#commander snow

[hidden-poet]

THE OFFICER; part 4

THE OFFICER

Summary: Coriolanus goes to District 2 for officer training, as a gap year before returning to the Capitol to study under Dr Gaul. There he finds you. Your devotion to your little cousin, reminds him of the only love he has ever known.

warnings: Dead Dove do not eat, stalking, emotional abuse, obsession, Coryo being de lu lu, power imbalance, UNEDITED- typed and forgotten about

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Word count: 14, 756

AN: Please comment.

It was the morning of the exams. Mungo had thrown up twice. Once as soon as he woke up and the second straight after breakfast. 

Coriolanus too felt a dab of anxiety. Failure to pass meant the end of the road. Another year to wait until your next chance and even that had conditions. 

Coriolanus felt a dreadful need to pass. To earn the title of Captain even if he would never use it. Dr Gaul had to know that despite it all he would have topped her. There was nothing that she could do that Coriolanus wouldn’t conquer. Earning Captain would at the very least put him on the same level as her. 

He was no longer the boy that she tormented.  He would be captain Coriolanus Snow. Just like his father. Unlike his father, however, Coriolanus would earn the title rather than obtain it with money and connections. 

Out of the 150 candidates only 20 earned enough points to continue on to the assessment. Those who failed passed rumours that Coriolanus either brought his place or Commander Vongurt rigged the points system. It irritated Coriolanus to no end. They had seen him work, toil and sweat. Balancing training and you was no easy task. 

Mungo reassured him it was just jealousy. That made no improvement to his mood. 

The exam was held in a white room. A man who Coriolanus had never seen before conducted the assessment. He wasn’t a peacekeeper. He wore business clothes and he was too short to make the cut offs. 

Still he must have been important. He spoke as if this was beneath him, and didn’t make eye contact with any of the group.

Mungo sat one row behind Coriolanus as planned. The nerves almost flattened him. The colour from his face was gone, his knee jerked under the table and his pen shook in his hand. 

Once the paper was done, Coriolanus could see why. The exam was five hours but to fully answer all of the questions would take at least six or seven. 

Coriolanus hoped Mungo had learnt enough for the essays. They were mostly like the practice papers. Coriolanus had helped mungo with spelling and grammar. Correcting misinformation and offering a new approach to questions.  He would at least have a foundation to build upon, Coriolanus just hoped it would be enough. 

The multiple choice Coriolanus could help with. Even under the watchful eye of the assessor. 

Coriolanus pushes his paper closer to the side of the desk, angling it so Mungo could get a look at his answer sheet. 

When the bell went off singling the end of the text, mungo let out a sigh of relief. Coriolanus too, felt as if a great weight had been lifted. No more studying. He could finally take his nose out of his book and focus on you and Lorretta. 

The men remain at their desks until the man collected the papers before they were dismissed. One officer who had surely failed, ran out of the room as soon as the dismissal left the assessor mouth. 

“I think I’ll pass this time” Mungo told Coriolanus with unbridled hope. 

“Of course you will”, Coriolanus promises. 

Coriolanus is jolted forward in his chair as Henry kicks the back leg forward. He doesn’t look back at Coriolanus glare. Just continues out the door which agitates Coriolanus further. 

“Ignore him”, Mungo advises, raising himself, “He’s just annoyed you scored more points”. 

Coriolanus follows Mungo from the room back outside and down the path to the bunk. 

”Ah” Mungo gasps in the fresh air, “freedom”. 

“We still have the physical”, Coriolanus reminds him. 

“It takes five business days to get results’, Mungo says, “for those five days I am a free man. It would be an honor to pass this time and complete the physical. I hope you do too, my friend”. 

Mungo pats Coriolanus back. It may be the first time Coriolanus had ever had a true friend. Coriolanus knew everyone and just about everyone knew Coriolanus snow. His name meant people were always friendly with him. Also spoke familiar and kind to his face. But the friendships he harboured in school were surface level at best. Just friendly enough to ask for a favour when it came time. Something could be said for Serjanus but Coriolanus preferred not to think of him. 

District 2 proved fruitful in many areas of his life. He learnt to shoot, fight, strategise. He learnt how to fix and build things. Most importantly he had provided some of the strongest relationships he never dared hope for. Mungo would be a life long friend and Coriolanus  would aid him to rise through the ranks once he was president. The Vongurts too. They would be treated like his parents even if they were only stand-ins.  And you. Oh, you and little Loretta. He would center his life around his girls. Make sure you are lacking nothing. You would grow to love him. Maybe never as much as he loves you but he could settle for less. 

It was 5 business days until he knew if he would pass. If not, it is fine. He had lost nothing but his pride. But still that nabbing feeling to be the best ate at him until Mungo's feeling began to transfer. 

He too was a free man. For 7 days, he could do nothing but sit and wait. For 7 days he could spend all of his free time with you. 

In gratitude Mungo offered to do Coriolanus chores so he could go straight to your house of a morning and not return until late. 

The vongurts gave you the week off to support Coriolanus during this stressful time which meant that you were stuck with him from nearly the moment you opened your eyes until curfew. 

He was quieter than normal. He would never admit it but he felt more anxiety then he let on. The fear of disappointment drowned him. The shame of failure. The humiliation of admitting he wasn’t good enough. 

Idle conversation was made. A polite comment about the weather, discussion about a quirk the vongurts have. Loretta proved to be a fruitful topic but you were hesitant to showcase your child to him. 

The presents still flooded in. With more time on his hands he could go to the post office more often. He had brought Loretta another doll and a game where she had to hook moving fish which she was taken with. It kept her entertained most of the afternoon.

He loved the peaceful afternoons with you and Loretta. Loved going by the school to pick the little one up and eating dinner together. Playing with her before shower and bed. He wished you would let him in the room during your bedtime routine but you always kicked him out, forcing him to listen by the door. 

He sits at the table once the chatter stops, waiting for you to come out. 

You didn’t say anything as you do. A little head nod as you pass him on your way to the kitchen. You liked to keep busy, he believed. 

As you begin to dry the dishes he washed, Coriolanus approached with an envelope retrieved from his bag. 

“Here” he said, pressing an envelope into your hand before you could reach for the next dish. 

You take it from him to investigate the insides. Thick notes were wedged between the paper.

“I figure I’ve been here more often than not. Eating your food. Using your electricity,” he explains, “hopefully that helps the burden”. 

You hold the envelope back out to him forcefully trying to get him to take it back. 

“I can’t accept this” you tell him. 

“Why not?”he questioned, gently pushing your hand away.

“I don’t want your money” you state. 

“Don’t consider it my money. It’s our money”. 

You throw the envelope to the counter and turn away from him. Bussing yourself with the dishes. 

“I am confused. You’ll accept my gifts but money offends you?” 

“Take them back then” you snap, throwing down a spoon in frustration. You turn to look at him again, fighting the urge to push him. 

“I never asked you for anything. In fact I told you to stop bringing them”. 

“I am not trying to fight with you” he defended, “I am trying to understand”. 

Coriolanus takes a step closer, enclosing your upper arms in a gentle hold. You think about shoving him off but feared the outcome. 

“I am just worried I am stressing you out”. 

“You are”.

You feel his hold tighten but his voice remains calm. 

“I am trying to help. Let me take care of the bills until we get back to the capital”. 

“No, thank you”. 

“What?” He gapes 

“Mrs vongurt always says free costs too much” .

”Mrs Vongurt wasn’t referring to us”, he notes calmly, “Do you see her turn away diamonds?”

“Please let go of me”, you ask him calmly. 

He ignores your request, bringing you closer against him instead. His arms wrap tightly around you, enclosing you against his chest. 

“Stubborn thing, aren't you?” he teases. 

“Please let go of me”, you requested again in a stronger voice.

He listens this time, releasing you and taking a step back.

“You will love me one day” he states as a matter of fact, “it’s only a matter of time. I dont know why you are so hesitant to accept the inevitable.” 

With anger you did not know was inside you, you pushed him further back with a harsh shove to his chest. 

“You have them all fooled, don’t you? They were my protectors,” you accuse him. “Lorretta was my child”. 

Coriolanus makes no attempt to invade your space again. He puts himself between you and Loretta’s door, wanting to make a barrier in case the child decides to come out from the noise. 

“The Vongurts love you, and Loretta is still your child”, he defends. 

You move towards the door brashly, going to where your handbag hung and rifling through your possessions. You find what you are looking for before storming your way back to him and slamming the jewellery box on the table for him to see. You open the lid as you place it so there wasn’t a second to guess what it was.

Coriolanus looks at the sparkling diamond ring. Square in cut, set in a thin band. Two small rectangular diamonds were set on each side, and smaller circular diamonds  lined the top left of the metal, joining the ring to the band with the bottom right mirroring the design. 

“She said to give it to you” you state, “she said she’s always thought of Loretta as a grandchild but can’t  wait for a baby. She said” you spat out, “that the sentiment was shared by your grandmother in the Capitol. Apparently, they have been talking a lot recently, seeing as they will be family shortly”. 

“Is the ring the issue?” Coriolanus questions, “I was going to get you one in the Capitol”, he reasons. 

A grunt of frustration leaves your throat. You would have screamed if not for Loretta in the next room. 

“I feel as if I am going insane. You have poisoned everyone around me. I have no one to turn to”.

“You have me” he refutes, taking a step closer, “I would never let anything happen to you”.

“Because you love me right?” you mock. 

“That’s right”, he confirms softly. 

“Then leave” you beg, “If you loved me, you would leave. You wouldn’t do this”.

Coriolanus scoffs at you, rolling his eyes as if it was a bad joke. 

“Do what exactly? He demanded, “Sometimes I think you dream things to complain about”.

“You’re unwell”, you whisper in fright. 

“I am perfectly fine. If you remember our previous conversation, it’s you who is the outsider. I’ve not turned anyone against you. I have given you everything you have asked for, everything you could ever want. Promised you and your cousin a better life. People aren’t turned against you, they are confused by you”. He takes a breath from his rant, rubbing his face in frustration. 

Coriolanus sighs deeply, before taking a step closer to you, close enough to take hold of your wrist.

“I understand that you need time. You’ve been self-reliant for most of your life. I can imagine what that does to a woman's self-esteem and ability to submit. You’ve been in charge, and now it's hard to let go. Tigress gave me similar difficulties. I understand, I do. But my patience has its limits, and you are coming to the end of it. Be careful what you say from now on”.

You can feel the fright in your bones. A familiar shaking feeling coursing through your frame. You nod unsure on what else you could do. 

Coriolanus accepts it, bending down and placing a small kiss to your lips.

“You’ll see” he promises. 

Your wrist is released and Coriolanus goes back to the kitchen table. 

Loretta left her game there, he winds it up, watching as the fish chatter around in the plastic sea. 

“Let’s not fight”, he says, “keep the money for a rainy day.”

He picks up the plastic, miniature fishing rod gesturing it out to you. 

“Loser finishes the dishes?”. 

You had just finished putting Loretta to sleep.The bed time routine became harder due to Coriolanus presence. She wanted to play longer, sleep with her toys. She wanted Coriolanus to read her the bedtime story which you refused in anger. 

Coriolanus sat at the kitchen table after completing the dishes and perused his book while he waited for you. 

You had slowly begun creeping out as he reviewed it for the second time. 

“Would you like a cup of tea?”, you offered him. 

“No, thank you” Coriolanus responds. He scraps back his chair after you pass the back of it and holds out his right arm towards you.

”Come here, I want to show you something”, he states. 

You knew he wanted you to sit on his lap but you deliberately sat in the chair next to him. 

If it bothered him, he didn’t show it.  He just pushed his chair back into the table and slid the book between you. 

The bound book had a long name of a firm written across its cover. Coriolanus flipped the page too quickly for you to decipher the cursive. 

A couple of the pages were already tabbed and he quickly flipped to the first one. 

“What is this?” You ask him, looking at the pictures of the large houses and their marketing descriptions. 

“Properties for us back in the Capitol. This one is right in the heart of the city. Mrs Vongurt will love that. It’s an apartment though. 6 bedrooms, 8 bathrooms, roof top pool for Loretta”.

You look at the pictures. You did not belong there. The only reason you should be in a house that grand is for cleaning. 

“It’s close to the school I want to send Loretta to but I kind of have my heart set on this one”, he flips the page to one marked with two tags. The pictures showed more open space than the last. The cleaning would be much more onerous. 

“My family would only be two streets away. We would have a big backyard, and be away from the noise of the city. We could build a pool for Lorretta. A better one, just for her”, he touched your arm gently. His finger lightly grazing your arm. “I could see us there for the long term. Enough space to grow a family”. 

You picture scrubbing the wooden floors with a baby strapped to your back in a sling. Loretta grown and Coriolanus hands against her skin. 

You jump from the table at the picture, racing outside to cool your panic. You felt so hot, your ears and face burned. It felt as if a heavy weight was placed on to of your body, squeezing the air out of you. 

You fling yourself around the pillar of your house. It was frozen from the cold, the coolness melting into your skin. You suck the cold air in. Your instinct was to flee but you wouldn’t leave Loretta by herself. 

“Are you alright?”, you hear him ask behind you.

He gathers your hair into one hand, bunching it in his fist and holding it in a bun against the back of your head.

”I am sorry, I didn’t think choosing a house would bring you so much anxiety. I’lll take care of it. Don’t worry”, he offers. 

You knock his hand away from your head, your hair dropping back around your neck. 

“Please just leave” you beg. 

“No”, he says sharply, “No, I am not leaving you in this state. Come inside. You’ll catch a cold”.

He wraps his arms around you, forcing you to release your hold of the pillar and enter the house. You remember how excited you were when you first moved it. You had thought this would be your forever home. That Loretta would grow up between the walls and find refuge here in later years.

Now all of that was changing. You were entering into a new world you weren’t sure you could protect her in. 

He sits you on the couch, throwing the decorative blanket across your shoulders. 

“There now, no reason to panic”, he tells you. 

“I don’t want to think about the Capitol”, you admit to him. 

”Okay” he agrees softly, nodding his head.

He moves from in front of you to the cushion next to you, placing a hand on your knee. 

“Maybe tomorrow, I could come with you to pick Lorretta up from school. We could go get an ice-cream in town?”.

You nod once, knowing there was no real choice. 

“I’m going to bed”, you state, already beginning to rise. 

Coriolanus arm stretched out in front of you to the other side of the couch, 

“Right now?” He questions, “I only just got you. An hour, just an hour more”. 

“I would like to sleep”, you sigh. 

His arm moves to the cushion he half sat on, throwing it to the arm of the couch behind you. He then bends down, scooping your ankles into his hold and positioning them across his lap. 

“I wish you had more than that one bed”, he states. His fingers begin digging into the pad of your feet, kneading the mussels. You attempt to sit up right but he refuses to allow your feet off his lap. 

“Sleep. I’ll put you to bed before I leave”, he sighs as he massages your feet, something was bothering him.

“Is something wrong?” you ask him. 

 “I am worried about Mungo”, he states, “He’ll be crushed if he doesn’t pass this round. I wont be around to help him pass next year”.

You had no idea what to say. You hoped he didn’t pass. 

“Even worse, what if he does pass the exams but can’t pass the physical”. 

Coriolanus looks at you in your perplexed state. You had no idea who he was talking about or why he cared if Mungo passed or not. 

“Sorry”, he says, “I shouldn’t dump this on you”

”Mungo’s your friend?” You ask him.

”Hm, yes”, Coriolanus answers. 

“He will be fine. Practice makes perfect”.

”Perfect practice makes perfect”, he corrects, “and Mungo’s practice is far from perfect. Continuing the same mistakes a hundred times wont help him”.

”Officer training is hard. Everyone knows that. Very few pass the first time”.

”Far from his first time. He’s from district 10. His literacy skills are abominable. I worry about Lorretta too. We will have to get her tutors so she can catch up to the Capitol children”, his eyes flick to you, remembering what you said moments ago, “sorry”.  

Your heart began to rise again. The Capitol will surely eat Loretta alive. 

“How are you going to explain a child in your life? Your Capitol friends will know she isn’t yours. That she is district”. 

“She is mine”, Coriolanus snaps, “And the Capitol is large. People live on the outskirts of the city.  We will simply tell people that your father is in trade so you live close to the rail. That he asked us to take Loretta back to the city with us so not to deprive her from society as he did you”.

”she is too young to understand”, you argue, “leave us here. We will join you when she is older and less likely to out your lie”.

You could tell you annoyed him by the way his body locked and his eyes darkened. 

“I thought you were tired. Go to sleep”, he commands. 

His fingers became stronger as they squeezed the bottom of your foot. 

“Coriolanus”, you reason, sitting up to face him. 

“Shut up” he tells you, “you and Loretta are coming back to the Capitol with me. That isn’t a question”. 

You lie back down, feeling the panic grow from your chest up to your throat. 

“I am sorry” he says softly after a moment, “I don’t mean to get cross. I just couldn’t bear going back without you”.  

His fingers continued to massage as he talks. You could feel his eyes upon you but you refused to look at him. 

“You should go” you tell him quietly. 

He scoffs at you. “Because of a small argument? I said I was sorry”. 

His frustration pricked the anxiety in you. You were never any good at conflict. 

You sit up again and offer him a small smile which at least gets his fingers going against your feet again. 

“No” you say, “because you are tired and it is late.  You should rest”. 

You slip your feet from him, planting them firmly on the ground. 

“You are my rest” he states. 

He picks up the blanket that had fallen on your lap and he uses it to herd you closer to him so you are resting against his side. 

With an arm resting over you, you are trapped in the spot.

“You feel cold” he frets, pulling the blanket tighter over your shoulders.  

You feel his fingers playing with your hair. Twirling the stand around his finger absentmindedly. 

“I love you very much,” he says. 

“I am tired”, you croak, a single tear rolls down your cheek. 

“Go to sleep. I’ve got you”, he promises. 

You squeeze your eyes shut and begin to count backward from one hundred. On your third round you begin to lose the numbers as you drift slowly off to sleep listening to his soft breaths. 

He makes good on his promise to put you to bed. The next morning you wake tucked in with Loretta. 

Coriolanus was cautious about what was shown to Loretta. If he had an issue with you, he would stew until Loretta went to bed before addressing it. 

You soon grew to hate bedtime. Loretta was allowed to stay up later which put her in a terrible mood in the morning. But at some point the child had to go to bed, meaning you were left with Coriolanus. 

“I have a gift for you”, he states, getting up from the table where you were having your nightly tea. 

He pulls the box from his bag, sitting back down before giving it to you. 

“Is it the gold necklace I wanted?’ You asked him. 

You thought it was odd when he only presented Loretta with a gift today. He now provides the catalogs letting you and Loretta sit at the table and circle what you wanted. You chose heavy metals and other items of easy trade. 

”Better” he states, taking another sip of his tea.

When you opened the lid you saw a pair of large sparkling pink diamonds sitting in a velvet cushion.  

“From one of your latest cutouts. I believe you paired it with a ball gown but that will have to wait for another special occasion”.

He lifts the box up to you, holding it in one hand and brushing his other hand against your neck. His fingers hook around the back of your neck and his thumb brushes against your ear. 

”Oh, thank you” you say softly, “Diamonds aren’t really district wear either. Gold and silver are the fashion here. The cutouts are only imaginary”. 

Coriolanus sighs, throwing the box on the table and leaning against his hands as he looks at you. 

“Diamonds are too hard to move, right?” He questioned in a tone that told you he already knew. 

“What?” You shifted uncomfortably in your chair, wanting nothing more than to leave. “I am sorry. They are beautiful”.

You reach for the box on the table, opening the fallen lid to gaze at the earrings. 

“Thank you”, you say with a smile. 

“Gold you can melt down- reuse” he continues, “Silver, copper. All valuable on the black market. Diamonds through, well they’re harder to disguise, aren’t they?”.

You shake your head, placing the box back on the table and taking careful measure to not meet his eye. 

“Are they? I wouldn’t know”. You attempt to rise but his hand latches out to your wrist, commanding you to stay. 

“You think I don’t know what you are doing? Why Lorretta keeps asking for toys outside out of age group. Gold statues of people she doesn’t even know. You failed to get a visa so you’ve turned to the black market to get a fake one or do you plan to be smuggled out?”, his voice was tight with anger but he spoke in an almost hushed tone. 

His hold turned tighter as he spoke, almost crushing the bone of your wrist. 

“I don’t know what you are talking about”, you try. 

“It’s dumb. And sure to get you and Loretta killed”.

You tug your wrist but he refuses to release you. Unable to stop yourself, you rise from your chair. Your flight sense overpowering you. 

“I am sorry. I love the earrings”, you slightly panic.  

His eyes roll over your form before he releases your wrist and slumps against the table. 

“I won’t bring anything anymore. You can explain to Loretta why that is”. 

You nod. You didn’t want him bringing anything anyway. It was better that Loretta have no reason to favour him. 

He rubs his hands over his face before straightening in his chair. 

”I am tired”, he admits to you. 

“Maybe you should go back” you tell him, “to rest”.

”What are you going to do when we live together? How will you command me off then?”

You could tell his day was stressful. He arrived later than usual.

“I wouldn’t dare command you. It was a suggestion is all”. 

He calls as you turn to walk away, “come here”.

He kicks his chair out on an angle so he was free from the table. You obey his command, walking back over to him where you were led to his lap. Placed awkwardly on his thigh with his arm lassoed around your waist to keep you there. 

“You are not a rebel”, he tells you, calmer than before. “I am just trying to protect you. Black market providers will take and take from you. I have been speaking to the Vongurts, we think  after this, that it may be best for you and Loretta to stay at the Manor".

”What? No” you attempt to rise but his arm prohibits you.

”What other option am I left with?” He asks you, “It was a very stupid mistake. One I am having a hard time forgiving”. 

“I didn’t do anything”, you defend, ‘You cannot make decisions and expect me to follow through on them”.

His hand on your face stills you in your fight to be free. 

“Tomorrow Loretta is going to the Vongurts. You can go with her or you can see her on the train back to the Capitol”. 

“Fuck you” you spit unexpectedly. 

You gasp as soon as the words leave your mouth. You had never stepped out of like before. 

“I-I” you stutter, unsure where to go next. 

“It’s alright” he assured. 

Your heart hammered in your chest. Your nerves felt electrical under your skin. Would he tell the vongurts? Would you be in trouble? 

His thumb moves over your cheek bone, brushing back to the top of your ear in a hold. 

“Everything is alright” he tells you. 

Breathing becomes too hard. You settle for shallow breaths which doesn’t help the pain in your chest. 

In true fashion, tears fall from your eyes before you can name the sob rising from your chest. 

He pulls you into him, so your head was in the crook of his neck and his shirt collected your tears. 

“Oh my darling. I am not mad at you. I understand” he soothed, “I know this is a big change for you and Loretta. I know you were only doing what you thought was best but you leave that to me now. I’ll never let anything happen to my girls”. 

“I never asked for this. I never wanted it” you sobbed, clutching at his shirt. 

“Ohh” he laughs, “big burden, is it? Being loved?”. 

His mockery made your ears burn but you would never call him on it. 

“My sweet girl” he sighs, petting the side of your head, “I’ve looked into medication to calm your anxiety. I don’t want you on it in the Capitol but if you wanted I can have it delivered to the district to help you with the transition period”. 

You shook your head hard against him. The last thing you needed was to be disoriented. How would you protect Loretta in such a state. 

“No” you tell him, “I’m fine. I’ll stop”, you promise but the tears won’t stop coming. 

“I am sorry” you cry when you can’t stop a loud sob from escaping. 

He shhs you gently, continuing to pet you. 

“Don’t cry. The Capitol isn’t as scary as you seem to think it is. We’ll be happy there. Loretta will be safe there”.

“Coriolanus, I am sorry. Please don’t do anything,” you beg of him. 

“I would never hurt you, you know that”, he contends, “ I wasn’t forcing the medication on you, it was only an offer. And you should go to the Vongurts. I think it would help. Vongurt is also going to need the name of the market dealer”. 

You tense at the thought of throwing the man under the bus. He was trying to help you. That’s all. He wasnt trying to rob you as Coriolanus claimed. 

“There was no market dealer”, you lie.

“I am not a fool Y/n, and neither is Vongert. Unexplained absences, suddenly accepting my gifts with pleasure but only if they are silver and gold metal. I haven't seen half of the presents I brought for Loretta. I imagine they have been stripped for parts. My, I wonder what you could be doing”. 

Your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You could throw up if your body ever unlocked itself. 

“If you dont want to give it to Vongurt, you can tell me and I will pass it along. No one will ever speak of it again”. 

“I don’t have a name. He never gave it”, this was at least true but you wondered if it would be good enough. 

“A description, a location, the name of the person who introduced you. Anything that might help Vongurt forgive you. They are quite upset”.

“Then why would I stay with them?”, you badger. 

“Because they personally want to make sure you don’t do anything further that is stupid that could put you or Lortetta in danger. They also love you”, he states, “it’s getting to the final days here. I am sure they want to spend as much time as they can before we leave”.

“When?” you whisper with tears forming in your eyes.

“The physical is next Monday. The induction ceremony the week after that. We would be on the train the next day”. 

You think about making him promise to send you back the second he is bored with you, or swear to never touch Loretta, but what good would his promise be? He could do anything he liked at any time. 

Your body shook with another sob, Coriolanus hold got tighter.

The next morning he was at your door early with a borrowed car. 

You had not packed. You were unable to force your body to throw what you could into a bag. Seeing him there gives you the energy to grab what you could. He helps Loretta pack.  The small girl chatters around him while he holds out items in question. 

The ride there is silent. Coirolanus reaches out to take hold of your hand but his eyes remain on the road.

The manner is quickly reached although Coriolanus drove at a slow speed. 

The Vongurts were by the open door, their servants waiting on the gravel to receive the incoming guests. 

In shame you withdrew your hand from Coriolanus and leaped for the door before one of your fellow coworkers could do it for you. 

None of them made eye contact with you as you circled the car and retrieved Loretta from her seat.

The shame was too much. You were a victim not a traitor you wanted to tell them. Instead you silently marched onwards away from their avoidance.  

Mr Vongurt stood under the archway, watching as you made your way to the steps. 

Mrs Vongurt was trapped in the hallway behind him. She bounced with excitement, not sharing her husband's stern exterior. 

Coriolanus got the bags out of the car, allowing you to hold on to Loretta. 

You try to smile but your lips can only form a thin line. 

“Good morning”, you greet softly as you approach. 

Mr Vongurt grips your upper arm in a painful hold, bringing you solely under his intense gaze. You release Loretta in case she needed to escape but the child clings to your dress, burring her head in the fabric. 

“A name” he demands. 

“Octavous,” his wife scolds, “let the child get through the door first”. 

Mrs Vongurt reaches under her husband to take Loretta through the entryway and away from the scene but Loretta refuses to go.

The child screeches as she is touched by Mrs vongurt. 

“Please” you beg. 

Loretta releases your dress, running back down the steps to Coriolanus as he approaches the scene. 

Coriolanus picks her up, carrying her back over in the safety of his arms. 

“A name!,” Mr Vongurt boomed.

“No,” you refuse. 

“No?” he questions, “after everything we have done for you, you go consorting with rebels. I could have you hanged like your parents”.

“Octavous!” Mrs. Vongurt gasps. 

Coirolanus finally reaches the scene, placing his hand on top of Mr Vongurts arm.

“Sir, please let her go” Coriolanus requests. 

The older man does but his body remains blocking the door. 

“Where should they put the bags?” he redirects. 

Mr Vongurt has lost his anger after his comment about your parents. You could see the regret in his eyes. 

Coirolanus wraps an arm around your waist, resting his hand on your hip. 

“The east wing. The rooms with the conjoining wall”, he spoke loud enough for the servants to hear. 

Your colleagues begin to make haste. Trying to move out of the area as soon as possible. 

“I want to know who” vongurt spoke softly to Coriolanus. 

“I know. But nows not the time”, Coriolanus returned. 

“Is there any food?” Coriolanus asked trying to ease the tension.

“Yes, my darling, yes” Mrs Vongurt exclaimed, “Come in”.

Mr Vongurt stepped out of the way, allowing the group to pass him. 

He remains under the arch way, moving in the opposite direction as your cross the threshold. 

“Bring my car out!” He screams to one of the passing servants. 

“Oh ignore him” Mrs Vongurt advised, gently pressing on your shoulder to keep you moving forward, “Miseriable old thing”. 

You hear Loretta whimper into Coriolanus’ shoulder. Life had been peaceful for the two of you before him. 

You were led to the hosting room where food and tea was presented between lavish floral displays. In the corner rows of dresses were hung on racks covering the long back wall. 

“oh I am just so excited to have you here.  I cried for months when you moved out with Loretta. Although I of course understood. Sit, sit” Mrs Vongurt rambles. 

Loretta doesn’t pop her head off Coriolanus shoulder, nor does he make any attempt to seat her in her own seat. He sits her on his lap at the table, her feet dangling behind him. 

You didn’t like the position at all.

”Loretta, Loretta” Mrs Vongurt called, rubbing the small girls back. 

“Look at all the stuff I brought you” she said, “I thought we could play dress up”.

Loretta lifts her head, now looking around the room until her eyes hit the racks. Her body wiggles trying to get off, Coriolanus lift her off, placing her on the floor next to Mrs Vongurt who takes the child’s hand. 

“Do I get to keep one, Mrs Vongurt?” Loretta almost begs. 

“One? You get to keep them all my dear. And it’s Vivi, Granny Vivi.Your other grandmother is called Grandma’am. Vivi and Grandma’am”.

Loretta looks back at you unsure what Mrs Vongurt was hinting at. 

“Oh well, you’ll meet her. Very soon. Back in the Capitol” Vongurt explains to the child. 

“Both of your grandma’s are dead, Loretta” you state, “there is no one else”.

Coriolanus reaches for your hand, giving it a tight squeeze. 

“What your cousin means to say” Coriolanus interjects, “is that the Vongurts and my grandmother are going to step in to be your grandparents from now on. You also have an aunty back in the Capitol just dying to meet you”.

”WOW so cool” Loretta exclaims. She throws her arms around Mrs Vongurt’s leg in a hug which brought tears to the older women, 

“Come on, my darling” Mrs Vongurt cooed, “lets see what you have”. 

She leads your child to the clothes allowing you a moment to think. 

You attempt to yank your hand free but Coriolanus refuses to let go. It became painful to fight so you rested your caught hand on your lap. 

“You’re making this hard for Loretta” he critiqued you, “and you’re being unfair to Mrs Vongurt”.

You sigh, He was right. Mrs Vongurt has treated you like a daughter until the arrival of her son. 

“I know. I am sorry”, you state. You were sorry. The last person you wanted to hurt was Mrs Vongurt. You knew she never made any real decision. 

His thumb brushes over the back of your hand in a feather touch that made you shiver. 

“I will talk to Mr Vongurt for you”, he offers, “see if I can get his mind off a name”.

”Thank you”, you breathe. You could never betray someone like that. Your own parents saw the noose because another saved their own skin. 

Coriolanus dips to kiss you. Your lips remain unmoved as he pecks his lips against yours. 

“I love you. Everything will be alright”, he promises. 

You knew he was earnest but disbelieved him nonetheless. 

The guest room had a conjoining wall meaning that you could open it between you and Loretta. You still slept with her in the king sized bed, surrounded by pillows and heavy lush blankets. 

You had made the bed a hundred times and never once thought about sleeping it in. Now you were treated as a guest in a house that you used to spend hours shining and doing your best to stay invisible when actual guests arrived. 

Loretta fell right to sleep after her big day but your anxiety rushed within you. Your breathing wouldn’t level, let alone slow enough for sleep.

You hear the wall roll back earning your attention. Mr Vongurt push his head into the dark, illumined by the light behind him. 

You quickly rise. Thankfully your pajamas were nice enough to be seen in.

He retreats back into the room once you rise allowing you to come to him. 

“Mr Vongurt, is everything alright?’, you ask, closing the wall back to block the light from waking Loretta. 

For a moment you held hope that he would offer to take you away. To hide you and Loretta until Coriolanus left. But the hope was foolish and you knew better. 

“As well as being betrayed can be”, he sniped, “Child what you did was foolish and irresponsible but I shouldn’t have grabbed you, nor made the comment about your parents. I am sorry for that”.

”I never betrayed you, At least I never wanted to. I just wanted to be free. To make sure Loretta was safe”.

”safe?” Mr Vongurt interrupted, “You think what you did was safe?”

”You betrayed me” you asserted, “by giving me to that man without a thought”

Vongurts mouth dropped, a genuine look of surprise dawned across his face. Did he really not know what he did?

“Coriolanus is a fine man.  I couldn’t have picked a finer man myself. A good man who will look after you and Loretta. Keep Loretta from the games. He’s taking you back to the Capitol to live as a free woman. Without him none of this would be possible. He has answered every prayer we had. We have a son, a daughter and a grandchild. And you want to ruin it because you are a foolish, selfish, little girl who thinks she knows better”. 

“I do not love him” you declare.

”Pretend” Mr Vongurt demands.

”He is not well. He will hurt us”.

”He is a man in love. I have never known a sane man in love”.

”He assaulted me” you say in a soft voice. Tears weep from your eyes as you recall the memory. Mr Vongurts shoulders droop as he listens on. A solemn look crosses his face but his eyes remain convicted of his cause. 

“He is a man”, Mr Vongurt reasons softly back, “he needs you”.

Your heart shatters as he defends your tormentor. You were trapped with no apparent way out. 

“I’ve already told him I expect marriage within a year, and Loretta to be legally adopted by him. Both to which he readily agreed. This is yours and Lorretta only chance of a better life. I can’t give it to you. He can. Be kinder to him. Look after him and he will look after you and Loretta”. 

You hiccup through your tears. The large room seemed to close in around you. 

Mr Vongurt pulls you into a hug. His tight squeeze pushing the air from your lungs. 

”I wish you all the happiness in the world” he declares, “just don’t let it slip through your fingers”. 

With a kiss to your check he lets you go, telling you to go back to bed, and forget the fight between you today. 

Coriolanus shows up at breakfast time the next day. He walks causally in offering you a sweet smile as his eyes feel upon you. 

“So?So?” Mrs Vongurt squeals in her seat.

You hadn’t realised the results would be released today. Mrs Vongurt had been quiet at the table but you had thought it was because Loretta would not stop talking. 

“I’ve been told to prepare for the worst hour of my life”, he grins. 

Mrs Vongurt screams, jumping up from the table in glee. 

Coriolanus crosses the floor, taking a seat next to you and stealing a kiss as he sat. 

“We must celebrate!” She declares, “have a party. I think I still have some champagne from Mr Vongurts birthday”. 

“I can’t stay long” he tells you in a soft tone while Mrs Vongurt babbles on, “but I will be back tonight. I don’t have to worry about points anymore”.

Coriolanus takes your hand in his, interlocking your fingers on your lap.

”Mungo passed too”, he sounded relieved, “we’re going to map out the course. See what we are up against”.

”back tonight?” You repeat. 

“Hm yes”, he confirms, stealing your toast, “around dinner time. Try to keep her within reason”, he speaks loud enough for Mrs Vongurt to hear, “fireworks and dancers to the minimum", he jested, rising from his seat. 

“Oh hush”, Mrs Vongurt dismisses. 

“They’ll be fireworks?” Loretta asked excitedly. 

“See what you’ve done?” Mrs Vongurt scolded. She bends down to explain scarasum to Loretta who sat more interested in her danish. 

Coriolanus laughs, taking another bite of your toast. 

“I’ll make it up to her”. He brings your intertwined hand up to his mouth for a kiss before releasing it in favour of two steps back. 

He reaches down to pat Loretta heads, and give Mrs Vongurts shoulder a firm squeeze as to not interrupt her. 

“I’ll see you” he says to you, “let Loretta have the day off school day. It’s a big moment”. 

Lorretta squeals once more at the news, the fireworks long forgotten. 

“Horray” the group cheers as the cork of the champagne is popped. 

Mr Vongurt pours the gold liquid into the flutes, while Mrs Vongurt passes Loretta a flute filled with apple juice. 

The glasses are passed to the adults. Coriolanus stood next to you, an arm around your waist in a casual manner while he accepts it with thanks. 

“To my boy”, Mr Vongurt toasts, “never doubted you for a second but hoped there would be a second round”. 

“Octavous’, his wife complains. 

“So he would stay longer, not because I am jealous”, he defends. 

“Thank you, sir” Coriolanus graciously accepts, “I hope to be half the leader you are one day”.

”How to kiss ass in one of your practice papers?” Vongurt ribs. 

Coriolanus finishes his sip to answer, “chapter 11”.

Vongurt laughs, slapping Coriolanus on the back. 

“Yeah, well, brains will only get you half way.  Next Monday we will see if you have the discipline to finish". 

“We’re proud of you regardless” Mrs Vongurt confirms, “very few rise as fast as you have”.

”Y/n?” Mr Vongurt calls, “Care to say something?”.

”Not really”, you state softly. 

Coriolanus laughs. He is the only one. 

“Take a sip”, he commands, “Have you had champagne before?”

’No”, you confirm, taking a sip. It was fizzy at first but smoothed down into a sweet taste. 

Coriolanus clinks his glass against yours, “first of many”.

Coriolanus quickly changes topics. Redirecting conversation to Mr Vongurts physical and then discussions on what him and Mungo could piece together for this year's physical. You were grateful to be able to fade into the background. 

Loretta was occupied with her dollhouse. She wore a brand new, pink dress with lace and ruffles on the skirt. Something you could never afford.  She had more than enough food to eat, toys to play with. She was safe, warm, happy. Everything you ever wanted for her. It stung that you never gave her any of this. This was all him. 

It felt like her happiness was built on sand. He could rip everything away as fast as he gave it. How long would you be enough for? How long before he got bored and throws you away?

You feel his thumb rub circles on your hip bone, absentminded. Would you play his doll forever?

The night dragged on. You said little and was called on it only a few times. 

Bed time rolled around and you were insistent against everyone that Lorettas bedtime could not be extended. It was the first tantrum she had thrown since she was a baby. 

Coriolanus aided in getting her up stairs where you quickly kicked him from the room. Bed time was a nightmare but Loretta eventually went to sleep, liking you less than she did before. 

You could see the soft, warm, yellow light peaking out from under the conjoining wall. You knew Coriolanus was in your room, waiting. He wouldn’t leave. Not without what he came for. 

Your feet felt like cement as they led you to the room. The door was ajar waiting for you. 

Red rose petals covered the bed, spalled over the covers and pillows.  The bedside lamp was the only real source of light, helped by a few scent candles placed with care around the room. More champagne sat in an ice bucket on the nightstand. 

You entered as Coriolanus placed a dark blue box in the centre of the bed. You had come to know the brand as high end Capitol jewelry. He sought to buy himself out of another situation. 

“What are you doing?” You quake. 

He spins quickly with a gentle smile on his face, approaching you slowly.

”Loretta down?” He asks gently.

You think about running but where? No one here would help you, and you could never get Loretta out in time before you were caught. 

There was no way out of this for you. Your only option was to endure and hope it was quick. 

He softly takes your dead hand in his.

”I want you to know how special you are to me. You’ve made these last few months bearable. I’ve grown to think of you as a part of me. The best part”.

He doesn’t look at you as he speaks, his eyes are downcast to your feet but they flick up for the next part of his speech. 

“I would do anything for you. For your happiness. If you believe nothing, believe that. I know you don’t always see it that way but everything I do, I do with you in mind”.

Was he trying to convince you that this was for your benefit? you think to yourself. 

“I love you”, he declares, “more than I have ever loved anyone before. Everything has led me here, to this moment with you”.

Coriolanus starts to walk backwards towards the bed. Your stiff legs move slowly to follow. 

“If I had to do it all again, I would”, he stops by the end of the bed, releasing your hand to reach for the straps of your dress, pushing down the thin fabric to your shoulders, “for this, for you”.

He bends down, placing his lips to your neck, using force on the back of your shoulder to push you into him. At least he was finally done talking.  

You remain rigid, allowing this to happen. All that matters is Lorretta is safe in bed. Nothing else that happens tonight is relevant. 

With his hold he drops his weight on the bed, sitting down on the end. 

His kisses land against your mouth as he reaches for the back of your dress, zipping it down and pushing it to your waist. 

“I love you”, he declares again, placing a kiss against your chin. 

You sigh, laying down on the bed in defeat. 

He works on his uniform, throwing the material to the ground without care. Before reaching to pull the dress clean off your body. 

“I am going to get you out of here”, he promises, laying his body over yours, “You and Loretta. Take you back to the Capitol where it’s safe. Surround you with all the world has to offer”. 

His finger hooks around the waistline of your panties, tugging them down your legs and onto the floor. You gasp as he does. The sound making it way up from your throat under Coriolanus’ lips. 

“It’s okay”, he assures unclipping your brah next.  

Your body should have shook. You should be crying uncontrollably but instead you felt numb to it all. Nothing mattered. You had already lost. 

Painfully you bit into your lower lip just to feel something. 

”Don’t do that”, he commands, pulling your lip from your teeth with his thumb. 

“The first time is always scary. Just relax. I’ve got you”.

You feel his body separate as he reaches for the pillows, throwing all but two from the bed. 

“Here, get comfortable” he demands. 

In compliance you drag your naked form over the rose petals, laying down on the pillow with your eyes shut. 

He lets out a breath as you lay down, running his finger in circles on the top of your left breast. 

“You are so beautiful”, he states. 

“Just get on with it”, you beg. 

His finger slides between your folds. You were too dry to enter. 

He kneels between your legs, taking your thighs in a tight hold as he places his mouth against you. 

His tongue pushes inside of you, lapping up your taste. 

Your arms cross your chest, hiding your breasts from the cold air. You let out a whine that sounded like displeasure but he continued without breath. 

Your teeth found your lip again, this time biting hard enough to draw blood. 

His mouth moves warm and wet against you until you become warm and wet for him. 

He stops as soon as your moisture hits his tongue. He wanted you to last.

With a soft pant, he crawls back up your body to be level with you. 

He sighs seeing the split on your lower lip, the blood seeps into the torn gap, slowly swiping into your mouth. 

“Why did you do that?” He sighs, gently rubbing his thumb over the wound, “See? You don’t know what’s good for you”.

His curls tickle your face as he leans down next to your head, positioning himself in front of your entrance. 

“I’ve got you now. I’ll take care of you”. 

While he made efforts to ensure you were wet enough for him, the stretch of taking his length brought tears to your eyes. 

“I know, baby, I know. Just a little more”, he consoles sliding further in. 

Your finger dig into the skin of his shoulders while you adjust to him inside of you. You had thought little about your first time but never would have imagined this. 

When you felt his skin flush against yours, you knew he was fully inserted but all too soon, he was moving back, bringing himself nearly all the way out before thrusting back in again, hitting something inside of you that made you jolt. 

His body became hot over yours. It felt as if he had suffocated all the air around you. 

The squeak of the bed was low but still you worried it would wake Loretta. 

His fingertips felt bruising against the back of your leg, pulling you into each thrust. 

The space between your bodies was minimal. Sticky skin against sticky skin. 

He moans as he gains momentum which had your eyes shooting open so you could allocate his mouth and clamp a hand over it to silence him. 

‘Sh, Loretta’s asleep’ you beg. 

He makes no attempt to move it. Rocking into your hold as he maintains thrusts. 

As he draws closer to his end, his head lowers from your hand to your collarbone, going harder into you than before. 

You choke back a cry at the sensation but half of it strangles out of your mouth. 

”shh” he teases. 

Only heavy breaths were heard between you as you both reached climax. 

He hit it first with a low, deep groan. You followed quickly after him, silently,  with all your feelings squeezed from your fingers into his back. 

It was hot. Too hot. You longed for the cool air. Wanting nothing more than your breath back. 

Your legs break free from his hold, trying to launch him off you with a push on his hips with your feet, and a push on his shoulders with your hands. 

“Easy, you’re alright”, he says, “you’re safe”.

He rolls off you, onto the blue, rectangle box long forgotten. 

Pulling it from under his shoulder, he opens the lid, taking the Diamond tennis bracelet from it’s place and discarding the empty box to the floor.  

He lifts your limp wrist, clipping the bracelet around your wrist. As he places a kiss on the back of your hand, you yank it from his hold, forcing yourself to rise on shakly legs. 

“Get dressed” you demanded him as you claw for your clothes on the floor, “Loretta could wake”, you panic. 

You find his uniform jacket, pegging it at his head. He catches it with ease, listening to you by putting on his clothes. 

“I don’t think she will” he offers. 

“Quickly” you demanded of him, rushing to redress yourself. 

“Y/n” he calls, slowly approaching, “You’re alright”.

His hand reaches out to touch you, casting  a large shadow that covers the wall.

You jump away before it even had a chance to land. His hand hung in the air for an uncomfortable amount of time before slowly lowering. 

It felt better to have both of you dressed. Easier to ignore what just happened. 

Your fear choked you. Your eyes stung with tears but none came. 

“I need” you begin, your head swelling with thoughts. 

Your legs buckled beneath you forcing you to take a seat on the end of the bed. 

“What?” Coriolanus quizzed, kneeling down in front of you, “What do you need?”.

His hands on placed on either side of the bed but he is careful not to touch any part of you. 

“The pill’ you blubbered. He didn’t need a hint to know which pill you were referring to. 

“You need to get it”, you told him, “They wont let me outside of this house. It’s too hard. I can pay you, please, I can pay you”.

Coriolanus rises, moving quickly to his bag hung on the back of the vanity chair. He pulls out a plastic circular container, numbered for the days of the month. He took this job seriously researching all the different types of contraceptives and their side effects before finally settling on one. The most expensive one, of course, the best.   

‘’Here’’ he gestures out. You take it from him with shaky hands, trying to open the lid of the first compartment but the lid refuses to unhinge. 

Coriolanus takes it gently from you, opening it with ease and flipping the pill from the container into his hand to present to you. 

“The pill works over a 24 hour period so you can miss a day if you forget”, he explains as he pops and pours the champagne, “Few side effects. Maybe low energy as you adjust, I am told.” He comes back over with the flute, kneeling back down in front of you.

You take the glass, downing the pill with a swig of the champagne. 

“When we want to try for children, all you have to do is stop taking it for a month to allow your body to flush out the toxins. You need to continue to take one a day or else you’ll be sick” he mentions. 

“I was going to give it to you in the morning. I thought you might need rest”.

The morning, you think to yourself. Was he planning on staying the night? Sleep in your bed? Continue with what he started?

”Go’, you demanded, ‘please just go”. 

He looks taken aback by your request but remains calm and collected.

”No, I don’t think I should”, he states, “I think I should stay”.

”No”, you refute, “Please leave. I just want to be with Loretta”. 

The tears that stung your eyes finally fell in large, hot, drops against your cheek. 

He rises himself on his knees to your height, taking your face into his hands and brushing your tears away with his thumb. 

“Please don’t cry”, he begs, “tell me what’s wrong. Is it pain?”.

Before he get up to retrieve the medicine stashed in his bag, you confirm his fear that the issue wasn’t something so simple.

”I want to go home” you cry. 

“Look, it will all be over soon, okay? The physical is in two days. If I pass we’ll be on the train back to the Capitol in a week, if I fail we'll be on the train the next day. This is nearly over. We can begin our life shortly. Our life. One where you and Loretta are taken care of. Safe”.

“Please leave” you repeat your request once more, “Please”.

”Y/n, I don’t want to”, Coriolanus states.

”Please. I wont sleep” you assert, “I won’t rest. Not with you here”, a sniffle itches your nose. You knock his arm away to rub the back of your hand under it. 

“I need you to leave”, you beg. 

Coriolanus stands to his feet without a word and gathers his bag and shoes. 

“I hope one day you will realise I am not against you”, he states before leaving the room. 

You were too scared to open the door in case he was still outside, stewing in his anger. Instead you opened the conjoining wall and slid through to the darkness of Loretta room. 

You quieten your sobs the best you can. Laying down on the hard, wooden floor next to the tall bed in which Loretta slept, warm and unaware. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to join her, although you wanted nothing more than to hold her close. You were dirty, disgusting, unworthy to lie on anything but the cold hard ground. 

Soundlessly you ache on the floor, rolling yourself into a ball as if you were in physical pain. You made no attempt to stop him. You wont the next time he tries either. You will just lie there and take it like a coward. Your parents would be so disappointed. Your aunt would be close to rage. You had failed to protect her little girl like you had promised so long ago. But you were scared. So scared. 

You weren’t smart enough to save Lorretta. You weren’t brave enough. You weren’t enough. Coriolanus would grow tired of you soon. It was the Vongurts affection that had him caught. Once you were removed from it, he would soon start seeing you as a district in the Capitol. What then? What fate would he have you and Lorretta facing? 

Your grief suffocates you until exhaustion takes its place.

Coriolanus didn’t visit the next day. When it hit 5PM you knew he wasn’t going to visit at all and you could breathe. 

The day before the physical the compound was shut down to set up. Coriolanus needed to be back before 5 and locked in or he would forfeit his place.

He tossed in his bunk below Mungo. He should be thinking of tomorrow but his mind was on you. Your strange reactions to your first night. He had done everything right

Maybe he was too quick with his intent. Maybe he should have allowed you a glass of champagne first. Ease into the night with some gentle conversation. But you laid down quickly. Made no attempt to stop him. How was he supposed to know he was going too fast. You told him to get on with it. 

Coriolanus sighs, tossing to his side. You had treated him like a monster. It was one thing to react negatively to a new situation, it was another to banish someone who was only trying to help. You never let him help. No matter how competent he showed himself to be, you always saw him as opposition, not a partner. 

He loved you. So gentle, so kind. You wouldn’t survive ten seconds in the hunger games, and that’s what he loved the most. You were not built for this world. He only wanted to ensure that you were safe. He had given up on happiness, that was something only you could obtain for yourself. He would settle for safe, fed and warm. 

You could hate him. He didn’t care. He knew what needed to be done. Emotions couldn’t get in the way of logic. You could feel any sort of way about his decisions so long as you obeyed them. 

He tosses again to his other side. It wouldn’t always be like this. Once you are settled in the Capitol, surely your anxiety will be released. Everyone would soon settle into a happy little family. The past life long forgotten. He himself was looking forward to forgetting all that he could. 

Of the 20 that took the written, only 5 made it to the physical. 

Henry was unfortunately among them. Looking mean and determined as he gazed out across the obstacle course that began the test. 

Large banners hung everywhere, barricades were set up to separate the contestants from the audience of peacekeepers,and to guide the men as they made their way to the finish line. 

Mr Vongurt stood with some other officials in front of the barricades in the shade offered by the decorative archway.

The men were forced to stand on a white line while they waited to be addressed. Mungo’s hands shook slightly but he otherwise stood tall and ready. 

“Gentlemen” a man called as he made his way along the line. He was dressed in the highest ranking colour of a deep black with numerous colourful metals displayed across his chest. He wore no hat despite the sun but wore large sunglasses that reached his grey sideburns to his grey stubble. 

“Welcome to the worst hour of your life”, he repeats the catchphrase,

“you make it through this, and you can tell your mama it was worth it. You don’t,  better luck next year”.

He stops pacing in the middle, staring directly down. 

“You have one hour to get through. One hour exactly, I don’t care if you are a millisecond over, you are out. You will start with the course”, he gestures behind him, “then take a nice 5 kilometre run before cooling off by crossing the yander river. From there, you can start making your way to the finish line, hopefully in time. There will be no stopwatch, gentlemen, no warning, you will make it in time or you will not. Now you should have received your clicker. If you did not, now is the time to tell me. No? Good. Should any of you decide to whimper out that button will send a helipad to your location, and take you back to medicamp where you will have time to decide how you will do better next year”.

Coriolanus feels the anxiety but assures himself its fine. He was in good health. His stamina was excellent having walked long distances most of his life. The yander river had a strong current but was filled with rocks and overhanging branches. After that all he had to do was worry about the time. 

This assurance was soon squashed when he noticed higher offices approaching with weighted vests.

”You didn’t think it was that easy did you boys?” The commander mocked watching as the group panicked as the vest was secured tightly against them.

 It was 5kg at least. Heavy enough to knock the breath as it was latched on. As the final latch was secured. Coriolanus heard something shutter. 

“These vests are not to come off. I don’t care if you snag a tree or a tree snake finds it’s way under. You take it off it, we will know and you will be disqualified”. 

Mungo breaths heavy next to Coriolanus, huffing out harsh breaths, ready to take off. 

“All right, that’s enough talk” the man declares, reaching for his gun from his holster and taking a step out of the way. 

“See you at the finish line” he states, before the gun in fired in the air. 

The group took off, sprinting despite the weight that would soon kill. 

They first leap over cylinder obstacle  bouncing from one to the next, a quick sprint to the next where they leaped over a large hole in the ground. Up a ramp to a rope where one fell unable to support the additional weight. 

Coriolanus and Mungo didn’t stop, running on to the large wall which they climbed and sprung themselves over. 

“Lets go, my friend” Mungo shouts. 

Coriolanus wanted to tell him to conserve his breath but he was unable to spare his. 

They are met with more leaps from one cylinder to the next. 

Coriolanus guesses they are intended to shorten the contestants breaths which was working quite well. 

Next he dropped to the floor, wiggling himself under barbed wire in  competitive time. The roar of the crowd is deafening. He can’t hear Mungos gasping breaths but he could see how his chest puffed almost to the wire. 

More cylinders, another higher wall climb where they had to leap across to points lower themselves before they could land safety from the height. 

Finally, they were through. Henry had made it first, sprinting off into the forest. Coriolanus was glad to see the back of him. He had knocked Mungo every opportunity he could get, throwing his friend off balance. If it wasn’t for shear determination Mungo may have fallen and got hurt. 

“Come on”, Coriolanus gasps, urging Mungo on.

The run was silent. Only gasping breaths and birds. The crowd long behind as they made their way down the rocky path. 

Coriolanus wasn’t sure what happened to the other contestants. None of them caught up. 3 miles in, he heard a helipad fly past, he only wondered if it was one or both of them who had given up. 

The river was a glad site. Sweat poured off both of them, and their lungs burned begging to stop. Mungo fell to his knees. But began crawling towards the river. 

“It’s alright” Coriolanus gasped, “catch your breath, we have time”.

The obstacle course was maybe 10 minutes. The run he guessed about 35. 

The river would take two minutes to cross. It raged but it wasn’t wide. 

Coriolanus assessed the situation. If they just tried to swim they would be swept away. They would need to work with the current, use the boulders stuck in the river bank as much as possible. 

He finds two strong branches on the ground, passing one to Mungo.

”We have to start up stream” he directs. 

“No” Mungo huffs, ‘it will take too much time”.

”It will take longer if we fight against the current. We don’t have the strength of Henry, we can’t force our way across” 

“We have to. We don’t have time”.

”Trust me” Coriolanus demands, pushing Mungo forward, “I will get us across”.

Mungo does follow watching as the bank drifts away. 

Coriolanus sticks his branch into the mud bank, using it to anchor him across until he could reach the rock. Mungo copies closely behind. 

With the weight of the vest and the rush of the water, Coriolanus thinks he may be pulled under. Imagine doing all that he has done to die doing something so stupid and irrelevant. He thinks about reaching for his clicker but his pride doesn’t allow him to.

He pushed on until there were no more rocks to seek shelter from. The water was freezing and strong. They had to get out of it soon. 

“We are going to let the water carry us down to the bank”, Coriolanus advised, “keep pushing until you are as close as you can get”. 

Coriolanus went first, forging his way across the current. The time it took for the Current to carry him to his destination was short, he only just managed to grab a vine and pull himself to the mud bank.

Mungo stayed frozen against the rock. Unable to let go. 

Seeing Coriolanus make it, gave him courage enough to attempt. Like a dog he trailed across kicking in big ugly attempts to get close enough. 

It was clear he didn’t know how to swim. The thought didn’t cross Coriolanus mind until he saw his friend start to go under. 

Coriolanus forces his way back into the current, placing faith in the vine in his hand. Mungo was bopping in and out of the water, fighting hard to move across. His hand and shoulder is pushed back by the water but he forces himself to remain rigid until he felt the material of Mungos vest. With a hold on thick shoulder of the vest, Coriolanus pulled himself and Mungo from the water. His shoulder felt as if it was tearing from the pressure. But he was able to pull Mungo close enough so the man could gain footing and crawl himself to the shore.

They huff side by side not saying anything as they recover. Coriolanus' shoulder ached. His frantic mind kept playing him images of you and Loretta in the water which gave him a choking feeling. 

“Thank you, my friend”, Mungo finally spoke.

”Get up” Coriolanus pants, crawling to his knees himself, “.we have to go”

That took too long. Coriolanus was unable to even guess how much time they have. 

The men take off, running with new adrenaline in their system. Their pace meant they caught Henry who was walking with a broken body to the finish line. 

Hearing them behind him, invigorated him to push his body into a running pace.

Coriolanus was correct to assume that Henry used all his strength to push past the current. His pace was slow and looked painful, the pair were easily able to catch up and pass him. 

Coriolanus hears him growl as he does. It was unexpected when Coriolanus vest was grabbed and yanked back. It floored him although the pressure wasn't that great. 

Henry was on top of him in a second, reaching for the release latch of his vest.

”Some Capitol boy going to upstage me”, Henry roared. 

Coriolanus fought to keep Henry from gaining access to rip the latch up. He was almost there, it couldn’t end like this. From him, no less. 

”Pretty little, soft blooded, mamma’s boy”, Henry snapped, throwing repeated punches to Coriolanus face to distract from his defence of the latch. 

Coriolanus was nothing if not disciplined. Mungo was nothing if not loyal. 

Despite the time, Mungo ventured back seeing his friend in trouble. He tackles Henry from Coriolanus scrapping with him on the ground, allowing Coriolanus to catch his breath and wits. 

Henry was much large and stronger than Mungo, it was only a matter of time before positions were switched, leaving Mungo on the ground getting his face pounded in. 

Coriolanus picks up a rock about the size of his hand, bringing it down across Henry’s head, cutting off whatever insult he was spraying at Mungo. 

The knock was hard enough to stall him, throw him off balance but not enough to defeat. Worried for Mungo, Coriolanus kicks Henry off into the dirt, before kneeling over him and with a cry, smashing the rock one, two times against Henrys head. 

He was still breathing but his eyes shutters and his body was limp against the ground. Coriolanus reaches for his vest, throwing the rock aside and unlatches the main release. It sounds as he does. He could hear the faint chopper of the helipad as it made its course over. 

“Come on” Coriolanus demands. 

Mungo lay in similar fashion on the ground, unable to get up. 

Coriolanus reaches for him, throwing an arm around his shoulder and lifting him up and forward. 

Mungo would be finished if  he didn’t turn to help Coriolanus. Coirolanus would be disqualified if he didn’t. Mungo would finish. Coriolanus wouldn’t owe him a debt. 

“Go” Mungo groans, “Go on my friend. Leave me”.

His arms slips from Coriolanus in an attempt to aid him on. Coriolanus refused to take it, holding on tighter to his friend. 

“You go” Coriolanus chastised, “Put your foot down, come on”.

Mungo makes greater efforts to keep pace. Coriolanus hoped it would be enough to just finish in time. 

A peak of the crowd at the end began to show through the trees, a faint chatter made its way down the path. 

Coriolanus unhooks Mungo’s arm from his shoulder, pushing him forward. 

“You have to go by yourself now. They can’t see us together".

Spurred with new energy, Mungo shuffles on into the harsh light. 

The crowd cheers upon seeing him, screaming at him to keep going. There must be time on the clock. 

Mungo begins to scream too, hooting and yelling out in joy as he approaches the white line. He falls to his knees kissing the line painted on the ground as he reaches it. 

The barricades shake as the crowd rejoices in its first pass. 

Coriolanus falls over the line just as the sound buzzes through the air signaling the end of the course. 

The last contestant just makes it out of the forest when it sounds, his scream fell into the crowds. 

His whole body ached. The first thing he did was roll onto his back and yank the latch to release the weight from his body. His joints felt as if they were on fire. His shoulder especially sore form the river. 

“we did it”, Mungo screamed in Coriolanus face, giving him a little shake, “We did it”.

”Get off him”, he heard Vongurts voice demanded, “get away”.

The crowd that was forming quickly made its way on, focusing on Mungo as the Commander lent down behind Coriolanus. 

Mungo was lifted up by the crowd who threw him up in the air and caught him. 

‘My boy, my boy” Vongurt cried, lifting Coriolanus up to lean against him, “well done, son, well bloody done.” A few hard pats were given which made Coriolanus wheeze in pain. 

A gentle hand was instead placed against his head, brushing his curls from the sweat of his head. 

“Medics are coming, boy, they are coming”. Vongurt promised, “We’re so proud of you”.

It was over, Coirolanus thought, his new life could finally begin. He pictured you at the breakfast table, dressed in a soft, white lacy robe, drinking coffee with a soft smile on your lips as he entered the room. Loretta next to you with a plate of pancakes as tall as her. 

He could taste the blood as he smiled. 

He refused to stay the hospital. He was patched up and out of there. Word was received that Mungo was okay. No worse off than him. 

it was welcomed news. Commander Vongurt avoided his duties, telling the officials that they would have to entertain themselves as he needed to celebrate with his son. 

Vongurt had a half hearted response to try to convince Coriolanus to stay a night in hospital after what his body just went through. But it was mainly for the presence of the doctor. His hand was around his keys in his pocket as he gave his speech and his back turned as soon as he finished with “But you’re a free man. An officer now, who can do as he pleases”. 

Coriolanus follows him out of the building and into the car, Vongurt was more pleased then he was. 

He holds the horn as he approaches the house, Mrs Vongurt and Loretta rush out, some servants peer through the windows to see what the commotion was about. 

Mrs Vongurt cheers, jumping and screaming in the doorway. Loretta joins because it looked fun. 

‘My darling!” Mrs Vongurt shouts, “I knew you could do it, We all did”.

She wraps her arms around him, bringing him close. 

“First attempt to!” She boasts, “I can’t wait to tell my Capitol friends”. 

“Good work”, Loretta praises. You said it to her constantly, It was sweet she offered it back to him now.

”Thanks Lo”, he ruffles her hair gently despite the pain in his shoulder that it took to raise it. 

“Come in, rest”Mrs Vongurt demands, “my god your face. Your beautiful face”.

“Y/n!!” She screams down the hall. 

“Where is she?” Coriolanus asks. 

“Tv room” Loretta answers, “I’ll show you”.

 She sprints down, her bare feet slapping against the polished wood as she doges expensive statutes and flower vases. 

The group follow the child to the room. Coriolanus was slow and struggled to force his body forward. 

“Do you want a shower, dear? Something to eat or drink?” Mrs Vongurt asks. 

The only thing he wanted was to reach you so he denies and continues on. 

You sat on the green sofa, hand clasped and feet together.

”Y/n” Mr Vongurt spoke in a disappointed tone, “Come see to Coriolanus”.

”No” Coriolanus commands, “stay right there”.

He pushes away from the Vongurts, falling down on the couch on top of you where he forced his head onto your lap. He sighs deeply, shutting his eyes and letting his body relax for the first time in months. 

“Loretta, I’ll turn on the cartoons for you. Pass me the remote”, Coriolanus says reaching his hand out. 

Little feet rush to get it and pass it over to Coriolanus hand. 

He manages to get one eye open to work the tv to the kids channel.

”That one” Loreeta points to the screen. 

He puts it on, letting the remote drop to the floor as his body shuts down. 

“Yn, I’ll get some soothing cream for you” Mrs Vongurt announces, “you can rub it on Coriolanus back”. 

“Yeah”, he agrees, his head half pressed against your lap.

You make no sound as Loretta settles in front of the TV and Mrs Vongurt runs to retrieve the cream. 

Mr Vongurt is called off by a servant for a phone call, and the cream is brought by one of your friends who avoids eye contact with you, leaving you with a quiet room. 

He doesn’t take his head off you, nor does he open his eyes as he unbuttons his uniform, dropping it to the floor. 

You don’t speak as you apply the cream to his skin. There were blades of grass and mud hidden under his uniform and pressed against his back. You can see the Redding of his back where it has been irritated by nature or force. 

Purple bruises littered his torso and arms in odd spots. They matched his face. The left side of his head had been split open when Henry tackled him to the ground. Medical tape held the angry, harsh lines together. His cheekbone was bruised from repeated force, and eye was near swollen shut. 

You were careful with applying the cream, never adding too much pressure to his battered body. He moans when you first touch him but his pleasure turns to a hiss of pain as you reach his ribs.

You withdraw instantly.

”Sorry”

”My shoulders” he informs half heartily pointing in the direction without lifting his head.  

You rework his shoulders, adding a decent amount of pressure to work his tightened mussels. 

“Thank you, sweetheart”, he sighs. 

You feel his body weight drop into you as he relaxes. His breathing slows and the grip his hand had on your knee slowly loosened. 

Lorreta sat engrossed in the TV. You hoped she would turn to see you as you continue to massage him. 

Fifteen minutes pass, your hands begin to cramp. You couldn’t take this feeling much longer. The urge to get Loretta out of the room became too great. 

You were sure he was asleep. He was too heavy, his breath too light. So you shift slowly and carefully, trying to free yourself. 

He jolts awake from your effort. His arms reach out wrapping around your waist to keep you there. His head lifts to look at you with dazed and sleepy eyes. 

“Hm sorry”, he mutters, Lifting himself off you. 

Coriolanus throws his arm across his body, stretching it out. “That feels better”, he comments, “thank you”.

He reaches for his uniform on the floor, throwing it back on. 

“Was it as bad as they say?”, you ask him. 

Coriolanus nods, “I wouldn’t say it was the worst hour of my life, but definitely top ten”.

”What was then?”, you push. You find it hard to imagine that he faced much adversely in the Capitol. 

He smiles at tight smile in response, choosing to focus on his buttons. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that”, you noted, shocked it even came from your mouth. 

“No”, Coriolanus defends, “it’s fine. I just prefer to focus on the future. That’s all”.

His hand reaches for yours, stopping them from twisting in your lap and leans forward to place a kiss on your lips. 

“You never have to be sorry for anything”.

”shhhhhhhh” Loretta demands, turning back with an angry face. The talk was interfering with her movie. 

“Sorry Lo”, Coriolanus laughs.

You cringe at the nickname. He was getting too familiar. Too close. 

“Why don’t you take a bath. Mr Vongurt has some healing bath salts” you try to direct him, “I could ask if you could borrow some”.

”Can you run it for me?” He asks quickly. 

You nod. If he was in the bath, he was far away from Lorretta so you didn’t mind. 

You rise from the couch and he mirrors you, again taking your waist in a hold as if you would bolt. 

”I’ll have to see if it is acceptable”, you state, “I am not sure what Mrs Vongurt did with the clothes she brought you. You will have to ask a servant”.

You couldn’t bear asking one of your colleagues. You slightly begged he wouldn’t ask you too. 

“Okay”, he whispers. Such a large man to be directed by a child. 

“I’ll meet you in our bedroom”, his words shot through your already shaky exterior. “Ten minutes. Dont make me come find you”, he begs. 

You nod to let him know you understood, pulling his arms from around you which he seemed hesitant to release you from. He eventually does, following you out of the room and going his separate way to find someone to help.

You check Mr Vongurts office first to find it empty. Your next stop to the sitting room proved more fruitful.

”Y/n, where Coriolanus, dear?”, Mrs Vongurt asked.

”He is taking a bath. I was wondering if he would be able to use some of Mr Vongurts healing salts?”, you state.

The Vongurts smile wide, looking at each other in pure hope. 

“Of course”, Mr Vongurt assures, “whatever he needs. Whatever both of you need”.

This was no different to your normal role, you assured yourself, he was a guest in this household. You had drawn baths for guests before. 

”So glad to see you two finally getting along”, Mrs Vongurt agrees, “if there’s anything we can do, anything at all just let us know”.

You let out a whispered thank you before you take your leave. 

The room is empty. You are grateful, hoping to have his bath drawn before he even enters the room. 

The tub is large however, it only gets half way before he enters, holding a pile of clothes. 

“Hey”, he breaths, placing the clothes on the bed, “Good thing shopping is one of her specialties”. 

You grimace at him. Trying your best to not upset him.

”Is there anything else I can do for you”, a standard response. One you offered used to excuse yourself. 

“Dont talk like that. You didn’t do that because you are a servant”, he demands.

”Of course not” you offer, “I’ll leave you to soak”.

”Hey, wait a second. Y/n, this is the biggest moment of my life, I don’t want to spend it arguing with you”.

”I wasn’t arguing,sir”, you defend. 

His hand latched out to your jaw as you said it in a painful hold. Your hands wrap around his wrist to try and elevate the pressure. 

“I am sorry, I am sorry”, you gasp, “Coriolanus, please”.

He releases you as fast as he strikes. 

“Are you alright?” He sighs, “I am sorry. Just don’t call me sir, or officer, or Mr Snow, or anything that separates us. 

“I won’t” you quiver. 

He reaches back out, his touch gentle this time, and rubs the side of your jaw. 

“I am sorry”, he says. 

You could have laughed at him but you contained it. This was the true self. He could mask it in front of the Vongurts, he could trick a child, but you saw him for what he was; a capitol elitist who would condemn you to a life of servitude and then expect to be thanked for it. 

At least your parents had the guts to fight back. You would go to the grave a coward. 

TAGLIST:

@thaleleah

@grandfartvoid

@dragonsandtitties

@piscesbae7

@milesdrift

@miaasmf

@sassybearfire

@mrs-simonriley

@edb954

@bluerskiees

@hiatuswhore

@captainlunaxmen

@lookclosernow

@katnipwintergreen

@qardasngan

@qardasngan

[robinasnyder]

Someday

Written for @swpromptsandasks

Thought it would be fun to write our Jedi and Clone OCs having a hang out.

It had started out as a fairly simple suggestion.

“We should be friends because our boys are friends and it’ll be easier for them to have play dates if they can use us as the excuse,” Jaylah had said, grinning broadly while Knight Moddy looked at her like she’d lost her mind. They’d at least known of each other for a while, but never crossed paths naturally. Knight Moddy was one of the few people Jay didn’t immediately grab and hug, but that was for Moddy’s comfort, not Jay’s. Jay was tactile as they came.

“You think this is a good idea?” Moddy asked.

Jay had grinned out her brightest smile. “What could go wrong?”

Truthfully, Jay knew a lot could go wrong. But she was stubborn and had planned the ‘date’ as if all would go well.

Moddy was small, with what Jaylah called fuzzy blonde hair. She was fairly pale (looking even more so next to Jaylah’s warm brown skin), with a set of scars across one eye, leaving it white and unseeing. The other eye was a fiery green that had always intrigued Jaylah, though Moddy’s prohibition on touch had made Jaylah stay away.

Jaylah was taller. She was taller than her troopers by a full two inches. She was slender, but hard with muscle from years of training. Her hair was thick and she like many of the Mousintaka kept it in tight braids. Mousintaka were humanoids who grew feathered whiskers as well as hair. The whiskers were bendy and strong, but like lekku hurt terribly if they were injured. Braiding and hair wrapping protected the whiskers, and the white feathers matched the natural white hair of the people.

Jaylah was two generations removed from Mousinta and her grandfather apparently had bright red hair. She didn’t have the feathers, and her hair was a red-brown, but she kept the tradition of braiding. Even braided, the whiskers were sensitive to the force and the universe around them. Mousintaka felt very strongly.

They picked Moddy’s rooms to meet in, which Strata told Jay Snow had approved of. Strata had been very happy, and Jay wouldn’t deny him anything if she could help it. But war and circumstances made it so Strata barely got anything he wanted.

But Snow was Strata’s friend. Outside of the 1287th, Strata rarely got a chance to interact with other Clones much. The 1287th tended to be field agents. They didn’t see the action that the 212th or the 501st did, but they often held the line while units transitioned in and out. As Strata said, the 1287th was family, but friends were different.

It didn’t help that Strata was a Captain. Being an officer put you above those in your command. He wasn’t alone. Grades was his Commander and Jaylah was his General. But that was different too. Their very silent marriage had assured to that. They were friends and lovers and brothers in arms. But Strata deserved friends outside of them.

So Jaylah was determined to make this work no matter how weird or awkward it would be.

At least that had been the plan. Jedi Knight Jaylah Kryze was a bombastic woman, but she knew the value of silence. Her stealth kills were points to that. But silence was for work. She never really indulged in it outside of that. So it surprised her how content she felt there on Moddy’s couch.

They weren’t not talking per say, but it wasn’t really a full conversation. Strata had picked a couple of models from a toy store, thinking that it would be slightly less destructive than the types of pranks and mischief he and Snow favored. But they were so bad at it that it was hilarious to watch. Both woman would laughed and whisper some comment and munch on the popcorn Moddy provided, watching their boys with rapt attention as if they were the most interesting holodrama.

Neither woman were touching. The bowl of popcorn was between them. But they were close, and that made Jay’s heart swell. It helped that Grades was leaning against her shoulder, and she could occasionally get in a little head rub.

Strata and Snow painted quite a picture. Strata had a youth to him, a lot in his smile, which always held trouble. He had twisting tattoos on his face, more organic in design than the tech-based tattoos a lot of his brothers chose. Both wrapped from his temple, near his eyes and down to the apples of his cheeks. His hair was long and worn with about six plaited braids. They were a nod to his General as were the orange and purple threads. The one silver clip was for Grades. Neither of the other two wore outward signs of their marriage.  

Snow was older, with pure white hair and bright gold eyes. Jaylah has seen how serious and untouchable Snow could look in the field. But at home, with only his Knight and his friend, Snow melted. He looked at Strata with warmth and a tiny bit of awe. The same awe Strata returned in his gaze.

“They’re like podlings,” Grades whispered into Jaylah’s ear. Jaylah grinned. Of the three clones, Grades was the oldest. He’d gone out on one of the first missions post Geonosis. His entire unit but him and died in a literal fire fight. The left side of his face had burn scars. Part of his hair wouldn’t grow back because of it, so he kept his hair shaved. Jaylah loved petting his shiny head.

“What did he say?” Moddy whispered on her other side.

“They act like podlings,” Jaylah whispered back.

Moddy started to giggle. Jay was going to blame the giggling and not that she hadn’t whispered quietly enough for why Snow whipped his head around and looked at them

“It see it’s snuggle time,” Snow announced gravely. Jay could practically feel Grades roll his eyes. They’d been on the sofa like that for over an hour. Grades had even finished the first datapad he’d brought with him.

“Oh, I wanna be a part of snuggle time!” Strata said. He jumped up from the table and practically bounced over to them. He sprawled himself across Grades and Jay, laying his head in Jay’s lap, with most of his body over Grades’ legs.

“You’re too big to be a lothkitten,” Grades grumbled, but he started rubbing Strata’s back instantly. Strata gave his best imitation of purr, which was admittedly pretty bad.

Jay shook her head and started to pet Strata’s hair. Out of the corner of her eyes she caught movement and turned her head enough to get a good look. Snow had slipped away and returned with a big fluffy blanket. He wrapped it around Moddy before he settled on the sofa next to her. She snuggled right into him like she belonged there, her head pressed against his shoulder. Snow’s hand found her hair, petting and stroking.

“Need me to hand you popcorn?” Jay offered.

“Only if you want to put in my mouth,” Moddy said with a small laugh.

“You are a bit of a furry burrito,” Jay teased. She settled back in her seat and let all tension drain out of her body. They weren’t going to talk about whatever they had between their boys. It wasn’t safe to do so.

‘Some day’, she promised herself. ‘Some day this will be okay.’

[introverted-character-town]

Prepare for a bunch of other characters that belong to @blargclarg

[hidden-poet]

The Officer; Part 3

THE OFFICER

Summary: Coriolanus goes to District 2 for officer training, as a gap year before returning to the Capitol to study under Dr Gaul. There he finds you. Your devotion to your little cousin, reminds him of the only love he has ever known.

warnings: Dead Dove do not eat, stalking, emotional abuse, obsession, Coryo being de lu lu, power imbalance.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Word count: 10, 079

With officer assessment closing in, Coriolanus found himself busier than ever. No matter how early he started, no matter how much he did, others closed in on his points. The time spent at your house put him behind. While other earned double points for late night patrol, he sat at your kitchen table with little welcome.

With the capitol presents under his arm, he thought he might get at least a smile but you greeted him with your usual scrowl, stepping reluctantly out of his way. 

He kisses your cheek as he enters but his main focus was on Loretta at the table. 

She always perked up upon seeing him. Coriolanus always had a treat for her. He unboxes the doll as he walked towards her, reaching the porcelain doll out and using it to pretend to place a kiss on Loretta round cheek. 

The child squealed, taking the doll into her hands and petting the fake blonde hair.

Coriolanus takes a seat next to her, revealing in the joy he could bring at least one of you. 

“Do you like her?”. He asked Loretta.

”Yes!”, Loretta praised, hugging the doll to her chest. He looks back to you with a grin, gloating in his success. Your eyes are trained on Loretta. He could tell by your silence that you were happy he brought the toy, no matter how you complain.

he reaches down into his bag, pulling out your present and holding it out for you.

You don’t take it. Just stare at him in a curious gaze. Coriolanus shakes the box at you, urging you to take it. 

Loretta sits up in her chair when you do, wanting to get a better view. 

“What Is it?” Loretta asked. 

With the ribbon off you could open the lid off to reveal the gold bracelet which you show to Loretta.

Lorreta lets out a sound of approval, leaning over the table to get a better look. 

You were close enough for Coriolanus to take the box from you. His hand uncloses your wrist and tugs you closer to him so he could place the bracelet to its rightful place on your wrist. 

“Will I get one?” Loretta asks him. 

Coriolanus laughs, but you don’t find it the least bit funny. 

“Yes”, Coriolanus confirms, he reaches out to stroke the young girls face which you quickly intercept, knocking his hand away and picking Loretta up out of her chair, 

“Loretta, go play”, you command. 

The young girl flicks herself out of your hold over the Coriolanus, wrapping her smalll body around him. He leans down into her, giving her a squeeze before you managed to separate them and push Loretta in the right direction. 

You close the door to her playroom before turning back to the table with the bracelet off your wrist. You avoid his eyes as you jam the bracelet back into its box and hastily tie the Ribbon back up. 

“You are turning her into a spoiled girl” you criticise him.

”Why shouldn’t she be spoiled?” Coriolanus contends. 

You place the box in front of him

”You don’t like it?”, he wonders. 

You turn from him without answer, going back to check on the dinner in the oven. 

“I can exchange it for something else”, he offers, following you too closely. 

“Stop” you exasperated, “Just stop.”

”what?’’ Coriolanus complains. He was getting sick of having to constantly read your mind, “what’s wrong now?”

”Just stop everything. Stop coming around. I don’t want you around Loretta”.

”You think I would hurt Loretta?” He gasps offended. 

He snatches the spoon out of your hand to gain your full attention. 

“Have you lost your mind?”.

You were over protective of her, he understood that. But your claims were baseless and you made large leaps to paint Coriolanus as the bad guy. 

“I want you to stop coming around. It doesn’t matter how many gifts you bring. I won’t like you. You’re dangerous, deranged. I don’t want you here”. 

Coriolanus rolls his eyes. How many more times will he have to prove himself to you? He pushes off the bench, moving a safe distance away. 

”No” you scold him, “Don’t ignore me. Listen to me”. 

“I am listening to you. Are you listening to you? Don’t buy me gifts, don’t work to provide me and my cousin a better life, don’t love me”.

”This isn’t love, and we were doing just fine before you”. 

The pot behind you boils over but you pay it no mind. Coriolanus picks up a worn biscuit tin, opening it to find it empty. 

”Hm, looks like it”. He puts the tin back, leaning backwards on the counter, gazing down upon you. 

“I’ve ordered Loretta some school shoes”, he states, “The child should at least have a pair that fit her”. 

“Her shoes are fine”, you don’t back down. 

“Don’t you want more for her? More for yourself”, he asks. 

You shake your head no, “Not from you”. 

“I would hate to go back to the Capitol and 6 years from now hear that Little Loretta Harrison was chosen as a tribute”.

”6 years is a long time. The games could be finished by then”. 

He laughs at you. Always looking for the good that was never going to come. 

“It won’t be”, he assumes you, pushing off the counter to come closer so he could hold you. You step back into the stove, the bubbling water jumps as you knock into its base and spills across your hand. 

Coriolanus is quick to move you to the sink, throwing on the tap and moving your hand under the cool water.

”Are you alright?”, he asks. You don’t answer him and he doesn’t stick around for the answer, going back to turn off the stove to stop the boiling water. 

He comes back standing too close behind you. He nestles up, wrapping an arm around your midsection and holding you hand under the water as if you would try and take it away. 

He kisses your shoulder before resting his chin on it. 

“Do you have any burn cream?”, he asks you. 

“No”, you attempt to pull your hand back but he forces it to remain under the water, “it’s fine. It’s not that bad”. 

It was only a small amount of water that splashed you. It left the back of your hand, red and tender but it would heal itself within a few days. 

“Just leave it there. The water will help the pain”, he commands. 

“I have to finish dinner”, you tell him, pushing back against him. Your good hand turns off the tap, but Coriolanus flicks it back on again. 

“I’ll finish dinner. Just stay there”. He releases you to follow through his promise. 

You turn the tap off again, causing him to turn back. 

“Put your hand back under the water”, he commands, stirring the rice in the pot. 

You cross to take the spoon out his hand, edging him out of the kitchen. 

He looks to say something to you but Loretta pops her head out of the playroom. 

“Is dinner ready?”, she asks. 

“Almost”, you answer, “come set the table”. 

Coriolanus helps the child in silence. Dinner is much the same. You ignore his existence, only talking to Loretta when necessary.

He helps you clear the table. While you give Loretta a bath, he does the dishes. 

You help Loretta with homework later while Coriolanus does his own study. He is insistent that you sit at the table with him. Even though you claim the talking will interfere with his own work. 

8 O’clock rolls around. Bed time for Loretta, and the only time he can get you to himself. He doesn’t leave although you try to stronghold him into it. 

He continues to study while he waits. It made the time pass easily, when you do eventually come out, you had your usual worried expression on. 

He jumps out of his chair, taking you into his arms and tries to kiss the look away. 

“Don’t” you whisper, worried to wake Loretta to the sight of this, “get off”.

You manage to escape his hold but he catches up quickly from behind. He catches you in a strong hold, pressing your back against him, and lifting your chin up for ease of the kiss. 

He moves with you as you stumble forward, letting you lead the way. You can’t see with his grip on your chin, only submit to the need to run. 

“Wait”, you tell him when his lips were off yours but he returns moments later. His kisses leave you breathless, one after another in a repetitive fashion. 

You hadn’t realised you were in the living room until you were pushed to the couch. Coriolanus lands on top, cementing his right hand against your face to still you as he litters kisses.

”Wait, wait, stop”, you wanted to scream and shout, but Loretta was asleep ten feet away.

”Do you want to continue our conversation from this afternoon?”, he asks you between a kiss. 

His kisses fan out to your chest, just above the neckline of your dress. 

He forces himself between your legs, bringing your left leg up to his hip. You didn’t want to leave it there so he wedges your leg between his body weight and the couch. 

“I love you so much. You are so perfect. I just want the best for you and Loretta. Does that make me a bad guy?”, he complains. 

“This makes you the bad guy”, you claim. 

“Loving you?”.

You take the opportunity to cross your arms on your chest, shielding yourself from him. 

He lifts his torso off you, creating space so you could cup your face in both hands. 

“You have no idea how much I want you. How much I want to protect you from everything. If you would just let me, I could make you so happy. Both of you. I think I have proven myself enough for you to trust me”.

He lowers himself down once more on top of you, laying his forearm across your crossed arms, pinning them to your chest. 

His other hand goes under your dress, running his fingers gently up your leg. 

“Just let your walls down. You might find not everyone is out to get you”.

“Get off”, you demand. You wanted to cry and scream but your mind was on your sleeping cousin. 

His finger itches up to the band of your underwear, it hooks under but he makes no further move. 

“I want you to know I would never hurt you”, he promises. His breath becomes shallow against your ear.

”I just want you to be happy but it’s proven to be quite difficult”.

”Please get off me”, you quiver. Your eyes well with tears, causing your body to hiccup under him. 

“No”, he groans, resting his head against your shoulder, “No, don’t do that”.

”we’re just talking”, he confirms, “what’s your favourite colour?”

You answer him.

”Hm favourite animal?”. He unhooks his finger from your underwear, shifting to the side off you but keeping his head on your shoulder. 

You answer him again. Feeling better that he is too tired for sex. 

You look at him beside you with his eyes closed from exhaustion.

”Food?”.

You answer his relentless questions with one word, truthful answers until sleep overcomes him and he asks no more. 

You don’t move for ten minutes, afraid he would wake up from your movements. You start with your shoulder, gently rolling it until his head was transferred to the couch. 

Only after that success do you move his arm from off you and slide free. 

You debate waking him so he could leave but he was safest asleep. Instead you pull a spare blanket from the cupboard to put over him so he doesn’t wake from the cold. Next you set an old alarm clock to the time Commander Vongurt normally wakes, and set it on the living room table beside him. 

His bag hung on the back of the kitchen chair. With Coriolanus taken care of, you move to your motive, taking out all the belongings found within until you found the spare key you knew he had. 

You repackage his school books and pencil case. A letter falls out as you shuffle the books back. You knew he went to the post office to collect the presents, you didn’t think anyone would send him anything.

Despite your better judgement, you sit at the table and pull the letter from its envelope.

It spoke of how much he was missed back home. ‘Grandma’am’s health was improving but her body struggled in her old age. The writer claimed despite this, Grand’ma’am would be at his graduation. Hell would freeze before she would miss it, they promised. 

You freeze at the end paragraph as it alludes to you. The letter spoke of Grandma’am excitement to meet Lorretta. How despite her not being Snow blood, Grandma’am would use her as practice for the real thing. It felt, the reader wrote, as if the new addition to the family felt as if the past was really behind them. The writer admits while initially unpleased to hear of the news of the district girl, after some thought, they confirm they are now in full support. They worry about his age and the commitment he was about to make, but the writer confirms Coriolanus always knew what he wanted, even from a young age.

This draws the conclusion this was his beloved cousin. Do you love Loretta this much, that you would overlook this insane behaviour?

Your name spelt out on paper made you want to throw up. You seem nice, she confirms, a good fit for him and this family. She was pleased to have you and Loretta keep him grounded while he studied under Dr Gaul. A reminder of the dark days, and to always choose to be good. 

She reminds him how much she misses him, before she begins to talk about restoring their house, and her new job. You skip to the end, she doesn’t mention you again but wishes Coirolanus the best of luck as officer assessment nears, and warns him to write her back soon. 

You place the pages back and shove the envelope back in his bag. Your mind ticks with ways to end this. Telling him straight doesn’t work, the Vongurts were no help, Loretta seemed to invite him. You have the urge to cry again as you ready the house for bed, but as you hold Loretta in your arms, you know you must stay strong and act smart. 

Coriolanus sleeps through the night, receiving an awful wake up from the old alarm clock. 

He shuts it off quickly with a groan. He shouldn’t have slept. Now he was late, and points would be deducted. You were only trying to be nice, he didn’t blame you, but he missed breakfast and would get an earful from his commanding officer when he arrived half way through class. 

He rubs his tired eyes, getting up from the couch and moving to your bedroom. His plan was to kiss you and Loretta and to leave you sleeping but your room was empty. 

Did your day normally start so early? He wondered. School didn’t start until 8:30. It would make no sense to leave now. What were you doing?

He looks around for a note that you may have left but found nothing of the sort. He leaves one for you, telling you he wont be back tonight as he had to catch up on work. In his search for a note pad, he came across a small picture. Loretta was maybe 2 in the photo, all dressed in white with pigtails. The picture had caught her half babbling while you sat in a wooden chair, and held her on your knee with a bright smile. 

It was a professional photo and would have been quite expensive here in the district. Given the age, it must have been taken the first year you received custody. He wondered why you chose the expense. You were normally quite frugal. It was the begging, he supposed, of your new life. When he was back in the Capitol, he decided to make it an annual tradition. Watch his family grow in photographs. 

He pockets the photo of his girls, and rushes out the door with his book back slung over his shoulder. 

Coriolanus sits at the living room table. You sit beside him, cutting out and making your outfits. Loretta sat next to you, colouring in with her porcelain doll on her lap. 

“Can I have a lolly from the lolly jar?” Loretta begs.

”No”, was your answer without looking up at her pouting face. 

The usual whine came. Then the negotiations. She ate all her dinner, did all her chores, it wasn’t fair. 

“Is it Friday?”, you ask her, now gazing up at the child in a motherly stare, “No, it’s not. We have our treats on Friday”.

He hated that there was a special day of the week. Every day should be a day where you have what you want. 

”Let her have a treat”, he barters with you, “I’ll bring some more on Friday”. 

Loretta jumps up, rushing to the kitchen to collect the jar. 

You glare at him but quickly swallow your contempt.

“Can I ask you a question?”

”Yes”, he confirms, “anything”.

”Do you come from a rich family?”, you pry, “Officer make fine wages but I don’t know know one who can afford all these Capitol gifts”.

You pick up Loretta dolls, trying to tame the hair that had frayed. 

He thinks about telling you the whole truth for a moment. But it was too complicated and irrelevant.

”Yes”, he answers. 

“And you’re here?” You continue to push, “by choice?”

Coriolanus puts down his pencil, resting his arm on his propped up knee in a relaxed manner. 

“Yes”, he answers again. 

”Why? I know your family is dead. Mr Vongurt told me”, you admit, “There’s no one had home worth staying for?”

Coriolanus nods unshaken, “My parents died during the war like yours. I only have my cousin and my grandmother left. You have no idea how important they are to me. They are worth staying for- returning for. But I need to prove  to myself that there’s nothing I can’t overcome. I am not some pampered rich kid that people seem to think I am. I can endure, and I can overcome”. 

Loretta bounces back with the lollly, sucking on it loudly as she sits. 

“I am sorry. I don’t mean to pry. I was just curious”. You pick back up your scissors and take up your craft again. 

“There is nothing in my life that is a secret to you. If you have a question, feel free to ask, but don’t question my loyalty to my family”. 

He reaches out to you, his fingers brushing against the back of your hand before you jump up, claiming you were going to make tea. 

Coriolanus sighs watching you go. His focus drifts to Loretta. She always chewed on the right side of her mouth, he observed. 

She also very rarely laid on her left side, 

“You know”, Coriolanus whispers, “That lolly you are eating was designed to be chewed on the left. Tastes better”.

Coriolanus points to the left in case she didn’t know the difference yet. The Little girl tries it, but winces upon her first bite. 

She moves it back over to her right and tries to play her reaction off. 

“That’s alright. I like it more on this side”. She dismisses.  

He gently runs his hand down the side of her face, getting up to let you know of his observation. 

You are hostile as he approaches. 

“No”, you state, fasten the latch on the lolly jar, “she can’t have another one”.

You turn from him with the jar, shoving it back in the pantry. 

“Grandma’am may have left you have as many as you like but-“ you scold. 

“Wait Grandma’am?”, he interrupts, shocked, “How did you know I call her that?”

You freeze realising you had done something very stupid. 

”You said it just before”.

”No”, Coriolanus refutes, “I said grandmother”. 

You push the jar back in and slam the door shut to throw him off guard. 

“No, you said Grandma’am, how else would I know that name”.

Coriolanus second guesses himself. Maybe he did say the childish nickname. He was normally so careful to present a more polished version of himself. 

“It’s a sweet”, he returns back to the original argument and you sigh out in relief, “It wont kill her’, 

“She’s going to learn she can get whatever she wants, whenever she wants and it’s not true. There are rules here in district 2, and punishments for not following them. We are on a single wage, which has been cut thanks to you, I don’t want her to be disappointed on the come down”.

Coriolanus laughs softly, trapping you against him with an arm around your waist, and a hand against your face. He decided not to notify you of his find. He will deal with it himself rather than put another thing on your plate. 

“I told you I will take care of you. You’ll work only the hours to keep the Vongurts satisfied and I will take care of the rest. I’ll keep the lolly jar topped up”, he declares with a kiss. 

Coriolanus rushes through his day. Finishing course work and chores before all his colleagues. 

When he has a purpose, Coriolanus was surprised what he could push his body to do. He skips lunch, handing his work and ID card to swipe for roll call for the next class to Mungo so they wouldn’t deduct points. The day would still put him behind but he would worry about it later. 

He walks the 40 minutes to the school yard, watching as the children play during lunch. Only one male teacher was on duty to watch them as they swung on the monkey bars and chased each other with sticks. 

He wasn’t sure how much attention the teacher was paying to anything as he managed to cross the yard without attention. He had to clear his throat for the man to look up.

”Officer!”, the teacher straightened up with a salute. “How can I be of service?”.

”I am looking for Loretta Harrison” Coriolanus confirms. 

“Loretta”, the teacher repeats back with dismay, “Why she’s only a child. Why would you want her?”.

”That’s not your concern”, he dismisses. 

“No, no! Of course not. But you must understand my questioning, sir”, the man stammered, “Did you want me to call her care giver? she can be here within 15 minutes”.

”No, I want you to collect Loretta”, Coriolanus demands. 

“Yes, sir”, the man relents. He enlists the help of the other children before Loretta comes bouncing over to Coriolanus. 

“What are you doing here?”, Loretta questions. 

“Picking you up”, Coriolanus answers, he keeps a hand on her head, turning towards the gapping teacher. 

“When her cousin comes this afternoon you can tell her Loretta was picked up by Coriolanus Snow”.   

The teacher nods, with a “yes, sir”, he turns collecting the children and rounding them back inside despite the protests. 

“Come on little duck”, Coriolanus tried to move the child with a guiding hand on her head but she refuses to move.

”I don’t think I am meant to go with you. I’ll be in trouble”.

”No you won’t”, he promises, crouching down to be eye level with her. 

“Y/n says not to trust you. That you only pretend to be my friend”, Loretta confesses. 

Coriolanus lets out a deep sigh. He reaches out to take her arms into his hands in a comforting manner. 

“Your cousin is confused. She worries about you. But I can assure you, I am your friend, you can trust me, and you won’t be in trouble for being my friend too. Okay?”.

The little girl nods either from understanding and acceptance or from just plain confusion. Still it was enough for Coriolanus to rise. 

“Come on, darling”, he calls to Loretta, taking her hand to lead her towards the path into town. 

“Where are we going?” She rightly asks. 

“We are going to the dentist, and if you’re good we’ll go to the sweet shop after”, Coriolanus answers. 

He feels her weight in his hold as she jumps in joy at the news.

”What can I have?”.

”Anything you want”, he assures. 

The girl was delighted to arrive at the dentist. Despite the long walk, she bounced in the waiting room. The sooner it was over, the sooner she was sitting at the sweets counter shop.

She spoke of what she was going to get, readily changing her mind as she went. Coriolanus sat patiently listening to her until his name was called. 

Only then does he interrupt her for the Dentist. 

“Will it hurt?”, she asks as Coriolanus lifts her into the chair.

”No, darling. He’s going to try and make your sore tooth go away”.

He could imagine how scared Lorreta would be in the sanctioned white room with the professional looking man all dressed in white and terribly unfriendly. All without you. He was sure she was more scared than she let on.

He gently rubs her arm in comfort, laying her back so the doctor could begin his work.

He holds her little hand as the doctor prodded in her mouth. Her fingers squeeze around his as the doctor hits the sore spots. 

A terrible feeling overcomes him.The poor little darling. He was determined, now more than ever, to take over the role of protector and provider. 

The doctor is loud in his disapproval, which didn’t help. 

“She needs fillings”, the Doctor confirms, “Which wont be cheap”.

Money was no issue but he supposed it would be for most officers. 

“Whatever she needs”, Coriolanus assures, “can you fix her sore tooth?”

”Yes”, was the Doctors short, curt reply, “open wider”.

Loreeta tries but her small jaw could only unhinge so much. 

Coriolanus couldn’t wait to get back to the Capital where he could provide regular checkups for Loretta and you from friendly, doctors. But for now the man would have to do. 

Half an hour passes before the doctor announced he was done and leaves the room, telling Coriolanus to square his debt with reception. 

Loretta bites down on her tooth in loud chomps, seemingly amazed when it doesn’t bring her pain anymore. 

“WOW”, she exclaimed, “can we go now?”

Lorretta leaped out of her seat, despite its height and takes Coriolanus’s hand. 

“All done” he assures affectionately. 

Seeing how close the girl has grown to Coriolanus, surely it would be hard to deny him now. Everybody in your life loved Coriolanus, you would be the odd one out, and follow suit. He was so close to having it all, his stomach flipped just thinking out it. 

He pays the very large bill at reception while Lorretta boasts to the old lady behind the counter that they were going to the sweet shop next. 

The walk wasn’t so far to the shop, Loretta held his hand the entire way. Only releasing him to bounce around the shop and look at her options. 

He brought some sweet gums for you while he waited patiently for Lorretta to choose. He pounders fatherhood while watching her. He was good at it, he summarized. Better than his father was. 

Still the hard years were in front of him. A climb to presidency was a steep hill. Like everything he does, he begins to plan out the best time to start a family of his own. He missed out on Lorrettas baby years. He wanted to be around for the next one which ruled out his years of university. Maybe when he gained a seat on the council, he could begin to try for his first. People looked kindly at a family man, it would help to gain support.

Lorreta showed him two small lollies, begging him to let her have both due to their size. He assured her she could, and have an ice cream. 

Children were easy, he thought to himself. Buy them things, keep them out of harms way. You were difficult. You wanted more than that but he couldn’t figure out what. 

“So what does your cousin like?”, Coriolanus asks innocently, taking a scoop with his small spoon. 

Loretta shugs, too interested in her ice cream. 

“Lots of things”, she unhelpfully replied. 

“Like?” Coriolanus pushes. 

Loreeta shugs again, “Hugs and kisses. She gives me lots”.

Coriolanus scoffs, was that true? You never seemed to like it when he did it. 

“What gifts do you think she would like?”.

You didn’t like the bracelet despite your love for fashion. You were so closed off, Coirolanus wasn’t sure what you liked. 

“Ah, she likes the gifts I give her”.

”Which are?”.

”My drawings”.

Seeing that the conversation was a bit too advanced for a child of Loreetas age, he switches topics to yes and no questions. 

“Oh”, he exclaims, “yes, she’s shown me”, he lies. 

He allows a pause before continuing as he could see she was getting irritated at the interruption to her ice cream. 

“Has any other man been around like me?”.

” Commander Vongurt”, she answers, 

“No”, he sighs, “I mean, bring presents, hang around the house, touch your cousin like I do?. Boyfriend, girlfriend stuff, do you know what that means?”.

Loreeta looks at him like he was an idiot. Her little eyes, gazing at him from behind her ice cream. 

“I know. I am not a baby”, Loretta bites. 

“No, no, of course not. So have they been around?”.

”No”, Loretta says, going back to her ice cream, “you’re the first”.

Coriolanus lets out a sigh of relief, pushing his ice cream away from him. 

“I don’t think she likes you very much though”, Loretta admits. 

The confession felt like a stab to his heart. He knew it, he didn’t need to hear it. 

“Why not?”.

”She doesn’t like when you're around. She turns mean. Cries sometimes too”, Loretta says quietly. 

Coriolanus sighs. He still has so much work to do. 

“Remember what I said this afternoon? Your cousin is confused. Change can be scary, no matter how good it is”.

”I like you”, Lorretta confesses, taking a bite of her cone. 

“I like you too” Coriolanus responds, “Maybe you can help your cousin like me too. Reminder her that you like me, and all the presents I bring”.

”Uh huh”, she agrees, taking another bite. 

Coriolanus stops before he overwhelms her. It was enough that she was on his side. 

He waits for the little girl to finish her ice cream before he begins the journey back to the house. The sun was still bright in the sky, although not a breeze in sight. 

He wondered what you did with your free afternoon. He bet nothing for yourself. You would have caught up on housework or baked a treat for Lorettas lunch. He hoped the sweet gum would be a nice surprise for you. 

Coriolanus hears his name being called behind him. Both him and Lorretta stop he watch the officer run up to them out of breath and sweaty. 

“Are you officer Coriolanus Snow?”, he huffs, hunched over on his knees. 

“Yes”, Coriolanus answers, pulling Lorretta closer to him. 

The man seemed delighted at the news, pulling out his hand held radio and alerting base that he had found him. 

“You are wanted at the Commanders home. Grunts are all looking for you. 30 points for the first one who found  you” the man grins. 

“Is something wrong? I have to take Lorretta home first”. 

“No, no” the man straightens with his breath back, “Bring the girl. They are looking for her too”.

With this news Coriolanus takes off with Loretta in the way of the Vongurt estate. 

He expects to have to carry her with all of the walking but she keeps up fine, happily sucking on a lollie beside him. 

When he gets to the estate, he sees you on the step next to the Vongurts. You were sobbing uncontrollably. The hitch in your breath stops your flow of tear when you see them nearing. The teacher must have got his name wrong. You didn’t know where Loretta was, he guesses. 

“How could you”, you yell at him, running down the steps to close the distance.

”How dare you” you scream, raising your fist and slamming into him repeatedly. 

He lets go of Lorettas hand to shield himself as you belt him but makes no reproach. 

“I am sorry”, he offers but you continue to hit and scream. 

“How dare you take her. You’re crazy”.

He could hear Loretta try and come to his defense but you pay her no mind. 

“Enough. Calm down” Vongurt reasoned. Your hits stop as Vongurt shelters you in his arms but you kick at Coriolanus in anger. 

“She’s fine. She was never in any danger”, Vongurt defends. 

“Y/n, I am sorry”, Coriolanus begs, “I thought you knew she was with me”.

”I did! That’s what I was worried about. You psycho”, You calm down enough for Vongurt to release you so you could go over to Loretta and take her into your arms. 

Tear pool your eyes as you hug her close to you. Loretta lolli had dropped to the ground during the commonition. Something that normally would make her cry. Instead she stood frozen next to you, trying to give you the comfort she thought you needed. 

“You had no right. None at all to take her” you blame, 

Coriolanus stepped forward to try and explain him but before he could Mrs Vongurt had sought to ease the tension. 

“I am sure there is a good reason. Why don’t we go in the house, have some dinner. I can watch Loretta while you and Coriolanus make up”, she offers. 

Mrs Vongurt goes to reach out for Loretta but you yank her back out of reach. 

You shake your head ‘no’, slowly walking backwards to the trail home. 

“I quit”, you declare, “You stay away from us from now on. All of you. I don’t want to speak to any single one of you again”.

”Wait. Just wait”. Mr Vongurt pleas but you don’t. You walk as fast as you can away from the estate. Mrs Vongurt calls out your name, her voice cracking from her despair. 

Vongurt calls it angrily. Expecting you to follow command like everyone else. 

Coriolanus doesn’t waste words, running after you. Chasing when you begin to run yourself. With Loretta in tow, you just got past the thick of the trees where the rocky trail fell out of sight of the estate. 

He pulls you back by your elbow, yanking Loretta too when you don’t release your hold on her. He lands you against a tree to keep you still. 

“I am sorry”, he begs. He didn’t mean to upset you, “I am so sorry”.

”Get off of me”, you demand. Your hand releases Loretta to attack him once more. 

“Stop, stop”, Loretta cries, pulling on your skirt against you. 

He sh’s you, not wanting Loretta to see the theatrics. You do stop your yelling, seeing Loretta was on Coriolanus side.  

His hold moves up to your face, holding under your ears to keep your gaze focused on him. 

“I am sorry”, he repeats, “We went to the dentist and then the sweet shop. We were coming home right after, I swear. I didn’t mean to worry you”. 

“Why were you at the dentist?”.

Coriolanus felt relieved that he got to explain himself. 

“Loretta's tooth was sore. She needed fillings”.

”I would have done that”, you yell at him once more, “That’s not your place”. 

His fingers tighten on you, he looks down at Loretta to make sure she was okay. The child was upset. She too felt in trouble. 

“But you didn’t”, he states calmly, “You could have but you didn’t”. 

“I didn’t know”, you refuted defensively. 

“You not knowing doesn’t stop her pain”. 

His tight hold hindered you from moving your head but your eyes landed on your cousin. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask softly. 

She shugs in return, digging herself into your skirt. Your hand lifts to her head, petting her gently. Coriolanus lets you go, seeing you calm. 

“You’ve made a terrible fool of yourself” Coriolanus scolds you, “You owe the Vongurts an apology”

You look at him with your usual cold look, pushing off the tree and moving forward with Lorreta. 

“I don’t owe you or the Vongurts anything. I mean what I said, I never want to see you again”.

“You’re being awfully stupid and my patience with you is coming to an end”. He pulls you back once more, this time a firm grip on your arm told you he wasn’t playing around this time. 

He turns back towards the manor, pulling you along with him. 

“What are you doing, let go of me” you complain. When he doesn’t, and you fail to break free. You push Loretta away in the other direction. 

“Lorretta, go to Bernadette’s house”.

”Lorretta!” Coriolanus shouts angrily. The girl hadn’t made a move so it was unwarranted. 

He tries his best to use a softer tone with his next words. 

“Darling, follow us. I’ll have Mrs Vongurt turn on some cartoons for you”. 

Loreeta bawls unsure of what to do. Her loud sobbing echoed through the forest. Your fight against Coriolanus resumed again, but he let you go to pick the small girl up.

You tug at his hands around her, demanding that she is passed over to you. Loretta doesn’t seem keen on the idea, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

“Lorreta, baby, it’s alright”, you console. 

He pushes your hands away as you reach for her, moving on back to the manner. 

He grabs on to your wrist despite you already following and marches you back into the house. 

“You’re back” Mrs Vongurt announced when Coriolanus barged through the door. Her eyes and nose were red from her own crying. 

Coriolanus didn’t have time for it. He passed through like he owed the house to the entertainment room where he placed Loretta on the carpet and switched on the tv for her. 

“Can you look after her?” He asked the Vongurts who had wordlessly followed him in. 

“No”, you complain, trying to tug your wrist from him. 

He doesn’t wait for their response, dragging you into Mr Vongurts study. 

He spins when the door is shut, holding you tightly by your arms as he drags you further in. 

“Stop crying. Stop crying”, he demands of you with a little shake, “ a million people in the world have a better reason to cry than you”.

His hold on you hurt, the more you tried to break free the tighter it got so you went limp instead, letting him move you around the room. 

“Do you know how many points I have lost today?”, he asks you as he shuffles pointlessly around the room “How hard I have to work to get them back”.

”Let go of me. I don’t know” you whine at him. 

“I work so hard for you. To see you. To take Loretta to the dentist. To pass officer training, and take you back to the Capitol”. 

“Let go of me. No” you cry, shoving against him. 

He shakes you softly once more to break your new found resistance, 

“Listen to me, listen, you’re going to stop acting like this or I am going to separate you and Loretta. She can stay here with the Vongurts and you can see her on the weekends”.

You sob loudly in his face, begging him not to do any such thing. 

“Stop crying. I won’t if you don’t make me”.

”I won’t”, you pledge to him, “I promise”.

”Good. Take a breath”, he commands. 

You follow his command. Trying to control the swirling emotions inside of you. 

His hands move to the small of your back, bringing you closer to his body. 

“I am sorry about today. I should have cleared it with you first. It won’t happen again”, he promises, “but you cannot speak to me however you like. The Vongurts even. Did you see you made Mrs Vongurt cry?”

”I thought you hurt Lorretta. They wouldn’t help me look for you. They wouldn’t even let me look for you. They said it was good you were bonding with her. I should be glad. Do you know what it’s like to think your love one is in danger and you can’t do a single thing”. 

He thought back to the arena. The anxiety it brought to be powerless. 

“I only have her”, you admit softly. 

“That’s not true. You have me now, and I would never do anything to hurt either of you. I love you. Both of you in different ways”. 

He leans down his head, remembering what Loretta said about hugs and kisses, and firmly plants his lips against yours. 

You don’t move as he does. He moves his lips to your chin, and trails his way from your jaw down to your neck. 

“My little doll” he says affectionately between kisses, “I gave you a fright didn’t I?”

”Don’t” you say weakly. 

He pulls his head back up, looking at you in the darkening room. 

“Still, you have to apologise to the Vongurts. They didn’t deserve that today”.

You nod your head, unable to form words. 

He kisses you again, gently this time. 

“I hate when we fight. Especially in front of Loretta”.

You nod again, clutching the collar of his uniform in your hands. 

“Cat got your tongue?” He teases you.

”What do you want me to say?”.

”well I apologised for my part in our fight, maybe you could be sorry for yours”.

”I am sorry”, you grit, “I thought Loretta was hurt”.

”Aren’t you sorry for doubting me?”

”I am sorry for doubting you”, you return. 

when he goes to kiss you again, you pull your head back out of reach. Your body bending back under his hold. 

“I would like to go home”, you tell him. 

This time Coriolanus nods. You could tell he was upset with the rejection but he didn’t push it. 

“You’ll apologise to the Vongurts first”, he states, losing his hold for one on your hand. 

He leads you back to the entertainment room where Loretta sat in front of the television, propped up by pillows with a plate full of biscuits. 

The Vongurts sat behind her in the lounge chair, hand in hand watching cartoons like they used to do when their son was alive and little. 

Coriolanus clears his throat to gain their attention, not going further then the doorway. 

They both rise to come over, leaving the child content on the floor. 

He squeezes your hand to let you know to speak. 

“Mr and Mrs Vongurt”, you begin, “I am sorry about this afternoon”.

Your voice was hard and unconvincing but they accepted it anyway. 

Mrs Vongurt pulls you into her arms, and Mr Vongurt taps your arm in forgiveness.

”I am so glad you two made up”, Mrs Vongurt says, “such a silly thing to fight about”.

You gently push her off. Where once she was a parental figure, now she was an enemy. 

“Thank you for keeping me company this afternoon, and thank you for the care you have shown Loretta. I am sorry for the way I spoke to you, and for taking up so much of your time. Loretta and I will leave now”.

”Nonsense, you can stay here”, Mrs Vongurt offered, “plenty of room. Coriolanus could stay too”.

Before you could reject, Coriolanus speaks up for you.

”that’s very kind of you, ma’am but Loretta has school tomorrow and I have to wake early to earn the points lost today”.

”Son, don’t worry about points. Consider your spot in officer assessment secured”, Mr Vongurt declared. 

“Thank you, sir. But I would prefer to pass unaided”, Coriolanus declares. 

He reaches his hand out to shake Mira Vongurts in goodbye. It’s met with a sad and weak handshake before he leans forward to kiss Mrs Vongurt. 

“Let me give you a ride home, and you a ride to the compound” the commander offers, “Will you accept that help?”.

”Yes, sir” he confirms, “Gladly”.

Loretta was unhappy to leave the TV but a trip in the car earnt her curiosity enough to stop her whining.

Loretta was having a strange day. A lot of firsts and unexpected surprises.When Mrs Vongurt bent down to kiss her little cheek, it still didn’t make the list of top 5. 

You held her close in the car. Both you and Loretta were in the back while Coriolanus rode up front. You didn’t speak the whole journey but Coriolanus could feel your eyes drill a hole in him. 

When you finally arrived home, Coriolanus jumped out too in order to open the car door for you, waiting patiently for you to unbuckle Loretta and jump out with her. 

He grabs your arm as you pass by him, halting you for a kiss. 

“You probably won’t see me tomorrow” he advises. The sweet gum from his pocket were slipped into your hand as he continued to speak, “I love you, and I’ll see you soon”.

He releases you to bend down to Loretta, scoping her into his arms for a hug. 

“Goodbye darling. I love you too. You be good for your cousin”. 

He places a kiss on top of her head which causes you to shiver. 

You take her into your arms as soon as possible, watching him as he gets back into the car. 

“Bye”, Loretta screams with a large wave. 

The cars horn is beeped and Coriolanus waves back out the window. 

“Loretta”, you tell her as the car drives away, “You need to tell me exactly what happened today”.

Coriolanus worked hard to earn the points needed for the week. 

It felt as if he only slept a few hours a night. Working with Mungo helped. 

He could recount the learning with him as they did manual labour which helped Coriolanus retain it. He explained the best he could how to structure an essay, Mungo biggest short coming. 

He was a hard worker which meant Coriolanus always had a friend to toil away with.

He longed to see you and Loretta but with officer training so close he couldn’t afford to lose focus. He took more night patrols for the extra points which meant his study period had to be used for a nap or else he wasn’t going to make it. The idea was to cram the points needed into 4 days so he could spend every extra second with you. The long days were worth it when he could spend the afternoon playing with Loretta and the evenings in the lounge room with you while you cut out your pictures and he studied beside you. 

This plan also gave you a schedule so you knew when to expect him and when you could have a night of peace. 

Coriolanus was on day 3 of 4 before he could see you again. He worked alongside Mungo and others he was yet to name,  in their free period building the new shed for the extra points. He passes up a beam to Mungo in the stands when he feels the presence of uniforms behind him. 

They were older established officers sent by the Commander.

”Commander Vongurt wishes to see you in his office”, one of them states. 

Coriolanus confirms he will make his way there. He angrily throws his glove when their back is turned. He wont be getting points for his effort today if he leaves. The points would have earnt him half a day tomorrow which means he would have been at yours by lunch time. 

“My friend?” Mungo calls from his height. 

“Don’t let them finish Mungo. Go slow. I’ll give you my desert tonight if there is work for me tomorrow”.

Mungo salutes back, assuring him their section will remain unfinished. 

Whatever Vongurt wanted, better be important. 

He tries to shake his irritation by the time he reaches the commander door. He had been good to Coriolanus. A lost shift was nothing to cause riff over. 

“Coriolanus” the commander calls as he enters. 

He had paper in his hands and a bewildered look upon his face. 

“What happened?” Coriolanus worriedly asked. He had never seen the Commander in such a state before. 

“I am going to kill her. How could she do this to us?”

”Who?”.

The Commander thrusts the paper into his hand. Transfer documents stamped rejected in a red stamp. 

“Y/n, that’s who. The transport officer came by this morning, asking me if I knew anything about this. How embarrassing! She would have got it too if he didn’t recognise the face”.

An offical photo of you is placed in the top left hand side box above your name and age. 

“Which district?” He asks. 

“All of them”, the commander answered. He shivers to think of you and Loretta in district 12. You didn’t know how good you had it in 2. 

“She’s been blacklisted. I’ve taken care of it. But you need to go speak to her. I’ll ring her ungrateful little neck”.

Coriolanus grabs Vongurts keys off the table. You would be home now. Your days finished at 3 so you could go pick Loretta up from school. Coriolanus had organised it with the Vongurts himself. 

He storms out of the office and into the car, driving too fast along the road. 

His fury built the closer he got. Were you planning on telling him goodbye? Would you really be so reckless with Loretta's future?  

You were shy, he knew that. Sensitive and found it hard to trust and release control. But were you stupid?

The Vongurts protected you. Treated you better than any district should be. Did you think life was this easy everywhere? 

He parked outside your house. You had left the main door open to allow the cool breeze to cool the room while you cooked which was good because Coriolanus forgot to grab his bag with the key.

He races up the steps, his heavy boot thudding against the old wood. 

Loretta was nowhere in sight. The playroom door was open so he assumed she was in there. The thought willed him to be calm. This fight was between you and him. 

You jump when you first see him standing in your doorway.  

“What are you doing here?”, you gasp. 

He doesn’t answer, stalking closer to you with the transfer hidden in his hand. 

He gets too close, causing you to shrink back into the counter. 

“Is something wrong?” You ask him wearily.

”Is there?” He asks back. 

“You’re scaring me”, you admit. 

“You applied for a transfer?”. The paper is thrust into your hands. You stare at it in bewilderment before casting your vision back to his angry gaze. 

”Oh that”, you acknowledged. You squeezed yourself past him, out of your tight corner and threw the paper into the bin. 

”Yes that”, he spits. 

”I did that months ago. Long before you. I forgot I did it. I was only seeing if I could”.

Coriolanus  grabs your arm forcing you to turn to face him.

”Don’t lie to me”.

”I am not” you insist but your voice is soft and unconvincing.

”What was your plan if you got one of the poor districts”, he demands. He imagines 12 and the poverty he saw there. 

“You were going to throw away your future, Loretta’s future. Do you know how lucky you are here in 2?”. His grip tightens on your arm as he speaks to the point of bruising. 

Coriolanus feels his heartbeat in his ears as he pictures little Loretta in the dirt and grime in district 12. They didn’t bother to school children in district 12. They didn’t have the resources like they did it 2. The houses were poorly made accidents waiting to happen. You wanted to give up the security of district 2, of the Vongurts, because you were mad at him?

”I told you I just wanted to see if I could. I was planning on asking for a raise to help with school costs. I thought if I was desirable to other districts that would raise my value to the Vongurts”.

”That’s a lie”, he demands, “The Vongurts would have given you anything you asked for”.

”No, they would have given YOU anything you asked for, their lost son. Let go of me”, you fail to break free, “Let go of me, You’re hurting me”.

He hears Loretta run to the sound of shouting, her feet scuffing the floor in her haste, 

“Stop, let go of her”, the little girl demands. 

Coriolanus immediately releases you. Taking a step back to avoid his urge to reach back out. 

“Everything is fine, Loretta”, Coriolanus promises in the nicest voice he could muster in that moment. 

“Baby, go to your playroom. Everything’s fine”, you promise. 

The little girl cries, saying that she wont.

”Loretta, go!”, you yell at her. 

Loretta takes off at your shouting, running back into her room and slamming the door. 

“Vongurt is ready to kill you”.

”I’ll wait until next week to ask for the raise then”. You try to busy yourself with work once more, trying to play off the situation.

You fiddle with a spice jar before it’s taken from your hands and smashed against the wall.  

This earns your attention to the peacekeeper in your kitchen. 

“You have no idea how stupid that was. You think you would survive in any other district? You?”, he spits.

You curl into yourself, under his fury. He was never supposed to know.

“No”, you say to appease him. 

He grabs you by your arms again, pulling you toward him.

”I am not playing a game with you”, he warns, “There is no where I wouldn’t find you”.

You were not used to anger. You lived a peaceful life with Loretta and the Vongurts has only ever treated you like one of their own. This feeling was an unconfirmable one. It had been years since you were last scolded. 

“I am sorry”, you say followed by a lie, “I wasn’t-

“Don’t say it again”, he seethes, “I didn’t believe you the first time”.  

If you were braver, you would have confronted him. How dare he question you after the stunt he pulled yesterday. After everything he has done, how dare he speak to you like you were crazy for trying to get you and Loretta to safety. But you weren’t, so you tried to worm your way into his good books to avoid his wrath. 

“Oh” you coon, throwing your arms around his stiff shoulders, "my dear, I gave you a terrible fright, didn’t I?”

”no”, you giggle, pulling yourself closer to him, “What was is? My doll! My poor, sweet doll”. 

His hands go to your waist, stilling there while his mind races. Was this a joke? A ploy to get his attention?

You plant a kiss on his cheek before removing yourself from his grasp and focusing back on dinner. 

“Now we have both done things we should have let the other know about. We’re even. Now are you staying for dinner? You didn’t bring your book bag”.

Coriolanus wants to believe you despite his better judgement. You were blacklisted now. There was no harm in trying if nothing came from it. So he decides to believe you. 

“No:, he said gently. His mind begged him to continue pushing but he refused. “I have to get back. Let me just see Loretta”.

He moves before you give permission, opening the door of the playroom to see Loretta in the far corner, crying into her porcelain doll. 

His heart lurches at the sight. His poor baby. He hates that he played a part in her misery. He should have minded his temper until he could have an audience alone with you. 

“Sweetheart”, he called to her. You both had a tendency to cry too much. 

When she doesn't move, he picks her up from the floor, holding her tightly in his arms. 

She wails into his chest, her doll tight in her arms in comfort. 

“Sweetheart, please, everything is okay”, he rocks back and forth on his heels , one arm securely around her while the other pats her head. 

He could see you look in, keeping a close watch on him and your baby. 

From the corner of his eye he sees a stack on your magazines, half cut from your craft. 

He takes the first one off the top, flipping it through to the catalogue pages where the newest items were kept. 

He tried to appease her the only way he knew how.

”Here baby, pick something”, he offers. 

Loretta pushes the page away, “That’s all adult stuff”. 

She was right. Lotions and potions to make you look and feel younger. 

“I’ll bring the toy catalogue next time I come. Just stop crying. It was just a misunderstanding”, he leans down into her ear, “I’ll let you pick as many toys as you want”. 

Her head lolls to the side and she nods against his uniform. 

He throws the magazine back, cupping the small child’s head against him. 

The gentle clanking of broken clay, soiled his content mood. He races out of the room with Loretta still in his arms, rushing back outside to see you cleaning up the broken spice jar. 

“I’ll clean that”, he promises, setting Loretta in her chair at the table. 

He joins you on your knees in the kitchen, taking the dust pan and brush from your hands. 

”I am sorry”, he apologies, sweeping up the remaining clay. 

He finishes collecting the fragments but remains kneeling next to you. 

“I should have told you. I am sorry”, you pander. 

He smiles at you, cupping the side of your face in his hand, “any more surprises I should be aware of”.

”No” you answer softly, rising, “That should be the last of them”.

Coriolanus joins you on your feet where you take the dust pan and brush out of his hands, throwing the waste in the bin trying to cover the transfer paper from his sight. 

”Today is day 3 right? Day 4 tomorrow and then you’ll be here again?”.

Coriolanus nods, “I’ll buy you another spice jar”, he offers. 

You shake your head, “No need”. 

You pay attention to your cooking. It was charred now from your lack of care, Loretta wouldn’t eat it. 

What was supposed to be your peaceful evening has now left you feeling jarred and on edge.  You would remain that way for too long after he had gone. 

Loretta jumps from the chair coming over to the stove to announce her news. 

“Coriolanus is going to bring me the toy catalogue and I get to pick as many toys as I want, and how many. He said”. 

“Wow, that’s very generous”, you swallow. 

You feel him shuffle forward before he speaks, “You too”.

”I don’t think I need anymore toys”, you tease. 

‘No- I”, he stumbled.

You turn to him, holding his head between your heads to stop him from coming any closer. 

“Are you staying for dinner or no? It’s ready now if you have time”.

”I don’t”, he sighs. You knew he didn’t. A gentle reminder for him to leave. 

“I’ll be back Friday, okay? Try not to run off before then”, he quipped. 

‘You won’t be back at all if you don’t run off now” you advised, moving your hands off him. 

He catches your wrists as you do using them to pull you up for a kiss. 

“Goodbye”, he bids before releasing you. 

You watch him carefully as he pecks Loretta’s head, telling her to be good. 

As soon as he is over the threshold, you gently close the door behind him and turn the lock. 

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[hidden-poet]

The Officer

THE OFFICER

Summary: Coriolanus goes to District 2 for officer training, as a gap year before returning to the Capitol to study under Dr Gaul. There he finds you.

Your devotion to your little cousin, reminds him of the only love he has ever known.

warnings: Dead Dove do not eat, stalking, emotional abuse, obsession, Coryo being de lu lu, power imbalance.

Word count: 7, 386

Part 1

Part 2

part 3 coming soon

When Coriolanus found out that his sint in district 12 was nothing more than a lesson from Dr Gaul. A sick, twisted, joke. He first felt like a fool, until his unrefined rage took its place.

Dr Gaul was amused by his shock which only added to his fury. He had endured the worst few months of his life.  Fresh blood stained his hands, and it was all a game to her. 

“What?”, she asks in a mocking tone, “Did you think after all my efforts, I was going to leave you to the districts?”. 

Another fish is dropped into the pond of her new pets, that lap over each other to get it. Coriolanus was not going to be her newest addition to her collection. 

He pickles up his bag, and slings it over his shoulder as he heads back to the door. 

“And where do you think you’re going?” Dr Gaul calls after him. 

“To district 2 for officer training”, he tells her.

He was going to make his own way. He would leave the Plinth prize for Tigres and Grandma’am. The money would take care of them in his absence. 

He sighs when the door doesn’t open, turning back to Dr Gaul who remained glaring at him from her pond. He wondered if he would be subject to some mind alternating experiment. 

“Did you not hear me when I said you will be studying under me at the university?”.

What other tests did she plan to put him through? Would he be able to survive the next round? He felt weak after District 12. He still wore the lessons from it as ghastly open wounds. 

“I still have a lot to learn from the districts” Coriolanus states. 

He was free in the districts. A faceless peacekeeper had fewer obligations than a Snow. He was retreating to the districts to hide. At least for a little while, he had no focus on nothing other than mere survival. Yes sir, no sir, straight away sir. After everything he wanted to wade in the water. He was not yet ready to face the man he had shown himself to be. 

Dr Gaul looks shocked at the news. She thought he would just fall into line. Worship at her feet for her mercy, not turn it away. 

She scoffs at the boy, turning away from him and back to her pond. 

“A year, Mr Snow”, she announces., “And then your summer camp is over. I have big plans for you. Bigger than officer training. Go now, you’ve irritated me”. 

When Coriolanus tries the door again, it opens.

He makes the stop home. He didn’t get to say goodbye last time and he would hate to put them through it again. 

The news of the money reaches them before he does. It makes for a difficult conversation. One where Tigress can’t stop crying, and Grandma’am cant wrap her head around why Coriolanus was going back. 

With a kiss, he leaves them, heading back to the train station. It’s a full days journey to district 2. 

It’s early morning by the time he arrives. 

He knew district 12 was the poorest District but the change is astonishing. District 12 was bleak and dirty. 

District 2 was its own little city. People wore fashionable clothes, tried to make an effort in their appearance. District 12 wore rags that were covered in coal. 

The buildings were more soundly made and had colorful, fresh paint. Despite the early morning, people crowded the lanes with trade. Coriolnaus made his way to the compound impressed with the effort of the district. 

Another noticeable difference was the amount of Peacekeepers. There seemed to be two to every district citizen. The officers in training wore a darker blue, almost black uniform. 

One stopped him, knowing a new peacekeeper when they saw one. He walked Coriolanus to the Compound, giving him a brief layout of the district. Mungo was his name. A few years older than Coriolanus, but not much bigger. 

They were in the centre now, where people did trade stalls, and shops lined the street. Behind that was the factories where most people worked. 

The Compound was far east, and a fair walk from the train station. Given the large space, and distance of the district, Officers were taught to drive and if senior enough, given a personal vehicle to get around. Mungo was unable to pass the next level of officer training, despite being here for years. 

Officer training offered routine to Coriolanus’ day. Wake at 5:30am, eat breakfast, dress and exercise. Shower, dress and lectures. Lunch, military training, lecture, small half hour break, workshop on some sort of basic training, afternoon tea, study period, more military training before dinner, and lights out. He was able to grow his hair back in district 2, lice were less of a threat here, which gave him back some of his identity. 

It was exhausting and exactly what Coriolanus needed. When his head hit the pillow at night, he went straight to sleep, overcome with fatigue. He rose through the ranks quickly which impressed his Commander, and infuriated others. 

Unlike Commander Hoff, Commander Vongurt held himself with dignity. He was a war hero, which is why he was awarded the position in a more wealthy district.  

He had a wife who followed him from the capitol after the war. She hated living in the district but Vongurt wouldn’t leave. Here, he was king. 

Commander Vongurt took a shine to Coriolanus. It started with idle conversation, before the Commander would invite Coriolanus to play chess in his office, before eventually dinner in his home. 

A boy without parents, clutches to any similar shape. He liked the Vongurts. They acted like his parents, and he allowed them to do so. 

Mrs Vongurt was no baker, but would always go out of her way to ensure Coriolanus had some baked goods in his storage from the sweets shop. She would kiss him hello and goodbye, which at first he hated but soon grew accustomed too. 

Commander Vongurt was less obvious with his affections. A small pat on the shoulder, a little more focus in training. He would give Coriolanus fatherly advice, and nonchalantly call him son. 

Coriolanus learned from Mungo that they used to have a real son. A drunken night in a stolen peacekeeper car took him years ago, and the Vongurts seemingly never got over it. 

Coriolanus was glad. The universe had taken his parents, so why shouldn’t he take the place of someone else’s son. 

It hurt to know, he couldn’t keep them. Tigress and Grandma’am, his real family, were waiting for him back home. He would have to return to them. The Plinth money wouldn’t last forever. Besides, he had bigger plans than commanding a district. 

 It was strange how well it all clicked. Coriolanus was offered parental figures, and they were offered a lost son in exchange. 

Of course, they would never take the place of his own mother and father. Nor would he take the place of their son. They were merely clutching each other in the dark. 

Still, Coriolanus let himself indulge. He would go over whenever asked, and often found solace in the commander's office after a long day. 

This did not stop him from working hard. It was after all what first caught the commanders eyes, Coriolanus’ need to be the best. 

The other men were challenging. Coriolanus fought hard to keep his spot at the top in all things. He was the only capitol member which ruffled a few fellow officers, who thought they had worked harder to be in his spot. 

Coriolanus noticed you in district 2. You were the Commanders housemaid, you were hard not to notice. 

You were awfully polite as you served tea in the parlor of an evening. 

You were the only servant Mrs Vongurt spoke kindly to. 

Coriolanus in no way, looked out for you, it was perhaps because you were the only district he knew that his eye always caught you. 

If you weren’t in the Vongurts manor working, you were with a little girl. No more than 6. 

He liked you for a district. You were always kind. Something about you softened Coriolanus. He figured it was an offset of the Vongurts' own affection for you. He paid no more mind to it. Officer training was all he wanted to focus on. 

Coriolanus stood in the middle of town square, lost and irritated. 

He had to be at the justice hall in the next ten minutes. By his map, he was already there, but saw no grand building that could be it. 

He stares at the map in a huff, trying to figure out where he went wrong, but he couldn’t. It should be here. 

A shadow approaches him which only works to irritate him more. He was not going to accept help from a district. 

“Officer Snow?”, he recognized your voice, halting his plans to tell the stranger to get lost. You were no stranger. 

“You look lost. Are you alright?”, you kindly ask him. 

Over your arm, you carried a basket of groceries. Too fresh and expensive to be for yourself. 

“I am”, he admits to you only. He shows you the map, and you peer at it. 

“I am meant to be at the Justice hall in the next ten minutes  for an assignment”, he explains. 

“They’ve given you an old map”, you say, looking up to him, “The Justice hall hasn’t been here for years”. 

Coriolanus huffs out in annoyance. His eyes squeezed shut. One failed assignment was not the end of the world. He doubted Commander Vongurt would even count it. It was more the others had gotten one up on him. 

“It’s-” you begin but one look at him had you feeling as if his misdirection was your fault. 

“I’ll take you”, you offer. 

With a kind smile, you lead the way. 

“Thank you”, he sincerely says, following you. 

“It’s no problem”, you say, but your eyes floated around the market. Coriolanus tried to stay back, to save your reputation. 

A clear path with fewer people allowed Coriolanus to shuffle closer to talking distance. 

“I am surprised you recognized me”, he comments. 

“You are the only officer who has ever been around the Manor for tea”. 

“The Vongurts have been very kind to me”, he dismisses. 

“Me too”, you agree. 

Coriolanus wanted to keep talking. His irritation just moments ago vanished amongst your presence. 

“Don’t I normally see you with a little girl? What’s your daughter's name?”, he quizzes. 

“Yes, sir. She’s my cousin”, you correct, “Lorretta. I’ve had her for a couple of years since her parents died”. 

“How did they die?”. 

You looked surprised he asked, but answered anyway. 

“Her father drowned, and her mother caught some sort of disease that slowly killed her”.

“You seem a bit young to shoulder that responsibility”. He felt sorry for you. A young girl by herself. He never saw any man with you. 

You shrug it off. “Just me and her left now. Who else but me?”.

You turn down a row of buildings and suddenly the rocky ground becomes concrete under your feet. The Justice building must be close. 

“I am sorry. I take it your parents have passed”, he wondered why he cared, but he did. He wanted to know your family dynamic. 

“Yes, Sir”, you say quietly, “They were rebels. I was very lucky Commander Vongurt gave me a chance”.

Is that why you were so meek now? You were shown at a young age what happens when you step out of line.

It also explains why the Vongurts treated you better than the other servants. He knew you had been with them a long time, but you must have been a child. 

“I am sorry”, he says, seeing he has now upset you, “I didn’t mean to pry”. 

You shrug again and brush it off. He was an officer, any question he asked would be met with an answer. 

“My cousin raised me too”, he admits. His honesty took him off guard. It was none of your business. 

But you were a favorite of Vongurt, so why couldn’t you be a favourite for him too?

“I would have died without her. She’s my favourite person in the whole world. I worry about her all the time back in the Capitol without me”. 

The words made him feel lighter as he admitted his guilt. 

“Well take it from me, as big cousins, we only care that you are safe and happy. Everything else doesn’t matter. I hope Lorretta leaves me behind one day, for better things. You shouldn’t worry, thats our job”. 

The words eased him to hear. You were so sweet. So comforting. Lorretta was in good hands. 

“Well” you say, “There she is”.

Coriolanus looks in front of him to see the wide gate that protected the large stone building. A panem flag flew on a flagpole, and the justice symbol was carved over the front entrance. 

Coriolanus sighed, half glad he was no longer lost and half sad that he had lost your attention with no promise of it ever returning. 

“Thank you”, he praises. 

His relief turned into a pestering feeling that you were to return to town by yourself. He pushes it down, surprised that such a feeling was rearing its head. It was only talk of cousins, he assured himself, his mind was on Tigress, and the protective feelings that she arose within him. 

“Of course, Sir. Good luck with your assignment”.

You offer one more kind smile before your part ways. You turn back to town and Coriolanus makes his way inside. 

He tries his best to push you out of his mind, but as his head hit the pillow that night, sleep took the long route to find him while he thought of you. 

Coriolanus made more of an effort to visit the manor whenever he could. 

You showed him no more familiarity than before, but he felt more connected to you then anyone else before. He came to district 2 to rest his mind, but now you played on it, disrupting his peaceful routine. 

To his dismay, an invite to a ghastly party held for Vongurts wife’s friends, did not reward him with sight of you. He sat with Commander Vongurt in misery while Mrs Vongurt hosted her classless friends. 

After hours of enduring Commander Vongurt managed to sneak Coriolanus away with him to the study. Coriolanus tried to not come across as obvious. 

He waited until Commander Vongurt was solely focused on his next move in chess, before he asked where you were. 

You were not one of the live-in staff. You hadn’t been for years. Not since you took custody of your cousin. You lived in a house over in one of the communities. Vongurt did not know which one. 

Coriolanus let him win the game, in gratitude for the information that he didn’t know he desperately wanted. 

He made his exit after that. No point in staying if there wasn’t even a chance he would see you. 

Coriolanus hid his jacket, despite the cold, in the parlor so he would have an excuse to collect it tomorrow. When he knew you would be there.  

That night in the bunk was the same as those before it; sleep invaded him. He went over how he would approach the situation tomorrow. 

He left the compound during his study period. When he arrived at the Manor he was delighted to hear Mrs Vongurt had gone to the doctor for a cure for her hangover. 

Coriolanus made his way inside without an invitation from the staff who opened the door. There was a mess when he left last night but now everything was back in order. He could almost see his face from the way the floor shined. 

No one bothered him while he collected his jacket. You again were nowhere to be found. 

He wandered the halls, peeking in rooms trying to find you. When he eventually did, you were in the kitchen, cutting out pictures from capitol magazines and gluing them onto cardboard. 

He knocks on the door which startles you. 

“Officer Snow”, you greet as he enters. 

He eyes your craft on the table. You had cut out the clothes from the book, making your own outfits from them. 

“It’s my break”, you defend, “Mrs Vongurt throws the magazines out after she’s done with them so she doesn’t mind me using them”. 

You flinch slightly as he draws closer to you, picking up the last one you were working on. He wonders what he did to cause such a reaction. 

“You’re not in trouble”, he says. Certainly not by him. 

Your current project was a black evening gown which had two long strips on either side and large white bows on the hips. You paired it with black heals and the head of a model with long, curled hair. 

He places it back down in favour of another less dressy. A red sundress, paired with flats, and advertisement of diamond necklace and ruby earrings. 

He shows it to you. 

You were bashful, embarrassed that he had caught you playing pretend. 

“What I would wear to a picnic”, you explain. 

“Complete with diamonds”, he teases. 

Your shoulders rise in embarrassment as you quickly collect your craft, packing it away into a woven bag.

“Would you like a cup of tea, Officer?”, you deflect. 

He hands you back your card, knowing you wanted it. You reach for it, but he pulls it back at the last second. 

“I think you would look very beautiful in this outfit. I am sorry if you thought I was making fun of you”, he says before finally handing the card back. 

You throw it in with the rest, and turn to busy yourself with the pot. 

“I’ll make you a pot”, you ignore him completely, “I can deliver it to the sitting room if you want to wait there”. 

He instead takes a seat on the stool under the large wooden table that you used to do craft on. 

“Is it because I am a man or a peacekeeper that makes you so uncomfortable in my presence?”, he questions. 

He loved that you hated getting into trouble. You were such a good girl. 

“Forgive me. I meant no offence, sir. I just thought you might be more accustomed to a nicer atmosphere. I was not giving you direction”. 

“You have no idea the slums I have been in the last few months”- Years- “A servants kitchen holds no horror for me”. 

“Of course  not, sir”, you breathe. 

The pot was hot enough now, so you pour it over the tea leaves, allowing time for it to soak and infuse. 

“You don’t have to call me sir, or officer Snow”, he mentions. 

You pour the tea into fine china, and mix it to his liking as you answer. 

‘‘Disrespect of an officer is twenty lashes”, you announce.

Coriolanus picks up the cup, blowing on the hot tea. 

You pick up your basket before he could answer, already taking steps away from him. 

“My breaks over, Officer Snow. If you need anything, ring the bell and someone will come”, you tell him. 

Someone. Not you. He thinks to himself. 

“Thank you”, he accepts. 

Coriolanus doesn’t finish his tea after you are gone. 

His study period was almost over. There was no more time to be wasted with you. 

He learnt you did mending work on the side like Tigress did, which offered him a new approach. 

He didn’t know why he sought your presence, or why you wouldn’t leave his mind after everything he had been through after district 12. 

It was perhaps because you were kind and reminded him of his loving cousin who he missed dearly. Either way he didn’t fight himself to ignore it. It was a little joy in a sea of misery. 

Finding ways into your life offered him something to look forward to after long days of officer training. 

He strayed from his patrolling path one day to follow you and your cousin home. Going back the next day while you were at work and your cousin was at school to have a look inside. 

You kept a neat home. It was only small, but all you needed. 

As soon as he entered the kitchen table was only a few feet away, the kitchen was directly left and had nothing to separate it from the rest of the space. Past the table were two doors. One was a playroom for Lorretta, the other the bedroom with only one queen bed for the two of you. 

Despite your evident love for fashion, you had very few clothes, Lorretta having more. You had a few pieces of jewelry, and a small amount of makeup. 

The room was quite bare and with nothing else to see he goes back to the living room. An old brown sofa sat facing the wall with a small coffee table in front of it.  The bathroom was directly across the room. 

He walked around, observing the living space.  Dishes were drying on the rack, the fridge and cupboards had food, all clothes were in the washing basket in the bathroom and your toothbrush sat next to a smaller one in the cup.

It felt homey. He was glad you were not living in slums. Although, it was hardly anything to boast about. 

He locks up after himself, retreating back to his duties. 

He decides he must get Lorretta to like him. You would soon follow, he was sure. 

He tears a few buttons off his uniform for an excuse to approach your house. 

Lorretta sat on the bottom step drawing pictures in the dirt with a stick. 

She was a cute child with blonde hair, and dark green eyes. Her face was round and chubby, and her teeth were little and gapped. 

“Hello”, he greets when he draws her attention. 

She stares at him blankly. It must have been confusing for the little girl to see a peacekeeper at her door. 

“I am Coriolanus Snow”, he continues, reaching into his pocket for the pouch of sweets.

“You’re Loretta, aren't you? I have something for you”.

Her eyes perk up at the sight of the bag. The stick she is holding is dropped to the ground in exchange for the bag.

“For me?”she asks, surprised. 

You yank the door open, not seconds later and race down the steps, between them. 

“Lorretta, get back inside the house”, you demand. 

“Here”, Coriolanus whispers, giving the bag over. 

The little girl snatches it up and runs back inside before you can grab it. 

“They’re just sweets”, he tells you before you panic too much. 

“Can I help you with something, officer?”. 

He can tell by your tone of voice, you were not pleased to see him. 

“Yes, you can”, he lifts his shirt to show you the missing buttons, “the uniform lady will kill me if I take back another ruined uniform. I was wondering if you could help me? I can pay”. 

His approach softened you enough to rid the scowl off your face and come close enough to take the shirt from him. 

“Yes, i can”, you say checking the damage, “I’ll have it fixed by tomorrow. You can pick it up from the Manor, next time you are there, sir. We’ll count the sweets as payment”.

You were trying to distance yourself from him, but it wasn’t going to be that easy. 

“No, not the Manor”, he refutes, “I can’t make any mistakes in front of Vongurt with the next round of officer assessments coming up. I’ll come back after training tomorrow”.

You looked uneasy but it wasn’t a suggestion. 

“Okay”, you agree, “But please don’t let anybody know I did this for you. I don’t want any more peacekeepers at my door. They are not all as nice as you”. 

Coriolanus' heart leaped. You liked him. You were just scared of the uniform. 

“Of course”, he promises. He wouldn’t let anyone else knock at your door anyway.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then, officer Snow”, you remarked, making your way back up the steps. 

“See you then”, he smiles.

The day dragged as he waited to return to you. 

When it was finally time, he walked so fast that he began to sweat. It delayed him when he finally reached your house because he hated not looking presentable to you. 

Loretta was not outside, and he was sure that was by design of you. You were protective over her, like Tigress is over him. 

You must have been watching from the window as when he reached the first step, you shot out through the door. 

“Officer Snow”, you greeted. 

You push him back off the step by coming down them yourself. The shirt is handed to him all too soon. 

“Good as new”, you tell him. 

“How much do I owe you?”, he uttered, reaching into his pocket for some coins. 

“I had to pry Lorretta hands off the bag before she gave herself a tummy ache. Payment is satisfied”.

“I insist”, he says. He gives you whatever is in his hand but you don’t accept it. 

“Goodnight, officer Snow”, you stated. 

“Hey wait”, he calls out after you. All day he has longed for this moment. It couldn’t be over just like that. 

You turn back but don’t say anything. 

“Is something the matter?”.

“Of course not, sir”, you asked confused. 

“I’ve been greeted friendlier by enemies”, he complains. 

“I meant no offence, Sir. I have dinner on the stove”. 

He nods, perplexed. What was he going to say? Don’t have dinner. Let it burn. 

“Goodnight then”, he permits, walking hastily back to the compound. 

The shirt is balled in his fist. 

He avoids you for the next few days. Throwing himself back into his peacekeeper duties. He took more patrols at night to keep his mind occupied. When he wasn’t focused, his mind drifted to you.

He doesn’t know why your rejection hurt him so much. It was too soon after Lucy-Gray, to be thinking of you any sort of way. 

But he yearned for you to be kind to him. He wanted to snatch your kindness from you, solely for himself. It would only lead to heartbreak. You would betray him somehow. All humans were selfish, self-preserving animals. He wished he could believe it when it came to you. 

You gave up your life to raise your cousin, like Tigress did for him. He never thought he could find someone to match Tigress’ goodness. But if it was true, if you were one of the last good people in the world, should he not protect that before it is stamped out?

He decides he needs to test you. If you fail, he can go back to a peaceful life, but if you succeed and his intuition was right, he would take you as a reward. 

He thought for hours of an appropriate test, but came up with nothing. It was by chance he agreed to accompany Mungo to the jewelry shop to collect the profit and send it back to the capitol bank. 

He never expected to see you there. It was just after school had been let out of the day, and you were left finishing up some work after picking Loretta up from school. 

You were showing the shopkeeper your slip from Mrs Vongurt that gave your permission to pick up her cleaned jewelry. The old man was tight with security. He scrutinized the slip, ensuring it was valid. 

He paid off duty Peacekeepers to stand guard, ready to take down any one who failed to walk through his alarm system. 

Apart from you and Loretta, there was only one more couple in the shop. Yet six peacekeepers guarded it. 

Mungo went to the back with the shop assistant and Coriolanus found his way over to a bored looking Lorretta. 

“Hello”, he greets the small child, “how was school day?”.

He kept his voice low so he didn’t draw attention from you. You were sure to demand the small child away from him, and Loretta was  his in. 

“Good”, she answers quickly, “Do you have any lollies?”

Coriolanus shakes his head, looking at a high display of different coloured sapphire birds. 

“Not today, sorry”, he answers. 

Coriolanus picks up a small, green, sapphire bird, and looks around to make sure no one saw him take it. 

With ill intent, he bends down to Lorretta, patting her shoulder to distract her from the weight of the bird going into her jumper pocket. 

The shopkeeper had accepted your slip and given you the jewelry. The sight of Coriolanus talking with your cousin, had you racing over. 

“I have some shirts to be mended, I’ll bring around some sour drops if your cousin tells me you have been well behaved”, Coriolanus spoke to the little girl. 

“I am always good”, she retorts with hopeful eyes, “If i am really good can I have a giant lollipop?”

“Lorrie!”, you scold with a laugh. You take the child into your arms lovingly pressing her against you, “I am sorry, officer Snow. She is only joking”.

Coriolanus remains knelt on the ground. He suddenly felt shy under your attention, and couldn’t meet your eye so he remained looking at the little girl. 

“If you are really good, and eat all of your dinner, and do all of your chores, I’ll bring you a giant lollipop”, he promises to loretta. 

She does a little jump off the ground, staring up at you begging you to allow this trade to happen. 

“ I might drag my feet if it means this one goes to bed on time”, you tickle your cousines neck which elicits a gleeful squeal.

Coriolanus rises from the floor, now having the courage to look at you. 

“There’s no rush”, he tells you.

You smile at him, which causes a stronger response then he would have liked. A small smile and he felt his heart leap. He would give anything to see a proper smile from you. 

“We should get going. Goodbye, officer”, you bid. 

“Goodbye”, he breathes, watching you go. 

The alarms blar as soon as you walk through the doors. It panics you greatly, freezing you in spot with a horrified expression. 

Coriolanus watches as Peacekeepers descend upon you, shoving you hardly against the wall. 

He hated to see it but if you could pass this test, he would assure nothing like this would happen again. 

But for now a peacekeeper ran his hands along your body and another one went through your bag. 

A shout is given when the bird is retrieved from your cousins pocket. Her wrist quickly caught in a tight hold. 

It was unfortunate that Henry rose to action. He was known for being overbearing and cruel. 

“Wait”, you demand as the bird is thrown to the safety of a peacekeeper and your cousin is dragged outside. 

Coriolanus quickly rushes outside after you in sheer joy that you were standing up for Lorrie. 

Henry had entered the street with the little girl in his grasp. He stood looking angrily at you as you took your crying cousin into your arms and refused to let him walk on with her.

“She didn’t take it!”” you demand, “It was an accident”.

“Stealing is 10 lashes. Interfering with Peacekeeper work is three days in the goal”, he threatened. 

Still you did not release her, keeping your body protectively over her. 

“She didn’t steal”, you reiterate, “Officer, please, it was an accident. It won’t happen again”.

Henry grows frustrated, yanking the girl from under you with a painful tug. 

“Wait, stop, it was me”, you scream, “i put it in her pocket”. 

You were the same as him. You protect those you love, baring the cost of doing so. 

He was never going to let you go to the whipping post, but revelled in the knowledge that you would go for your cousin. 

Lorretta is dropped at your false confession and you are grabbed instead. 

“Thieving, little, bitch. ”, he called you, raising a hand and bringing it down with enough force to knock you off balance. 

His tight hold on your wrist kept you upright as he continued to hurl abuse, “Using a little girl to do your dirty work”.

Coriolanus rushes to you, watching as Henry lifts his boot and plants it into your side.

“Hey!” Coriolanus yells at him, “stop!”. 

Coriolanus grabs you just below where Henry had caught you in a vicious grip.

Lorretta wailed off to the side, watching helplessly as adults fight. People in the street stop to watch a woman get beat but none come to help her. Further proof that only you were worthy. 

“Mind your business, Snow”, Henry demands, trying to tug your wrist away. 

 “Let her go”, Coriolanus objected. 

This greatly upset Henry, who took a step closer to Coriolanus and tightened his grip on your wrist. 

“Who are you to tell me to do anything? I’ve been here three years longer than you. I outrank you. What, because you’re the Commanders lapdog you think there'll be no consequences for stepping out of line”, he spat. 

“I think who are you going to report me to?” Coriolanus provoked. 

“There’s other authority figures than just Commander Vongurt. Maybe i take your subordinance to the committee of justice”, Henry threatened. 

Coriolanus was not worried. He did not intend to remain an officer, so his record mattered little to him, on the off chance Henry got his justice. 

“And you’ll tell them what? That a little girl who can’t even reach the top of the counter stole something in a room full of Peacekeepers? Or a woman who was watched from the second she walked through the door managed to take something without anyone noticing? Who’s to say you didn’t do it? You didn’t score too well on your last officer assessment. Maybe you decide a robbery is just what you needed to claw back some points at the expense of the peace of the district. Maybe the committee of justice would like to hear that”. 

Henry calculates his next move. He knew that he would never beat coriolanus in court. He knew too many fancy words, and could string them together in the most charming and convincing way. 

“Take your bitch then”, Henry growled, throwing your wrist out of his hold. 

With the scene now done, the crowd disperses and the rest of the peacekeepers follow Henry back inside.

You tear yourself from Coriolanus’ grasp as he bends to comfort you. You are out of his reach before he realizes. Back over to your cousin, holding her in your protective embrace. 

From the way you held her to one side, coriolanus could tell Henry did harm to your other side when he kicked you. He perhaps shouldn’t have allowed the test to go on for so long. 

Lorreta’s cries are loud, yet you make no attempt to shush her. Your eye was red from Henry’s punch, but no tears shed. You were staying strong for your cousin, but it didn’t matter, Coriolanus could see the shake of your hands. 

He approaches you slowly. Your look told him that you were expecting him to go with the other peacekeepers. 

“Y/n”, he addressed, “I’ll take her”. 

He opens his arms to take the weight from you but you shake your head ‘no’ at him. 

“I have to”, you begin talking in a quick, shaky voice, “Mrs Vongurts jewelry”.

Your eyes flick to the door in a terrified gaze. To go back in after that would be brutal. 

“I’ll get it”, he offers, “I’ll take it to the estate. You go home”.

This you nod too. You don’t thank him, just turn and walk about as fast as you can with the weight of your cousin and the pain of your body. 

Coriolanus does as he promises,after he makes the journey back with Mungo and the money. He would be glad when he passed high enough to get a vehicle. It was all too slow for him when he was so eager to get back to you. He explains to the Vongurts the situation. Henry was sure to face the consequences tomorrow and Coriolanus would make sure he pays every day after that.

It was the first time he rejected their offer to stay. He needed to see you. Now he knew you were the one, he was eager to fulfill his duties as your man.  

By the time he reached your door, it was dark and cold. 

He knocks three times before you answer. 

“Officer Snow? What are you doing here?” you asked, shocked to see him. 

“I came to check on you. Can I come in?”, his foot wedging itself through the door gave you your answer, so you stepped back and let him in. 

“I never said thank you”, you state.

He surpasses you in your own home, leaving you by the door. 

“I don’t want a thank you”, he returns. 

He moves back over from the kitchen table to stand in front of you. Your eye has blackened around the soft flesh of your face, he reaches out to gently trace it with his thumb. 

“That looks like it hurts”, he comments. 

His actions freeze you, you don’t move or speak so he continues. 

“Where’s your cousin?”, he asks, walking to the fridge and pulling out the frozen peas. 

“She’s asleep”, you say a bit unsteady. 

“Good”. He sits at the table and gestures for you to sit in the chair next to him. 

You do, not knowing what else could be done. You take the frozen peas from him when he presses them against your eye. 

Coriolanus makes himself comfortable after his task is taken from him. He spreads his legs wide and smooths his hands on his thigh, slumping back into his seat. 

“Is she okay?”, he asks. 

“A little shaken up, but he didn’t hurt her. Thank god”, you answer.

“It won’t happen again”, he promises, “I’ll make sure you and your cousin are safe from now on”

You look at him unsure, but don’t call him on it. 

“You can’t control everything”, you remark. 

“Yes, I can,” he retorts. One day he would control everything. 

“Is there anything I can do?”, he offers. 

You nod your head no with a sly smile. 

“No, we’re fine”. You throw the bag of frozen peas to the table, using your hand to rest your face.

You go quiet again which drives Coriolanus insane. He wished he knew what you were thinking, what you wanted. 

 He knew what he wanted. He wanted to feel your lips against his. 

So he reaches out to the bottom of your chair, his fingers grip the wood and he slides you along the floor over to him. 

You look at him like a deer seeing a hunter. Big, wide eyes, and skittish demeanor. 

You turn your head away from him as if that would deter him. 

His fingers on your jaw, turn your head back so his lips could meet yours greedily. 

You don’t move, make no sound. Coriolanus gets his fill without resistance. 

Even when he pulls back, his fingers remain locked around your jaw, keeping you facing towards him, but your eyes are cast to the table. 

“Y/n”, he calls to you, trying to regain your attention. You don’t give it to him, zoning out. 

“Y/n”, he calls again in a strong tone. This time your eyes flick to him, but your body remains a statute. 

“Nothing like this will ever happen again”, he promises, “You deserve so much more than this”. 

His eyes leave yours as he darts around the room, looking at the bare house. You deserve so much more than a district life. Should you not be rewarded for your kindness, for your loyalty to family?

Tigress deserved to be. 

He feels your hands, clutching his hand on your jaw, so he exchanges his hold to wrap around your small hand, intertwining them and bringing the down to your lap

His attention went back to you who still looked frozen in shock. 

“Whatever you need from now on, I’ll take care of it. Of both of you”, he vows, looking quickly to the room your cousin slept in. 

“Please leave” you whisper, once more your eyes fall from their target. 

“You’re kicking me out?”, he questions, astonished. 

“No, sir, I am just tired”, you lie. 

Your eyes glaze with tears which you refuse to show him. 

Coriolanus reaches out, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger gently, before releasing it all together and rising from his seat. 

“Alright, you sleep”, he relents. 

His hand touches your shoulder as he walks past. You could breathe once more when you heard him open the door, and lock it behind him. 

He knew the first thing you would do is go to the Commander. 

He made a point to get to the man before you did. 

Coriolanus skipped his lecture to head to his office, so coriolanus would be the first person he saw when he arrived for work. 

The faux son of the commander needed no appointment. Still Commander Vongurt seemed surprised to see Coriolanus waiting in his office so early. 

“Coriolanus, son”, the commander questioned, “has something happened?”.

Coriolanus rose from the guest chair as the Commander neared his desk, throwing himself into his great chair and waiting for a response. 

“I have some news”, Coriolanus announced taking his seat. 

“You’re leaving”, the commander guessed in a disappointed tone. 

“No. No, not yet”. The worried look on the commander’s face disappeared but the curiosity remained.  

“But when I do”, Coriolanus continued, “I’ll be taking Y/n with me”.  

Commander Vongurt was stunned at the news. He said nothing in return, as the emotions passed through his head. 

Coriolanus knew the Commander had a soft spot for you. It was the only reason you could work the hours around caring for your cousin. 

“Wouldn’t you rather it was me, than some district?”Coriolanus justified. 

Vongurt still didnt respond. Coriolanus could see the emotions as they passed through his mind, bewilderment, anger, acceptance, sadness.

“I can take care of her”, he promises.

“But you’ll both be in the Capitol?”, Vongurt finally said. He didn’t doubt Coriolanus' care taking skills, but the wound of his dead son still stung. To lose those he tried to fill him with, would reopen the wound with no replacement. 

“It’s only a day's travel. Mrs Vonhurt could stay with us when she comes to visit. It would make her feel less trapped here”. 

“And what of her cousin? She would never leave her”, Vongurt countered after a brief thought that maybe Lorretta could be a stand in. 

“She won’t have to. The Capitol is big enough for both of them”, Coriolanus pointed out. 

“The Capitol”, the Commander scoffs, “they’ll tear her apart. No, Coriolanus, I am sorry”. 

Coriolanus leans forward on his knees, talking to the commander as if he was telling him a secret. 

“I plan to be a man of great power”, he tells the older man, “A man who can do as he pleases”. 

“This is all coming as a bit of a surprise. You’ve made no mention of her before”, the commander says. 

“I love her”, Coriolanus admits slowly, “I tried to convince myself otherwise, but I feel if I let her slip through my fingers, I'll regret it the rest of my life”.

“Love is it?”, Vongurt muses, relaxing back into his chair. Coriolanus' confession seemed to ease the older man. 

“Yes, I would rather it you than a district”, Vongurt admits. 

Coriolanus rises from his seat, holding out his hand as if they just closed a business deal. 

The Commander rises, taking hold of Coriolanus' hand in a firm shake. 

“I’ll take good care of her”, Coriolanus promises. 

“Just don’t take her too soon. This is all very sudden”. 

“I promised you a year, didn’t I?” Coriolanus grins. 

part 2

Taglist:

@thaleleah

[hidden-poet]

S. lands on top: 7

summary: Coriolanus returns home to the Capital with two women from district 12 plaguing his mind. One a (presumed) dead mystery but another well within his reach.

warnings: unco, dark!Coriolanus, possessive!Corirlanus, Dark themes, mentions of death, she/her pronouns, kidnapping, violence, grafic violence, SA. non-con. All of the warnings, dead dove do not eat.

Word count: 6340

chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Coriolanus was giddy to deliver the cake to Dr Gaul.  He expected recognition. Praise. An acknowledgement of his good work in some way. 

But when he drops the tin on her desk, she only gazes at it in mild curiosity. 

“A district apology”, he states before she could question him. 

“A forced apology?” she drawls. Her eyes go back to her paper as if his feat was unimpressive. 

“Of her own accord”, Coriolanus defends, “Mabel has decided to appeal to our merciful nature”.

This draws Dr Gauls gaze back up, with a sly smile tugging at her lips.

“And how’s it taste?” Dr Gaul asks tauntingly, “Your victory?”.

Coriolanus stands tall, licking the last of Mabel from his teeth. 

“Sweet”, he answers. 

Dr Gaul leans back in her chair, twirling her pen around her gloved fingers. 

“I must admit Mr Snow, I didn’t think you had what it took to tame her, and so quickly”.

Coriolanus felt a swell of pride go through him. He has been underestimated all his life. Now people are starting to recognise his greatness. 

“You forget I’ve been to the districts. Seen how they live. What they live for. To defeat thy enemy, is to know thy enemy”.

“Know thy enemy indeed”, Dr Gaul pokes, “every inch”.

She flips suddenly, going back to her work now uninterested. 

“Run along now. I am busy, and you have a game to run”.

He uses two fingers to push the tray closer to her smugly before retreating from her office, never feeling better. 

With Coriolanus’ victory, he didnt see why they had to continue mentoring the tributes. He already proved to Dr Gaul that he understood what it took to control people. 

Having to waste time with the boy when he could be at home with Mabel was torturous. 

“Don’t slouch” Coriolanus criticizes the boy, who wiggles his body straighter. 

“Speak slowly, calmly. Don’t rush your sentence”, Coriolanus orders. 

“Sorry”, the boy says quietly. He takes a deep breath before suddenly breaking into tears. 

“I miss my mummy”, he cries. Coriolanus remains sat still across from him, unmoved by the outburst. 

“I wanna go home”, he wails. 

With a sigh, Coriolanus stands, retrieving his coat from where it laid over the couch. No more could be done with the boy in such a state. 

“It’s alright”, he consoles unsympathetically. “Why don’t you write a note to her, and I will have it delivered”. 

The Boy shakes his head but refuses to stop crying. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, James. Practice your answers for the interview”.

He leaves the crying boy with joy in his step. He hoped Mabel was still in a good mood. He stops by the shops, seeing as his day finished early, and picks up some more chocolate almonds. Good behaviour deserves reward. 

The hallway to his apartment was eerily quiet. With Tigress and Grandma’am gone there was no need for Peacekeepers to guard the door. It made it feel a bit more resounding that he won. His reward was just behind the locked door, waiting patiently for him. 

Or maybe not so patiently. He is barely through the door when he feels Mabel's hands wrap around his neck, pulling him towards her and through the door. 

He kicks it shut behind him. Willingly bending to her desire and kissing her firmly on the lips.Her hands go from his neck to his shoulders, pushing his coat off him and onto the floor. Something he normally wouldn’t accept. 

The jar of almonds is dropped as he rids himself of his coat. The sound of it rolling on the floor takes Mabel's attention, giving him a chance to attach her neck with his teeth. 

“They for me?” She asks out of breath. 

“Yes”, he confirms, going back to her mouth, “you can have them later”. 

Tired of bending, Coriolanus picks her up by the back of her thighs and hoists her up around his waist. She accommodates by wrapping her long legs around him, and holding herself up on his shoulders. 

When she was knocked into the wall, and pinned in place by him, she lets out a winded sound before an ecstatic laugh. He knew she liked it a bit rough. 

His lips go back to her neck, trying to leave as many marks as he could into her soft flesh. 

A pounding on the door breaks his concentration. He stops to watch the door shake as a heavy fist slams into it. 

“Mr Snow?’ a strong, masculine voice calls behind the door. 

A peacekeeper, he knew it just from the way the man spoke. An update on the game? The tributes? Had something happened?

Mabel clings to him as he begins to lower her, gaining his attention back. 

“Mr Snow!’ The voice calls again. 

“Leave it”, she demands. Her fingers reach for his pants, unbuttoning them before slowly lowering the zip in a tease. 

He is already painfully hard. It would be embarrassing for the Peacekeeper to see him in such a state. Whatever it was would have to wait until he was done with Mabel. 

“Mr Snow, sir”, the voice calls again. 

She palms him playfully over his underwear. A beautiful, tantalizing smile across her lips. 

“Tell him you already know, and you’re dealing with it. You can ask for an update later”, Mabel orders, “dont want to look like you’re not across things while you’re under me”.

He grips her wrist to stop her hand from moving for a chance of an even voice. 

“Thank you, officer. There is no need to knock my door over. I am following up on the situation. You can leave. Go and do your job”, Coriolanus shouts. 

A silence follows, before the officer follows command, “Yes, sir. We will find her”. 

A lost tribute, Coriolanus thinks. He wonders who it could be, and which one of his colleagues owns her. They must be in pure panic. He suddenly feels grateful for the meek boy. 

Mabel kisses him, distracting from his train of thought. His hand wanders to her breast and he squeezes it tightly in his hand. 

Her legs unhook from him, sliding herself down the wall. He doesnt let space between them. He would kill Mabel if this turned out to be a tease. 

But her hands remain on his pants, pulling them down his legs, where he kicks him onto the floor and rushes to undo his tie and shirt. Her hands hit his trying to assist in ridding the barrier. 

She drops to her knees and takes him into her mouth, sucking his cock with enthusiasm he didn't know she could have for anyone else's pleasure but hers. 

His hands tangle in her hair to stabilize himself more than anything. The sounds coming from him embarrassed him slightly but were unstoppable. He feels himself growing closer to his end and demands she stop. With a harsh tug backwards of her head, she pops her lips off him, now swollen and leaking with pre-come. 

Her eyes are wide, batting him at him from the ground. He hated that he allowed her to command him before. Hard-on or not, he should have opened the door. She was a play thing. A pet. She couldn’t get in the way of his responsibilities. 

She looked more like a district animal with his train of thought. 

“Crawl to the bedroom”, his eyes flick to the long hallway over the hard wooden floor. 

She eyes the distance too. Knowing this power play was retaliation to her taking the lead. Given normal circumstances, she would never let a man treat her this way. But this was far from normal, and it was beyond sex. For each, this was about maintaining control. 

She rises on her knees and Coriolanus’ hand gets ready to beat her into submission, but she rises only to lift her dress from her body, throwing it next to his discarded clothes. She wore a lace set of black underwear. The thin material barely covers the skin underneath. 

Just the sight of it makes coriolanus nearly combust. With a smirk she begins to crawl along the floor on all fours, giving him a beautiful shot of her perky ass. He trails slowly behind her, unable to tear his gaze away. She had turned him into a dog following a bone and he mentally cursed her for it. 

When she reaches the bed, she turns back around to look at him, glad to see his words were stuck in the back of his throat. She leaps up, turning around to lay flat on the bedding, waiting for him to make the next move. Her knees were red from where they rubbed against the floor, and Coriolanus dick was painfully hard. 

“Take it all off”, he commands. Now feeling foolish for his completely naked state. 

“You take it all off”, she contends. 

He reaches out to her ankle pulling her across the bed so she was closer to him. 

“Off”, he repeats, “Or i’ll burn all your clothes”. 

She still remains smirking as if she has won as she complies with his threat. 

“Back on all fours”, he orders, his hold on her ankle helping flip her. 

While he misses the view of her face, he liked the position of power behind her. 

He reaches to her sex, finding it dripping wet. He smears the wetness to her asshole, inserting two fingers to stretch her. She makes a surprised sound, but doesnt fight as his fingers prepare her hole. 

He wonders if she has done this before. She properly has. Mabel had very few firsts left. 

Lining his cock up, his tip teases her entrance making her shiver. Holding her hips steady, he inserts himself into her, pushing past any resistance and going at a speed that was enjoyable to him. Her tits jiggle as he thrust. She skillfully keeps her face out of his view so he couldnt see how she was reacting to all of this. 

He grips the insides of her thighs, pulling them further apart so he could go deeper. Mercifully, one hand goes to her clint and begins to rub in circles while the other remains in a tight hold onto the flesh of her inner thigh. 

Her back buckles, pressing her chest into the mattress below. 

Coriolanus continues at an unforgiving pace but Mabel raised no complaints. He felt a serious lack of control. 

He removes his hand from her clit, both hands go to her hips.

”You have no idea”, Coriolanus pants, “How long I’ve wanted this”.

Mabel groans, stretching herself further along the mattress.

”Then fucking take it”, she snaps,”all you do is talk. Shut up”. 

He pulls himself out of her, using his hold on her hips to flip her in her back to insert himself back in. She greets him by wrapping her long legs around his waist, drawing him closer. 

He goes harder and deeper than before. She curls her arms around him in appreciation, rocking her own hips against his. 

“How’s that for talking?”, he quips lowly into her ear. 

Her nails dig into his skin, leaving red indents marking his skin. She feels the scars on his back under her fingers, and draws her fingers across damaged flesh. 

”an improvement”, she breathes back. 

Coriolanus could talk no more, his mind clouded with lust as he races to the finishing. 

Mabel wanted control, he could feel her pushing back against him, trying to land herself on top. He refuses to bud. Using his size and body weight to keep her pressed in place against the mattress. 

Mabel eventually stops, letting him take lead in this dance while she laid  there with her eyes closed. It was doubtful she was thinking of him. He felt a sprang of jealously imagining who else she was thinking of. 

“Look at me”, he demands, “open your eyes”.

She rolls them open in annoyance, looking directly at him above her. 

”I hate your blue eyes”, she comments. 

Coriolanus scoffs. Not even blinking at her words. 

”Get use to them”. 

The phone rang three times while Coriolanus enjoyed the fruits of his labour. 

He never picked it up. A lost tribute was low on his priority list. 

He lay in bed, next to Mabel, hot and sweaty. Without a word he rises to head to the shower. It was time to get back to work. Mabel was a wonderful distraction but a distraction all the same. 

The phone rings as he is half way across the room, but he doesn’t turn back to answer it. His good mood could last for a little longer. 

The sound of it being knocked to the ground paused him. He turns to see the phone knocked onto the ground, a pillow lying next to it. 

“Pick it up’ he demands of Mabel. 

With a huff, she obeys, slamming the receiver back on its base and throwing it back on the table. 

Coriolanus continues on to the bathroom, adjusting the water until it was at a temperature he liked. 

He lathered his body with pleasant and expensive body gel to rid himself of the smell of sex. Steam filled the room, blocking his view, but he could hear Mabel’s bare feet against the titles coming towards him. 

“What are you doing?” He asks her as she enters the shower. He runs his face under the water, not truly caring. 

“Round two?”, she quizzes. Her hands scale his body, locking around his stomach. 

He twists his body so he could throw an arm around her, bringing her flat against him.

”Two?”, he repeats, “A think we passed round two a bit ago”.

Forcefully, she pushes him back against the shower wall, and begins to attack his neck and chest with her lips.

”Round eleven then. I don’t give a shit”.

In agreement, Coriolanus pulls her closer, allowing her to move against him. Faintly he hears the phone ringing in the bedroom. He sighs moving his hands to Mabel’s shoulders ready to push her away so he could answer it.

As his fingertips land against her skin, she drops to her knees on the bathroom floor. Suddenly, Coriolanus could not care about the person on the other end of the telephone. 

For the second time that day Mabel was showing him he had won. Years of hard work and endurance was finally paying off.

He lays back against the wet title, letting Mabel do the work. The phone soon stopped leaving the sound of the running shower and Mabels slight choking sound. 

His eyes close, resting in his victory. 

Her mouth works on him with skill, her fingernails dig into the back of his thighs adding the right amount of pressure to this experience.

He came surprisingly quickly. His head bangs back into the title as he moans through his orgasm. 

Mabel asks for nothing in return. She turns her face up to the steam, washing her mouth of the taste.

How enticing she looked, on her knees, eyes squeezed shut with her tongue out. Coriolanus watches her from outside the stream. She was the same girl he always used to watch. The district girl that plagued his mind. The pretty one who washed his uniform.

How foreign it all seemed now. Dristrict 12 a faint memory. 

She is different to what he imagined. He knew she had a temper. That was clear even in the district. She was used to getting her own way. Sleeping with who she wants, when she wants. 

Mabel valued freedom above all else. He could see being trapped caused her great distress. He wondered if Dr Gaul faced the same fight with her bird. Beautiful, stubborn, thing. Was her joy in taming it equal to the joy Coriolanus felt now?

Mabel pulls back from the stream, looking up at him with her green eyes and moving forward to place a small kiss against his right hip. 

No, Dr Gaul's feat wasn’t as impressive, her joy couldn’t have matched Coriolanus’ in this second. 

Mabel leaves the shower first which allows Coriolanus to regather himself. He turns the water cold and sighs as his desire dulls without its object.  

He knew Mabel was promiscuous, but he never imagined her to be vicious. The scar on his shoulder reminds him, she is not to be underestimated. He was sure that should she have been chosen for the Games, she would have emerged as the Victor. 

He had thought she would crumble. Taken from her home to the Capitol. Thrown to the Mercy of a man she had never met. But the unknown wasn’t met with tears, but fury. He was more surprised that he wasn’t disappointed. Mabel was a continuous challenge to defeat. He hoped she would keep it up, within reason.  A pushed  away dinner here, a sly remark there, a failure to follow command; a reason. 

The cold water began to make him shiver so he turns it off with a heavy hand. He had little energy left after the evening but he forced himself to do his skincare and neaten his hair. 

The phone rang once more but it was quickly quietened. 

“Who is it?” Coriolanus shouts but gets no reply. 

“Mabel?” He calls out irritated. 

With a towel around his waist, he goes to investigate the phone call that could only be for him. 

Mabel had placed the receiver on the table, leaving it there to try and find a way to stop the phone ringing all together without causing noticeable harm. 

She was only dressed in her underwear, a sheer black lace set that no longer held any temptation for Coriolanus. 

“Get away”, he commanded her as he picked up the receiver and held it to his ear. He is met with a dial tone. Mabel had figured out how hang up. 

Unbothered, he returns the receiver to its place and walks to his wardrobe.

”It don’t bother you?” She purrs. 

“Doesn’t it bother me”, he corrects, “No”.

He puts on his pants hastily, plucking the first white shirt and the first shoes he sees. He takes them over to the bed and sits down to get ready.

Coriolanus attempts to dress. The lost tribute needed to be found. Dr Gaul was sure to criticise him for his lack of urgency but he found it hard to care. He was sure it was her on the other end, ready to tear into him. 

Mabel crawls up behind him on the bed, unbuttoning the buttons he managed to close and nibbling on his ear. 

He shoo’s her away with a shake of his head. He had to get back to the real world. Dr Gaul was waiting for him. 

“I have to go”, he complained. 

“You have to stay”, she flirt, pushing his shirt off his broad shoulders. 

“Mabel, what has gotten into you?”, Coriolanus questions. 

“You”, she teases, “and I am hoping you will again. One more time before you leave me here all by myself”.

Was this a loneliness thing? He wondered, she was always surrounded by people. He supposed she was a social little thing. Being locked up here for hours on end while Coriolanus was at work was sure to be a rough change for her. Should he look at getting her a cat?

He sighs, pushing her hands away from him. He wasn’t sure he had another round in him. Not even her lingerie could get a rise out of him. One thing could, however. He was sure of it. A secret little fantasy that he had been too ashamed to mention. But she was begging for him now, surely she would do it. 

Coriolanus gets up without a word as Mabel whinges at him, going over to his locked study draw and taking out the Peacekeeper top that was hidden there. 

The fabric felt heavy in his hands as he turned to her. His mouth dried and his lips were unable to part to form his command. Instead he throws the faded blue uniform at her. The attached belt clanged as it flew in the air, landing next to her on the bed. 

”You’ve got to be kidding me”, she scoffs looking at the grunt uniform.

”Put it on”, he demands. 

Mabel begrudgingly humours him, tossing the faded peacekeeper uniform over her body. It looked like he always imagined it would.The top just fell under the curve of her butt, hiding her, yet promising more. He is grateful he didn’t have to ask her to put on the belt. The whole thing was embarrassing enough. 

She does it of her own free will, tighting the captiol issued belt as tight as it would go, giving some of her figure back. 

Coriolanus racked his brain for something to say, but he was too distracted. After all this time, he finally had Mabel in the palm of his hand. 

She smirked at him from the other side of the room, seeing his stunned state. 

“Officer Snow”, she whispers as she tip toes over. Her hands goes to his pants, and she unbuttons them with ease, slipping her hand around the waist of his trousers and giving him a tug forward. 

He follows as she walks backwards to the bed. Her dark green eyes trained on him. When she feels the bed, she spins positions, forcing him to take a seat at her command.

”Officer, I am terribly sorry”, she teases as she takes the clothes from his body, disregarding them on the floor, "I have to wash these. You don’t mind, do you?”.

Her small hand pushes on his chest to lay him flat without much force but he folds anyway. 

She is slow and quiet as she climbs onto the soft mattress and begins to crawl over to him. 

“hm”, she nuzzles him with her nose but is too unkind to give him a kiss, “maybe that was too forward”. 

Coriolanus waits for her to continue, unable to command her to keep going even though he desperately wanted her too. 

“Officer Snow. Do you want to dance?”, she teases in a whisper, her hand going under the silk sheet and gripping his cock. She moves her hand in a slow motion up and down around him as she speaks. 

“I saw you across the room and thought you needed company. A dance or two, and then I was thinking you could sneak me back into the compound”.

Coriolanus throws his head back into the headboard, imaging the scene she sets out.

”Or maybe”, she continues in a low tone, moving to his ear, “we could just go out the back. Under the stars”.

Coriolanus was close, his peak almost reached when Mabel released her hand from him. 

He grunts in surprise, his hand flicks up and he grabs Mabel in a painful hold. 

“SH”, she scolds. His grip loosened slightly when she positions herself over him, her own hands going to his shoulders. 

“You’ll wake them”, she panders to him. 

His grip goes to Mabel's hips to control her position and movements. He allows himself this fantasy. Pictures the bunk beds of the compound and his sleeping fellow peacekeepers, none the wiser that the girl of their dreams was riding him. How he dreamed of it during his stay. He could picture it so perfectly now. 

When Mabel began to rock her hips, the sound of the ringing phone faded. He was in district 12. The dim light from the moon flooded the surrounding of metal. 

He moans as he builds again.

”SH” she teases, “Gotta keep quiet”.

”Mabel”, he grunts, “don’t stop”

”Stop?” She scoffs, “Baby, we are just getting started”.

In his mind, the Peacekeeper in the bed next to him had woken up and was peering at the scene in envy. 

He had the girl everyone wanted, and he wasn’t going to let her go. Coriolanus Snow had finally won. 

His hands move from her hips up to her face to claim a kiss. Her ringlets tickle his face as she pushes closer. He wished he could open his eyes to look at her breasts but he was sure to lose his fantasy. The phone rang angrily, demanding to be answered. It took all his focus to block it until it rang out. 

“officer Snow” Mabel breathes. 

He almost felt the coldness of the compound as he imagined it. How rumours would circulate that Mabel  slept with Coriolanus Snow. How’d you do it? He could hear them ask, “how did you get her to sleep with a peacekeeper?”

Her fingernails nails claw into the back of his neck, her bouncing became more forceful and her panting deepened as she herself grew near.

Coriolanus came first but Mabel was determined to get hers too. He moans loudly as she continues. 

When the phone rings again, his moan becomes angry and irritated. what could be so important?

Mabel grabs his face when he turns, forcing it back to her.

”Stay with me now”, she demands, “Stay right, uh, here”.

The ringing droned in Coriolanus head. He blindly reaches for it, his hand stilling upon it harshly when he feels Mabel Tense around him before her walls relaxed and her wetness flooded from her. 

“Leave it”, she demands but he picks up the receiver anyway. 

“What?” He shouts down the phone. Mabel slides off him onto the floor, pulling her panties back up her long legs.

”Sir” the voice on the other line rang, “we found her. She’s with the Plinths, but Strabo is refusing to let us take her”.

”What?” Coriolanus asked again, confused. The tribute? Why would Strabo care about a tribute? Why would an escaped tribute come here? How would they even get into the building?

”What? What? Who are you talking about? What about Strabo?” He asked dazed. Mabel giggled, pressing back more laughter with the back of her hand to her lips.  Her grin was mocking. This was the Mabel he knew. 

“The girl, sir?’ The peacekeeper explained, “Livy Kingston”.

Coriolanus bit his tongue hearing the name. This was a ruse. She had played him once more. He hung up the phone without further comment and reached for his pants on the floor. 

Mabel shrugs when he looks at her, but retreated with small steps backwards.

”Issue?” She drawls.

With a harsh tug he pulls on his shirt, not bothering to button it up.

”I am going to kill you”, he answers.

He lunges at her but Mabel was close enough to the door to escape before he could block her. He chases after her back to the living room. There was no way out for her, he could have stopped to answer the incessant ringing phone but his hands yearned for Mabels throat.  

She didn’t seemed fazed by his fury. She laughed at him, out of breath, when she stopped to face him in the living room. A healthy amount of distance between them.

”You should thank me”, she scolds. Even breathless her voice carried rage. She wasn’t scared of this fight, she wanted it.

”I taught you a valuable lesson in power; it’s not how much you have. It’s how you wield it”.

Coriolanus felt frozen as she laughed. He wanted to race over and grab her but he was unable to do much more then stare in his rage. He forced a few small steps in his hunched over form but for every one he took, she took two. 

“I saw the way you looked at that man. District blood yet powerful enough to command respect from you” she began to explain while Coriolanus slowly hunted her around the room. 

“He loves his wife, I’ll give him that. And Ma, oh poor ma, begging for affection in a place where she’ll always be viewed with two heads. It was almost too easy. You would never step to him, and ma needs a companion. A lost child for mourning parents. You never did quite fit the bill, did you Coriolanus?”

”Your parents”, he threatens through gritted teeth.

”You make sacrifices in war.”, she declares without hesitation, “I chose my sister, like they would have wanted”.

”Sacriffces?’ He scoffs at her candor.

”Once they find out my parents are dead, they’ll keep her. I know they will”.

”They are not dead yet”. He could still make her suffer. Draw out the torture. Unite them all once more to break them apart. He could still make her regret her decision. 

Tears fill Mabel's eyes, she lets them fall freely down her beautiful face, “yes, they are.” She nods, "Instructions have been given on your letter head, and issued for order. One of the peacekeepers you left at the door liked the sound of my voice. We’re going to run away together. Outside of the districts and Capitol. But I think I would rather just die here”.

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was deceived. Fooled. Another one of Mabel’s male victims that he used to pity.

Her words stop him in his tracks, forcing an angry breath out of him.

”You’re insane”, he mutters in disbelief. 

“I’ll die on my own terms. I won’t have you holding anything over me. Fuck you”.

Coriolanus felt as if she had physically punched him. His breath was caught in his throat, a panicked feeling shook his bones. His head racing and unstoppable.

“I’ve won, Coriolanus”, she sneers. 

“You have won nothing” he refutes.

He suddenly remembers the cake for Dr Gaul. How could he be so foolish. He was blinded by his own desire. Had she eaten it? Was it too late to stop her. Would his own pride even let him.

”Dr Gaul…” he states in a tense tone. 

Mabel giggles once more, shooting ice down his veins. 

“You said I don’t know what she was capable of, well now she knows what I am capable of. That is if she is even still alive. I was aiming to kill”.

With new fury, Coriolanus lunges at her, chasing her back into the dining room. His hands grip the chair, knuckles turning white from the force. 

The peacekeeper uniform mocks him from across his table. 

“What about your neighbour? I can still make sure he befalls the most painful, prolonged death of any tribute ever”.

”He was dead the second his name was called”, she runs again when Corilanus rounds the table in a fast pace.

”The shape he is put into the ground in matters little to me”, she screams. ‘

He manages to grab hold of the sleeve of the uniform but loses it with a  fighting pull from her. 

She runs back into the living room heading straight across it back to the hallway and their room. Coriolanus is close behind, catching the door as she tries to close it on him.

His large frame topples hers to the ground. He kneels over her, gripping the uniform in his hands and using it to smash her into the floor boards below repeatedly. 

“You’re crazy. How could you do that?” How could she be so beautiful but so poisonous? What of Dr Gaul? Was she really dead?

He wasn’t sure what was worse. How could he explain himself to her. What would she do to Mabel? Her fate would be worse then death. She deserved it. If Coriolanus didn’t feel so wronged he would have her thrown in Dr Gauls lab now. But he had to win. Has to gain control over Mabel in any way possible. 

As Dr Gauls understudy would he  now become head game maker? What if she wasn’t dead. What if she was too smart for Mabel? His pride couldn’t take it. He hoped Dr Gaul was dead. HE couldn’t be the only fool in this game. 

The rining of the phone never stopped stopped. It drummed into his head interfering with his unravelling thoughts. 

Unable to take it any longer, he releases Mabel to Storm over and rip the cords from the wall. The incessant ringing dies in the middle of its tone and Coriolanus could once more focus on the task at hand. 

Mabel doesn’t take off running like she should have. But crawls slowly back to the bed, trapping herself. 

She doesn’t take her eyes off him, watching as he stalked her to the side of the bed. She makes no move to throw him off when he climbs on top of her, wrapping his hands around her throat and squeezing with enough force to make her gasp. 

He wouldn’t kill her. She wants that. She would live with the guilt of killing her own parents, of trading her own sister into blood money. She would live a long, suffering, life as Coriolanus’ pet, so he it surprised him when she began smiling at him. A wicked, sinister smile that didn’t match her delicate features. 

Her hand reached for something under the bed, he almost missed it, the shine of the knife as it came hurdling towards him. He had no time to stop it. Only to misdirect it into his shoulder. 

It hurt more when she pulled it out and swung it back, this time leaving a long, deep gash down his forearm. 

With no choice he rolls of her in pain, clutching his shoulder, leaving his hand wet with his own blood. 

Mabel gets up on her feet. Daring him to attack again. 

“Another lesson, make friends with the one with the access to knife draws”. 

The comment about she has now killed the district anox was swallowed. He doubted she cared. She only used people. She didn’t care what happened to them after. 

He lunges forward trying to swipe the knife from her hand but she deflects it. Attempting to take another stab that just misses his torso. 

“Give me the knife”, he demands.

”Come and get it’, she shot back. 

In an attempt to use his sheer size to topple her, he dashed across the space quickly, but with precision she moved out of his way. Knowing even in his injured state, his strength was no match to hers. 

“Mabel, give me the knife”, he demands once more. He again attempts to swipe it which is met with the blade of the knife down his good forearm.

He cries out in pain as the skin splits into a 3 inch gash.

”You psychotic, piece of shit”, she throws, “You going to get off on this too you fucking freak?”

She swings again with the knife but he dodges at attack. 

“You think you can get away with treating people like toys? Like they don’t matter? You sick, capitol animal. It’ll be a joy to kill at least one of you”.

What a victor Mabel would have been should her name have been reaped. Maybe he would throw her in next years games just to see it. 

“Kill me, Mabel? And then what?  You’ll be thrown in the Capitol jail or worse. You think they won’t come after your sister? That Plinth can save her against Capitol wrath?”. 

“Good Coriolanus, good”, she mocks, “fear is your only weapon”.

He scoffs at her, stopping in his tracks. Blood drips down his arm and off his fingertips onto the ground below.

”Plinth couldn’t even save his own son”.

Harshing knocking on the front door echoes through the apartment, interrupting their standoff. 

Seeing him make no move, she dives down, tackling him to the ground, trying to get the knife to land anywhere before her time was up. 

He catches her wrist with his good hand, struggling to keep it up and the knife away. He attempts to buck her with his strength but Mabel refuses to budge. Clawing at his face with her nails. 

Coriolanus couldn’t see, and Mabel couldn’t hear over her own screaming so the presence of a third person went unnoticed until Mabel was thrown off him.

Coriolanus looked up to see Tigres standing over him. Her usual shocked face peering down at the scene. 

“Stop, stop, please’, she begs in her soft voice. 

“I’ll kill you too trigress, don’t make me”, Mabel states, holding the knife out. 

Coriolanus escapes off the floor, enraging Mabel once more who lunches back at him. 

“No!” Tigress screams. Her restrictive hold earns Mabels knife. Blood trickles down the top of her chest in straight red lines. 

Mabel goes again to attack Tigress. Nothing would stand in her way of the ultimate prize. 

With his good arm, Coriolanus picks up a heavy statute bringing its weight down on her head. Mabel grunts from the impact, stumbling forwards towards Tigress who hands shielded her. 

Mabel spins from her, turning towards Coriolanus and aiming for his stomach to finish the job. The statute is brought down harshly once more, and then again, until she is knocked to the ground, unable to stand up or hold her knife. 

She attempts once, but both her knife and her body go crashing down. With great effort, Coriolanus grips the neck of the uniform and drags her into the bathroom, leaving her half-conscious on the cold titles. He jams his reading chair under the handle, although he doubted she would be able to get up, even in her rage. 

Tigress comes rushing over, her hands caressing him as she cries. 

“Coryo”, a name he hasn’t heard for a while, “Coryo, are you alright”. 

“Thank you”, he breathes, looking at his older cousin. Her lip quivered, her chin formed with wrinkles as her jaw chattered against her teeth. 

“Coryo, I am so sorry”, she cries, “If I didn’t come to tell you, you might be dead”.

”Tell me what?” He asks. There’s no way she would have known about Livy.

”It doesn’t matter right now. We need to get you to the hospital”, Tigress exclaimed but Coriolanus needed to know. 

“Tell me what!”, he snapped. 

Tigress looked taken back but she answered him in a broken and strained voice. 

“Dr Gaul is dead”.

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[hidden-poet]

THE VICTOR: part 2

Summary: Dove Eastgate is a school teacher in district 12. When one of her children get picked for the games, she steps in to take their place. President Snow is both outraged and curious.

Word count: 6705

AN: Sorry boss, I actually cant stay back, I have to go home and write porn for my mental health.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 coming soon

The first thing Dove did when she returned to the apartment was to wake Blake and Red to tell them what happened. She spoke in a hush tone even knowing it didn’t truly matter. 

They tried to offer comfort, an explanation as to why President Snow would do such a thing, but could come up with nothing. Dove refused to return to her bedroom filled with roses. The smell suffocated her.

Blake got her pillow and blanket, setting her up on the couch. 

“Can you just say no?” Blake suggested, sitting down next to her on her makeshift bed.

“Not a good idea”, Red argued, “President Snow is not accustomed to be told ‘no’. It will only end badly”.

“What more could they do?”Blake bites. His posture is tense, almost locked in place as he hunches over himself. 

“Oh” Red scoffs, “So much more”.

“What does it matter”, Dove mutters, “I’ll be dead in two weeks. Let him do as he pleases”.

Blake rises at her words, storming off to his room. Dove forgot it wasn’t only her facing the prospect of death. She goes to get up after him but Red holds her back. 

“Leave him’, he says, “You will be dead in two weeks. Blake has a chance. He needs to focus on the arena, and you need to focus on surviving the tour. It’s better to die in the arena then live as President Snow’s enemy. He is not to be trifled with. He can make you suffer in ways you cant even imagine”. 

Dove shrinks back, eyeing the ceilings of the roof where she thinks the cameras are kept.

Red pats her leg before reaching out to the coffee table and taking a wrapped sweet off the table and handing it to her. 

“You did a very brave thing volunteering for that kid. You deserve to enjoy every last thing that these vultures allow”, Red stands, still looking at Dove curled protectively into her bedding, ‘Don’t let him get in the way of that”. 

Dove watches as he leaves the room. She wanted to call out, beg him to stay up with her but she pushed down the selfish desire. There was nothing Red could do. There was no point in him wallowing with her. 

“I’ll make sure there’s something really nice for dinner after training tomorrow”, Red calls out behind him but doesnt turn back to take another glance at the scared school teacher. He couldn’t afford to care about her. 

Dove was unable to sleep the rest of the night. She tossed and turned for hours, maybe catching a few hours in her fight.

When the morning peaked through the window, she was awake to greet it. 

Her head still swirled with President Snow. She would be almost glad to enter into the arena. 

After some time her mind went to her children. She wondered who would take her class and if the new teacher would remember the names of the kids and their strengths and weaknesses. 

She wished they would have allowed her a few moments before whisking her off so that she could write down important things about the children for the next teacher. She would never see their little faces again. Never play a game of chase. Never wipe away another tear. In two weeks time she would be dead. 

The thought should have brought more dread but she was numb to the idea now. At least she would never have to see another one of her children reaped. At least she could stop Mary-Blu from this fate. If only she could save Macy from the same fate. She was only a child. A tear escaped from her eye, breaking the flood of tears that she held back. She was cautious to quiet her cries, covering her face with a pillow to muffle the sound. 

Her sorrow choked her. She missed her classroom, her routine. It would be better if they left her in district 12 and just dropped her into the arena on the day. She didn’t want to learn how to fight, to showcase her strength, to pander to the Capitol who would decide how much her life was worth. She didn’t want the attention of President Snow. Even in the school books he looked intimidating and hateful. She never knew he had such close contact to the tributes. She assumed he only showed up at the parade the night before the games and to crown the winner. 

With a deep sigh, she throws the pillow on the floor and forces herself to take ten slow, deep, breaths in and out, like she taught her students. The numbness rooted itself back as a protective measure, and Dove lay staring at the ceiling as the light bounced off it. 

The apartment begins to wake as the sun rises higher. Dove had companionship to draw her from her wallowing. Breakfast was lavish but spoiled by Red as he spoke of the days itinerary. 

The tributes would be put together once more to learn about potential traps that the games might use. No commentators this time.This was a space to ask questions without worrying about the consequences to sponsorship. 

Dove would be glad to see her little friend. Dove at least knew the child was safe when she was next to her. She hoped she could keep Macy alive in the Games, but she was no match for any of the other older tributes. 

After breakfast Red presented Dove with a training suit that had a zip built on the leg of her sore ankle so that she could put it on. He didn’t like the preceding hug, quickly telling her to get dressed as she was wasting time. 

She was careful as she dressed. Manoeuvring out of her pajamas and into her suit methodology to avoid showing any skin to the hidden eyes in the room. 

Blake was already dressed waiting, chained in front of Peacekeepers. She lines up next to him, offering a playful shrug as the chains are secured around her wrists. 

“You guys scared of a school teacher?”, Blake quips. 

“It’s protocol", the Peacekeeper responds. 

The two peacekeepers lead the two tributes through the apartment halls and out a back door to the waiting van. Dove winches in pain as her ankle throbs in pain trying to get into the high van. Blake attempts to help with chained hands. A shudder ran through her, thinking he might be dead in just two weeks. 

The chains are heavy around her wrists, almost dragging her hands down. The seat under her is hard and cold and she can only see Blake in a weak, yellow light. Her solemn mood returns, she could begin to sob again. If she wasn’t worried about upsetting blake she would have let her tears run free until her throat went dry and she couldn't cry any more. 

Blake looked like he shared the same feeling, but it was always hard to tell. He always caught the fleeting emotion across his face before you could register it. He wanted to look strong, but Dove knew he was scared. 

Just as she was about to reach out and offer some comfort the van stopped in an abrupt fashion and the sound of heavy boots across gravel crunched along the outside of the van. 

“Let me get out first” Blake commanded, “I’ll help you down”. 

“Thanks” Dove accepted in tune with the doors squeaking open. 

The light as it poured in, hurt her eyes, but quickly adjusted to see the familiar hedge behind the Peacekeeper. They were not at the training center, Dove knew she wasn’t ever going to make it. 

“Eastgate”, the Peacekeeper called to her. 

Blake groans, also recognizing the landscape. 

“What more could he want from her”, Blake screams. 

Dove shushes him, moving as quickly as she could so avoid further comment and possible consequences. 

As soon as she is down, the doors are sealed shut, and Blake is left to wait while Dove is escorted inside. 

They make no move to hurry her as she wobbles towards the mansion. 

She felt like an intruder as she walked across the polished floorboards. The building held such an uninviting atmosphere. Almost threatening to swallow her whole.  

Her feet shuffle to the drawing room where they had their last encounters but she was pushed forward and up the stairs. 

Instead of being shown to the same sitting room as before, Dove was led to a large bedroom. She felt frozen as she was pushed and locked inside. Was this it? Would this be her life now until the arena. It seemed silly such a powerful, calculated man would submit to such a baseless desire. She was district. He could have anyone he pleased. Did he do this with all of the women tributes? Was it a power thing? 

She was sure he would reveal more, even advertently so. She had hopes that after this that perhaps he would leave her alone.

The room was large and cold. Dove took a seat on the end of the plush bed with her sore ankle, despite there being more than one sitting chair in the room. An ice pack sat on the nightstand ready to be used, but she didn't reach for it. 

A bare vanity set sat against the far wall with a large gold mirror. A rounded sofa that looked soft and comfortable not too far from that. A breakfast table, another lounge, a fireplace. 

The bathroom door was left open, Dove could see the black and white checkered tiles. Everything was various shades of white. At least she knew there would be no bloodshed. 

She shivered in her spot from the cold. The rest of the house seemed so warm. Her hands feel the soft comforter under her. The bed looked inviting. 

As she stared at its plush covers and soft pillows, reds words rang in her head, “enjoy every last thing these vultures allow”. 

Without a second thought, she pulled back the covers and flopped into the bed. Groaning as her body sunk into the mattress. The bed was luxurious and smelt like vanilla. 

The light didn’t bother her enough to hobble over to the curtains to draw them. Instead she places a pillow over her eyes and one under her ankle to elevate it. 

With little sleep the night before she was eager to catch even half an hour before someone woke her and scolded her for sleeping in the bed. 

Her ankle throbbed from its use but she wouldn’t use the ice pack next to her. Something about it seems wrong. 

The bed cocooned her within its fresh bedding. It took very little else for her eyes to shut into a deep sleep. 

She didn’t know how long she slept for, but when she woke the heavy curtains were drawn across the large windows, and the air was thick with warmth. She felt hazy as she sat up. She could barely see her hands in the darkness. Was it night time already? Had she slept the whole day. Why did no one wake her? They must have come in to draw the curtains. 

Her throat was dry after her sleep, and in great need of water. 

She was slow to get up. The bed didn't seem to want to release her, nor was she enthusiastic to rise from it.  

As her feet hit the carpet beneath her, the curtains are pulled back mechanically, She could hear the small motor as it whirled. Light filled the room again. The day had not gone, and no one had entered the room but someone was controlling them. Dove now felt easy as she hobbled to the bathroom.

It was as big as her kitchen and living room combined. The Panem symbol was edged into the titles on the wall. She didnt pay too much attention to anything else as she made her way to the sink. She cups the water from the tap into her hands for a drink, before making her way back to the bed. She wondered if she would get in trouble. They would properly have to burn the bed now. 

She waits on the bed for nearly an hour before she hears the door being pushed open. Only then does she rise, leading against the tall bed frame. 

A maid with a tray walks in, closely followed by a Peacekeeper.

“Why am I here?” she demanded. 

With food on the tray, they weren’t here to escort her out but keep her in. 

“Back on the bed”, the Peacekeeper yells. 

His gun twitches in his hand so Dove quickly makes her way back. 

The maid places the tray on the nightstand, exchanging  it for the ice-pack. 

“President Snow would like you to put the ice pack on your ankle”, the maid asked, handing it out. 

Dove took it in her hand and did as she was told. He was watching. Even in his own home. Was he the one controlling the curtain? Was he watching her as she slept? 

The maid and the Peacekeeper left without a word. She wondered if he was watching now, studying her from a distance. 

She eyes the tray next to her, an ice cold water bottle, dripping with condensation called out to her. Choosing to ignore him, she reaches for the tray bringing it to her lap and enjoying her lunch. 

Another long period followed of nothing. Her eyes trained on all of the details of the room, before that too held no interest. She repeated the phonetic alphabet in her head until the maid returned with another tray and ice pack. 

The Peacekeeper lingered close by but remained silent. Tea and cake is sat down, and the empty tray is taken away. 

She helps herself wondering when she would be called upon. She hoped Blake was okay and learning enough to keep him alive. 

Dove was offered nothing to keep her entertained while waiting hours in the room. She tried her best to keep herself occupied before her anxious thoughts took over. 

The day did seep into the night at some point, but dove was still confined in the room. She asked how much longer when they brought dinner but neither one could give an answer. 

Enough time had passed that Dove had begun to get tired once more. She guessed it was around 9:30 to 10:00 at night before only the Peacekeeper came to collect her. 

It was not a surprise to be led to the room where she normally met the President. The fire was lit and  warm colored lamps were positioned to create light. 

She sat in her chair and waited once more. Was this part of the torture? 

Her alertness from the adrenaline started to wear after a while, and her drowsiness started to return, forcing her eyelids shut. 

Only then does he arrive.  She sits up straight watching him as he moves. 

President Snow enters the room without care, holding a tablet stacked against a book in his hand. 

“Miss Dove”, he greets. 

“President Snow”, she returns in an irritated tone, attempting to rise in his presence. 

“No”, he protests, raising his spare hand, “Don’t get up”. 

He crosses the floor to her instead, taking a seat in his normal chair. 

He looked tired. His normal tamed curls were slightly messy, and his white shirt was crinkled with the top, with the choking buttons released. 

Without looking at her, he holds out the book to her, which she gently takes. She almost dropped it seeing the title. This was her book. Not a replica but the exact same book she left at home, complete with her dog tagged page she was up to. 

“You went to my house?”, she gasped. 

“Yes, in between running a country and organising this years Games, I had time to go back to District 12 to take a look around your house”, his eyes flicks to hers before going back to his tablet, “The camera crew brought it back for me”. 

He taps at his screen as he talks, which irritates Dove further. 

“We are doing promotional ads this year for the tributes. An effort to try and improve engagement. I’ve been overlooking the footage taken, your friend was not very well known”, he says, “All district twelve wanted to speak about is their beloved teacher. Not one bad word about you”. 

He taps the screen once more before holding out the tablet enough for Dove to see the screen.

The first interview was from little Caleb Pearson and his mother. The young boy was curled into the skirt of his mother away from the intrusive camera. 

Dove wished she could reach out and stop it. 

“What will you miss most about your teacher?” the cameraman asked. 

Small tears collect as the boy speaks, his face half covered by the fabric of the skirt. 

“She used to play with us, and help us when we got hurt, and she didn’t get mad like the other teachers, and-”

“Stop”, Dove begs. 

The video continues playing, his mother speaking over the boy to gain the attention of the camera. 

“She will be missed in this community. It doesn’t seem right. Not a sweet, young girl like that”. 

“I want Miss Eastgate to come back” the young bog wailed, turning himself fully into his mother. 

“Stop,” Dove said more forcefully, pushing away the tablet. 

She turns from him, hiding the tears in her eyes. 

“At least twenty interviews, all the same as that”. 

The tablet is thrown to the table between them, and he folds his hands in his lap. 

“You were unbearably patient today too. Tell me, are you human?”. 

“Are you?”, she bites back. 

Snow chuckles, giving Dove the confidence to look back at him. 

“Why are you doing this?” Dove asked. 

“I want you to win these games”, he answers softly, and with eyes that spoke of his sincerity. 

“Why”, she pushes. 

‘Because I’ve had a whole team of people try and find fault with you only to come up shorthanded”, his eyes bore into her making her feel subconscious but she wills her eye to remain on his. 

“Everyone has faults”, he whispers. 

“Some more than others”, she states. 

“You’re educated, so why do you act so stupid?”, he scolds. 

“It’s my fault”, she teases. 

It earns a smile from him and his unyielding eyes go to the fire. 

“You need to win people over in these upcoming interviews. I can’t send you enough food in the arena if people don’t believe you are well liked. This fading into the background must stop. You have to get people to notice you. I want everybody talking about the district twelve teacher””. 

“If you want me to win, why pull me out of training today. Don’t you think I am going to need to know how to survive?”. 

He grins once more as if he found it funny. 

“You think you’re going to survive the Games without me? You’ll learn to tie a knot and become a vicious killer?”. 

“I never said that. But learning to tie a knot might become useful”. 

“It might become useful to stop being so chummy with that district girl from three. She won’t last long once that bell sounds”.

“Anyone can win the Games”, Dove refutes, hating the image of any harm coming to that little girl. She would protect the child as much as she could, but Dove also doubted she would last long. 

“Do you think?”, he asks.

“When that bell rings,no one can predict what’s going to happen. She might get away, people might let her”. 

“That’s very hopeful.  People are terrible creatures, Miss Eastgate. Something you are about to learn. Half of me wishes you didn’t”. 

“And the other half?”, she quizzes. 

“Thinks that it’s exactly what you need”. 

Dove lets out a loud, and disappointed sigh. The man with all the power in his hands holds such a skewed viewpoint. Does he really think that, she thinks to herself, does he truly know no better. 

“The hunger games doesn’t show humanity, it rips it from children who don’t know any better”, she refutes against her better judgement. 

Snow scoffs, his body tensing in his chair as he bites back. 

“I don’t need a lecture from someone who teaches finger painting for a living”, he quips. 

“I want to go back”, Dove states. 

“You didn’t sleep well last night. You’ll be returned to your room”, he replies in a tone more suited to talk about the weather. His eyes remain on the fire, the topic not worthy enough to gain eye contact. 

“That room? No”, Dove rises from the chair which earns Snows gaze but he doesnt rise himself. 

“No, you can’t do that. I need to go back”. Blakes name almost made its way from her lips but she shut them quickly. 

“Sit down”, Snow demands in a soft but strong tone. 

“I want to go back. Take me back” Dove ordered. She wanted her voice to be loud and carry authority but it was shaky and unsure. 

“Sit down and read your book. Don’t get yourself all worked up”, Snow directed, but Dove hobbled as quick as she could pass him to yank against the door. 

He didn’t stop her, watching her from his chair as she fought against the unyielding door. 

He pulls out his communicator from his pocket, signaling for the Peacekeepers to come. 

The door is opened just moments after and Dove repeats her plea to be taken back to the apartment. 

No answer is given from the man, who took her arm and led her back down the hallway. 

In pure panic, she trashes against him, ignoring the shooting pains up her leg as she applies pressure to it. 

The Peacekeeper continues on, not speaking or retaliating against her. 

She cries out in pain as she is pushed to the floor onto her sore ankle and shut in. 

The lights turn on automatically, and she hears the hum of the aircon as it works. 

A fresh ice-pack was left on the night stand, next to some bruising cream. She rises from the floor to retrieve them. She wished she could speak to Blake. To at least let him know what was going on. Would he think she was dead? Would she ever see him again before the games? Yes. They had the interviews and the parade to go yet. It would be odd to see a tribute without their counterpart in both events. Snow would be forced to allow Blake close enough to explain. 

She wanted to cry but refused to do so when she knew he was watching. She was tough enough to wait until complete darkness. 

The door opens hastily, almost breaking her concentration, a hand flicks her book to the ground before shutting the door once more. 

She scoffs but retrieves the book from the floor, bringing it back to the bed. She doesn't read for hours to come. Too occupied with her racing thoughts to stare at a page. She rests in the bed, with the icepack against her ankle. She thought of ways to save both Macy and Blake, but her fantasies were too far-fetched to be anything but more depressing. 

She forces herself to pick up the book and read, trying to distract herself from crying. 

It worked for about an hour before she was given the command to stop. 

The lights flicker and the curtains begin to draw. She knew it was Snows way of commanding bed time. 

Obeying, she throws the book to the nightstand and rolls to her side under the covers. 

The curtains draw close and the lights are switched off. She held off on crying for as long as she could. Hoping he would see her asleep and keep from looking in. 

She cries herself to sleep while Snow watches from his own bed. Only when he was sure she tired herself out, does he put down his tablet and go to bed himself. 

—--------

The next day played the same. The opening of curtains woke her up, half an hour before breakfast was brought by a maid and peacekeeper. It was then lunch and dinner, before Snow called her to the sitting room. 

A Peacekeeper came to collect her, letting her know she was called upon. To her surprise, President Snow was already waiting in the room for her. 

He sat in his usual chair in his usual perfect and composed manner. 

“Dove, how are you feeling today?” He asks after the door is shut. 

She hobbles over to her chair. Her ankle feeling considerably better. Enough to put her weight on her foot with bearable pain. 

“Better. Thank you” she answers politely for fear anything else might upset him. 

“Good. We need to talk about the upcoming interviews. Hilltark did some screen testing. People love the school teacher angle which is good news. You’ll be the first victor to win because the crowd loves you”. 

“I won’t win”. 

“I am working on a place you can hide. Provided the crowd show their admiration through donations, or at least chatter of donations, no one will question the care packages”. 

“I won’t win”, dove repeats. 

Snow sighs loudly. His harsh gaze goes to her but his voice remains calm. 

“The interview will be a chance to win people over. Make them feel the need to protect you. You’re sweet, act sweet. Talk about your children, but don’t cry”. 

Even the fleeting  thought of her class brought Tears to her eyes. It was an impossible task. 

“We’ll have the questions beforehand so we can form answers. Stick to the script, smile, stand out. I’ll take care of the rest”. 

Dove shakes her head no. She feels her chest tighten with anxiety and her throat close with test, yet she persisted with her next sentence. 

“No.no. I won’t kill”, she states. 

“I am not asking you to kill anyone, dear”, snow refutes. 

“I won’t cheat”, she gets more to the point. 

“I won’t watch you die”, he said in a low and serious tone. 

“Why do you care?” Dove snaps, “Why are you Doing this? Why not leave me to die in peace?”. 

If the door wasn’t locked, Dove would have stormed out but she was trapped. 

“I am afraid I can’t” he all he returns. 

“And if I was to ask you to save Macy instead-”, Dove tries but is quickly cut off. 

“I would say you are wasting your breath”. 

“So I thought", Dove conceded.  

“We have less than a week to get the Capitol to love you. Once you’re in the arena you’ll need their support so I can help you in there without too many questions. When the bell rings, you ignore the weapons in the middle and you run west”, he stretches out his left arm as he talks ‘‘until you reach the cave”.

His arm is retracted back in but he stands and paces in front of her as he talks.

“It will protect you from the cold. I’ll send you food and water to keep you going until the others have taken each other out”.

The image of Blake laying dead on the grass makes her shudder. She couldn’t follow through with this plan. 

“The other tributes have been warned not to touch you but Hunter and Caleb are your biggest threats. They have no family back home so no guarantee they will do as they are told”. 

They were both large men at the top of the age bracket. If they wanted to kill Dove, she wouldn’t stand a chance. Macey wouldn’t either. 

Snow stops pacing so he could turn towards Dove, still in her chair looking up at him.

“You’ll live. You’ll come home to me”, he states. 

Dove was livid at his words. That wasn’t the deal for the victors. 

“If I live, I'll go back to district 12. Back home”, Dove asserts even though she had no intention of living. 

“You think I’ll save you for those district children?” Snow mocked. 

“You plan to keep me from dying in the arena, so what? I’ll-I’ll be locked up here?” Dove shook with rage, “why?”.

Dove racked her brain to think of the last female victor but could think of none. Were there others here? Locked away from the sight of Pamen?

“Have you done this before?” Dove asked, “Rigged other games?”.

Snow is silent. She could see him thinking by the way his blue eyes shined. 

“No”, he answers, “I’ve never cared before”. 

“I guess I should count myself lucky”, she snapped. 

“I guess you should”, he returned. 

“Is this what you do with all of the female tributes? Bring them here, violate them and send them to the arena to die? Your own sick little game”. 

“I’ve not touched you once”, Snow reminds her. 

He leans down, reaching out to take her shoulder in a tight and painful hold. He remains eye level with her despite being much taller, as he talks. 

“I’ve never met anyone with such little will to live. I’ve seen your transcripts, smart for a district, but no common sense. Surrounded by a group of people who will kill you for their own survival and you want to make friends with them. You pick the weakest tribute to make a pack with, and you throw yourself into the arena, because why? Stupid? Soft? Suicidal? You are the only tribute I have ever wanted to touch. The only one that’s never made sense”. 

His hand moves closer to her neck with the same amount of unyielding pressure. 

“I take great offence to your comment. There’s only you I plan to violate”.          

“I am not your puppet”, Dove scolds. She was not going to die a plaything. It would be a great joy to die in the arena on her own terms. 

He smirks at her, yanking her upright by his hold, and twisting his fingers into the back of her head. The pressure is enough to keep her head still but not enough to hurt. 

‘Aren’t you?”, he quietly asks. 

He slowly pulls his hold down, the pressure of her roots forcing her head back. 

She wanted to cry out from the pain but sealed her lips shut. He kept going until she grimaced, keeping his hold there. 

“Rise your left arm”, he ordered. When she refused to move, he yanked further down harshly. 

She was going to die in the games, why prolong her suffering now, she thought.  

So she shuts her eyes from his harsh stare and raises her left arm.

“Good”, he praises, “Now put it down and raise your right”.

She does as she is told, and his finger loosen a bit in her hair. 

“Everyone is my puppet, Miss Eastgate, some are just more favoured than others”.

She feels his lips on her exposed neck and her extended right hand shoot back, making contact with his shoulder. She grips his white shirt in her hand, unable to open her eyes from fright. She talked too much.. Push to him too hard, and now there was no one to save her from this. 

The pressure on the back of her head forced her to her knees, where he used her body weight on top of her to force her flat on the ground. His fingers never left the back of her hair, using the hold to keep her still while his lips left wet patches on her skin. 

When he was ready to move on, he only released one hand from her hair so he could take hold of her hand and bring it to his top button. Her hand was too shaky to undo them even if she wanted to. He kept her hand squeezed tightly in his while his slim fingers undid his buttons. 

She couldn’t look at him. She knew begging would be useless so she lay flat.

The pressure on her head is released but her hand remains tightly squeezed between his. She hears him taking off his belt, and loosening his pants before her hand is shoved between the fabric and his skin. She feels his cock as her hand lays limply against it. It presses more firmly into her when he leans forward again to kiss her. Once on her lips and then again into the hollow of her throat. 

“Please”, she quakes. 

He shushes her gently, his thumb going into her mouth and pressing down on her tongue to silence her. 

He sits up right, and Dove yanks her hand from his pants to cradle them against her chest. Her training suit is unzipped and single handedly simmered down her body. 

His thumb was removed from her mouth so he could undress fully. She could feel the heat from the fire on her naked body and where his skin blocked the radiance. 

He sticks his fingers back in her mouth, forcing them between her sealed lips and chattering teeth. 

“Suck”, he commands. 

She does, weakly.

“Open your eyes”, he orders once more. 

This she shakes her head ‘no’ to. 

“No?” He comments but makes no further push. 

The fingers on his spare hand come down, wet with his own saliva, and intrude between her folds. 

“If only district 12 could see their beloved school teacher now. What would they think?”.

Her words are choked down by his fingers. He removes them as she gags, taking a forceful hold of her jaw instead. 

He gives her no warning as he pushes inside of her. She makes a frightful and strangled sound as he thrusts into her. She places her hand on top of his for nothing more than an anchor. She forces her mind to wonder but she could only manage seconds of relief to her current situation. 

She could feel his eyes on her. It felt harsher than the heat from the fire burning her skin. It was a relief when he lowered his head. His hair tickled her skin from where it rested. 

“Lucy-Gray”, she heard him whisper before his thrusts became more forceful. 

The name shot shivers down her spine. Who was she to him? And why did the name sound so familiar?

His grip on her jaw became tighter seconds before he came before loosening to nearly nothing. As soon as she felt the warm liquid dribbling down her thigh and onto the white carpet, her eyes shot open. Underneath him, she reached for her training suit, pulling it to her and attempting to put it on while he hovered over her. 

He was too close to make it possible. She got both arms through, at the cost of close contact with him, and covered her breasts, but his belly was pressed down against her and his hips pinned her down. 

She refused to look at him although he did not pay her the same courtesy. She half hopped this would be it. That now she would be returned to the apartment and left to die in the arena, now that lust no longer clouded his judgement. 

He sat back on his heels to help her dress. Only when she was fully zipped in did he rise to dress himself. 

When they were both fully dressed, Dove felt less vulnerable and was able to look up at him and he smoothed his hair back to be neat. 

He sighs, satisfied, and extends his hand to help her up. She does not take the offer, choosing to lie in the wet spot. He retracts his offer, standing tall and pulling out his communicator. 

She waits for the Peacekeeper while Snow sits in his chair. His legs extended over hers. 

Neither of them talk. When there is a knock at the door, Dove sits up, getting ready to leave. But instead of a Peacekeeper, it was a maid with a silver tray. Dove watches as the silent, and tired looking maid places the tray down on the table between the chairs and leaves without a word or a thank you. 

“Tea?” Snow asks, pouring a cup. 

“I want to go”, Dove requests, tearing up. 

“Sit on your chair and have a cup of tea”, he demands. 

His puppet follows command, sitting in her chair and taking the offered cup and sourcer. 

Snow makes his own cup of tea, taking a sip before beginning his next sentence. 

“That wasn’t your first time”, he comments, “who was?”.

She shakes her head no, gazing into the fire, willing it to spit up and burn the house to the ground. 

“A boy in college”, Dove answered robotically. 

“His name?”, Snow pushed. Dove doesn’t answer this, worried he wanted to know for reasons further than curiosity. 

“What happened?”, he redirected, taking another sip of his tea. 

“He was recruited to a different district”. 

“Which one?”.

Dove again doesn't answer, making Snow scoff. 

“Do you like teaching?”.

“Yes”.

“I’ve made inquiries, there is a possibility you could continue to teach after the Games. A class, here and there to Capitol children”. 

“I love my children”, Dove sobs. Large tears spill from her eyes, and her hands shake uncontrollably. His offer broke any resolve she had, and she openly broke down in front of him. 

The tea slipped from her hands, staining the white carpet with an ugly black mark. ‘Over my white carpet?’, she remembers him saying. She drops to her knees, her tears dropping over the mark as she desperately tries to rub it out with her bare hand. 

“Leave it, leave it”, Snow requested, dropping down to his knees to force her against him. 

She continues to hysterically sob as he holds her close, one arm wrapped around her shoulders, and one hand pressing her head into his chest. 

“Hardly a threat to anyone aren’t you?”, he mocks softly. 

“I want to go home”, she cries. 

“You will”, he promises, although he knew she never would. She would die in the arena or remain trapped in the Capitol with him. 

“You will”, he repeats again, pulling her head from him so he could look at her, “But we have a lot of work to do before that’s a reality. You have to listen to me, okay? Do as I say so I can protect you. There’s no home without me”. 

He could tell her from her glazed look that she was not listening to him. His words and comfort meant nothing to her. 

With a sigh, he pulls her back into his arms, letting her cry herself sick. 

When her composure returned, she willed herself to stop crying and fought against his hold. 

He releases her, pulling out his communicator once more. This time she was hopeful he was calling a Peacekeeper. 

“Why don’t you return back to your room and have a shower, hm? I’ll have them put out fresh clothes”, he suggests. 

Dove nods her head ‘yes’, wanting to rid herself of the stickiness between her legs and the tightness of the suit.

He reaches out to touch her face but she knocks his hand away. 

“No book tonight”, he directs, “You should go to sleep”. 

There is no knock as the peacekeeper enters. He only stands at attention at the door. 

Dove quickly gets up, going as quickly as she could away from this room. 

“Dove”, he calls out after her. She turns to look back to see what he wanted. 

“Do you regret it? Volunteering?”. 

Dove thinks about it. She imagines Mary-Blue in her spot. Dove doubted she would be subject to the same treatment, but Snow openly admitted to rigging the reaping as some sort of punishment. She at least spared a child from the games, and got to interfere with Snows plans. All in all, not a bad trade. Let him do what he wanted to her. In her heart, she has already won. 

“No”, Dove answers honestly.  

Snow smiles at her and she turns to the Peacekeeper pushing him out of the door and back towards her bedroom where she could cry some more. 

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[hidden-poet]

The Victor: PART 1

Summary: Dove Eastgate is a school teacher in district 12. When one of her children get picked for the games, she steps in to take their place. President Snow is both outraged and curious.

Word count: 10,000

Part 2

For the 18th Hunger Games, President Snow announced that as a special event this year's reaping would consist of anyone from the ages of 10-24. 

It was backlash for a young rebel group found forming. 

It upset all the districts as intended. More fear than ever coursed through district 12 on reaping day. 

Dove Eastgate escorted her young school students over to the square. Parents who were too valuable to have reaping off left their kids with Dove for minding until the games. 

There were only four of them this year. Most business and trade shut for reaping day. It was too grim for anyone to do anything other than morn. 

Dove held two of the children's hands as they walked to the square. Ranging from 6-8 they were too young, but it filled her with dread that one day one of these babies could be reaped. 

“Miss Eastgate! Miss!” Edwina called from behind the group. 

“Edwina, come on now. We cant be late”, Miss Dovegate addressed, turning to the small girl. 

If your name wasn't crossed off and you weren’t standing perfectly in line when it was time to broadcast, there were serious ramifications, even for a small child. 

“Look”, the child complained, kicking up her shoe with the undone laces. 

Dove smiles, letting go of the reluctant little hands to help Edwina. 

“Left over right. Punch it through, pull it tight” she sang, trying to teach the small girl as she went, “Bunny ear, Bunny ear, where are you? Chase the little rabbit, chase the little rabbit, pull him though”. 

The child sang along with her, remembering the rhyme from class. 

“Well done!” Dove gushes. The first step was remembering the words, before the actions. 

“Miss Eastgate” Edwina suddenly turned serious, “my brother is 10”.

Dove cringed with the knowledge the little girl had the weight of this problem on her little shoulders. The parents should have kept the news hidden, but emotions flared as the news circulated the village. 

Dove reaches up to comfort Edwina by placing her hands softly on her arms. 

“And you’re going to play with him this afternoon”, she promises, “How about”, she looks back at the other young children who seemed too anxious for their age, “after the reaping, we all go to the clearing and have a big game of bull rush!”

It brightened the children's spirts. Who all agreed it was a good idea.

‘And tag?” one of them asked.

“Yep, and tag” Miss Eastgate promised. 

She wondered if she could be as playful as she normally is with the two tributes on her mind. If there was a god, it would be older people this year. 

“Come on, darlings. We have to go”, the children's hands are taking once more and she leads them to the sign in. They follow like little ducklings. 

Dominic, who always claims he isn’t a baby and in fact a big kid, hangs on to Dove’s dress as they walk. 

She gets the children signed in and escorts them to their place in line. 

They all looked frightened despite being in no real danger. The air just carried a desperation that they were susceptible too. 

Reaping day was hard for young children. There was no room for error. Dressed in their best, they couldn’t play for fear of not looking presentable enough for tv. They couldn't understand why they had to have not a hair out of place, only that they must or be belted. 

Dove bends down so she could speak to them. 

“During the Reaping, don’t make a sound. Don’t move. Just think about all the games we are going to play after. You list them quietly in your head from best to worst”.

They all give some variation of ‘Yes. Miss Eastgate’, and she leaves them with blown kisses. 

She then goes to stand in line with her sex and age group. It crosses her mind that she might be picked, but the pool was too big for her odds to be too high. Still someone's name had to be called. At 24, she thought the hunger games were behind her. No longer a constant threat every year. This was a starkling reminder that she is never truly safe from the capitol. 

The Capital was a strange place with strange people. Dove looks at the Capitol people on stage standing around talking waiting for the show to begin. They had weird hair and clothing. 

This year's announcer wore all purple. From her shoes to her hair and the fascinator she wore in it. 

It was toned down from last year, where the presenter carried a live snake over her shoulder. It hated being there and she kept having to readjust it which made her job hard. 

Peacekeepers cover the place with large guns. Each capitol citizen was assigned their own Peacekeeper in addition to those whose job it was to keep district 12 in line. 

Any up roar would be met with a wave of bullets and no escape. 

The Tv crackles before the national anthem plays. 

Everyone sings as they are supposed to and the TV men begin their work of capturing the event.  

The Reaping starts with a welcome from the capitol. A short man with spiky hair and a bright blue suit speaks from the stage the tributes will be interviewed on in a couple of weeks. 

The welcome is followed by a short introduction of himself, and the reasoning behind the games. He speaks of the Treaty of Treason formed to commemorate the defeat of the Districts, and deter any future rebellions. The importance of Hunger Games and how it keeps peace in the nation. 

Then its off to district 1 for the reaping of the first child. 

A morbid relief floods Dove as it reaches District 10 and mostly older children are called. 

The youngest was a 15 year old girl who looked like she could hold her own despite her age. The oldest was a 24 year old man who ragged at being picked. It took a taser to bring his fit down.

Dove looks over to the children. They should have to watch this. 

The next district’s tribute was a young girl. Possibly 11 but she could have easily passed for 9 with her small frame and child like features. A sick feeling came upon Dove as she watched the crying girl on stage. 

Soon it’s district 12’s turn and the presenter fakes an excited front as she reaches into the large bowl and plucks the unlucky name out. 

Dove waits to hear the ‘D’ sound but the presenters lips present a different sound. 

“Mary-Blu” the name called. 

Dove could have thrown up. Mary-Blu had just turned 10 two weeks ago. How was that fair? She was small and cute. She wouldn’t last a minute in the arena. 

It caused commotion in the crowd for someone so young to be picked but the Peacekeepers pointed their guns ready and the commotion died down. 

Dove could hear Mary-Blu as she wailed. A Peacekeeper comes to collect her, when she made no movement from the line. 

“Wait”, Dove uttered, watching as the little girl was dragged to stage, “wait!” she said louder. 

Her brain screamed at her to stay put and not make a sound. She had other kids to think about, but her feet moved from the line to the aisle. 

“Wait, please!”, she called out. The Peacekeeper stopped and turned to see who could be so stupid. The others raised their guns, ready to open fire.

Dove had the attention of everyone, even Mary-Blu’s family had stopped screaming in preparation of what she was about to say. 

“I volunteer as tribute” Dove announced. 

Murmurs erupt in the crowd around her. No one had ever volunteered before. 

Coriolanus, watching from the control room, slammed his fist into the table. 

“What is she doing?” he muttered. 

He turns back to his head showman who was standing behind his chair.  

“Tell them to find out more about this. Why she is volunteering, her name, if she’s in the age group, anything and everything”. 

“Settle down, settle down” the escort demanded. The peacekeepers raised their gun with authority and the murmurs drop back to silence. 

The information makes its way to the presenter's earpiece and she beckons Dove up.

“Come up here dear, and tell us your name”. 

With stiff legs, she makes her way from the back up the dirt runway with confidence that Coriolanus admired. 

The Peacekeeper lets Mary-Blu go as Dove passes and the little girl flings herself to Dove. 

“Go back in line”, Dove demanded, pulling the little girl off. 

Mary-Blu runs off and Dove wishes she could too. But she wouldn't get far. 

Her legs wobbled as she climbed the steps to the stage. It had been years since she thought she would be up here. 

“What’s your name dear?” the presenter asked, 

The escort grabs the standing microphone between her long painted claws and brings it closer to the Dove’s lips. 

“Dove Eastgate”, she answered. 

“Well Dove you did a very brave thing. Everybody give a round of applause for our tribute”. 

Dove begins to talk through the crowd clapping but the presenter is slow on the capturing it through the mic. 

“We don’t have to do this”, she uttered in shock.   

The mic gives an awful feedback sound as it is pulled away from her. 

“She said the girl is her neighbour” the woman gave an awkward laugh, “isn’t that nice! Anyway we must really move on! Aren’t you dying to know who the male tribute will be? I am!”

Dove is forgotten as the Presenter approaches the bowl with the male tributes and plucks a name. 

“Blake Newman!” she calls. 

Dove knew Blake. A man of just 21. They weren’t friends by any measure, but her heart lurched to think of them trapped in the arena together. 

“My! The older tributes will sure make for an interesting game this year. Don’t you think so?” the women spoke into the mic as Blake made his way up. 

He made no sound and gave no sign of his displeasure as he joined the stage next to Dove. 

“Another round of applause please” the woman orders. Slow and half-hearted clapping ensures. 

“Thank you all for coming to see our tributes off. Happy reaping and may the odds be ever in your favour”

It was clear that the districts were now to disperse. 

Peacekeepers immediately approached and shackled this years tributes. 

A long chain attached wrist cuffs to ankle cuffs and the tributes were ordered to move. 

Dove felt the panic flood in as they walked to the van that would take them to the train out of district 12.

Blake seemed bothered but she knew what he was feeling. 

They are locked into the back of the van still chained. 

“Blake, I am so sorry”, Dove offers. 

“Feel sorry for yourself”, he bites back, “You won’t last long”. 

Dove slumps back. It was true. Dove could not kill. She would die in the hunger games. Her mind casts to the picked tributes and wonders which one of them will do it. 

The ride is bumpy, and moves fast. Even when they got to their destination. They were kept in the back for what could have been an hour. Only when everyone else was ready to go, did Peacekeepers open the door. 

They took Blake first and then dove, leading them to cells on the train. Blake is locked in first and then they take Dove to the furthest one from him. 

The Capitol didn’t want the tributes to talk unless they allowed it. 

The chains were taking off but the door was locked tightly shut. 

Dove found the closest corner and rolled herself into a ball. The cell was dark and cold. Despite it being only noon, it felt like it was midnight. 

In the dark, she felt comfortable enough to cry. Her sobs rang off the metal cell and back over her. 

She has no idea how long had passed, but finally someone had come to free her. 

It was the presenter women now dressed in the brightest blue Dove had ever seen. From her lipstick down to her very high shoes, the blue almost reflected off her. She has a birdnest of blonde hair that was curled into little ringlets high above her. 

“Get up!, she called in a strong voice. 

Dove got up to face her, stepping into the light that was casted into her cell. 

“Dinner is ready”, the women said. 

Dinner time already. It was only noon when the reaping occurred, 

Dove followed the women into the next cart. 

From the cold, dark prison to the lush and elaborate dining hall. Dove felt as if she shouldn’t be there.  

Blake sat at a long table, next to a man with long plaited hair. The man rose as you entered but blake remain seated. 

“Hello”, the man greeted, “I am red, your mentor”. 

“Mentor?” dove asked, reaching out to shake his hand. 

“I won the games three years back, now I’ll try and help you win yours” the man explained. 

“District 11” Blake calls between bites of food, “He’s the one who beat the dude with a rock’’.

Red looks down ashamed.Dove wanted to scold Blake for his candor but didnt want to draw anymore attention to the fact. 

“We all do things to survive the games”, Red defends. 

He takes a couple of steps back, retreating to the table once more. 

“I am starving!” the presenter announced, looking around the room full of food for a bell. 

She rings it furiously until the cart opens and servants arrive with plates of food. 

Dove takes a spot next to Blake, trying her best to avoid the women.

A roast is put down in front of her, beautifully presented and already cut up into bite sized pieces. 

Dove quickly picked up her fork and took her first bite. She hadn’t realised her hunger until her nose picked up on the scent. 

It was seasoned with rosemary and butter. The meat was so tender it melted on her tongue. 

Red was quite the rest of the evening. Dove could tell Blakes comment triggered him. 

The woman was loud enough that the rest could simmer with their thoughts. 

Dove thought about the kids she left behind. She wondered if they would even remember her given a few years. 

She would never see them grow. Watch them as they fall in love and find work. They weren’t hers by any measure but she did love him. Each one unique and special to her. 

She would never play with or teach them again. Soon she would a faint memory of the school teacher who died in the hunger games. But Mary-Blu would live on. She would get to grow and fall in love. Dove would trade that, not even for her life. 

A Dessert was put in front of her, a rich chocolate cake with cream. She pushes it away, giving it to Blake when he asks. 

After dinner they were escorted back to their cells by peacekeepers. Bedding had been put on the floor, and Dove curled into it. Tomorrow they would reach the capitol and their lives would be over. 

Breakfast was a buffet of food that Dove couldnt eat. She sipped on orange juice until it was taken away. 

After breakfast, Red gave an overview of what the next few weeks would look like. They would be stripped and showered once they reach the capitol, and have their initial photos taken. After that they would be taken to their accommodation and Red would prep them for the round of interviews. 

A couple of days of interviewing and training, they would have their chariot rides where they would be introduced to the capitol. Then some more training, and ranking. 

Then their big interview with Caesar and then finally they would be led to their death on game day. 

“It’d be quicker to be killed by a peacekeeper” Blake quipped. 

Red quickly reminded him that as kind as it would be, it wasn’t an option. The peacekeepers wouldn’t kill him before the Games. But they would torture him to the point he wished for death. 

“Enjoy your walk to the slaughter”, Red reminded him, “or enjoy the only pause of torture being for appearances”. 

They were put back in their cells. 

A window let the natural light in and Dove stood on her tippy toes to peer out of it. The train was going so fast, everything sped past in a different shade of green. She stood until her leg muscle quivered, forcing her to sit back on her bedding. 

When the light began to be cut off in flashes, Dove knew they were entering the capitol. 

She stood once more, peering out of the window. Buildings towered the sky and the train curved around them into a long tunnel. 

She could feel the train as it slowed to a halt. Her window now shows the brick of the station. It was late afternoon and pink light casted through the gloomy and deserted train station. 

Ever since hovercrafts, the capitol people mainly use trains for moving produce. 

She could hear as the train got unloaded. Heavy clanks as things were dropped and workmen communicating with each other. 

Still no one came to collect the tributes. They were the last thing to be unloaded. 

In chains once more, they are led to a peacekeeper van and loaded into the back. The presenter women and Red were nowhere to be seen. District 12 tributes have been abandoned before the game even started. 

“Why did you do it?”Blake asks suddenly. His eyes focus forward, not looking at her. 

“I am sick of watching children die. That little girl from 3, what chance does she have?”

“What chance do you have?” Blake shot back. His eyes turn to her and she turns cold from his stare. 

A man of only 21 but of strong build and a face that wore his troubles. 

“A better chance than Mary-blu”, Dove contends. 

He turns back to front and all further conversation stops. 

The van pulls up and Peacekeepers escort the tributes into a hall. 

More Peacekeepers are positioned in every corner of the room with large guns. The room is crowded with capitol members, all dressed in white and running in between sheets hung up indicating different sections. 

Other tribute members were already there. District 12 was last to arrive. 

Dove is split up from Blake and taken behind a curtain. 

She is told to take off her clothes and lay on the table. The capitol staff were more interested in talking to each other that Dove felt alone enough to follow order. 

They start with washing her with hot water. Shower heads that retracted into the sides of the table spring out with soap and a heavy stream of water. 

Dove closes her eyes and allows them to work. They wash and blow dry her hair. Shape and dye her eyebrows. Cut and buff her nails. None of it hurt. The staff even seemed gentle as they worked. 

The only discomfort was when they brought the laser out and zapped every inch of hair on her. Even then they worked quickly and soothed her skin with ointment. 

When it was time to get up, she felt woozy from having laid flat for so long. They gave her time for the blood to rush back and a black jumpsuit with 12 stitched on the back. 

“Good luck”, one of them said to her before pointing her in the direction of the line. 

The female tributes lined up adjacent to the male tributes. All to the same destination- a white backdrop and a flashing camera. 

The men's line moved first. 

Over the sound of the camera man shouting demands, Dove could hear the little sobs of a girl too young to take hold of her emotions. 

Dove steps to the left out of the line so she could find the little girl. 

She was near the front but Dove could hear her at the back. 

“What good is she to me crying” The camera man turns to no one in particular and points to the girl, “wash her face, get her ready for the photo”, he calls to no one. 

A Peacekeeper makes a move, and Dove races from the back to reach the girl before he could. 

“I’ve got her” Dove announces, pulling the girl into her. 

The Peacekeeper allows it, going back to his spot in the room. 

Dove bends down the girl, stroking her hair and hugging her close. 

“It’s okay, darling” she says as if this was all a bad dream.

Dove holds the girl close until she runs out of tears. By that time the men had finished the photos and the women began theirs. 

“I don’t want to die” the little voice sobbed. 

Dove takes the girl from her shoulder, holding her head up in line with her own. 

“And you won’t” Dove promised, although she was unsure. 

She held the little girl until the line had run out and it was her turn for the photos. 

“It’s just a photo”, Dove says to the little girl, “A few flashes and its over”.

Dove holds the hand of the district 3 girl, leading her to the stool in front of the white backdrop. 

“Look forward,” the Camera man directed. 

The girl looked to Dove, who nodded in encouragement. 

“Wow, very beautiful”, Dove praises. 

The little girl smiles a little and continues to turn and pose as directed. 

The flashing stops and the Cameraman calls for the next. 

Dove steps up to the stool, rubbing district 3’s back, telling her what a good job she did, before Dove took her place. 

Forward, side, on the stool, off the stool, smile, don’t smile, close lips, show teeth. The cameraman directed between flashes of light. 

Soon the camera is dropped from the strap around his neck, and the Cameraman announces he is done. 

Peacekeepers come over with chains, beginning with the men first. 

“I am Dove”, she greeted, crouching down to the 10 year olds level and holding out a hand. 

The little girl took it in a weak grasp. How was she ever going to win these games? It was a lamb and the slaughter. 

“Macy” the little girl returned. 

“Macy!”. Dove repeated enthusiastically, “one of my students is named Macy. She’s very brave. I hear all Macy’s are. Is that true?”

The little girl nodded her head. Her balled fist came to rub tears irritating her eyes. 

“You’re a teacher?”Macy asked. 

Dove hums, “Yes, i love it”. 

“I hate school”, Macy admits, causing Dove to chuckle for the first time in days.

“But I think i would have liked it if you were my teacher," the girl continued in a low voice. 

A Peacekeeper comes over and demands that Dove stand straight so he could put the chains on. 

“I think I would have liked you being in my class too”, Dove addresses the little girl while the Peacekeeper secures her wrists in heavy metal. 

She bids goodbye to the little girl as she is led out to district 12’s van. 

The Capitol was impressive. Just the glimpse of the street while she waited to be loaded was enough to wow her. 

Everything was clean, and draped in a charming yellow light. Once it hit dark in District 12, you could only see what was in front of you. Here, the light stretched, illuminating the city. 

She was shoved towards the van and takes the direction into the back. 

Blake is quiet on the ride back. He doesn’t look at Dove, or acknowledge what they just went through. 

Dove tries not to bother him, but she notices the changes made. His long dark hair was cut back, his eyebrow seemed darker and neater, the three day growth was now gone, leaving him baby faced once more. He used to have a mole on the top right of his head that was now zapped off. 

He no longer looked like a district 12 boy but this year's capitol tribute. 

The ride back seemed longer. When the doors were finally opened,they were not in the underground parking lot but somewhere else entirely. 

The sight of a group of Peacekeepers greeted them. They wore high ranking uniforms and stood in front of a lit garden. 

“Eastgate”, the Peacekeeper called. 

Dove got up at the sound of her name and made her way out. Blake rose also and followed. 

“Only the girl”, they pushed Blake back into the van. 

Dove turns back in panic. The last view of Blake's worried face before the doors closed on him, and the van took off. 

Her breath got caught in her throat. Why only her? And why was the van leaving? Was she not to return? Did they plan to kill her before the Games even begin?

A Peacekeeper takes hold of her arm and leads her where he wants to go, forcing her head straight away. 

The sight of the presidential estate made her knees weak. She knew it from pictures and television, but not once did she think she would ever see it in the flesh. 

It was much larger than the images portrayed. Much grander, and the stone was unfathomably white. 

The steps alone took ages to climb, before they even reached the towering doors. Inside felt like a field. The hardwood floor was covered in different, expensive rugs and the decor tried to fill the empty space. 

It was another long walk to the room they wanted her in. It was a sitting room with more expensive rugs, an unlit fireplace, and collections of places to sit and talk. 

“Why am I here?”, she asked the Peacekeeper as he took off her cuffs. 

He smirks back to her, not taking his eyes off his work, “President Snow requested it”. 

His smile was mean, and spoke of an underlying threat to her presence there. 

The Peacekeepers left her there in the dark room. She tried to think what separated her from Blake, and soon realised her mistake. 

She spoke out against the Capitol. ‘We don't have to do this’, who was she to say that?

President Snow wanted to remind her of her place. That why she was brought here. 

Dove begins to cry thinking about her fate. Best was a quick death, worst was tortured and then thrown to the Hunger games, middle ground was losing her tongue. Anyway she could not face it with a brave front. 

No one could ask her to. Dove would not consider herself a brave person. Meak in nature, and kind in spirit. She was not a person who could take punishment without quivering.  

She clutches the soft fabric of the chair in front of her. Her knees wobble under her, and her sight is impaired with tears. 

Still she wouldn’t turn back time and revoke her tribute. Mary-blu was a child. Her first year in the lot didn’t seem fair. 

Dove always wondered how her name was never called anyway. Her name was in it 10 times. 8 times over 12-19 years, and two more times when desperation sought her to swap her chance of life for supplies. But she never was. She thought she was free until now. 

The door opens, letting in a flood of light before it is blocked by a body. 

Dove couldn’t see who it was until the door was locked again. President Snow stood tall, dressed in all black and a head full of perfect, blonde curls. 

“Miss Eastgate” the president addresses, flicking on the light. 

“President Snow” Dove greets. She was surprised to see him and not a representative. 

He reaches into his suit pocket and retrieves a pure white handkerchief that boasted his initials in gold stitching. 

He passes it to Dove who takes it with trembling hands to wipe her tears. 

“Please sit” he commands. 

Doves’ weak legs take her to the front of the chair where she sat in front of a cold fireplace. 

The president takes the seat next to her, only separated by a small table. She was surprised at the civility of it all. 

Dove curls herself into a ball on the large chair while the president crosses his legs in a relaxed manner. 

“So you plan to die a martyr?” he asks. 

Dove daps more tears as they fall, “She was only a little girl”, you explain.

“Hmm” President Snow agrees, “You see Miss Eastgate, you did a very brave thing, no doubt. But a stupid thing all the same. You see, it was important to me that Mary-Blu was this years tribute, and I don’t like when plans change”. 

Dove looks up to his striking blue eyes, now with fury at his concession. 

“It weren’t chance her name was picked, was it?”, she asks. 

A sly smile plays at his lips, and he brings his head to rest on his hand. “And how would it look if she got picked again? Even if a few years pass, what are the odds her name gets picked twice?”. 

“She’s a child” Dove's voice was stronger than she felt, “What fight have you got with Mary-blu?”. 

“It's complicated”, he said bored. His chin remained propped up by his hand, “She’s the daughter of a cousin of my enemy. And I would have liked to have reminded them that I have not forgotten”.

“I think they know”, her voice is horse again, and she can no longer take his stare so she turns her body back to the empty fireplace.

“I don’t mind then” she states bravely, “Am I being punished for taking her place or for my outburst on stage?”. 

“Punished?” Coriolanus questions, “Who said you’re to be punished?” 

She turns back to him, now hopeful, “is that not why I am here? To be tortured or have my tongue cut?”

The president laughs, whole heartedly, throwing his head back and filing the tense room with his enjoyment. 

“Over my white carpet, you think?”, he laughs. 

Dove hated feeling like a fool, she was clearly expecting to be taken elsewhere for the torturing side. 

“The fire isn’t on. I wasn’t expecting to be here long” she defends. 

“Would you like me to light it?” Coriolanus asks with a grin. 

“I would like to go”, she honestly answers. 

“Tell me about yourself”, Coiolanus ignores her request, 

“I think you know”, she bites. 

Coriolanus uncrosses his legs, his amusement is now overtaken by his hard scowl. The dim lighting in the room cast across his face, displaying his displeasure of being talk to like that. 

“Humor me”, He requests, “You’ve robbed me of my tribute, I should at least know who replaces her”. 

Dove decides to play along. He was the president. The most powerful man in the world. She was nothing. A plaything soon to be dead. 

“I am a school teacher. Was”, she corrects with a hard tone, “I taught Mary-Blue. She’s a good kid. They are all good kids. I keep the books for the seams bakery to help make ends meet”.

“Kept” Coriolanus corrects. 

Tears swell once more, “Yes, kept”, she agrees, using his handkerchief to dap away more tears. 

“And your parents?”Coriolanus pushes, although he already knew. 

“Dead. My mother died giving birth to me, and my father died when I was 15 from fever”. 

“You’ve been alone ever since?”, he quizzes. 

“Yes. The children take up a large part of my life. Took” she corrects herself. 

Coriolanus grins, turning his eyesight from her to the unlit fireplace. 

“You intrigue me, Miss Eastgate” he admits, “From all accounts, you seem to be a good person”, the President stands, putting his hands in his pockets, still not casting his sight to her, “Lets see how long that goodness lasts in the arena”. 

Dove sniffles in response, despite its use she does not use the handkerchief to dap her running nose. Snow rampages through his pocket looking for something before turning to her, and holding out his hand for his handkerchief. She returns it to him in haste, but he doesn’t leave as expected. 

Instead, he grabs her chin and raises it up to him, wiping the tears on her cheeks away. 

She wanted to yank herself away but as President of Panem, he could do as he liked. 

“People are terrible creatures, Miss Eastgate. Something you are about to learn. You be worse, or they’ll tear you to shreds in there”.  

He returns his handkerchief to his pocket and leaves the room without further word. 

She always expected the President to be odd. Out of touch, and egotistical. She wasn’t wrong. But there was something further off putting about him that left Dove feeling cold from his presence. 

She was grateful when a Peacekeeper came to collect her moments later. If she never saw President Snow again, it would be a blessing. 

Blake is asleep when she reaches the apartment. The mentor is not, and he blasts Dove all about her visit with the president. He had also thought she wasn't going to return unscathed. 

Dove only mentions President Snow had met with her briefly to discuss why she volunteered. She never mentions his vendetta against Mary-Blu. She was smart enough to know he told her that in confidence. 

Dove couldn’t sleep that night. The odd encounter replayed through her mind until she was forced to get up. 

She tries to be quiet as she pads around the apartment, trying to tire herself enough to fall asleep. 

Blake also must have been having trouble, as he popped his head out of his room only ten minutes after Dove began to pace. 

“Hey Blake”, Dove greeted with a soft smile. 

“Stop doing that”, Blake demanded, “Stop trying to make me like you”. 

Dove scoffs, rolling her eyes at the man who approached her. 

“I’ll try my best”, Dove retorts. 

“I heard you with Red. Did you really meet President Snow?” he asked. 

“Yes”, Dove confirmed. 

“I always wondered what he was like”, Blake confessed, “He seems so calculated on television”. 

“He’s odd” Dove describes, “Nothing but an egotistical maniac. I am glad I never have to see him again”. 

“Of course he is”, Blake takes a seat on the nearby stool, facing her. “I am glad he didn’t hurt you”.

Dove crosses her arms across her chest, feeling vulnerable. “Me too. I thought for sure I was going to be tortured for messing with the Capitol way”. 

“Do you regret it?” Blake questions, “taking her palace?”

“No”, Dove answers honestly, “But I am not thrilled all the same”. 

Blakes face turned from curious to dread within a second, making Dove wonder what crossed his mind. She is grateful when he talks his thoughts. 

“You taught my brother, you know?”, he says, “He used to love you. When he had to get a job in the mines, he cried for weeks. Dumb as rocks, you couldn’t teach him anything, but you are the only kindness those kids knew”. 

Her heart fluttered at his words. If it was said in any other way, in any other context she would have cherished his words, but now she was left thinking of all the kids she left behind. 

“How am I supposed to compete against that?” he angrily asked, ‘’you’ll be remembered as the sweet school  teacher who gave her life up in the games, and i’ll be a vague memory of some faceless minor”. 

Dove reaches out in comfort, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“You’ll be missed”, she promises him, “You may think you’re only a faceless minor, but you’re more important than you realise. Too important to die in these games. It’s not fair we have to do this. I’d love to see President Snow in there, rather than you. I’d give anything for it”. 

Blake stands up, brushing her hand off. 

“Yeah” Blake agrees in a tight voice. He is turning his body back to his bedroom as he throws back his last word; “Whatever”.

The next day starts with a lush breakfast and then filled with Red trying to find angles for the upcoming interviews. 

It’s important, he lectures, to get people to like you instantly. You need to be a sure winner or as interesting as possible. Anything else left you starving in the area. 

He didn’t talk much about his own games. Dove was under the impression he wanted to forget. 

They practiced answers and responses breaking for lunch and then returning for much of the same. 

Late afternoon they were taken from the apartment for dress fittings. 

Dove stood in the gym once more, only parted by thin white sheets as the stylists measured and pushed colorful fabric up to her face. She thinks it was the same team but the following day happened in such a blur. 

Masel was three tenets down and Dove managed to get two or three friendly waves in.

Her team seemed nice, asking her to do things in the kidnest of tones. 

Still she was thankful when dinner time rolled around and they were taken back to their apartments. 

Dinner was already set on the table. Blake took a seat immediately but Dove needed to wash the swaps of makeup on her face. 

She called to her team letting them know of her intentions as she retreated to her bedroom. When she opened the door, a startled yelp which had Blake shooting over, escaped her lips. 

Her floor was covered in white roses held in large, heavy, stone vases. Only a path to the bed and bathroom separated the white. 

Dove couldn’t even begin to count them as they reached the thousands. 

The furniture was removed to make space for the large pots. Only white roses at knee length remained. Her bed was encased by them, it would be the only thing she would smell as she slept. 

“What the hell is this?” Blake questioned. 

He passed the door where Dove stood and picked up a rose. 

“Should we throw them out?”, he asked. 

“If President Snow put them there, we should leave them”, Red spoke, appearing behind Dove. 

“Why would he do this?” Blake asked Dove’s question. 

“I dont know”, Red addressed, “But he is know for having a fondness of white roses”

“What an odd man”, Dove states, looking at her covered room.

Red reaches out and pinches the skin of her arm, “Careful”, he warns, “Come on let's eat”. 

Dinner lifted the spirits that the roses dampened. They remained seated at the table talking long after the plates had been taken away. No one mentioned Snow, or the games. Just a friendly dinner between friends. 

It was startling when the phone rang in a far off room. 

“I’ll find it”, Red offered, leaving the tributes at the table. 

“Deaths calling” Blake joked. 

“He can leave a message”, Dove quipped. 

“These chocolate deserts will kill me before the games”, Blake picks up his discarded spoon and takes another scoop from his forgotten desert. 

“Dove”, her name echoes through the hallway. She shares a look with Blake before going to find the room Red called out from. 

She stands in front of the door waiting for her.

“It’s for you”, he says nothing more as he passes her back to the hallway. 

He seemed upset and she wondered who was on the other side of the phone that wanted her that could upset him. 

She goes to find out, picking up the gold and cream phone and placing it to her ear. 

“Hello?” she answered the phone. 

“Miss Eastgate, did you receive my flowers?”, his voice was instantly recognisable and it shot fear down her spine. 

“President Snow”, she addresses, “Yes, thank you. 

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior last night”.

“Theres nothing to apologize for, sir. It was an honor to meet you”.

“Good answer”, he drawls, “But are you sure I am nothing more than egotistical maniac? An odd man? Would you just love to see me fighting for my life in the arena?”. 

Dove goes silent over the line. She was sure to have the most painful death of any tribute ever. How could she protect Macey if she was the main target?

“President Snow- I” Dove stumbles for an excuse

“It’s quite alright, miss Eastgate. I have been called far worse”.

“Still I shouldn’t have” she was hesitant to repeat it, “it was a mistake”.

“I’d like you to say something nice about me now it’s just the two of us”. 

“You’re the president”, was the first thing that came to Doves mind. 

“Thats a statement not a compliment”, Snow demands. 

“You rose to power at a young age, you must be smart”. 

Snow huffs over the phone, showcasing his displeasure and Dove scrambles for something else. There was nothing she liked about the man who will kill her and innocent children. 

“You are smart” she re-phrases so it sounds like less of a question, “a strong leader that has led us into prosperity”, she remembered reading that in a newspaper, “and-”

“Can you honestly think of nothing?” Snow interjects. 

“President snow, I-”

“I think I have heard enough of you talking”, he bites. Dove is thankful for the excuse to stop talking.

He doesnt hang up like he should. Only awkward silence endures. 

“It shouldn’t matter”, he admits, “You’re nothing”.

Dove still hangs on the promise that he doesnt want her to talk so she remains quiet. Letting him retreat back into whatever he was thinking. 

“I am tired”, he says after another awkward silence, and hangs up the phone. 

Dove gently places the receiver down. She looks around the room. How could he have known? There wasn’t a camera in sight. What else had he seen and heard?

A sense of violation burns inside her. An urge to get rid of the flowers that covered her room grew, but it wasn’t up to her. If president Snow placed them there, that’s where they would stay. 

They were being watched. She had to tell Blake. She wondered how far the eyes and hears reached. 

Was he watching when she slept? Ate? Dressed and showered? 

Sick ran through her thinking of Macey. She would have to tell her too. But in a delicate way that wouldn’t scare her. 

Did Red know? Was he trying to warn her before?

Dove eyes the top corner of the room. Nothing but the edging of the roof could be seen but she had a sixth sense Snow was watching her as she stared.

She was pulled from bed early the next morning and told to dress in her training uniform. It was a black sports suit with 12 in white large letters on her back. 

They gave her soft black sneakers and she was told to have a quick breakfast before they had to leave. She could eat nothing, while Blake ate his full share of eggs and bacon. 

They were escorted down the apartment to a large van and taken to a large gym with training equipment. 

A row of treadmills, a space for weights, large metal bars used for pull ups. Peacekeepers are in every corner and a large plastic screen separates the tributes from the people in the bleachers. All with clipboards and something unusual about them. 

Dove knew they were testing how strong and healthy  the tributes were. The older ones would have no trouble scoring high, but she questioned why they had brought the younger ones to participate. They were children. Were they expecting them to do a chin up?

The men and women tributes are split up and Dove catches sight of the little girl from 3 who comes bouncing up to her, wrapping herself around Dove’s leg. 

Dove places a hand on the child's head, looking around at the area. All the tribute wore the same thing, the only thing separating them was their district number across their backs.

A Peacekeeper barks at them to begin, and one by one the line of women and girls move. 

First up was a balancing act. A long and thin beam stretched out without the protection of mats underneath. If you fell off you were sure to hurt yourself. 

Dove worried about the little girl attached to her leg. She was only small. If she fell she could crack her head open. Maybe because of her size, she was only brought here to watch. 

Only one tribute falls with a loud yell. A 16 year old girl from district 10, who tried to move too quickly. 

It was Dove’s turn next and she implored the little girl to let go. 

“You have to let go, honey” Dove requested. The little girl shook her head no and buried her face deeper into her outer thigh. 

“But I want a go!” Dove said enthusiastically, pretending it was all a game.

“I am going to go really fast and beat everyone else”, she faked playfulness even though her heart was in her throat from the height. “Can you cheer for me? It’s really high and I need you to encourage me”. 

The little girl pokes her head up, now thinking this display was a game.

Dove’s leg is released and she is shoved harshly by a Peacekeeper to the start. 

She hears clapping as she climbs the steps up. Don’t look down, she reminds herself. 

“Go Miss Dove!” the girl cheered. 

“Whoo!” Dove yells back excitingly. She keeps her eyes straight and breath in her chest as she shuffles along the high beam. Her knocking knees did not aid her in her effort not to fall. 

It was high, too high. Did they want broken bones before the games? Was it a way to impair the older tributes for a fair game?

“Almost there, Miss Dove,” the girl yelled. 

Her arms flared out balanced her more but her feet wobbled the further she got. 

She felt herself tilting as she neared the end, and rushed to safety of the podium on the other side. She throws herself forward, just getting the edge of the block before her fall to the ground. 

“Whoo! You did it!” Macy cheered, clapping 

“I did it!” Dove shouts back over her panic, “It’s a little high for you, darling. How about we move on to the next one?”. 

She raises to her feet, eager to take the little girl to the next activity. 

But a Peacekeeper holds the little girl from escaping and urges her to begin. 

‘Wait!” Dove yelled. She could hear the scribbling of the pencils as she rushes back to the start. 

They could mean to make her walk it. Dove is blocked from the stairs by Peacekeeper so she yells from under the beam, 

“It’s too high for a child. Score her 0 and let us move on”, Dove begged. 

“All tributes are to be assessed equally” the Peacekeeper shouted back. 

Macey is shoved forward and she buckles to the ground, Holding on to the beam with her little hands. 

“Why shouldn’t she!” another tribute call out from the back of the line, “we have to!”

Dove ignores her, focusing on the little girl. 

“Go!” the Peacekeeper kicks the childs butt, and her wails fill the space. 

“It’s okay baby”, Dove shouts, “Just crawl. You don’t have to stand. Look I am right here to catch you if you fall”. 

With another harsh shout from the Peacekeeper macey begins to crawl along the beam slowly. 

“Whoo!” Dove cheers, “What a big, strong, girl you are!”.

Her clapping is met with dismay as the height appears to grow underneath Macey. 

“I am right here” Dove promises, “I’ll catch you”.

She follows the small girls pace with open arms, ready to make good on her promise. 

“You’re doing it Macey!” She calls up, “Don’t stop! You’re in the lead!”

The little girls crying stopped and her crawling became faster at the thought of winning the game. 

Dove jumps as the girl makes it to safety, her excitement pours through, screaming and clapping as the girl drags herself to the podium. The other tributes cheer, making Macey stand up and flash a smile. She had won the game. 

A peacekeeper tells them to keep it moving and Dove collects her small friend from the end. 

She leads the girl by her small hand, giving it a comforting pat. 

“Good girl” Dove praises. 

She was too old to buy into it completely. But the little girl faked belief. 

The next activity was weights. At least this time the playing field evened. 

They were told to do various exercises with the weights to showcase their strength. Dove did poorly on all of them. Her strength was nothing to be feared by other tributes. 

They were sweaty and hot by the time they were finished. A short break followed. 

Doves raced to the water station with her shadow following her. She passes the first cup from the cooler back to her friend before taking one for herself. 

The little girl downs it and Dove gets her another one. She smiles at the little girl, leaning back against the wall to catch her breath. 

A feeling she is being watched erks her. She could shake it while she trained. She of course was being watch then, but as she rested she still feel the presence of peering eyes. 

She follows the feeling up to the height of the bleaches to catch the eye of President Snow. A shock shoots through her. How long had he been there for? Why would the president concern himself with the tributes scoring?

He doesn’t look away even though Dove had caught him. Its her who backs down first. She takes the little girls shoulder and moves on to the next activity before their break was over. 

His eyes don’t shift from her, she can feel it. But she ignores it all the same.

The monkey bars are less high but the weights have left her muscles feeling shaky. 

Macys arms dont reach to the next ring so she gets a 0 and is allowed to move on. 

Dove goes next. Her arm muscle strains from the pressure. She manages to swing across three but loses her grip on the fourth and crashes to the ground. 

She lands on her ankle. The cry of pain crosses over the sound of the training tributes. All stop to look at the hurt tribute. 

President Snow rises from his chair but makes no further movement. It was Blake who came running from his own course to help Dove from the floor. He throws her arm over his shoulder and hoists her up from the ground. He helps her shuffle out of the way so other tributes could continue. 

A murmur crosses the normally silent observers as President Snow makes his way down the bleachers and out the door. 

A whistle blows, calling for lunch. 

Dove thanks her fellow tribute as he helps her to the lunch table. 

It was a relief to go back to the apartment. Doves whole body ached. Her ankle swelled to the point she struggled to take her training suit off. 

It was thankfully just twisted, but was sure to lower her score and following donations in the arena. 

The hot bath struck the tenderness of her ankle, but she forced it under in an attempt to sooth the bruised muscles. 

She rests her head back against the marble tub, trying her best to keep her thoughts from spirling. 

“Dove” her mentor calls, knocking on the door, it causes her to jump from the suddenness “Dove, the Peacekeepers are here to collect you”.

The news racks a sob through her body. Snow was calling on her again. Her spirit and her body was weak, now he plans to torment her more. A comfortable bed was all she longed for, and now it slipped far from her fingers. 

Red knocked again, repeating his sentence. 

Dove splashes the warm water on her face before rising herself on her good foot. 

She lets him know she is coming. There was no need to send Peacekeepers in to fasten her. 

Besides her training uniform, all she had was her pajamas. Unsure she could get her training  uniform over her sore ankle, she puts on her pajamas. 

She is met with two fully dressed Peacekeepers and the shocked face of Red when she opened the door. 

“You can’t wear that” Red spoke. 

“I cant put my training uniform over my ankle” She explained. 

“Come with me” Red offered, taking her arm but the mentor is stopped by the two Peacekeepers. 

“President Snow is waiting”, one of them spoke, “He doesnt like waiting”

“And he really wont like it when a tribute is taking to his presence in her pajamas will he?” Red shot back.

“We’ll be two seconds”, Red demanded pushing past the Peacekeepers with Dove in tow, 

He takes her back to his own room where he shuffles through his many suitcases. 

He throws a black singlet, a black leather jacket with charms over it, and dark purple pants with pockets running down the legs, on the bed. 

“You can borrow those”, he comments as he walks past her. 

She takes his arm to stop him, “Thank you”, she breathes.

Red knocks her chin gently in encouragement, “I remember meeting him when I won the games. How scared I was. I am sorry you struck a chord with him”. 

“I’ll be dead soon anyway” she scoffs. Snow could do whatever he liked, she only had 2 weeks left to live.

“Get dressed. We shouldn’t push his patience”. 

Her comment was not found amusing to Red, who’s tone turned hard, and he left without eye contact. 

Dove was put back in the van. It was cold and dark in the back. It was a full moon but with no windows, no light. Despite how tired she was, she could not rest. 

There were no chains upon her. She wondered if it was because President Snow forbade it, or if it was just because she posed no threat. 

Who fears a school teacher. She was going to be one of the first to die. 

When they finally opened the back of the van, the light from the sky and presidential mansion hurt her eyes. 

She felt blinded stepping down. If it wasn’t for the Peacekeeper’s grip on her arm, she never would have found her way down. 

With her sore ankle the walk up the long steps and into the room she was originally brought to was slow. No one hurried her so she took caution with the weight she distributed to it. 

This time the fire was lit in the room. Lamps were turned on to help illuminate but not brighten the room. 

The Peacekeeper left her there without instructions, and she went straight to her chair. The warm fire positioned in front of it, welcomed her. 

A new foot rest had been placed in front of it. The metal was gold, and she couldn't even begin to guess what the colourful fabric on top was made out of. 

It was soft though, and just what her ankle needed. 

The warm fire lulled her into a sleepy state. Her eyes began to become heavy. She rested her head against the chair, almost falling asleep before the door is pushed open. 

She takes her foot off the rest, and sits up straighter, less he think she was relaxing in his presence. 

“Dove”, President Snow says. She is shocked at the familiarity. It was better when he called her Miss Eastgate. 

He was carrying an ice pack. She knew what it was despite it being different then the districts. Blue and rectangle without a single drop of condensation. It would stay cold for hours without leaving a wet trail. 

“How’s your ankle?” he asks. 

Her heart froze when he knelt down on the floor, and took her ankle into his hand, gently raising it onto the rest and placing the ice pack over it. 

He looks up at her expecting an answer. 

“Fine, sir. Thank you”, she answers. 

His spare hand went to the side of her ankle pressing it against the ice pack. 

“I don’t need the ice, really”, although the coolness was comforting, having the president knelt down by her feet felt uneasy. 

He leaves the ice pack resting against her foot but does rise from the ground to this chair. 

“That girl lowered your score today. If you can’t show the capitol you have a chance of winning they wont sponsor you”

“I’ll be dead within the first day. A sponsor wont change that”. 

His eyes flick to hers, carrying a quiet rage. 

“Do you want to die?”, he asks. 

“No” she honestly admits, “But I won’t kill, and I would give my life for any child in that arena”. 

“You’re foolish, Dove”, he turns from her to the fire and straightens out his suit pants, “You’ll kill Dove. You’ll abandon those children, and your morals”. 

“With the terror of being prey, see how quickly we become predator”, he mutters to himself. 

“President Snow, I would like to go back. I am quite tired” Dove begs.

“Too bad”, the response was cold and uncaring. He switches although turning his head to look at her and speaking in a soft voice, 

“Just sit a few more minutes with me. Put your head back”, he requests. 

You turn back to the fire but do not relax in his presence. 

He makes no further conversation. Both of you sit memorized by the fire. 

10 minutes pass of this stalemate. You think soon it must come to an end, 

 Suddenly, President Snow leaves the room without a word. Dove watches as he storms out of the door. 

She sighs a breath of relief watching him go, and expects a Peacekeeper soon to come to collect her. 

No one did, however. She grew frustrated, hobbling over to the door herself. It was of course locked. With her effort wasted she climbs back into her seat, resting her feet up on the cushion, and her head against the chair.

With the fire for warmth, it was comfortable enough to go to sleep. 

She suspected only a few moments before a Peacekeeper would wake her up and take her back to the apartment. 

But the night turned and the fire lost its warmth. 

Dove awakes from the cold. The fire was only small now and soon to die out. 

She sees the outstretched legs of President Snow next to her. His shiny expensive shoes, and perfectly tailored suit pants. 

He was resting his head in his hands, staring at the dying fire. 

“President snow?” Dove addresses. 

He remains looking ahead, giving no sign he heard her. 

Why didn’t he wake her up? Why would he take a seat and waste his time next to her?

 “I think I should go back now”, she continued, making a move to get up. 

“Yes, I think you should”, he replies, still gazing ahead. 

He pulls a small clicker out of his pocket, and a knock at the door is heard less than 30 seconds later. 

A Peacekeeper enters the room without a word and stands by the door. 

Snow continues to act indifferent, watching the dwindling fire, as Dove limps over to the door. 

“Dove?”, she hears him call. The Peacekeeper jested to turn back so she did. 

He sat still in the same position. 

“I’ll call for you tomorrow night. Have Red put you in something decent to wear”.

You freeze, you didn’t want to be continually called by Snow. 

The Peacekeeper moves you on and Snow remains seated, looking at the fire. 

Part 2