

And then Elly? Well, Elly was…Elly.

At four, she was just as much a mystery as the day she’d been born. No, scratch that. Sometimes, Coriolanus felt like he was getting a grasp on his youngest daughter. She had a fascination with bugs, spiders, and snakes. She was still deathly quiet, only talking when she had something to say, and when she did, it was often nonsensical. She didn’t seem to favor her mother or father but would sit by herself, her eyes wide and liquid and her eyebrows eternally furrowed in a deep state of musing that Coriolanus nor Lucy Gray could not break. 

Her parents were not the only ones to notice. Everyone else was far too nice to say anything. Tigris, however? Well, they were basically siblings. She had no filter when it came to Coriolanus.

One day, when Coriolanus was eating lunch with Tigris, she turned to Coriolanus unexpectedly. 

“Has it ever occurred to you that Elly-,” 

“Is weird?” Coriolanus asked, not even giving a second glance up as he took a bite of his meal, “Yes.” 

Tigris leaned over and swatted his arm, “Coryo, that’s terrible! Why would you say that about your own daughter?” 

Coriolanus looked up, frowning. Since when did this become a ‘pick on Coriolanus’ session? Wasn’t she about to say the same thing? Why was it bad when he said it. Wasn’t he the only one allowed to? 

Weird was, actually, the least offensive thing that he could say. He and Lucy Gray sometimes discussed all the things she was. He loved her all the same, but weird was hardly the worst of her qualities. 

“It’s not a bad thing, Tig,” Coriolanus insisted, “Lucy Gray is weird too.” 

“Oh my god, you’ve made it worse.” 

Now unsure if he was going to get into a fight with his wife because Tigris was going to go and absolutely misrepresent it to her, Coriolanus locked his jaw, “I’m being serious. She’s weird. Do you know what she said the did time we met on the platform? She ate the rose I gave her and said ‘Tastes like bedtime.’” 

Tigris’ lip twitched with humor, “Yes, I’ve heard the story-,” 

“Well, that’s weird! Like mother, like daughter.” 

Tigris let a bubbling laugh escape, “You married her.” 

“Yes, I’m aware,” Coriolanus said with a warm grin, “Weird is a compliment, to me. Wait…what were you going to say?” 

“Just that…I dunno, she doesn’t seem to favor either of you,” Tigris mused, leaning on her palm, shrugging, “In looks, sure, she looks like both of you. A perfect mix. So you think she personally would be that. But Ant is you through and through-,” 

“I know,” Coriolanus couldn’t help but smirk. 

“-And Nu is his mother, right down to the way he plays music. Such a keen ear for melody, it’s incredible. But Elly?” She wavered a hand, “I haven’t figured out who she is. You might say Lucy Gray, but I just don’t buy it. Lucy Gray isn’t weird, she’s just…unique. In a different way. Elly is…Elly.” 

“Well, I can confirm, she did come out of Lucy Gray. She’s absolutely ours.” 

Tigris threw a wadded-up napkin at Coriolanus. 

“I’m not saying that. I just…I wonder what she’ll be like one day. Don’t you?” 

Coriolanus snorted, “Every damn day.” 

XXX

The first Victor Coriolanus brought in from the cold was also his last.

Not that, mind you, that meant the project was dead in the water.

Rather, more specifically, he was booted from having a hand in that. 

“He’s a psychopath, Coriolanus! A pyromaniac!” 

“He’s none of those things,” Coriolanus huffed, “He’s clever. He’s determined. He’s scrawny; exactly the type that we need here. He wants to survive…I want to help him,” He said firmly, waving his drink around. 

“He tried to gut a Peacekeeper. He’s feral,” Tigris sniffed, shaking her head. 

“Easier for us to make him disappear,” Coriolanus said, “It was handed to us on a silver platter. But he’s not suicidal. Plus…” He thought of Lucy Gray, the wildness in her eyes, “A little feral in his blood is good for us.” 

“He hasn’t talked.” 

“He’s overwhelmed.” 

“You’re too…” Tigris waved her hands around, struggling, staring at her cousin with frustration, “You enjoy the games too much.” 

“I don’t,” Coriolanus argued, as that was a bitter thing to say to anyone. It was a Capitol thing and Coriolanus was trying very much to be less of that, as much as he could. 

“You do,” Tigris said a sad smile on her face, “It’s who you are. You see all these kids as just pieces on a chessboard. And you root for people, the Careers.” 

“The people that win. People that are worth our while.” 

Tigris leaned back on his chair in the office, biting her cheek. She’d become a part of the rebellion, naturally. Arius liked her. Better than Coriolanus, which he always made a point to talk about. 

“Maybe, but you ignore those that are from lesser districts. The underdogs. This kid sets an entire arena on fire and, oh, you’re just ticked pink.” 

Coriolanus gave her a tired sigh. Underdogs were exhausting. 

“See! It’s that face!” Tigris insisted. 

“Oh, so you’re going to pick ‘em?” Coriolanus asked, rolling his eyes, “Not Arius. He doesn’t live here. He doesn’t decide.” 

“No,” Tigris tapped her fingers on the armchair, “No, not me. I get far too emotional. I cry every time one of those kids dies. I’d want to save them all.” Tigris raised her head, “What about Lucy Gray?” 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Oh, Coryo, why not?” Tigris was up now, pacing, “She’s gone through the games! She won; she’s the first Thirteen Victor Transplant, you know? If she’d be able to clock a good choice, it would be her and-,” 

“I’m not pulling her into this!” 

Tigris paused, “Into…what?” 

“This…” He waved between them, nervous now, “The rebellion. She has kids. Our kids. One of us has to…if things go south…” 

“She’s an adult. Shouldn’t she decide?” Tigris argued, “Wouldn’t she like to be a part of taking down the system that forced her into those terrible games?” 

“Probably, but that’s out of the question. We’re not asking Lucy Gray-,” 

“Asking me what?” Lucy Gray questioned with a humored chuckle, pushing open the door to the office, “Your son is causin’ havoc on Nu’s morality, Tigris,” She said with a grin, “I think he’s a bad influence.” 

Coriolanus choked on his water. 

Tigris sighed, “Yes, probably.” She leaned in, eager, “How is Emrys settling in?” 

Emrys Avery, District 5, Fifteen. The newest winner of the Hunger Games and the most recently ‘deceased’. Coriolanus’s first pick. 

As he said, a little stringy, growly thing. Won by making complicated fireballs and lit his opponents aflame. And even if he didn’t talk, Coriolanus knew there was a brilliant mind, just waiting to be tapped. He’d been on the fence about bringing him in until he heard that when a Peacekeeper had tried to take his matches from him, he’d stabbed the bastard.

That seemed like the exact sort of person Coriolanus wanted under his wing.

He understood it; the claw, the desperation to do anything to survive. He’d been there, years ago. 

He’d already been a bother to the Capitol. He probably had done the favor by bringing him underground. He’d do more good for them here in Thirteen than he ever would in Panem; if he hadn’t been actually strung up for that stunt, Coriolanus could see a future of adrenaline-filled nightmares that pushed him over the edge before he was thirty.

But here…Coriolanus was sure they could get through to him, put him on a path to something greater. 

He was lucky to be reaped. 

“How do you figure?” Lucy Gray asked tiredly, “It’s overwhelming as an adult. So much more so as a kid.” 

“You weren’t that much older when we arrived,” Coriolanus reminded her, filled with images of Lucy Gray in her youth, baby-faced and full of fire. 

“Sure, but I had you, darlin’,” Lucy Gray said, “And a will to live. Though I suppose if he’s here, he does too. Now, ask me what?” She said, too smart to let that pass by her. 

“You should pick the Victors,” Tigris grasped her hands, “The other ones we bring in. Don’t let your idiot husband do it anymore-,” 

“Who’s side are you on?” Coriolanus muttered furiously. 

“-Hers, obviously,” Tigris said with an impish grin, “Anyway, Lucy Gray, you know this game better than any of us. You know the good eggs when you see ‘em, able to pick out which ones are good people that do bad things and the other way around.” 

Lucy Gray licked her lips, uncertain, “I don’t enjoy watchin’ those games…” 

“Which is why it ought to be you,” Tigris insisted, “You’d be doing it for the good of their lives, the good of Thirteen. Not who will pay you back in the future for such a boon.” She glared over Lucy Gray to Corio. He threw up his hands. 

“It’s hard for me,” Lucy Gray said stiffly, “To have to watch that.”

“Goddamn, Tigris, could you be a bit more sensitive?” Coriolanus said, furious all of a sudden. 

“It’s not transactional for you. You see the kids.” Tigris gave one last push, “Just…think on it, please?” 

“I don’t like this,” Coriolanus shook his head solemnly. Lucy Gray’s own games had been…early. From what he’d heard, by this point, it was much bigger. A machine of sorts. More gore, more spectacle. He had gotten away by word of mouth, not watching, but from the way Tigris was speaking…He didn’t want to subject Lucy Gray to that anguish, all those nasty feelings she’d shoved down, ignored. 

And the matter was dropped, for a time. 

Emrys acclimated slowly. He was in between Oak’s kid in age but molded himself to their daughter Pinn. She didn’t know it, but they all came from 5 too. Or maybe she remembered, Coriolanus wondered. Maybe they had images, hazy ideas of a past life. Cab was far too young to recall, but maybe Pinn and Berry did. Maybe talking to Emrys, who always kept that wild look in his eyes, reminded her of something she didn’t know that she had left behind. 

Coriolanus was not going to bring up the matter to Lucy Gray.

It had time to breathe; it would be a whole year until another Hunger Games was started up. 

She always had a keen sense of something tying her to it. No matter when the Reaping occurred if they changed it to a different week or switched it up, Lucy Gray always seemed to know. Sensed it, in an eerie way. When Coriolanus asked once, she told him she heard the cries of the innocent in her dreams, and he was never sure if she was pulling his leg or actually serious. 

The next year, on the eve of the Reaping, without Coriolanus speaking a whisper of it, Lucy Gray still knew.

She was distracted, so much so that she cut her hand on a knife, something she hadn’t done in years. As Ant rushed to get her a towel to wrap her hand, Lucy Gray just stared at the blood dripping onto the countertop. 

“Do we need to get the medic?” Nu asked, hovering nervously, eyes wide, “Mama?” 

“No,” She said, breaking from her trance, though her eyes didn’t leave her palm, “No, it’s just a little cut, baby. Hardly anything.” 

Ant grasped her mother’s hand, carefully wrapping the bandage around it, unbothered completely by blood. Elly poked her head around, curious (far too much so), while Nu sniffled. At ten, he was still so tender. 

Coriolanus knew something was eating at her, but Lucy Gray was spurred to speak in her own time. No matter of pushing it earlier than necessary. 

And she did; that night, as she stared at herself in the mirror, her eyes trapped in a faraway haze.

“It happened tonight, didn’t it?” She asked quietly, “The Reaping. Twenty-eight years of it.” Her voice cracked as she spoke. 

“Yes.” 

He didn’t talk about the hopefuls that he had already started to focus on, about those he thought would be dead within moments, or those that had screamed and cried and fought on the stage. She didn’t need to know any of that. 

She brushed her fingers through her hair, giving a heavy sigh, “I want to.” 

The words, so out of place, confused Coriolanus. 

“Want to…what?” 

She turned on her vanity seat, examining Coriolanus cautiously, “I want to pick the kids.” 

Coriolanus swallowed, “You don’t know what you’re putting yourself through.” 

“Oh, I know it,” Lucy Gray said humorlessly, “I’ve lived it. I know exactly what’s going on in their heads.” 

“You can’t save all of them,” Coriolanus said firmly, worried that Tigirs had put ideas in her head that would topple the revolution, such as mysteriously making every Victor vanish. 

“Oh, Tigris isn’t like us,” Lucy Gray chuckled, reading Coriolanus like an open book, “All Capitol. Good heart, but can’t imagine the bigger picture. She worked to free her own guilt. We’re working on something much bigger,” She said, determined, “We want to cut ‘em at their knees, take their best.” 

“Yes,” Coriolanus said, feeling hesitantly better about possibly agreeing. 

“I won’t enjoy a second of it,” Lucy Gray said angrily, shaking her head, “Every moment will be torture, but it will remind me what our goal is.” 

“I don’t like it.” 

“You don’t have to, but should I remind you of all the things you’ve done I don’t?” 

Coriolanus winced, “No, not necessary.” He licked his lips, “I don’t want Arius to be in contact. I’ll send those you want to pull.” 

“Deal,” Lucy Gray said, “Durin’ it, I won’t be disturbed, though. I can’t bring that out here.” 

“No,” Coriolanus had done a very precarious job of keeping the knowledge of the games from his children, “You can’t.” 

By the time the 29th games rolled around, Lucy Gray had a shelter to hide in, complete with all the feeds from the games. Arius didn’t know who had taken over Coriolanus’s role, he just knew her as the Lady of the Underground.

It felt fitting. Coriolanus’s Persephone reborn. A girl who came in, stringing together flower crowns for residents, painting her jumpsuit, so full of sunshine. A girl who now walked in death, each year, and watched the contestants with a careful, scrutinizing gaze. What was Thirteen if not a graveyard of people who were not meant to still be alive? 

A woman much more capable, something Coriolanus sometimes forgot, but was always swiftly corrected.

Coriolanus expected her to cry. But she never did. He wasn’t sure if she would cry within the safety of the locked door, or if she’d used up all her tears on the Hunger Games long ago.

XXX

Lucy Gray was discerning with it came to her choices.

Year after year, Coriolanus expected her to come out of that darkened room and announce that this one, this Victor, must be saved.

But she didn’t.

Year, after year, after year.

Lucy Gray would exit, spend the afternoon with Tawny, and then come home and just shrug. 

“Not the right ones.” 

Coriolanus, though he itched to be in motion, kept himself back.

His wife was brilliant. When she found someone worth their time, she’d speak of it. 

When she finally did pick her first victor, she was so sure of it that she came out early. 

“There’s someone, a boy,” She whispered, her excitement rippling like lightning, “I think... if he wins…Oh, I hope he does.” 

She told him no other information, nothing else to take to Arius to pry for more information, such as what District he came from or what he could have done already to have Lucy Gray so impressed. 

All he could do was wait in anxious anticipation, sure that this boy would die and Lucy Gray would be devastated, and he’d have to pick up the pieces. She’d never gotten so attached before, not even to those from District 12. 

But, as she often reminded him, she was Covey. Those people held little fondness in her heart, just the poor nameless souls no different from District 10 or 8. 

But no District 12 contestant had ever made it close to winning, and all Coriolanus could glean from Arius was that the District 12 tributes had died early on, so it couldn’t be either of them that had Lucy Gray so strangely eager. 

When Lucy Gray exited again, she was nearly bursting at the seams in excitement. 

“He won, Coryo, he won!” She grasped his face and kissed him hard, relief rattling her bones. 

“Who, darling, who?” 

“His name is Beetee; he’s from three and he’s the smartest son of a gun I’ve ever seen,” She said, “We have to-,” 

“He has to want to,” Coriolanus reminded her. They weren’t in the business of kidnapping. Well, at least not adults. A lot of the careers hadn’t seemed like they were bothered by the sudden fame, and if anything, were enjoying it. 

“I’m sure he’s a good one,” Lucy Gray said, determined, “Just watch him.” 

Pressing his lips together, anticipating disappointment, Coriolanus passed his name along to Arius, and then they waited. They waited for Beetee to sneer at Capitol ways, to make himself unpopular, to espouse displeasure in the system. 

Lucy Gray was adamant he would.

“He’s like me,” She said, “He understands the way things are. He’s not blinded by the money they throw at him, making him feel like he’s important. He knows the truth of things…just wait. He may only be seventeen, but he’s clever. That’s how he won, of course.” 

Arius kept tabs on him, and for a while, he holed himself away and did not come out for a long time, and Coriolanus was sure that they wouldn’t snag him. And perhaps they wouldn’t have if the Capitol had only left him alone.

Six months later, at the start of his Victory Tour, he snapped on camera, furious that the Capitol had made him a killer and that Flickerman had the fucking gall to ask him which of his kills he remembered most fondly.

When Thirteen and the revolution offered him a different way, a path to bring down Panem at the mere price of his life, Beetee didn’t hesitate.

According to the Capitol Register news, Beetee Latire committed suicide just seven months after winning the Hunger Games, unable to cope with the stress and expectations of victory. 

No one ever batted an eye. 

XXX

Beetee was a most peculiar youth.

He stood in Coriolanus’s office, eyes glued to the floor, a nervous tick at his fingers. Clutched in his other hand was a raggedy old suitcase, something from before the Dark Days. When Coriolanus had questioned what was with him, Beetee had opened it to show him an assortment of wires, tools, and mechanical items that Coriolanus thought looked like trash. But Beetee seemed quite protective of it, holding it close to his body as though Coriolanus was seconds away from snatching it from his hand. The only time he’d been able to get through something other than mumbles was when he was trying to describe their importance. Something in his eyes lit up and he was suddenly speaking faster than could keep up, hands making elaborate motions and whole posture straightening. 

Lucy Gray was beaming ear to ear.

“Wait until you see the labs we have, darlin’, and you can use them any time you want.” 

Beetee swallowed, pursing his lips together. 

“What’s the matter?” Coriolanus asked, unsure why the sudden attitude change. 

“To better Thirteen, isn’t that right?” 

“Well, everyone has a role to play here,” Coriolanus said with a mild chuckle, though in reality, he felt uneasy by Beetee’s expression. 

“If I m..m…may,” Beetee used his shirt to clean his glasses, “What makes here better than there? What makes you different?” 

“We don’t send kids to their deaths, for starters,” Coriolanus said hotly, narrowing his eyes. Beetee nodded, soaking in his answer. This kid seemed stringy. It was hard to imagine he’d killed out all the other tributes, but yet, here he was. Coriolanus guessed it was never a show of brute strength…

“We want to end Panem,” Lucy Gray said quietly, “And we’ll take any help you can give us, sweetie.” 

“And then what?” Beetee asked, “Are you going to take over, President Rose, just as bad as what came before?” He scowled, “How do I know I’m not making a deal with the devil?” 

Coriolanus laughed, despite it. 

“You don’t,” He said honestly, “But here, you never have to mentor kids, watching them all die. You don’t have to play by the Capitol rules. And you certainly don’t have to be their puppet.” 

“Just yours?” 

“No,” Lucy Gray cut in before Coriolanus could say anything, “You are here for you. And whatever that may entail.” 

Beetee gave a hum, some noncommittal sort of a sound. Coriolanus wasn’t sure if he believed Lucy Gray or not. 

“Am I to assume…” He pushed up his glasses on his nose, “That a certain late victor - Mr. Avery - is here too?” 

“Clever,” Coriolanus raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t the wildest of guesses to make, but so many children were incapable of looking beyond their own noses, “He’s made quite a life for himself here.” After a transition period, Emrys had settled in. He still didn’t talk often, and sometimes Coriolanus found him with a little contained flame, just watching it carefully, but otherwise, he’d acclimated like anyone else. 

“He’s a cook,” Lucy Gray said, “And just married last year.” 

Beetee fiddled with a wire from his pocket, “Oh.” 

He didn’t seem to know what to do with that information. 

Over his head, Coriolanus sent Lucy Gray a look. Sure, he may be smart, but he wasn’t much of a conversationalist, was he? Awkward, actually. Coriolanus, who had always charmed, didn’t know how to charm someone who was the antithesis of social norms. 

Before it became more awkward, the Rose children burst through the office door. He’d really only invited Nu, since they were the same age. It was so strange to think that Nu was also seventeen and blissfully innocent. They were at the age, he and Ant, where hiding the Hunger Games was fairly impossible, as people loved to gossip. But they didn’t think much of it, as it didn’t matter to them at all. It was just a sort of ‘oh, well, that sucks’ response before they moved on.

When Ant turned nineteen two years ago, Lucy Gray had broken down crying on her birthday, bothering her to bits by kissing her head while Ant struggled away, rolling her eyes. 

The Hunger Games was nothing more than a boogyman to her, a faux scare tactic made to wet the sheets of little boys and girls. She didn’t understand why her mother (and Coriolanus, secretly) were in near hysterics that she was safe . 

Though, she was still hard-edged and ruthless. Coriolanus was sure if fates were reversed and they stayed in District 12, and if by some unlucky star looking down upon them, Ant was reaped, she wouldn’t be an easy target. If anything, she’d probably rip the other tributes' throats out and use their blood for lipstick.

A gorey image, but quite apt.

Which is why he’d tried to dissuade Ant from arriving here as much as he could. It wasn’t that Ant was unfriendly. She’d hidden herself well, just like her father. It was that her friendliness always came with strings. Beetee seemed smart enough to be able to see right through that.

And of course, Elly came two steps behind them, now gangly at twelve, desperate to be as cool and adult as her older siblings. Her birthday this year came with lots of mixed feelings…at twelve, Coriolanus couldn’t imagine her going into the games. It was barbaric. 

“Hey, you must be the new guy, I’m Nu!” Nu said, first in the office, “Have my parents been treating you well?” He was effortlessly friendly. He was able to get the guard down of anyone, and Coriolanus could see Beetee start to loosen his tensed shoulders, faced with the equivalent of a puppy dog so pleased to see him. 

“Uhm-,” 

“Hey, do you play any instruments? Sing?” Nu asked, scratching his chin, “I’m trying to get a band together to play for the Open Mic nights.” 

Beetee looked over Nu’s head, almost stricken. Coriolanus remembered how staunch the Districts were about fun or merriment, music included. It must feel like such a shock to come here, to walk through the painted walls bright with murals, be shown the garden where families ate lunch and played ball games when it was warm, and to be invited to something so useless, but moral-boosting. 

“I…uhm…I…” He stuttered, eyes widening. 

“Don’t scare him!” Elly said, shoving her brother away, “If you don’t, that’s okay too.” 

“I…” Beetee finally found his voice, warbling and nervous, “I can play the harmonica.” 

“Fantastic!” Nu punched the air, “The guys are all really great, you’ll fit right in!” 

He swallowed, “...You sure?” 

“I mean, we’re all seventeen-year-olds, so,” Nu shrugged. Beetee looked down, frowning. Coriolanus knew what he was thinking. He wasn’t really a seventeen-year-old, not after what he’d done. 

“It’ll be good to feel normal again,” Lucy Gray said quietly, reading his expression, patting his shoulder, “Nu, why don’t you take him to his room?” She suggested, “Let him settle in. He must be exhausted.” 

Beetee gave a long sigh, “Yes I am, ma’am.” And both Coriolanus and Lucy Gray knew he wasn’t just talking about the journey. It must be so weird to finally settle yourself, and remind yourself that you were safe.

If Coriolanus thought back to Lucy Gray, it was years before she stopped looking over one shoulder, expecting a monster to be lurking in corners, waiting to pounce. 

As he was moving through the door, his suitcase came unlatched. Like a waterfall, wires, bits, and bobs spilled onto the floor. It was like a tsunami taking over his entire office. 

“Oh, no!” Nu said, going to grab things, but hesitating, not wanting to break anything, “Uh-,” 

Beetee was blushed brightly, shaking more than ever. He began using his arms to push as much as he could into his suitcase, but the latch was done for, having given up after years of use. 

“Uhm…I…hmm…” Nu looked around, “Too bad I don’t have my guitar case with me.” 

“Here,” Ant rolled her eyes, dumping her purse onto one of Coriolanus’s couches, handing a canvas bag to Beetee, “Just bring it back, okay?” 

Beetee clutched it uncertainty, jaw pulled into a frown, “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah,” Nu said, looking up from the ground, “You okay there, Ant?” He teased. Ant had never quite learned what ‘sharing’ was. 

“Dad told me to make a good first impression about the types of folks in Thirteen,” Ant said, “I’m not giving it to him. It’s just a loan.” 

“Thank you, thank you,” Beetee muttered, sheepishly holding out the bag for Nu to scoop his bits and bobs into. 

Ant glanced at the grease stains left on the ground and scrunched her nose, “Wash it out before you hand it back, will you?” She said as she made a wide step over the pile for the door, “Mom, are we still meeting for lunch tomorrow?” 

“Of course, darling,” Lucy Gray said. Now that Ant was above the age of maturity, she’d moved into a dorm with Jane. Coriolanus was pretty sure Nick Leeg was going to propose to Jane, so he wasn’t sure where his daughter would go next. She was well-liked but didn’t seem to hold a close friendship with anyone else, unfortunately, they were just too spread thin on rooms to allow someone to have it alone. Even the fact that Jane and Ant were only two people was extremely unusual, but being the firstborn of the president had to come with some perks. 

“Sejanus, don’t be late to work - your boss knows where we live,” Lucy Gray said sternly as she left, after giving Coriolanus a kiss on the cheek. Things like that felt instinctual at this point, a carefully crafted facade of their relationship perfected by this long together. 

“Aww, Momma,” Nu whined, wincing, “It’s so boring .” 

Nu was internshipping with the military with plans to start a step above the regular enlistments. Coin had thought perhaps Nu would be as strategic as his father, but Coriolanus knew that wasn’t the case. Too bad the only thing Nu wanted to do was play music with his band…not exactly a worthy career. He’d burned through the rest of his job options. Secretly, Coriolanus helped a bit of a strong hand from Coin may set him straight. In some ways, Nu was still so much a child, but in so many other ways, it was obvious he was on the cusp of adulthood. 

“Not another word,” Lucy Gray shook her finger at him, “If you are late one more time, you can kiss your guitar goodbye!” She made an ‘I’m watching you’ motion with her fingers as she dipped out of the room backward, to which Nu pouted pathetically in her direction. 

“C’mon, Nu! Let’s show Beetee his room!” Elly said, tugging on Nu’s shirt. When Beetee glanced over at her, her eyes went wide and she stared straight at the ground.

Oh great.  

No, Coriolanus wasn’t ready for this yet. 

Ant hadn’t dated much, finding herself disinterested in the same way Coriolanus had been, until Lucy Gray. She was older than he was when he’d met his wife, but the pool of possibilities was far smaller, of course. It was perfectly fine with Coriolanus that she preferred her loneliness. 

Nu was a bit of a ladies man, suave and friendly. Lucy Gray claimed he got it from her. No serious girlfriends, or boyfriends (Coriolanus had seen him kiss a boy once. He surely didn’t care, as long as Nu wasn’t an idiot about any of it, boy or girl) yet. 

But Elly? No, she was twelve, far too young to have any crushes on anyone. 

Luckily, Beetee winced. He was five years her junior, unlikely to reciprocate, and if anything, see her as Nu’s annoying little sister.

Good. 

And not wrong; Elly was really annoying sometimes. 

After Nu and Elly left, Elly blabbering all about the greatness of District 13, Coriolanus settled into his desk. He buzzed for Alma. 

Alma, now twenty-four, is very much a clever young adult. As Elly was right about the age where she could watch herself (not that either of her parents trusted her to), she was needed as a babysitter. Naturally, Coriolanus had hired her as his secretary, wanting to keep her close. In reality, she was so much more. 

She was straddling bigger jobs of late, most recently helping coordinate Beetee’s arrival. She was a good middle-person for Lucy Gray concerning the rebellion since she was almost aggressively against Coriolanus having a part in it. She also tended to Lucy Gray during the weeks she’d watch the Hunger Games, making sure that Coriolanus could focus on his district, and assured that his wife was also taken care of. 

Alma arrived within minutes. She’d been given a preferential dormitory close to the President’s office, though if anyone called him out on it, Coriolanus would deny it. 

“He seems…” Alma furrowed her brow, “Smart.” It wasn’t an overwhelming seal of approval. She’d been just as mystified at Lucy Gray’s choice but was too clever to say anything bad. 

“We’ll see if he turns into a good investment,” Coriolanus snorted, “On that topic, you’re his person now, alright?” 

“Sir?” 

“Whatever he needs, you provide it. But push him, kindle his intelligence. See what we can really do for us.” 

If Alma was frustrated by her minding job, similar to babysitting, she didn’t show it, “Of course, sir.” 

“He’s settling in. Why don’t you invite him to eat dinner with you tonight?” Coriolanus suggested lightly, “Give him some friends other than Nu.” 

“Is there something wrong with Nu and his friends?” 

“No, of course not. It’s just good if he feels fully accepted.” 

“Right,” Alma nodded, drinking in Coriolanus’s instructions, “And should I tell him tonight that I’m…” She tilted her head, “His…his?” 

“No,” Coriolanus rubbed his chin, “Let him ease in a few days. We wouldn’t want the dinner invite to feel inauthentic.” He snapped his fingers, “Invite Emrys too. It might do him good to see a well-acclimated former Victor.” 

“He’s our only one,” Alma reminded with a wry smile. 

“Well, sure, but let’s not get into semantics,” Coriolanus said, frustrated by her tiny smirk. 

Alma gave a long sigh, “Alright, sir. Is there anything else?” 

“Are my flowers watered?” 

“As of this morning.” 

“In that case, you’re free to go,” Coriolanus said, “We’ll meet tomorrow and discuss next year’s Hunger Games.” 

“Sure,” Alma said. 

“And report back how it goes with Beetee for dinner!” Coriolanus called after her as she left. 

Alma was at the age where it would be only natural for her to find someone and start settling down. Most District 13 citizens had met their future spouse by the age of 22 and were married by the age of 26. If they were lucky enough to get pregnant, most children came soon after. 

Whoever Alma married, Coriolanus would need them to be useful to him. Alma was indespiensbie. He couldn’t have a husband who didn’t believe in the revolution or would be frustrated by her long hours scheming with Coriolanus, or worse, have wavering morals about poison and the like. He’d never brought it up directly, but Coriolanus was even more invested in who Alma chose, perhaps more than his own children. 

He’d held out a hope that Alma might find a connection with Emrys, but Emrys was very seriously dating Oak’s daughter Pinn. If it were anyone else, Coriolanus would have no qualms about breaking up that relationship in favor of Alma, but perhaps he had grown soft here. Oak was just over the moon, prattling on about how he expected a wedding soon whenever they hung out socially. Coriolanus figured that Oak had done enough good for Coriolanus that he could let him have this, just as a one-time courtesy. 

So his next best idea was Beetee. Yes, there was some age difference between them, but Beetee was hardly a child. He was a Hunger Games victor, and it seemed he’d been very mature even before that. 

In his head, Beetee - if he proved useful - would be the perfect husband for Alma. 

It would benefit Beetee too. There was no greater motivator to do well for your district than to have a wife from there, and possibly one day children. It had done exactly that for Coriolanus, what with the good of thirteen also coinciding with the good of his wife and children. 

Kill two birds with one stone, Coriolanus nodded to himself. 

His match-making daydreaming was interrupted by Elly barging in, going straight for Ant’s purse contents. 

“Why can’t she come go get it herself?” Coriolanus asked with a raised eyebrow.

“She said she’d let me have her dessert for a week if I did,” Elly shrugged, pushing it into a little box.

“Is Beetee doing well?” 

“Yeah,” Elly said, “Nu’s showing him the band. He’s really excited. I made sure he felt welcome. I gave him a gift.” 

Coriolanus winced, “It wasn’t a snake, was it?” 

It’s like Elly was a goddamn snake charmer. Any snake that slithered down to Thirteen was drawn to her, and she was able to curl them around her arms like they were little toys. It was absolutely unnerving. 

Not everyone was as in love with snakes as Elly was. In fact, most were downright hateful of them, and Coriolanus couldn’t blame them. Elly was not…particularly popular. Not like Ant was, even if it was all an act. Not like Nu was, who was genuinely friendly. Elly was perfectly fine in her little bubble of self, though. 

“No,” Elly said, and Coriolanus relaxed a bit. He wasn’t sure how Beetee would respond to a snake as a gift, “It was a scorpion.” 

Coriolanus gave a very long sigh. 

“And where’d you find that?” 

“A few weeks ago,” Elly said, coming to interrupt her father, sitting on his desk, her legs swinging. She was grinning ear to ear, thrilled to pieces, “I’ve been keeping it under my bed. I didn’t think I was going to give him up, but Beetee deserves a friend.” 

Coriolanus didn’t think he had the heart to tell Elly that it was likely the scorpion would be killed by Beetee’s roommates or released back into the woods. 

“That’s very kind of you.” 

It was the thought that counted, right? 

“He seemed surprised. Didn’t know what to say,” Elly said, frowning, almost making that connection, but shrugging it off right before it clicked, “Whatcha doing?” 

“Boring work,” Coriolanus said, cracking a smile. Ant kept everyone at arm’s length. It had been years since she’d curled up in her father’s arms. Nu was a Momma’s boy, everyone knew that. But Elly? She adored her father, following him around like a puppy. Perhaps she liked that Coriolanus always treated her as normal. He just shrugged off her oddities. Secretly, he was dreading the day she’d consider herself too grown up to hug her father or come talk about all the snakes and bugs she’d discovered this week. 

He had such a soft spot for her. He loved all his children in different ways for different things. He loved that Ant had the sharpness of his mind. He loved that Nu was a miniature Lucy Gray and - though Nu would say he was lying - he loved hearing him play music. He loved Elly for her strangeness, for the unabashed way she lived life, never caring what others thought. Perhaps he liked she was a mystery, both he and Lucy Gray still trying to riddle out which of them exactly she favored more. Every time he was sure that she was growing up just like Lucy Gray, she’d do something very Snow-like, or something that would confound both of them.

Life with Elly was never, ever boring. 

But Coriolanus had decided a long time ago that boring was, well, boring. 

Living this way was so much better.

“You know what?” Coriolanus said, pushing his paper aside, “I think we should go upstairs,” He said, grinning. 

Elly gasped, “Really?” 

“Yep,” Coriolanus said, “Just us.” 

“How many bugs can I bring back? How many rocks? What about dirt?” Elly said, re-dumping Ant’s things on the couch to fill her own sack with items from the woods. 

“No bugs, three rocks, and one jar of dirt if it’s in a container…” He anticipated Elly’s next question, “And two sticks.” 

Elly nodded seriously, “And three plants?” 

“Sure, kiddo, three plants.” He winced, "But nothing deadly!" 

Elly pouted.  

Up in the woods above Thirteen, Coriolanus leaned against a tree, watching run through the bushes, hands dirting as she dug around in the ground, calling her dad over with explosive excitement for every little fly, beetle, or centipede she found.

And, unsurprisingly, she found three snakes, which Coriolanus made her put back at once.

He never wanted this feeling, this idea of being so beloved by Elly, to end. 

That night, he insisted the family go to the Canteen for dinner, mostly to checkup on Beetee. Lucy Gray sighed at Elly’s dirt-smeared state, as Elly carefully arranged her spoils on her desk, re-ordering them obsessively until it was just right and seated amongst her other strange finds, but behind her daughter’s back, she grinned. 

At the Canteen, Beetee was smiling. He looked much less nervous. 

And Alma, dutiful to a tee, was sitting right next to him. But she didn’t seem absolutely annoyed to be doing so. She was telling a joke to him, enjoying herself. 

“What are you grinning about?” Lucy Gray asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. 

“Oh, nothing,” Coriolanus lied. 

He could move the wills of entire nations. Being a matchmaker ought to be laughably easy. 

Coriolanus anticipated the completion of his plot within three years with a marvelous wedding to match.

XXX

Coriolanus did turn out to be right.

Mostly.

Sort of.

He just, well, didn’t get the bride correct.

Three years later, after Beetee had very much carved himself into District 13’s tapestry, already providing his worth with technological marvels far beyond the expected ability of a young man, he came to Coriolanus’s office, just as nervous as that first day. 

“Mr. President Rose, I, uhm…” He still had a piece of wire in his fingers, twirling it. It twisted in his sweaty hands, and Coriolanus watched as he turned it this way and then that way in between his stuttered words, “I would like to inform you that I’ve proposed to someone.” 

Coriolanus let out a wide, elated smile.

He assumed, at this point, that his scheming had been fruitful. He was surprised Alma hadn’t given him a heads-up…she spoke with Coriolanus about many things, almost like they were friends. And, as the years passed, she sort of was. She was the only one, apart from Lucy Gray and Tigirs (and neither truly counted) that he could be utterly candid with. As they both grew older, the distance in age between them mattered less and less as Alma went through the same life experiences, no longer a too-eager teenager. 

Maybe Alma wanted to surprise him, he mused. 

“Of course, Beetee. I’m so pleased to see you settling in here, putting down roots.” 

He grinned, half-way embarrassed. Underneath it was a confidence Coriolanus rarely saw. He’d seen that look on Beetee a few times; whenever he introduced Coriolanus to a new invention. He was very sure of his skills, and rightfully so. He never stuttered when he was showing Coriolanus how something worked or pushing its usefulness, and was almost forceful. 

Well, good for Alma, Coriolanus decided. He wanted Beetee invested in her. She deserved that. Even if this match was manufactured, he did want a happy life for her. 

“Thank you, sir,” Beetee said, “We’re over the moon.” 

“Well, let me just grab a marriage certificate-,” 

“Oh, there’s no need. Alma’s already done so.” 

Coriolanus paused, his lip twitching with humor. Technically, Alma could also sign off on marriages. He wasn’t saying ‘no’ to most. He’d started this rule so he could be the first to know when his plans with Beetee happened, actually, but he figured a system of tracking was good either way. 

Still, Alma ought to know that she couldn’t sign off on her own license. That would seem like a misuse of power!

“I’ve come, I guess, as a standard courtesy.” He said, holding his head high. Just as Coriolanus was about to point out that he would need to sign off on Alma’s certificate, Beetee waved someone in from the hallway, someone waiting. 

Ant came in, and at first, Coriolanus was sure there was a mistake, or she was here coincidentally for some other reason. But when Beetee grasped her fingers, placing a kiss on her cheek and Ant blushed , Coriolanus realized he was sorely mistaken. 

His entire mind shut down. 

“You’re asking to marry…my daughter?” 

“Well, not so much asking,” Ant said firmly, “Mom’s already given us your permission.” 

He stared at Ant, uncomprehendingly, “What?” 

Ant sighed, rolling her eyes, “Mom was sure you’d blow a gasket. I mean, you’re taking this much better than I expected-,” 

“Beetee, please excuse us,” Coriolanus said sharply, cutting his daughter off, “Chantilly and I need to have a family talk.” 

“He’s family, Dad,” Ant responded snottily. 

“Yet to be seen.” 

“Oh, for the love of-,” Ant threw her hands up, “At least I didn’t come up here asking to marry Nick Leeg!” She crossed her arms, making a face. She would never say it in front of her best friend, Coriolanus knew, but Ant thought Nick was still an idiot. Something Coriolanus very much agreed with.

Small miracles, he supposed, but still, Coriolanus was…he was…he didn’t even know what he was, frankly! 

“It’s alright,” Beetee laughed, “I’ll find you tonight. Talk with your dad.” 

Ant leaned in as he pulled away, pouting, “Love you, Bee.” 

Beetee grinned, “You too, Ant.” 

Coriolanus felt like barfing.

He stomped back to his house, slamming the door open to find Lucy Gray painting a dress with careful brushstrokes. Ant was behind him, talking fast about a lot of things Coriolanus did not want to know about. 

Lucy Gray looked up, eyebrows raising as she saw the two of them. 

“Went well, I take it?” She asked. 

Coriolanus caught sight of of what she was painting on the dress; bees and ants . He’d seen her working on it, but he hadn’t…connected the dots. 

Nu was nervously in the kitchen, lingering. 

“Why is he here?” Coriolanus asked, “Don’t you have a job?” 

“Moral support,” Nu said with an uneasy smile, “Took the day off.” 

“You did say it was a family discussion, Dad.” Ant parrotated back, annoyingly. 

“How long have you known?” Coriolanus asked Lucy Gray, feeling betrayed. 

She shrugged, getting up to hug Ant. He’d always thought that Ant went to him when she needed something. Since when was she leaning on her mother instead? Was he being replaced? 

“Shrugging isn’t an answer…” Coriolanus sputtered, “Where…where has this even come from?” 

Nu came, setting tea on the table, sending his father a strange look, “It’s been like… so obvious , Dad. Ant’s been almost nice lately with Beetee around.” 

Ant hit his shoulder, “You’re supposed to be backing me up, Sejanus!” 

“I am,” Nu threw up his hands, “I mean, didn’t you notice when you were at the band concerts that Ant was just hovering around, making stupid lovey-dovey eyes at Beetee?” 

Coriolanus locked his jaw. No, of course, he hadn’t. He’d been trying to push Alma onto Beetee. 

“I did not, that’s dramatic,” Ant said, stiffening, “He fell for me first.” 

Nu sickered, “Alright.” 

“How long has this been going on?” Coriolanus asked again, sourly. 

“Whatever I say is going to make you upset,” Ant said, wincing, “If I saw a low number, you’d be furious at me, saying that I can’t possibly know what I want - no matter that you and Mom got married way younger-,” 

He and Lucy Gray exchanged looks. It had never been discussed as a family the real reason they were married. He was sure his children had some semblance, at this point, that he was not actually Oleander Rose and she was not Lin, but the exactness of what they knew was…fuzzy. 

“-And if I say basically forever, you’ll be angry at yourself that you didn’t see it.” 

“I’d still like to know,” Coriolanus said, trying to let his anger slither away. This was his daughter, his first-born. For all the times he stewed about how much he’d hated his father, was this not starting down the exact same path? 

“Since that first day,” Ant said quietly, “In some form. I suppose it took us a good seven months of dancing around each other for something to happen.” Ant leaned back to look at her mother, “Mom says when you know, you just…know. Same she felt about you. And I do ‘just know’.” 

Coriolanus inhaled, “Does he treat you well?” 

“Of course,” Ant said, leaning across and pulling her dad into a hug. But Coriolanus already knew that. Beetee was respectful, clever, empathetic, and everything a father should want for his daughter. He just wished he wasn’t the last one to know. 

He wasn’t…on board, but, well, he was starting to think he could come around to the idea of it, with a bit of time. Hopefully, Ant would be agreeable to a long engagement. 

Also, he’d have to have a firm talk with Alma…and Lucy Gray…and Nu…

Coriolanus didn’t like not knowing things. Especially things about his family. 

Their front door unlocked, Elly returned from school. At fifteen she still looked so much like a child instead of an adult, and especially with this revelation, Coriolanus wanted her to stay young forever. Her hair, growing darker and darker each year to look more like Lucy Gray, was pulled in an intangible mess of curls hastily thrown into a ponytail. She looked at her siblings, blinking, “Did I forget we had family dinner?” 

“Ant’s engaged!” Nu said, unable to keep a good thing a secret, “To Beetee!” 

Just as Coriolanus was about to argue that, no, she wasn’t, not until he agreed (and, he just needed a few days, that’s all), Elly’s bookbag dropped to the floor with an echoing clatter. Lucy Gray was standing, sensing something was off, but no one was quick enough as Elly threw herself at her older sister with a feral scream. 

“You bitch! How could you!” She cried, clawing and screaming. 

“Oh my god, what are you doing?” Ant said, battering away her nails from her face, “Stop it, El!” 

“I. Liked. Him. First!” Elly wailed, a whirlwind of limbs thrashing. 

“Elysia Indigo!” Lucy Gray thundered, but it took both Nu and Coriolanus grasping Elly and yanking her back. Ant stared at her younger sister with unbridled fury, a long gash down her cheek. 

“Oh, be for real!” Ant spat, “You’re my baby sister. Of course, he’d never go for you .” 

“Chantilly-,” Coriolanus groaned, trying to settle Elly. 

“What?” Ant turned, her face pinched, “I’m the one who was…assaulted, Dad!” 

“She…takes…everything,” Elly was crying so hard that she was gasping her words out through tears, “Just because she can! I can’t have anything in this house!” 

“Oh, honey,” Lucy Gray said, extracting Elly from their grips, pulling her underneath her chin, “Shh…darlin’, heartbreak sure stings…” 

“She actually loves him, El,” Nu said quietly, “I know, shocking right?” Even though he was trying to keep the peace with a joke, as always, Elly looked at him with such a look of betrayal, something deeper than how Coriolanus felt. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one shocked by this news. It didn’t make him feel better, though, that Elly was just as blindsided. He didn’t ever want her to feel such pain, such heartache. Not just of not knowing that your sister was marrying your first crush, but that she was left out…that no one thought to tell her. 

“You knew?” Elly asked, looking at Nu. There was no anger in her voice, just…hurt, “I thought…” She swallowed, still half-hiccuping, unable to keep herself steady, “I thought you were on my side.” 

“It’s not about sides,” Nu said, wincing hard. 

Elly wiped her cheeks, detaching herself from her mother’s embrace. She didn’t even look at Ant or Nu as she dragged herself into her bedroom. There was silence for a moment, until Ant went to the mirror in the living room, pulling Lucy Gray to her side, worrying that this would leave a scar. Nu wrapped his arms around himself, staring at the ground. 

Coriolanus was spurred to movement. He quickly took two steps to Elly’s room. She was curled up on her bed, staring at the wall. 

“Can I-,” 

“I’d rather be alone, Dad,” Elly whispered, all tears dried from her face.

Coriolanus lingered.

He wasn’t sure if he should let her be or insist on sitting with her. 

In the end, quietly, he left her. 

Later, that night, as she and Lucy Gray got ready for bed, Lucy Gray leaned across their mattress, “What’s on your mind, lover?” 

“I can’t have a married daughter,” Coriolanus muttered, shaking his head, “I’m only 47.” 

“Only?” Lucy Gray raised an eyebrow, “That seems quite an appropriate age.” 

“I’m young at heart,” Coriolanus replied with a roll of his eyes. 

“Well, at least you’re not also becoming a grandfather right now. Maybe at 50.” 

Coriolanus stopped dead in his tracks, eyes widening, “Grandfather?” He choked. 

“Well, what do you think married couples do?” Lucy Gray asked with a laugh, “I know you’re not on board, but well…I’m ready for a little baby to dote on again.” 

Coriolanus shook his head frantically. Lucy Gray smirked at his expression. 

“If it does happen, you’ll have nine months to get ready.” 

“I just…” Coriolanus swallowed, “I don’t get it.” 

Lucy Gray pulled back the covers, “I know you know how this works.” 

“No,” He rubbed his eyes, “Not… that .” He winced hard, “What is her ploy?” 

Lucy Gray blinked at him, her eyes owlish in her confusion, “Ploy?” 

“Is it to get a better room, because married couples get premier picks? I know she hates her dorm-,” 

“She loves him, Coryo,” Lucy Gray said slowly, staring at Coriolanus like she couldn’t quite believe him. 

“Does she even know how to love?” 

Lucy Gray hissed in, “How could you ask that?” 

“I’m not…” Coriolanus swallowed hard, “I’m not being mean, I’m being serious. Ant is…” He stared at Lucy Gray, “ Me . Like someone copied me exactly, just into a girl. So I just want to know if she…” 

He trailed off, feeling angry. 

“As much as she’s you, she is me too…” Lucy Gray tilted her head, “But between you and me, I think you’re a bigger romantic than you want to admit. You’re quite good at big gestures, you know.” 

Because I don’t know how to tell you with words that I love you. 

Coriolanus drew in a breath, forcing a grin that felt…fake. “Can’t have Thirteen thinking that their president doesn’t dote upon his wife.” 

He couldn’t even say it, in a joke. 

That he doesn't love his wife…that he doesn't worship the ground she walks on…that he wouldn’t do anything for her. 

Lucy Gray kissed his cheek, “I know this is sudden for you, but I would never let our daughter marry someone unworthy. Beetee will treat her well.” 

“I know,” Coriolanus said, feeling his fight drain away, “Did you know about how Elly felt?” 

“No,” Lucy Gray shook her head, “That girl keeps things tight to her chest. I’m worried about it.” 

Coriolanus swallowed.

“Me too.” 

However, when Elly came out of her room two days later, she had nothing but a smile on her face. She apologized to Ant. 

“I was just being a little dramatic. You’re right, I don’t want to date him anyway.” 

“Are you sure?” Ant asked, hesitantly, like she was sure Elly was going to leap at her again, “You seemed really upset.” 

“It was just a stupid puppy-dog crush. He’s just always been so nice to me,” Elly said, “I’m really happy for you.” 

In the corner, Coriolanus knit his eyebrows, “Do we believe this?” He asked Lucy Gray. 

“If she’s lyin…” Lucy Gray shrugged, “We’ll never know. We’ll just have to keep an especially close eye on her.” 

So they did. Lucy Gray and Coriolanus and Tigris and even Alma, who Coriolanus encouraged to draw Elly into the things she could do, just to keep his youngest daughter busy and with the hopes if she was upset still, she may confide in her old babysitter. 

But, Elly would never show another hint of jealousy or anger as it led up to the wedding.

And everyone let their guard down.

XXX

Beetee and Ant immediately announced the news.

After that, they were downright insufferable. 

One such day, when they were at a Jam Session, Coriolanus spotted them with their fingers intertwined underneath the table.

He scowled, slumping.

He was still coming to terms with it all. It just seemed a little fast to be so publically together, in his opinion. 

"What's that face for?" Lucy Gray leaned in, "You look like you just ate a lemon, darlin'." 

"Oh, look at that," He nodded toward Beetee and Ant's table, "They're holding hands." 

"And?" 

"I want him dead," Coriolanus said dryly.

Lucy Gray swatted him. 

"Big baby, no you don't." 

"Sure I do," He shot back, just to be contrary. 

But secretly, of course not. Just was just glad someone was going to take care of Ant in the same way Lucy Gray had looked after him for all these years.

XXX

Two weeks before the wedding, Coriolanus got an emergency ping from Arius. 

Unsure what could be such a concern, what with Tigris being here now and Gaul dead, Coriolanus tracked upstairs, frustrated. He had a lot on his plate! Of course, the first daughter of the president was owed the most fantastical wedding Thirteen had ever seen; he had so much to do it was insane! 

As he came upon the clearing he’d spent so many cold nights, waiting for Arius, waiting for children or supplies or passing off poisons, there was someone standing there that he didn’t recognize. 

“Who are you?” Coriolanus asked sharply, fingers tensing on his weapon, ready to shoot. 

“I know it’s been said I favor my mother more, but c’mon, you don’t see the family resemblance?” The figure was tall, but a little stout, with red eyebrows but dyed blond hair. 

Coriolanus kept his fingers on the gun, but hazarded a guess, “Plutarch?” 

He’d never thought to ask who Arius had married (didn’t see the point) but did remember a red-headed girl two years their senior, someone, he could see the same features in this man. But he was still Arius; it was in his eyes. 

“President Snow.” 

“It’s Rose,” Coriolanus said, instinctively. 

“Right,” Plutarch nodded. He seemed almost nervous, “I, uhm, just wanted to introduce myself…” 

“I know who you are.” 

Arius never shut up about him. 

“Sure, but, professionally…” He exhaled hard, tears gathering in his eyes. Coriolanus watched him blink fast, “My dad, he’s-,” 

“Dead.” 

Coriolanus guessed it before Plutarch could say it. 

Plutarch gave a long, tired, nod. It couldn’t have been that long ago; he had seen Arius alive and well a month ago. Plus, the agony still clung to his son, cloaked in sorrow. 

Coriolanus sat down, motioning for Plutarch to sit, “How did he go?” 

“Officially, morpling overdose. Accidental.” 

Coriolanus raised an eyebrow, getting a bitterness from Plutarch, “And unofficially?” 

Plutarch, though by Coriolanus’s math was twenty-three and very much a man, seemed so much like a young lost child. 

Twenty-three was still very young to lose a parent. 

“I knew he used morphling…everyone in the Capitol does,” Plutarch whispered, “But I’m not sure I buy it. I don’t have evidence. Just a revolution beneath his hands.” 

“He made many enemies,” Coriolanus said, his best effort for comfort, “And that’s something commendable.” 

Plutarch rubbed his eyes, “Sure, right.” 

“I assume you’re here because you were on his side,” Coriolanus said evenly, but kept his eyes flickering to the tree line, “And not to arrest me.” 

Plutarch gave a heavy laugh, “My parents both believe in it. And I’ve been raised on stories of all of this. Of course, I’m taking over his work.” 

“Good.” Coriolanus gave a mischievous smile, “Now, what have you been told about me, son?” 

Plutarch looked at Coriolanus, biting the inside of his cheeks, “That you don’t really morals that anyone ought to aspire to,” He said dryly, “We give you kids and supplies and victors, you give us poison and - one day - nuclear help to end Panem.” 

“Well, no beating around the bush, I suppose,” Coriolanus muttered, though Plutarch wasn’t wrong . 

“Actually, that’s what I’ve gleaned from your files. What I was told by my dad,” Plutarch corrected, staring at Coriolanus with mild surprise, as though he was still trying to riddle him out, “Is that I should believe you, but never trust anything you say.” 

Coriolanus gave a laugh, something genuine and surprised and somewhere deep down a bit pained because he’d come to like Arius sometimes, and it was shitty to have to say goodbye to someone that could have been a friend. 

And laughing hurt, but he couldn’t stop. 

“Well, your dear old dad is right,” Coriolanus finally managed to say, grinning. 

Arius knew him far too well. 

“I also was told that my dad believed that you married that Victor that vanished all those years ago, Lucy Gray Baird. But you never told him who you married.” Plutarch added, looking at Coriolanus with such curiosity.

And, because Coriolanus knew that it would annoy Arius beyond the grave, he grinned, “Yes, I did marry her. And we’re very happy together.” 

Plutarch narrowed his eyes, “Is that a lie that I shouldn’t believe? Is this a test? Are you going to tell me that I just confirmed you always lie?” 

Coriolanus clapped his shoulder, “You’ll get one absolute truth from me, on the house. Sorry to hear about Arius.” 

And though he wasn’t sure if Plutarch would believe him, he was being honest about that too.

XXX

Time marched on.

Chantilly married Beetee eight months after their engagement announcement, and by the time it came around, Coriolanus was fully on board. 

Lucy Gray continued to watch the Hunger Games, and the next year - year 39 - she saved Wonder Spicer from blowing his brains out, after having to kill his district partner. 

Beetee thrived in Thirteen, especially with a wife to come home to. From a force field to resistance tech to a way to wonders that Coriolanus couldn’t even have dreamed of, he was by far their best smuggled asset. 

Alma, almost to add insult to injury, came to ask Coriolanus to sign off on her own engagement just months after Ant and Beetee’s wedding. 

It was to, basically, a nobody. Just some random, unimportant citizen that Coriolanus didn’t even acknowledge as existing prior to this. 

This aggravated Coriolanus to no end, enough to almost say no. 

But he had no good reason, other than it didn’t fit his needs. So, though he didn’t think it was the right move at all, he agreed. 

“I’m not sure I want to change my last name,” Alma said to him as he scribbled a signature, “I’ve achieved so much as ‘Coin’, and it holds a legacy with my father.” 

Absolutely true. She was the one with the last name that held far more weight. Her future husband’s last name was something stupid anyway. 

“Then don’t,” Coriolanus shrugged. 

“It’s not…” She pressed her lips, “People don’t do that.” 

“Well,” Coriolanus gave a chuckle, “Be the first. Start a trend. I don’t care either way.” 

But, secretly, he was glad that some things about her weren’t going to change.

And her husband was such a pushover he didn’t even argue it. 

Alma Coin stayed Alma Coin.

Time marched on. 

XXX

When Ant announced her pregnancy, Elly hugged her so hard that she had to be detached once again, crying tears of joy. 

Ant promised her she’d be the godmother, of course . She would be the best Auntie El ever. 

Their relationship was mended.

She was eighteen and Alma had hired her out as her secretary. She’d moved into a dorm, though Lucy Gray had tried to keep her here. 

But that’s what they wanted of their children, right? That they all became productive, independent members of society? 

There were days Coriolanus didn’t see Elly at all these days, so busy with Alma keeping everything running. He’d always imagined Ant would be the one in his image, but now, Coriolanus could see a future where maybe he gave up his presidency for Elly.

President Elysia Rose. 

That was a future Coriolanus thought he could live with. 

She wasn’t as suave as Coriolanus was, but she had his peculiarities, the ones that made him a ruthless yet effective leader. Plus, she was already tending to his deadly garden, almost better at recognizing a deadly plant than Coriolanus was. 

She was the perfect mix of both he and Lucy Gray. He now recognized that she wasn’t the absence of either of them but the proof that they strangely did work as a couple, proven in their best and worst parts of each other reflected in her. 

Time rolled around to the 41st Hunger Games. Lucy Gray never watched the reapings. Folks didn’t show well at that moment; always shocked, always horrified. It was better to view them for the first time at the chariots, when they’d gotten time to let it sink in. By then, the strong contenders showed themselves. Not the ones who would win, but those that were worth watching for their needs. 

The ones that weren’t crying, but the ones that were angry.

Coriolanus knew that this time, though, was always difficult for her, so he was sitting with her in his office, her head burrowed into his shoulder. 

“It has to end soon, Coryo.” She was tired. Not just in age, Coriolanus could see how each year of this dragged her down more and more. 

He wanted to console her, but to say it would was a lie. He and Plutarch had been deep in the discussion of it, and it simply wasn’t time. Not for some overarching asshole reason, such as that he was benefiting from how things were (he was) but Panem had to be ready for a revolution.

The truth of it was they just… weren’t . 

And Thirteen wasn’t either, their nuclear storages not nearly what it was before their bombing, still decades behind being able to protect not only themselves but get into a war with the Capitol. 

He couldn’t say much of anything, just let her exist with him. 

The door slammed open. 

“Oleander, I really need to talk to you-,” 

“Alma, haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” He asked snappishly, “And for that matter, what does a locked door mean to you?” 

Alma was shoving her key into her pocket. 

“I wouldn’t be bursting in here if it wasn’t really important, you know that, but I-,” 

Before she could finish her frazzled sentence, someone else squealed through the door. 

“Plutarch?” Coriolanus was up now, furious, pacing around, “Get the hell out of here, son.” 

This was their agreement. He stayed up there, Coriolanus stayed down here. Plutarch was not to be seen in Thirteen. It would break the universe, or something like that. 

“Oh, I found you,” Plutarch was clutching his chest, eyes wild and panicked. 

“Your doing?” Coriolanus asked, spinning on Alma, spitting mad, “You’re a bit late to warn me, Coin.” 

“No! I don’t know why he’s down here-,” Alma stuttered, and she seemed genuinely just as surprised to see him as well, “No, it’s a matter I need to talk to you about, of greatest importance-,” 

“Me first,” Plutarch said, going as far as to come and grasp Coriolanus’s hand, meeting Lucy Gray’s eyes, “You too, ma’am.” 

Something about the way he spoke sent a shiver down Coriolanus’s spine.

Ant, heavily pregant, was sitting outside. Coriolanus gave her a look, but she was biting her lip, eyes focused on Plutarch. 

“So you two know each other?”

“Not well, no,” Plutarch said, “But she brought me here. And before you ask, she has no idea what’s going on.” 

“But if he’s here, it’s not good…right?” Ant’s blue eyes, as stunning as sapphires, were wide and concerned. 

Terrors flashed through Coriolanus’s mind. That Panem had snapped, killing all of its citizens in one blow. That the revolution had begun without them. That the Capitol was marching for Thirteen and they were hours away from destruction. That a virus so deadly was swimming through the world outside that Plutarch was here to beg for safety. 

All sorts of frightening things. 

Plutarch began running, still tugging Coriolanus and Lucy Gray behind him like they were dolls tied to string. Alma paced with them, “Sir, I really think-,” 

“In a moment, Alma,” Coriolanus growled. When it rained, it poured. 

Plutarch brought them to the remote viewing room for the Hunger Games. Coriolanus and Lucy Gray shared confused looks at the insistence of Plutarch shoving them inside. 

Alma, Ant, Nu, and Beetee swarmed inside, though Coriolanus would have preferred they didn’t. But he was too torn between worry and trying to fix the issue he didn’t know he was having and it was too much and -

Plutarch was frantically turning on the TV, flipping and pressing fast-forward through the reapings. 

“Sir, please , I can’t find Elly!” 

Coriolanus turned to Alma, who was staring and breathing hard at her outburst. The buzz of the video in the background grew dimmer. 

“What?” Lucy Gray asked, shaking her head, confused. 

“She was on assignment for me, but she said she was taking time off to be with you. She knew how difficult this time of year was for you,” Alma said, nodding to Lucy Gray, “But Ant and Nu and none of her friends have seen her.” 

“She told us she was on an assignment where we may not see her for a while, what with the Reapings,” Ant interjected, “Lying, though to what end?” 

“She was supposed to come over for breakfast today. We were going to tell her the baby’s name,” Beetee sat in the corner, frowning deeply, “I can’t imagine what has happened, but I have a bad feeling.” 

“Something’s not adding up,” Nu was picking at his fingers so much that they were bleeding. 

“She’s just gone! I don’t know for how long, at least two days but I can’t find her.” Alma exhaled hard, shaking. 

At eighteen Elly was not quite a child, but surely not really an adult. Much too young to be unaccounted for. Thirteen wasn’t even that big, how could anyone possibly lose the daughter of the president? 

Just as Coriolanus was starting to formulate a truly terrifying chasticing of Alma for misplacing his youngest daughter when she was meant to be under her care, Plutarch stopped the video feed.

“That’s just it…I found her.” Plutarch’s voice was hoarse, terrified. 

Coriolanus spun around just in time to see some mindless Capitol drone pull a name from that big glass bowl, unmistakably in the background of District 12. 

“-and our female tribute…” There was absolute silence as she unfurled the page, “Elysia Baird!” 

And then, Coriolanus’s daughter - her dark hair ratty and tangled, confusion and tears wet on her face - was shoved up onto the stage. 

The silence felt like death, pressing down on his chest, so hard that he was sure his ribs would crack, and then…

…Lucy Gray howled. 

Chapter Text

The first person to move was Ant, leaping forward so swiftly that for a second, Coriolanus wasn’t sure what was happening. She slapped Plutarch across the face, leaving a raw hand mark on his pale skin as he stared at her, lips ajar - not quite with shock or indignation, just with a sense of hurt. 

As she was rounding her hand back, nails pointed toward his skin like a feral cat swiping, Nu and Beetee grasped her arms, yanking her back. 

“What the hell, Ant?” Nu said, fighting against her struggling figure. 

“Explain yourself!” Ant was nearly spitting in fury, struggling to get to Plutarch, “Explain, you coward!” 

“Why do you think he has something to do with this?” Lucy Gray asked, her voice raw and abused, her screams had died into faint, voiceless whispers. She turned toward Plutarch, face contorted in unimaginable rage, unsure where to place her anger.

“Just look at him,” Ant narrowed her eyes, shaking off her brother and husband’s grips, “He’s guilty.” 

Coriolanus turned, crossing his arms, reading Plutarch’s face. It was faint, but there was something hidden there…guilt. He scolded himself for not picking up on it, but mentally praised his daughter for being so observant. 

“I…” Plutarch swallowed, rubbing his neck as though he was feeling the tightening of a noose. A red rash was spreading up his skin, something that painted him as unviable guilty. Or, at the very least, he knew more than he was letting on. 

“What was your plan?” Ant continued, coming nose-to-nose with him, “Take a girl no more than a child, fill her head with stories, and send her off to be slaughtered? What do you get out of this, you backstabbing fucker?” 

“I would never!” Plutarch shoved her, seeming all his young years at that moment, no more than a child, furious and foolish. 

“Explain,” Coriolanus commanded sternly, taking a step in front of the door, “Now, Heavnsbee.” 

“I didn’t know she’d do…this,” Plutarch hissed furiously, “She tricked me ! She sought me out…I thought she liked me…” The hurt was written all over his face. Coriolanus had seen it on other people, when he’d used and dumped girls for his own gain, stringing them on until they’d given him what they wanted. He hadn’t thought Elly had such a cruelness to do that, always assuming Ant was the most likely, but Elly was nothing if not a perfect blend of both her parents.

“You’re saying a lot of words that don’t amount to anything,” Lucy Gray hissed, taking Ant into her arms, glaring at the interloper, “So get to the point.” Her voice was hard, chipped on the edges. 

“I didn’t think she’d do something like this !” Plutarch finally exploded through his confusion and pain, fingers tensing like he wanted to throw a punch at something, “It was innocent. It was basically nothing.”

“You-,” 

“Give me…give me a second to get my bearings,” Plutarch asked, holding up a hand. 

“She…she doesn’t have a second,” Lucy Gray snarled, jabbing her finger towards the TV, “So be quick.” 

“We were just talking! I didn’t tell her anything about the games, I’m not stupid, but you gotta know…your kids know,” Plutarch said, “But I wasn’t going to rain on her parade. It’s not my place. She just wanted to know about her lineage.” 

Snow frowned, eyebrows crinkling, “Her…lineage?” 

“Not yours,” Plutarch said, looking past him, “Hers.” 

Lucy Gray sucked in, a sharp breath, “The Covey?” 

Plutarch nodded firmly, “She knew a lot. Whatever you think you hid from her, she knew it all,” He said with a tired smile, “She’s clever, but you already know that. Perceptive. But alone. So alone…” He swallowed hard, “I think she just wanted to feel at home somewhere.” 

“She is home here,” Nu whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“Not in the ways that mattered,” Plutarch rubbed his arms, uneasy, “She felt different. She thought that maybe if she found others like her she might…I tried to talk her out of it, I fucking swear, I did! She told me she was dropping the idea, promise…” He licked his lips, laughing, “I should have known, I should have known! I’d been watching her lie so effortlessly to all of you for the past few years, saying she’s okay with everything, that I should have realized I was being played a fool too.” 

“Is this my fault?” Ant asked, horrified, “Me and Beetee?” 

“Not entirely, but not nothing,” Plutarch said bluntly. 

“She was a…child,” Beetee swiveled his head, confused, “She couldn’t possibly think…” 

“The ax forgets, but the tree remembers,” Plutarch said quietly. 

“Oh, fuck that,” Ant wiped away tears.

“Why wouldn’t you say anything?” Coriolanus finally found his voice, furious. He always knew that Arius would stab him in the back someday, but apparently, his plans were the long game past the grave.

That fucker.

Oh, Plutarch was dead . 

“Because I didn’t know what she was capable of doing! I thought she was going to make a scene at the wedding or ignore the baby for a while or…or…” He grasped his roots, screwing his eyes shut, “I forgot. I almost forgot she’s a Snow,” He opened one eye, “And I forgot what my father told me about your likes.” 

There was anger and a sense of betrayal, but beneath it was just…hurt. The feeling of someone taking your kindness, your heart, and stomping all over it.

Coriolanus couldn’t deal with this, with Plutarch’s fragile feelings. 

Lucy Gray spun on her heels, shoving out of the meeting room.

“Watch him,” Coriolanus snarled to Alma and followed his wife.

Lucy Gray took a brisk pace, nearly running, through the halls. Any attempts of Coriolanus to talk to her resulted in a sharp angry sound, punctuated with a shaking finger. He didn’t manage to get any word in until she threw the door open to their apartment, angrily grasping a menagerie of things and shoving it in a bag.

“What are you doing?” 

“What the hell does it look like?” Lucy Gray yelled, “I’m getting my baby back! And you are not going to stop me, and if you try to-,” Tears streamed down her cheeks, her face red and blotchy, “I will gut you, Coriolanus!” 

“I misspoke,” Coriolanus said in a low, even tone, “What are you doing prepping without me?” 

Lucy Gray paused, frowning at him, confusion causing the fury to slip right off her face, “Without you?” She echoed. 

“Of course,” Coriolanus grasped his jacket from the hook, methodically moving around the space and placing things on the kitchen table with a measured carefulness, “You think I’m going to sit back and let you go save her without me?” 

“But…but you can’t go.” 

Coriolanus took a long breath. If he stopped moving, he’d start crying. He could feel his worry ebbing underneath the surface, threatening to break through, reducing him to a sad, pathetic, sniveling mess that couldn’t manage to do anything at all. 

He couldn’t allow that. 

“Why can’t I?” 

“You’re the President of District 13. The head of the revolution.” 

“And it’s for fuck-all if you die, or if Elly has to go through with this,” Coriolanus said firmly, “I don’t care about Thirteen. You are what I care about. Elysia is what I care about.” He placed his quivering hands on her cheeks, “Alma is well equipped to take over if something is to happen, and Tigris is soft-hearted enough to be an adequate enough stand-in with Plutarch…if he survives the night,” He growled.

“And what if something happens to both of us? What if you leave our other two children orphans?” 

He thought of his own parents, a mother who wasted away after birthing a daughter who never saw the light of day and a father driven by greed to his own demise. 

“Then at least they’ll know how much we love all of them,” Coriolanus said quietly. 

Lucy Gray looked almost ready to argue, but at the last second, she nodded firmly.

“I want to leave right now.” 

“Of course,” Coriolanus agreed. 

While Lucy Gray continued packing, Coriolanus flickered the light on in Elly’s old bedroom. She’d left some things on her desk, like her collection of rocks, all lined up specifically, collecting dust. Coriolanus grabbed the one nearest to him, holding it in his palm until the sharp edges broke the skin, focusing on something, anything else, other than the feeling of wanting to see someone inside out right now, watch the way their blood painted the walls of this bedroom, and hear Plutarch scream for mercy…

But Plutarch was the one strongest Panem connection they had.

If they were going to save Elly, it was necessary to keep him around…for now. He may need to broker an agreement or two.

Plutarch had done one smart thing and anticipated the need for a jet, awaiting their departure. 

“Get her back, Momma,” Nu cried, and Lucy Gray held him tight like he was a child again. Ant had long dried her tears and was standing on the edge of District 13, face contorted in rolling rage as she stared at Plutarch. 

Nu hugged his father, with an unexpected motion, “Good luck, Dad.” 

Coriolanus almost collapsed into his embrace, but at the last second, he pulled away. 

Once in the jet, both of them stiff and rigid, Plutarch turned around, “I can take you both to the edge of District 12. After that…” He pressed his lips together, “If you can get her back out and to the boundary line, we can get away before you can even say ‘Bread’.” 

Lucy Gray sent him a look so dangerous, so sharp that his half-laugh died on his lips. 

Coriolanus felt ungodly nervous.

It had been so many years since he’d stepped foot back in District 12. Thirty-one years, to be precise. He’d left so many things in that godforsaken coal-driven hellscape that he never wanted to revisit; the Covey, Sejanus dead in an unmarked grave, guns used to bleed a man out…

But he wondered if Lucy Gray was looking forward to it. 

As he tilted his head, watching her, she leaned forward, “Coriolanus.” 

Her voice was clear and sharp, like the first snowfall. 

He raised an eyebrow. 

“I need you…” She swallowed hard, leg twitching as her fingernails scratched against her skin, “I need you to be the man you were all those years ago before we crossed over to Thirteen. Brutal, unforgiving, and monstrous. Let him out again. For me.” 

Coriolanus was tempted to argue, possibly to say that that side of him never left or to claim he never had that side at all. But both sides of that argument were useless to pretend otherwise.

Instead, Coriolanus met her gaze and nodded.

“Good. And whatever happens…Elly is more important than me. Promise me, Coriolanus. Swear it. If it’s me or her, save her.” 

Coriolanus opened his mouth, unsure he could make such a statement. But as he stared at Lucy Gray and imagined Elly perishing instead, something so terrible rose up inside of him, something 

She relaxed back, eased by his promise. 

It took so little time to get to the edge of Twelve, compared to how long they’d spent trekking over those woods in the first place. But there wasn’t a moment of peace, not a second of rest.

“You don’t have much time,” Plutarch said, his voice taking on a weird tinge of sadness, “They’re giving tributes time to meet with their family before heading out the next morning. Just a few hours, then she’ll be in the Capitol and it will be much harder to extract her.” 

Yeah, we know. 

Okay, so he didn’t know the newest changes, but he did know that if they lost her in the Capitol, it would be nearly impossible, not without making it a suicide mission.

If that was how it was going to go…Coriolanus dreamed of all the people he’d tear the spines out of in retribution, however, before they managed to take him down.

He hadn’t gotten his hands dirty in quite some time. It would almost feel like a relief. 

Lucy Gray grabbed their bags. Luckily, night had already fallen, making their trek so much easier. They’d done it the first time in just a few hours, but they were younger. Then again, they didn’t have the franticness snapping at their heels as they did now, so perhaps they’d return to District 12’s only town in record time.

“We should find the Covey,” Lucy Gray said, decisively, “She used the last name Baird. They might know more.” 

“Yes,” Coriolanus agreed, eyebrows knitting. Short of blasting through the doors of the Peacekeeper station, he didn’t really know what to do at all, so it seemed as good a plan as any. 

“Good lu-,” Plutarch began, but stopped himself short, “Just tell her…” He seemed about ready to fall into tears again, “Just…” He trailed off, no words to be said, nothing to make up for what was happening. 

Lucy Gray and Coriolanus took their packs, setting off in the direction of the old lake-house, where what felt like a hundred years ago, Coriolanus had hidden some guns. 

Despite having no real reason to think anyone would be there, it was devoid of life. Untouched, still, a miracle, despite Coriolanus knowing that no guns remained there.

Shame, they could use some of ‘em right now. 

They were halfway between the main hub of 12 and the cabins when someone came clambering out of the woods, yelling in fury, a knife coming straight for them. Coriolanus managed to grab the assailant’s wrist, a poor attempt at murder, disarming the ratty person with ease. 

“Die, Capitol scum!” 

The voice was familiar. Coriolanus frowned, turning the person toward Lucy Gray, who gasped. 

“Tam Amber?” She said, taking a step forward to press her hands against his sunken cheeks, pressing her forehead against his. 

“Lucy Gray…?” He echoed, confused, “Ain’t you dead?” 

“Only in stories, darlin,” Lucy Gray whispered, looking at him with such tenderness, such longing for her old family, “Where’s everyone else?” She spun in a circle, as though expecting her loved ones to come crawling out of the woods, crying but jubilant. 

“Gone,” He whispered, eyes wide, looking haggard and exhausted. He was only a few years older than Lucy Gray had been, but time out here had not been kind, and he looked near ancient like he was going to collapse into the dust with just a whisper of the wind. 

Lucy Gray went rigid, “Gone?” She asked, confused, “In what way?” 

“Well…let’s see… Barb Azure took a bullet to the head not long after you went missin’. Riled up peacekeepers. Guess they didn’t like her song or somethin’. Ole Billy Taupe ain’t been seen since your games.” 

Lucy Gray stood, tears working their way out of her eyes as she stood, stubbornly, refusing to cry. Her lip quivered. Though he doubted she was mourning Billy, of course, to lose Barb must be devastating. 

“What about little Maude Ivory? And Clerk Carmine?” Lucy Gray asked. 

“Awe, well she ain’t so little anymore, and nor is Clerk,” Tam Amber chuckled, “She was livin’ out here, actually, until about two days ago…” He motioned toward the hut, “They came for ‘er. She gave me this knife and told me to hide. Told me she’d be back. She ain’t yet.” He scratched behind his ear, “Anyone Covey, well, they’ve been killin’ us, best they can.” 

“They? Peacekeepers? The Capitol?” Lucy Gray asked. 

“One and the same, mmh?” Tam Amber’s shoulder slumped. 

“Do we think Elly was with her?” Coriolanus asked quietly. And if so, was it on purpose, Plutarch screwing them over, or incredibly bad luck? 

Tam Amber startled, picking his knife back up, eyes narrowing, “Who the hell is this?” 

“My husband,” Lucy Gray said, standing between the two, as though Coriolanus couldn’t dispatch a half-starved crazy old man. 

Tam Amber harrumphed, but let his knife down. 

“Where would they be? Maude Ivory?” Lucy Gray asked. 

“The Seam, I’d guess.” Tam Amber shivered, “I’m not going back there.” 

“No, no, you don’t have to…” Lucy Gray pulled him into a long hug, “It’s so good to see you, old friend.” 

“You’ll come back…won’t you?” Tam Amber asked, sounding like a toddler who had lost their mother in the woods, “I don’t think I’d like being alone.” 

“Yes, of course,” Lucy Gray said, and Coriolanus couldn’t tell if she was lying or believed it.

“All…alright…” Tam Amber hobbled toward the house, “I think I’ll just wait here, then. With my knife.” 

Lucy Gray exhaled, as though realizing how old he’d gotten, “Sounds like a very good plan.” 

They let Tam Amber slip away and then continued down the path. 

“Do you think-,” Coriolanus began, but Lucy Gray stopped him.

“I don’t know what to think of anything right now, so I’d rather you not ask,” She said firmly, furiously. 

They found where Maude Ivory was easy enough. It was a creaky thing, and though none of the Seam looked particularly held up well, it looked like just a little bit of rain would knock it right over. The thing that keyed them in was the colorful array of clothes on the line outside, something starkly colorful against the dull colorlessness of the remaining houses. 

Lucy Gray strode up, before Coriolanus could stop her, and knocked firmly on the door. 

A woman answered, someone who looked tired and dragged through mud and dirt, her curly hair pulled into a messy bun. The lights were still on, despite the late hour, and it took Coriolanus a moment, and Lucy Gray too. 

Maude Ivory, now old and nearly gray and pushing 50, gave a sad smile. 

“I’ve been expecting you two.” 

She pulled them both inside to the saddest little hut that Coriolanus had ever seen in his whole life, something oozing with disease and lung problems. A little fire was going, and Maude Ivory crouched to tend to it, with a pot of something bubbling above it. A man and a boy, both lanky and lean, sat at a table, both looking nervous. The boy was at that odd age between a child and a teenager, but the lack of food was doing no favors to his growth. 

“Maude Ivory, you’ve grown up.” 

“Well, you have a few more wrinkles than I recall,” She said, almost impishly, “Clerk Carmine, can you see if we have another set of bowls?” 

“Oh, we couldn’t,” Lucy Gray’s eyes widened, “You need it.” 

“Obviously,” Coriolanus muttered under his breath. 

“Well, we’d be poor hosts to not offer and insist,” Maude Ivory said, blinking owlishly at him, “We might be starvin’, but we haven’t lost our minds or manners! Anything they can take from us-,” 

“Ain’t worth keeping,” Lucy Gray finished, placing a hand over her heart. 

“Look, as much as I appreciate this touching reunion,” Coriolanus said, refusing to stand, “We are short on time. Our daughter -,” 

“Elly, yes, strange thing,” Maude Ivory said with a curled smile, as though to be strange was the most marvelous thing in the world, “Found us two days ago. I tried to send her back, but she’s stubborn. I knew it was close to the Reapin’, didn’t want her sticking around.” 

“And…?” Coriolanus demanded, furiously, but Lucy Gray pulled him back, shaking her head, as though to remind him his anger was not for these folks. But he disagreed. How hard was it to keep track an eighteen-year-old? 

“She wanted to know what it was to be a Covey. I told her to come back later, but she wouldn’t. I dunno why it was today, but they rounded us up and forced us back here. I thought that it was comin’ last year, so it was just…” Her eyebrows crinkled, “Long time comin’. Unfortunate coincidence.” 

Coriolanus sucked his cheek in. He didn’t believe that for a second, but he didn’t think they had any part in it. 

Not that it painted them in any better light. 

“And then?” Lucy Gray pressed, leaning over the worn table. 

“The Peacekeepers noticed a kid Reapin’ age with me. I told ‘em she was mine, kept her under the radar all this time. Knew that if she was revealed to be yours…” Maude Ivory shivered, “I was terrified of what they’d do with her. All she had to do was make it through one Reapin’, and then…I’d do anything to try to get her back where she was meant to be.” 

“That’s why she was announced as a ‘Baird’,” Lucy Gray leaned forward, “Thank you.” She gripped Maude Ivory’s fingers, “For tryin’ to save her.” 

“And no one volunteered for her?” Coriolanus asked, spitting furious. Maude Ivory gave a dull laugh.

“This is Twelve, Snow,” She said evenly, “We don’t do that here. We’re barely allowed to talk about our only victor, and if we so much as mention Lucy Gray’s name…” She shook her head. 

Lucy Gray leaned back, eyes traveling over to Clerk Carmine. 

“Oh, come give me a hug. It’s been a long time.” She embraced him, “You two?” She asked, amusement rolling through her tone. 

“Better than anyone else,” Maude Ivory snorted. 

“You speak so highly of me, darling,” Clerk Carmine chuckled warmly. 

“And is this one yours?” Lucy Gray asked, blinking, “I can’t reconcile you old enough to be a mother!” 

“Indeed he is,” Maude Ivory purred, proud, shoulders back, “Baby, come say hello to your Aunt Lucy Gray. But remember, she’s a secret,” She winked, “This is my little joy, Thomas Green Baird. My little Evergreen tree. He just turned eleven,” Her voice cracked with pain. 

Lucy Gray wiped under her eyes, “What a wonderful, beautiful name.” 

“For as long as we can use it…” Clerk Carmine spat angrily, “They’re erasin’ us. If they had it their way, they’d chop the heads off all Bairds, and take away his name too.” 

“Let them take it,” Lucy Gray said, “It doesn’t matter, does it? I haven’t been a Baird in, oh, years now. But I still will always be Covey,” She placed a hand on Thomas’ chest. He grinned up at her, nervous, but intrigued. 

“I liked Elly,” He whispered, “She was really cool. I was sad to see her picked.” 

“We need to get her and take her home,” Coriolanus reminded everyone of their jobs, of their work. 

“I think…I think I can help with that,” Clerk Carmine raised his hand, “I have a few…connections with some Peacekeepers. I think, for the right price, I could get one or two to look the other way. I mean, what’s it to them? One tribute ‘dies’, they just reap one more, isn’t that so?” He asked, his voice full of ire and disgust. 

“You think?” Lucy Gray gasped, “Well, that would be a lot better than guns blazin’...” 

“It’s your kid,” Clerk Carmine insisted, “I’d do whatever I could to keep mine safe…” He trailed off, smiling, shrugging, as though to say that he’d do the same for hers, “Wait here a bit. Don’t insult my wife by refusing her soup, I’ll be back,” He grasped a worn hat from a hook, “It’ll be all alright,” He said. 

He was gone only an hour and a half. In that time, Coriolanus choked down watery flavored broth, wishing he could give Maude Ivory some veggies, just so that this could be edible. Maude Ivory and Lucy Gray shared stories, swapping their lives, with Thomas Green falling asleep on the singular bed in the corner, a hand clasping Lucy Gray’s tightly. Coriolanus sat, unable to do anything else than put all his focus, all his anger, and all his worry toward being ready for what would come next.

Clerk Carmine came back, face serious, “They’ll do it. You owe me, Snow, and not just a little, but a lot-,” 

“I know,” Coriolanus said quickly, “And you’ll have it. If you want to come with us…we’ll take you too.” Though the idea of filling his perfect District 13 with the Covey made him ill, what else could he do to repay such a favor? 

“I don’t know…” Maude Ivory sighed, “The idea of being without the sun seems so…well, I don’t know if that’s what livin’ is.” 

Coriolanus thought she was crazy for not even considering it, but well, what the fuck did he care? 

“Come with me. We can cross through the woods. It’ll be faster to get to the Peacekeeper Hall,” Clerk Carmine said, waving a hand, “Hurry, it’s almost dawn!” 

Lucy Gray, Coriolanus, and Clerk Carmine left Maude Ivory, leaning on the threshold of the house, watching them go. Her fingers played with her hair, and soon, the forest swallowed up her image behind them. 

“Just a bit more, right this way,” Clerk Carmine whispered, deftly jumping between roots, rocks, and branches. Coriolanus pulled out his handgun, checking the safety and pressing his shoulders, as though transitioning into a killing machine, ready to plow through as many peacekeepers as he could if necessary, if this went south. Beside him, he saw Lucy Gray doing the same. 

Before he could take the gun out completely, he was blindsided. A sharp pain and a loud cracking sound exploded on his temple and he was tripped by a foot, careening forward and scuffling across the mossy forest floor. 

Beside him, Lucy Gray cried as someone twisted her weapon away, roughly manhandling her beside him. Coriolanus turned to warn Clerk Carmine, but he saw him standing, unharmed, arms crossed. His eyes were full of sorrow, but he didn’t move to help them. 

Peacekeepers crowded them on all sides, about eight or nine by Coriolanus’s count, making a tight ring. Four dispatched themselves, coming to grasp both Lucy Gray and Coriolanus up, holding their arms behind their backs. 

“You snake!” Lucy Gray screamed, “How dare you! We’re family!” 

“We used to be,” Clerk Carmine said coldly, “And then you married him . Bred kids with him too.” 

“Oh, that’s what this is about?” Coriolanus sputtered, “Really? Are you serious? God; you District folk are insane!” 

“It’s not just that,” Clerk Carmine swallowed, “I got a son to think about now too, Lucy Gray. And they promised me if I did this…he wouldn’t be Reaped ever. I can’t say ‘no’ to that…I can’t.” 

“The mayor? District 12 Peacekeepers?” Coriolanus laughed, “Are you crazy? Do you think they have that power? Fuck, if you believe that, you’re as dumb as rocks!” 

“No, of course, they don’t have that sort of power…” A cool, tightly coiled voice said, as someone broke the line of Peacekeepers and stepped into the clearing, “But I do.” 

Clemensia turned to Clerk Carmine, jerking her head. 

“Go home. You don’t want to be here for this.” 

“And if my wife asks?” Clerk Carmine asked, nervous. 

“Tell them that you did your best, but well, it was always a suicide mission.” She said coldly, “Go.” Her second command was sharper and Clerk Carmine ran, like the coward he was. 

Coriolanus struggled against the men holding him down, but it was pointless. 

“So was all of this a set-up?” He demanded. God, he didn’t fucking believe in coincidences, and he was right.

He hated being right.

“No, of course not,” Clemmie said, almost amused, and Coriolanus realized that he couldn’t tell if she was lying or not, having grown rusty on reading his old school partner after all these years, “But I’m nothing if not an opportunist. But if there was a Baird to reap…the Districts had their orders. That was manipulated, but I thought it would be Clerk’s or Maude’s or Tam’s vermin, but never in a million years did I think it would be your kid.” 

“What are you talking about,” Lucy Gray blinked, “That’s Maude Ivory’s daughter.” 

“Oh, don’t be so modest. She’s the spitting image of both of you. I knew the moment I saw her. What a lucky day for me…” She was almost vibrating in excitement. Any semblance of the kind student that Coriolanus had once known was long gone, though he wasn’t sure why, “And I thought I’d just get you, Lucy Gray. I didn’t think that Coryo had gotten so soft that he’d risk his life for her too. You’ve grown pathetic in old age.” She said, turning to Coriolanus, taunting him. 

“He ain’t ‘Coryo’ to you,” Lucy Gray said cooly. 

“I think I hold the power. I think he’s whatever I want him to be.” Clemensia shrugged. 

Coriolanus bit the inside of his cheek; some part of him knew that this went back to that moment in the Capitol when he’d rejected her. To imagine that she’d been holding this anger for all these years felt…absurd. But Clemmie wouldn’t be calling him Coryo if she didn’t hold something for him still, even that need to take had twisted itself into an ugly resentment. 

“Why do you care if I’m soft or not,” Coriolanus spat, holding in his humor, “And besides, it’s me you want to hurt. Take me back to the Capitol, string me up, make me your pet, I don’t care. Hurt me .” 

Coriolanus was sure if he convinced her of such things, it would be no time at all he’d manage to get the upper hand.

And, while he’d always known that he would kill for his children, the idea of being killed had never crossed his mind…until now. Yet, it felt so natural, such an obvious answer. Why wouldn’t he give himself for them? 

“As tempting as that is…” Clemenisa pretended to think, “I think a much more befitting punishment would be to make you watch your daughter struggle through one of the most violent games to date. The games you had such a hand in making. No mentor in District 12, and no sponsorships. She’ll do her best, but we’ll make sure she doesn’t come out on top. And you’ll watch every moment of it. And when that’s done, we’ll hold you as a bartering tool to take down District 13. And then, when you’ve dried up your usefulness, then I might grant you the sweet release of death. But, only maybe,” Clemmie said with a vicious smile. 

“She’s a child!” Lucy Gray begged, “She’s only seventeen. She won’t even turn 18 until the middle of the games. She’s a baby.” Her voice broke in desperation, “She’s just a baby…” 

Clemmie seemed disinterested in Lucy Gray’s sobbing. She looked at Coriolanus, raising an eyebrow, as though asking if he agreed. In some sense, Coriolanus knew it was hypocritical. Lucy Gray had only been sixteen at her win, and they sent in children far younger, watched them die at much less life on them.

But it was Elly, his baby.

“She’s a child, Clemmie,” Coriolanus agreed, thinking of her wide, curious dark eyes and how she could curl up at his side and show him the rocks or bugs or snakes she found and how all those years weren’t that far off from where she was today, “Please.” 

Coriolanus was not below begging.

Not for Elly.

Clemmie’s lips split into an eerie, unsettled smile, as though Coriolanus had said just the exact wrong thing. Her eyes gathered with tears, “Oh, a child?” She asked, her voice strangled by some emotion that Coriolanus couldn’t understand, “You didn’t seem to care about my daughters and the fact they were children too. And they were much younger than your daughter. Six and four, Coriolanus. Six. Four.” 

Lucy Gray’s brow furrowed, “What…what is she talking about, Coriolanus?” 

He licked his lips, fury settling in on him. He wished he’d told Lucy Gray about what had gone down all those years ago, but now, the truth was snaking from his lips, drawn out by a snake whisperer. 

He couldn't find his voice, unable to figure out how to spin it, so Clemmie spoke, “Avox got your tongue? That’s fine, I can tell it too.” 

Coriolanus knew he ought to jump in, control the narrative, to admit to Lucy Gray that he’d threatened the lives of her children, but he felt like his lips were sewn shut. 

“It’s just…well…” She laughed, a broken tinkling sound, like glass breaking on the floor, “It’s so funny that your husband cares about the life of basically an adult when he didn’t seem to give a damn when he murdered my girls.” 

“No!” Coriolanus struggled against his bonds, his shout echoing around the clearing, as clear as a gunshot, “Fuck you, Clemmie! Tell the truth!” 

“I did what you asked, Snow,” Clemmie’s whole body dropped like she was held up by string, and some unseen force had just let go, “I didn’t tell anyone I saw you. I hung an innocent man for something he didn’t do! But I should have fucking known; it wasn’t enough! I did everything,” She was sobbing now, gasping in heavy breaths, “Everything you asked and you still took their lives! Why?” 

As Coriolanus was staring at her in absolute whiplash, as though she’d taken the butt of her gun and slapped him across the face, Lucy Gray took the moment of horror that rippled around the clearing to wrench herself free with a cry. Everyone zeroed in as she grabbed the gun, the gun that Coriolanus had brought with him that now lay on the forest floor, and relief rushed through Coriolanus.

All it would take was one bullet to displace the peace and Coriolanus was sure he could struggle to freedom. And then, they just needed to run.

All his relief drained away as Lucy Gray swung the gun around, face blotchy as she held in tears, the barrel of the gun pressed against his forehead. 

“Lucy Gray…?” Coriolanus whispered, confused, a coldness gripping him. She’d fumbled their chance; why the hell would she go for him when their captor was standing ten feet away? 

In the background, though Peacekkeper began to move as though they were about to apprehend her (and it would be so easy; she wasn’t watching behind her), Clemmie waved a hand to call them down.

“No,” She seemed pleased as punch, “Let’s see what she does, hmm?” 

Lucy Gray wasn’t focusing on them at all. Her fingers quivered as she pressed the gun more firmly against his forehead, swallowing back fury, “Did you?” She demanded, “Did you do it, Coriolanus? Did you kill her children?” 

“No,” Coriolanus insisted, staring up at her, “Lucy Gray, God, you gotta believe me…” Even as he said it, he realized the folly of his words, and everyone knew it as Lucy Gray’s lips drew into a thin, hard-pressed line.