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Chapter Text

1. Coriolanus Has Concepts of a Plan

early September

“Coriolanus, there is only so much I can excuse for an old family friend.”

“She cannot see me here, Pluribus.”

Coriolanus finally stepped out of the shadows. Pluribus Bell was leaning against his shop’s counter, with a tired look on his face.

“Look, boy, when you came here last month, asking for a job, I was excited to have someone to keep me company. But we cannot do this if you hide every time someone comes in.”

Pluribus didn’t understand. He didn’t understand how shameful it was for Coriolanus to even be here. For a Snow to be here!

After he almost got Sejanus killed five years ago, and Lucy ran away, he went to District 2 to do the officer training. He hoped Dr. Gaul would miraculously show up and support him, given how amazed she had been with all his ideas for the Games, but it never happened. Maybe even she thought he was deranged for sending that bird. It was only thanks to Mr. Plinth that Sejanus was saved. After that the boy came home, and Coriolanus hadn’t seen him since. It was probably for the best. He attempted to say sorry when he left, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. After all, nothing happened, so what should he be sorry for? For allegedly sending a bird? Of course, Lucy thought that was enough to leave him stranded in a forest. But he still had the officer school. Until he didn’t. Coriolanus had to realise he no longer had the means to study and have at least lunch, like back at the Academy. He quit a year ago, and after ,,wallowing in self-pity” something ,,a real Snow would never do”, as Grandma’am had put it, he sucked it up and asked Pluribus if he could help him out. But it was hard, with the risk of people he knew seeing him. Or even people who knew people who knew him. One wrong move and he would be a social pariah, and social pariahs do not become presidents of Panem. At this point, he would have needed a miracle, calculated planning was not enough.

“Coriolanus, please,” Pluribus continued his sermon. “You are a Snow, you’re strong, you’re capable. You can overcome… difficulties.” Coriolanus did not miss his tone-change when he said ‘difficulties’, as if he didn’t believe this was a problem. Pluribus had brought up Tigris working for Fabricia Whatnot, but that was different; his cousin was an apprentice. At least on paper. And that was the important detail. What other people saw, not the reality. But Coriolanus being here? He couldn’t possibly explain it. Just as he was about to list his points again to Pluribus, the door to the shop opened. Fortunately, it was an unknown man, looking for wires. Pluribus took a step behind, and let Coriolanus handle it. He did, with the utmost dignity, showing the man that he was, somehow, despite all, the better. The man most likely didn’t notice any of this though. After he left, Pluribus patted Coriolanus on the back.

“See, it wasn’t so hard.”

“I dread the day a servant of one of my old classmates comes in for their shady business. I will be ruined.”

“Did your family ever tell you you have a flair for the dramatic?”

“Arachne Crane called me a bitch once.”

“I’d just say you are a young man who feels very heavily.”

“I don’t feel heavily.”

“Oh, but you do. But since it’s usually anger, you think it’s that great masculinity of your father.”

“Do not insult my father.”

“I would never. You misunderstand me.” Pluribus retreated to the back of the shop. Coriolanus sighed. If a miracle was to come, it should soon. He was getting impatient. He had to get back into the Capitol’s good graces. He felt like he was stuck in a limbo, or sitting in a carousel going round and round, unable to get off, not achieving anything. There was no chance to rise up from here, no goal to chase. He needed to be in a wholly different position for that. He could have done more to convince Dr. Gaul that he was worth patronizing. Maybe he should write a letter to her, with his ideas for the Games. He had some. The last four were each less disastrous than the previous, they even introduced a Victory Tour. But there was still a lot to be done. The tributes could still hide in the arena, no one knowing whether they’re dead or alive, many tributes still died before the games even began, and those who didn’t, usually didn’t start murdering each other for hours, sometimes even days. A lot to be sorted out, and he could do it, were he in the right position, the one he deserved. He crossed the street every time he saw an old classmate approaching, lest they ask about what he’s doing. They unfortunately knew he wasn’t attending the university, because they actually were or had. He could lie and say he was working with Dr. Gaul, but he had enemies who would go and fact-check that.

He was stuck. Miserably stuck.

His miseries, at least for the day, ended. Coriolanus was quite relieved when he left the shop, not having seen anyone of importance. And he remembered there was some leftover stew in the fridge from an event that Fabricia had dragged Tigris to, so he could even go to bed on a full stomach, a rarity these days.

Two years ago they moved into a small flat, it even had two bedrooms. Tigris insisted Coriolanus had his own; she would share with Grandma’am. Coriolanus thanked her, but he knew it was just because she believed he snored. He did not, but she believed that.

He was minutes away from finally reaching home, when he had to stop in his tracks. Mere metres away was Sejanus Plinth, talking with an unknown individual. Coriolanus quickly turned into the nearest alleyway, hoping the pair would go the other way. But no, of course not. They continued walking and stopped just next to his hiding spot. He couldn’t believe it, Coriolanus Snow hiding from Sejanus Plinth! But he did not need this reunion, not today, so he waited it out.

The other person seemed to be a friend of Sejanus, because they were laughing and discussing personal matters. Coriolanus felt strangely jealous of this unknown girl; Sejanus’ whole thing for years had been that he had no friends, just Coriolanus tolerating him.

As the friend described in detail a disastrous family dinner she had last week (crazy aunts, controversial gay cousins and whatnot), Coriolanus had time to take a good look at his old classmate. Sejanus had somehow grown even taller and more broad shouldered in the last years, but he still wore his curly hair the same way, without styling, just letting it fall in front of his big, soulful eyes. Coriolanus noticed with a twist in his stomach that there was a scar on the back of Sejanus’ neck, one he seemingly tried to hide by growing his hair out a bit. When Coriolanus said “Sejanus was saved by his father’s money”, he meant that it happened in the last possible moment. Sejanus had been called a traitor, beaten up and bloodied, dragged to the gallows, crying out “Coryo!” in the most heartbroken tone Coriolanus had ever heard, he had the noose placed around his neck, the Peacekeeper’s hand was on the lever, when another came running, yelling to stop, there have been changes, to let go one of the traitors, for there had been a mishap. Coriolanus watched as they led a very confused Sejanus away, trying to catch his gaze, but the other boy purposefully looked away from him. 

And now they were standing just metres away, unbeknownst to Sejanus.

“My condolences, really. Sounds like an insane dinner.”

“I told Julius that he better not have a surprise wedding the next time we meet, Aunt Cordelia’s heart couldn’t take it. He said that we will see. Do you want to be my plus one to his wedding, though? I need one, and the music is supposed to be good.”

“Ah, don’t mention weddings to me,” Sejanus said in an annoyed tone. Coriolanus really would have liked them to continue discussing Cousin Julius elsewhere, so he could go on with his day.

“Your father is still on about that?”

“He’s relentless. My mother barely hung my diploma on the wall, when he started scheming. Wants to marry me into a respectable family. A dynasty, preferably.”

The friend blew raspberries. “Good luck finding a princess. I think they killed them all in the rebellion.”

“I wouldn’t even want a prince. I just want to be left alone.”

A car pulled up on the street, and an Avox opened its door. The friend said her goodbyes, then got in and left. Sejanus turned around and walked away to the nearest trolley-stop. Of course he would use public transport, even if he had all the money in the world! Once a District, always a District, Coriolanus mused. Still, it was interesting to see Sejanus again. It filled Coriolanus with some pride that he is on bad terms with his father, even after all these years. And now he would carefully read the engagements section in Grandma’am’s newspapers, looking for the Plinth name.

Coriolanus had plans to get married once, maybe even to have a family, but that was all out the window now. He had but his name to him, and while it was a good, respectable name, he couldn’t find someone who would take him only for that and provide him with money as well. That would have been part of that miracle he longed for, but he had stopped believing in miracles either when his mother died, or when Persephone’s family cannibalised the Cranes's maid, or during that summer five years ago.

The stew must have not agreed with his stomach because he woke up in the middle of the night from a very strange dream. In it, he was attending the wedding of Sejanus and Lucy Gray. He did not want to be reminded of those eventful two months of his life starring those two. 

He went to the bathroom and sprinkled some cold water on his face to chase away the scenes from his dream. His subconscious must have built Sejanus’ apparent marriage troubles into the unsuccessfully repressed memories of the 10th Hunger Games and what followed.

Soon he went back to sleep, ready for another day at Pluribus’, hoping to not see a familiar face.

*

“It is entirely horrible, my dear, simply awful!” A windbag of a woman had been keeping him occupied for ten minutes now. She came in to buy plaid, but somehow she got to talking about her garden, her extended family, and now a friend of the son of her cousin’s neighbor. Coriolanus wanted to strangle the woman. And she went on:

“...and she had no problem with it! I said to her, I did, ‘Luciana, if I were you, I would not excuse that for any name!’ But she did, she did... and how many would! In today’s world! Oh, is that the time?” the woman asked, not looking at any clock, then hurriedly said goodbye and left.

Coriolanus sighed, trying to forget the tale of the young man who married a penniless girl with a good name. The man sounded really hopeless; it was pathetic, even.

The day went on much the same, annoying, worthless customer after another, stuck in the loop, never getting anywhere. It was almost time for him to leave, when Pluribus burst through the door. He left earlier for some mysterious business that he now seemed to have completed. He put a box on the counter.

“Brand-new medical instruments. Stethoscopes and whatnot. It will be a good day tomorrow.”

Coriolanus glanced at the supplies. Sejanus wanted to be a medic, he recalled for some reason. Then he thought about the conversation he overheard last night, then about the plaid-buying lady’s acquaintance and his desperate marriage, and something connected in his mind.

A way to get out of this limbo, to have the chance to rise up, to go somewhere, to be somebody, to live up to his father’s legacy.

All he needed for that was Strabo Plinth’s fortune.

And luckily for Coriolanus, Strabo Plinth’s son was looking for a name to marry.

And what more could he offer than the best name in all the Capitol?

Really, he was doing Sejanus a favour.

Chapter Text

2. Coriolanus Displays Another Trait of a Serial Killer

Coriolanus had connections. Connections he couldn’t utilize in a while; if he could, he would not be working for Pluribus Bell, he would be president already. But for what he needed now, he could use them. First he scoured Grandma’am’s old gossip papers she had refused to throw away, hoping to see a mention of the Plinths, but there was only one article, about Strabo Plinth purchasing yet another factory. That was useless, in the way that it only informed Coriolanus that the Plinths have become even richer, but that was nothing new.

Then he started staying home when Grandma’am’s old lady friends would come over, so they could comment on how tall he’s gotten (he has been this height since he was sixteen), and talk about the good old days, eventually talking about Coriolanus’ ex-classmates’ families. From a lady named Cosconia Coriolanus learnt that after he returned from being a Peacekeeper, Sejanus went to university and got a medical degree, but he doesn’t practice. Mr. Plinth doesn’t let him, Coriolanus guessed. And he was right, if Mr. Plinth wanted to fit into the Capitol, he couldn’t have his son working, like some commoner. (Again, Tigris’ situation was different; she was an apprentice.)

After no more useful information could be extracted from the ladies, Coriolanus had to swallow the bitter pill and reach out to his old classmates, on completely innocent notions, of course. Fortunately, a great opportunity arose. The five year class reunion was happening in just a few weeks. Sejanus wouldn’t attend, of course, but that will make it even easier for Coriolanus to gather gossip, then filter out the truth.

The reunion was glamorous and elegant and it must have cost a lot of money for the Prices; Persephone took it upon herself to organise it. She rented a ballroom, probably because hers was simply too big for thirty people. The curtains were laid with golden lace, gleaming chandeliers hung from above, and on each side of the room were tables groaning from the food upon them. Fruits, cheese, grilled meats, salads, and towers of dessert. Coriolanus’ stomach growled when he saw it; his breakfast was half an apple. But he couldn’t lunge at the feast, it would be undignified and below him. And he had a mission first.

It seemed like once he figured out a plan, the stars aligned for him, because not even after thirty minutes of mingling, Clemensia decided to share with him her opinions of those who did not bother to attend.

“... and Sejanus, of course. But what can you expect from a District? He’s probably busy with his noble cause.”

“Which one?” Coriolanus laughed. Sejanus always had a noble cause, even before he decided his life goal was to end the Games. In fourth grade he was determined to stop Felix’s tyranny over the swingset in the schoolyard, but to no avail; in eighth grade he decided to save everyone who was being bullied, not realising he made himself an even bigger target than he already had been; in tenth grade he found out about the Snows’ financial situation, and for months, before Coriolanus could believably make up a lie about it being better, Sejanus got his mother to make enough sandwiches for an army every single day, and forced it upon the other boy. Coriolanus never forgave him for it, he didn’t want to be in Sejanus Plinth’s debt, he didn’t want him to save him — after he got Sejanus out of the arena he considered the debt paid and settled. And of course, in their last year at the Academy, Sejanus decided he wants to stop the Hunger Games and save everyone, or die trying. And he almost did, multiple times. But what could his big idea be now?

“He has a charity,” Clemensia explained. “Something to do with orphans, I think.”

Coriolanus snorted. “Of course it’s orphans.”

“Festus saw him last week at the theatre. He doesn’t even try to fit in anymore.”

“I wouldn’t have expected anything else from him.” Coriolanus swirled his drink. For some reason he felt weird talking like this about someone who wasn’t even here, and who, despite his circumstances and general disctrictness, was doing something objectively good; unfortunately helping orphans really was a noble cause. Cheesy and common, but it was a nice thing to do.

“Coryo!” It was Pup Harrington, insufferable as always. “You seem deep in discussion, who are we talking about?”

“Sejanus Plinth,” Clemensia answered.

“Oh, I heard he lunches at some common restaurant over on Floridius Street. But Coryo would know more, you were Peacekeepers together, no?” he turned to him now. The people in the Capitol didn't know what went down in District 12 that summer, they just knew the vague details, so naturally they were hungry for more.

“For a few weeks. I forgot he was even there.” Coriolanus was glad of the Plinth PR’s ever reaching arms, he would not have liked to explain Lucy Gray and the coveys, or the jabberjays, or the execution, or the hanging tree, or the lake, or the snake, or anything about those few weeks, really.

“I don’t know, I always assumed you were friends,” Pup pushed. 

“I tolerated him, that’s not the same.”

“Hm, no, you liked him,” Clemensia said in a voice that signalled she would not argue about this.

The rest of the evening was uneventful, in relation to Sejanus at least. Coriolanus found it rather pitiful that his life reached a point where he weighed a social gathering’s success based on how much he talked about Sejanus Plinth.

The next day Coriolanus went to Floridius Street to check out the bistro Pup was talking about. There was nothing remarkable about it, very fitting for Sejanus. Right across the street was an abandoned bookshop: the perfect vantage point. Coriolanus insisted to himself that this wasn’t stalking, he was just collecting information he needed to make both their lives better. And what Sejanus didn’t know about couldn’t matter to him.

Coriolanus had to make sure Sejanus was actually desperate enough to go along with his master plan. Because while Coriolanus knew he was charming and generally irresistible, he had to admit that Sejanus had some right to be angry with him, even if it was for no reason. He was District, he didn’t view the world so logically; for Sejanus almost dying equaled dying and his friend ,,betraying” him equaled a grudge. It was almost comical. 

Even so, Coriolanus had to be absolutely confident that Sejanus really needed to marry into a family with an ancient name, and that he would need to do it soon. Coriolanus wondered if Sejanus wouldn’t give in and marry someone his father chose, but that didn’t seem to be the case. 

He still spent precious minutes every day scouring Grandma’am’s papers’ engagement and marriage columns, confusing the old lady more and more. Fortunately for him, still no Plinth wedding in sight.

What he discovered in a magazine however, was talk about a gala that the Vickerses will hold in honor of their daughter’s 24th birthday. Coriolanus wondered why he wasn’t invited; he had always been friendly with Lysistrata, she helped him out during the 10th Hunger Games... But he had to get invited, because according to his sources Sejanus was going, and Coriolanus needed closer observation before making his move. Oh, how the tables have turned; back in their Academy years Sejanus used to follow him around, hoping to gain his friendship, now he was doing the same to gain his money. At least one goal was useful.

*

Perhaps miracles did exist after all, because not a week later he received an invitation. Someone dropped out and they needed to replace him, or else the men-women ratio would be off by one and that would mean having to rearrange the seating plans, and no one wanted to bother with that. So Lysistrata quickly came up with someone who was acceptable in the circles of the attendees.

As Coriolanus put on his best shirt and combed through his hair the fifth time, he had the awful realization that he would no doubt be unable to avoid his old classmates’ questions at this party, as he did at the reunion. He managed to do so for years, and now all of that’s over because of Sejanus? Why couldn’t he see Coriolanus wanted to help him? Why was he being so difficult? Even before knowing the plan? Coriolanus sometimes thought he was not worth the trouble, but it always came back to the fact that the money was worth ten times as much trouble as one single Sejanus Plinth could cause.

Chapter Text

3. The Ancient Roots Of Marriage: Money, Power, Glory

 late September

The Vickerses’ mansion was bigger than the old Snow penthouse and it was fully stacked with guests and food. Coriolanus had to sneak some plates out somehow; Tigris had put up with him while he was getting ready, asking for her opinion on his shirt, his hair, everything; she deserved compensation.

“Are you going on a date? I haven’t seen you comb your hair with this much fervour since... ever,” she had commented.

“Tigris, just because you wake up with a gorgeous crown of hair, it doesn’t mean everyone is as lucky,” he had answered. Tigris had laughed with a shake of her head and muttered about humility not being a good look on him.

Now Coriolanus was standing in the middle of a crowded ballroom. Upon entering he began scanning the room for familiar faces. He could see Plinius and Domitia, and Festus was on the guest-list as well, he could show up any second.

“Coriolanus!” a familiar voice called. “I thought it was your eyes staring into my soul! I didn’t catch you at the reunion.” It was Persephone cornering him, her blonde locks done up in an impressive hairdo, resembling a ship. It did not take away from the fact that she was a cannibal. Coriolanus needed to get to Sejanus.

“Persephone, hello.”

“Where have you been hiding? I haven’t seen you since... oh, I can’t even remember!”

“I was busy. If you excuse me, I have to find someone.” He left before Persephone could start asking about what exactly he had been busy with. 

Sejanus was on one of the many balconies, talking to the girl with the crazy aunt. Coriolanus couldn’t believe the kind of people that got an invite before him. Someone who willingly befriended Sejanus? Or maybe she was going after the money as well. If that was the case, and why wouldn’t it be?, Coriolanus had to act fast. He wanted to wait a few more weeks, but the situation was dire, his future depended on how tonight went. He shuddered at the thought. He was having déja vu. Five years ago he had been in the exact same situation: his life depended on Strabo Plinth’s money, and thus on whether he could be nice to Sejanus or not.

Coriolanus watched as Sejanus laughed at something his friend said, then he downed his drink and turned to fill up his glass again. As he stepped inside he froze in place. His large doe-eyes widened, his broad shoulders tensed. But this lasted only for a second. Sejanus cut through the crowd, making sure to elbow Coriolanus in the side while doing so. But Coriolanus did not deter, he had a plan, a purpose, and he would fulfill it. He followed Sejanus to the wine-selection, then to the corridors, then to a salon, then out to another balcony, far from the crowd. They could barely hear the music here. Suddenly it was very quiet.

“Coriolanus, what do you want from me?!” Sejanus spun around, his eyes gleaming with anger. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you spying on me from that bookshop. What do you want?”

“I was hoping to make some small-talk first, but that’s out the window now, I suppose.” 

“It is.” Sejanus crossed his arms. Coriolanus watched his biceps bulge under his jacket. He shook his head and looked him in the eye. Sejanus stared at him, waiting.

“We should get married.”

“Coriolanus, quite frankly, what the fuck?”

Coriolanus frowned. That wasn’t very Sejanus-like, to curse like that. “You used to be a nice boy,” he teased him.

“I am nice. To those who deserve it. Now spit it out, what’s your scheme?” Coriolanus did not like this new Sejanus, this was not his Sejanus, this was much harder to work with. The old Sejanus wouldn’t have seen through him so fast.

“I know your father wants you to marry someone with a three-hundred year old family name. And I have one of those. And you need that. And you have what I need. Money. It’s a business deal.”

“Why would I marry someone who tried to kill me?”

“But you’re not dead, are you?” And I didn’t try to kill you, I knew your father would bail you out. “Consider my offer, you’re not going to get a better one.”

“My father made a list of possible spouses, I have dozens of options.” Sejanus leaned against the balustrade.

“Yes, but would you want to spend the rest of your life in a miserable marriage you cannot escape, or do you want to sign a paper and then do whatever you want while I do whatever I want?” Sejanus could go and become a surgeon for all Coriolanus cared, he will not have the time to babysit him once he is on his way to become president of Panem.

“Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t be miserable either way.” Typical Sejanus, claiming to want to better the world, then pitying himself. So blameless he was choking on it. Like he almost choked on the gallows you put him on, a mean voice inside Coriolanus’ head said, that sounded suspiciously like his own.

“I know, you’ll only be happy when everyone’s happy and we’re all friends with each other,” he said finally. “But even you have to realise that is unreasonable to believe in.”

“For your kind, maybe.”

“Think about it, will you? If you make up your mind, you know where to find me during lunchtime.” With a small smile, Coriolanus turned around and headed back inside. He would grab some food, then go home. His job was finished, the rest depended on Sejanus.

“It’s really weird that you’re stalking me, Coriolanus!” Sejanus called after him. “It’s weird!”

*

Coriolanus had just finished a sandwich he had taken from Lysistrata’s party last night, sitting on an old chair in the empty shop, when a shadow appeared in front of him. A Sejanus Plinth shaped shadow, to be precise.

“I will join your scheme, on a few conditions.”

“I’m listening.” Coriolanus didn’t expect the other to make up his mind so quickly, he was prepared to persuade him some more. What's a little more groveling, if it lands him a rich husband?

“We will have to make it seem real.”

“Sejanus, this is the Capitol; everybody knows marriage is just business.”

“Despite what you believe,” Sejanus sat down next to him, “you are not the most desirable bachelor in town. There are quite a few problems that arise if I take you on.”

“I am taking you on, but continue.”

“My father doesn’t know you tried to kill me — no, shut up, I’m not arguing about this — but even so, seeing the obvious business aspect of it will not be enough for him. He has some big names on that list of his, any of them could replace you.” Coriolanus seriously doubted that.

“Then be stubborn about it. Think of me as one of your noble causes.”

“I will have to be very adamant about you. And that only works if you are capable of pretending to have emotions. At least until the wedding.”

“Sejanus, I offered that we sign a paper and go on our merry ways, not that we play boyfriends for your parents.” 

“It will not work if we do it your way. I know my father tries to make it look like he was born and raised here, but he is from District 2, and deep down he knows that marriage is more than a deal. And he knows me, and he knows my values. He wouldn’t believe me if I just showed up one day conveniently married,” Sejanus shook his head, the smell of his shampoo hitting Coriolanus in the face. It was the same one he was using five years ago. Not an ounce of originality in this man.

“So what if he doesn’t approve of your choice? Your friend’s Aunt Cordelia doesn’t like Cousin Julius’ choice either, but their mansion is still in one piece, I’ll assume?”

“Seriously, how much do you know about me?”

“I know you spend your time with suffering children,” Coriolanus shrugged.

“Orphans, Coriolanus, they are orphans. Terminally ill orphans.”

“How’s the weather on that moral high ground of yours?”

“Very nice, but you wouldn’t know.”

Coriolanus sighed and patted Sejanus on the knee. “You used to be so naïvely nice, can’t I have that back?” It was bad enough to have Sejanus back in his life (forever, if the plan works), but must it be this new version? What happened to the starry-eyed, optimistic loser he used to be? The one who blindly trusted Coriolanus, the one who let him save him from the arena, the one who gave up a life in the Capitol to be with him in District 12, of all places? He wanted that boy back, for simplicity’s sake.

“I lost my naïvety after the one person I thought I could trust betrayed me,” Sejanus said, his previous joking tone gone.

“As you said, let’s not argue about that. So, do we have a deal?” Coriolanus held out his hand.

Sejanus looked him in the eye and hesitantly shook it. “I don’t know why I’m doing this.”

“Because I’m your last option?” Coriolanus noticed a scar above Sejanus’ left eyebrow. He briefly recalled the scene — no, memory; one that he involuntarily thought about more often in the past weeks — of Sejanus being dragged to the tree all bruised up. The scar must be from a wound that didn’t heal right.

“I wouldn’t be so proud of being someone’s last option.”

“Since we’ve last met I had to let go of a lot of pride; I think I can take another blow.” Coriolanus was about to marry Sejanus Plinth, he couldn’t get lower than this.

Sejanus shook his head and sighed as if he was just realising what he had gotten himself into. He stood up, smoothed down his trousers, then looked expectantly at Coriolanus. He stood up as well. Sejanus was still taller.

“I assume I will have to make up the backstory?” Sejanus asked.

“You are the one who wants to make it seem real.”

“Fine. I’ll figure it out, call me in the evening.” Sejanus fished a pen out of his jacket pocket, then grabbed Coriolanus’ palm and scribbled a number on it. “Your hands are freezing,” he commented.

“My hands are a perfectly fine temperature,” Coriolanus scoffed. He knew his hands were cold, it was a side-effect of being hungry all the time. But Sejanus's hand was unreasonably warm as well. It was September, they shouldn’t have been.

“Well then,” Sejanus stepped away. “Goodbye. Don’t forget to call.”

As Coriolanus watched the door swing close behind Sejanus he wondered how he would acquire a telephone in the next six hours.

Chapter Text

4. A Lovely Dinner with the Plinths

“You didn’t call.” If Coriolanus hadn't known any better, he would have believed Sejanus was actually hurt.

“I forgot; my thoughts don’t revolve around you.” They did for the past month, but Sejanus didn't need to know that. 

Sejanus stuffed banknotes into Coriolanus’ hands, much more than a telephone cost. “It would be so much easier if you stopped lying, at least to me.”

Coriolanus grumbled, but he took the money.

They were standing in front of the new Plinth mansion's gates. Sejanus had just finished explaining his made-up fairytale to Coriolanus before they had dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Plinth. Sejanus had told his parents that he has been secretly dating someone (with an ancient name) and now that it's turned serious, with a wedding in sight, he wants to introduce him at home.

“Right, so at this point in your made-up timeline we have been engaged for months,” Coriolanus practiced the story as they walked up the comically long white stoned driveway.

“Yes. And if they ask about a ring, tell them it didn't go well with your outfit.”

“I wouldn't be caught dead with a ring that doesn't match all my outfits.”

“This was your idea, why are you making it so difficult?”

“I enjoy your frowny face.” Coriolanus was telling the truth, it gave him immense joy every time he annoyed Sejanus, because he knew Sejanus had to tolerate him if he wanted this to work.

When the door opened, Coriolanus didn’t expect Strabo Plinth himself to open it, what were Avoxes for then? Also, it seemed that Sejanus had forgotten to reveal the person of his mysterious fiancé.

“Ah, Coriolanus, what a surprise! We are expecting a guest tonight, apparently Sejanus has found a marriage candidate. But it’s always a delight to see you,” Strabo Plinth lied through his teeth with ease. They haven’t met in five years, and even if Strabo did not know the extent of Coriolanus and Sejanus’ fallout, he must have suspected it was over something grand.

“Actually, I would be the marriage candidate.” Coriolanus saw no reason to delay things further. It was better to get this over with, so that no one would make a scene at the wedding.

“Hah, that’s a good one!” Mr. Plinth laughed and patted Coriolanus on the shoulder. But when he didn’t laugh along, he froze. “You’re not joking.” Strabo Plinth stared at him, then at his son.

“No,” Sejanus said.

“Well then, come on in. I am very interested in the story.”

“Ma, you remember Coriolanus?” Sejanus asked, guiding him into the dining room. It was tastelessly grand, even for Coriolanus, and he had seen some tacky décor in his life.

“Of course I do!” the woman’s face practically lit up. “But what on earth is he doing here? Don’t we have an important guest for dinner?”

Mr. Plinth cleared his throat and gestured at Coriolanus.

“Oh! Oh. Oh!” Ma Plinth sounded like a dumbfounded parrot. “Shall we eat then? The food is waiting. Don't let it get cold!” she fretted around. In her colourful dress, now waving as well, she even looked like a parrot.

The dinner was pleasant and homely, though Coriolanus mostly just picked at it. He blamed it on nerves, but in actuality he just knew his stomach couldn't handle more than one course.

Ma Plinth had prepared the meals, not the staff. She must have thought that for such an important occasion she needed to cook, it would be more personal that way. Coriolanus had heard the stories about nightmare mother-in-laws; he was confident that none of that would happen with Sejanus’ mother; she practically adored him.

“Now don't keep us waiting boys, tell me, how did you meet? Last I remember, you had some fallout after the Peacekeeper training,” Ma Plinth inquired during the second course.

“That was years ago. And we were both young, stupid teenagers, with a lot to deal with,” Sejanus started their tale of fiction.

Like the death sentence he barely escaped, Coriolanus thought.

“So now what changed?” Strabo Plinth raised an eyebrow.

“Us. The circumstances.”

“Oh really?” Strabo Plinth wasn’t at all convinced. Fortunately, Sejanus had the perfect tale ready, and he began. It went that they accidently met again at a Winter Solstice party last December, where they talked out their differences and became friends again. Then their meet-ups started becoming more regular, and soon it turned romantic, and in July Sejanus had allegedly proposed. That was the only part of the tale that Coriolanus objected to; he wouldn't let Sejanus Plinth propose to him. But it needed to be this way, because Sejanus would wear his ring, even if it clashed with his outfit, and they had no idea where to get a ring from on a day's notice.

“Oh, that is such a sweet story boys,” Ma Plinth was tearing up. “I love it when life has happy endings.”

It seemed like Strabo Plinth was somewhat convinced now as well; he could easily believe that his unreasonably nice son would forgive a years old grudge, whatever may have caused it. They spent the rest of the dinner in a better mood, especially after Strabo ordered another bottle of wine to be opened up. Coriolanus did not drink much, nor did Sejanus, they needed to be fully alert to pull this off, but the dear parents were soon in a very good mood.

“Do you want to see the rest of the house?” Sejanus offered. “Ma, I'm showing Coriolanus the house.”

“Whatever you wish,” Ma Plinth waved, giggling.

When they got out of the stuffy dining room, Sejanus leaned his head against the wall. “That was less of a disaster than I expected.”

“I am generally loved by parents, I am a very polite boy.”

“My father likes you better than he likes me. I think he always did.”

“Well, if all goes according to plan, he can see me at every family reunion till the end of days.”

Sejanus had that ‘Oh what have I gotten myself into?’ look on his face again. As if he didn't spend hours yesterday writing a detailed romantic story about them. He wanted to push this, Coriolanus would have been fine with a wedding done in ten minutes.

Sejanus laughed.

“What?”

“Nothing. This whole thing is just ridiculous.”

“I know you said the house tour as an excuse, but could you show me to the restroom?”

“Go along this corridor, then turn left, it's the second door.”

The restroom, which doubled as a bathroom, was just as kitschy as the dining room had been. It had glittering dark tiles, with a marble clawfoot tub in the middle, up on a platform. The mirrors had blinding light bulbs around them, and the tap was gold colored. Or maybe actual gold. Half of this bathroom could pay for a whole year's rent, or years of food.

After Coriolanus had washed his hands, a tag sticking out of the towel scraped his hand. Did they forget to take out the tags or were these towels brand new because they were expecting a guest? He looked up at himself in the giant mirror, the lights not helping his pale complexion: he looked a bit dead, his cheeks sunken, eyebags pronounced. He was lucky that he needn't find a spouse the traditional way — wooing them with his looks — because right now he did not have much to offer. Coriolanus shook his head, put on his most charming smile and headed out.

It was getting late and the wine clearly having gone to Ma Plinth's head, Sejanus decided it was best for Coriolanus to leave. He accompanied him to the door, but as soon as it was closed behind him, Coriolanus could hear him turn around instantly and hurry into the depths of the mansion.

The night air was pleasantly warm for September, Coriolanus was actually glad of the walk home. In both hands he had bags filled with all the food Ma Plinth insisted he take home, lest it go to waste, and who was he to object to such a noble cause? Also, it meant no cabbage soup for at least a week. While his upcoming marriage had many disadvantages and seemingly only one benefit, Coriolanus found a new one: Ma Plinth's cooking.

He entered the flat quietly, so as to not wake up the others, but he found Tigris sitting at the kitchen table, working on sewing patterns.

“Coryo! Where have you been all evening?”

“A dinner. With leftovers.” He placed the bags on the counter.

“Oh, that is amazing. I just went over our budget for this week and I had nothing for the weekend but… oh, thank whoever sent it, Coryo, really thank them.”

I'm marrying their son, what more could they possibly ask for?, he thought. He needed to figure out how to present the news to Tigris without her growing suspicious. She didn't know either what had happened five years ago, Coriolanus refused to tell her and at some point she stopped asking.

“Coryo, by the way, I've been meaning to ask…” Tigris said, standing half-inside the fridge, trying to fit all of the leftovers. This was a rare occasion, having to make space in there.

“Yes?” he said, handing her another container, filled to the brim with mashed potatoes.

“What is this I'm hearing about you getting married?” Tigris asked. She closed the fridge and turned around, hands on her hips. “I heard it at Fabricia's. Livia Cardew's mother called to place an order this evening, and between two ridiculous requests, she shared this as well.”

Just how fast did Ma Plinth alert every other middle-aged woman in town? When she excused herself to the restroom before the soup? When Coriolanus and Sejanus were on their ,,house tour”?

“I didn't want you to hear about it like this. Wanted to give you time to ease into it.”

“Coryo...?”

“But I guess the cat's out of the bag now,” he smiled, using a phrase he would hear Grandma'am say, or some other old lady. Why was he nervous? This was Tigris, whatever he did, she would support him. And this was good news for her as well. No more running Fabricia's errands; with the Plinth money she could open her own salon if she wanted.

“Coryo, what?”

“It's not until October.” The last week of October, they had agreed. That's three months after the alleged proposal, that's long enough to seem real.

“You never mentioned anyone... how long has it been... what…” Tigris was at a loss for words. “I am so, so confused. Do we know her?”

“Yes, you know him.” Coriolanus didn't miss the small smile that flashed across his cousin's lips. Now what was that about? Did she know something he wasn't aware of? Did she see the future? Was she a seer and she somehow knew it was Sejanus and she knew his plan as well? No, she couldn't. Tigris was just like that, always smiling at him, supporting his endeavours.

“You're being mysterious. When did you meet? Why didn't you tell me?”

“I wasn't sure.” Because I met him again three days ago.

“Of what? That I'd approve? Coryo, I'd approve of anyone you loved, of course!” Tigris stepped closer and hugged him tightly.

“He's rich. We can get out of this dump.” Coriolanus felt like he was making excuses. As if Tigris would not adore Sejanus even if he wasn't drowning in money. But if he wasn't, this whole conversation would not be happening right now.

“Oh, Coryo, this is not why you're…” Tigris's lips quivered. Coriolanus was suddenly reminded of his worry about Tigris selling the only thing left — herself.

“No,” he said quickly. It was a less than ideal situation, but the downsides were more annoying than downright traumatic, as he imagined that kind of thing must be. “True love and whatnot,” he continued to hammer the point across. Coriolanus could have told Tigris the truth about his deal with Sejanus, she would keep it a secret. But is it a secret if two people know about it? It's better to not take chances. The more Tigris believes it's real, the bigger incentive it will give Coriolanus to play the part.

“Good. That's good. I'd never want you to feel the need to... to betray yourself, just to make it better for Grandma'am and I.” Did she ever feel like that? The thought made Coriolanus sick.

“It's just a lucky coincidence,” he said. Meeting Sejanus and overhearing his troubles, that was a lucky coincidence. The rest? No, that has been the work of his master planning, his attention to detail and his charming smile.

“Oh, but Coryo, you have to let me meet this mysterious prince charming of yours soon. Now that we have all this food, maybe he could come over for dinner? Surely we could clean up the place a little. Fabricia's recently renovated at her beach resort, she must have some leftover paint hidden somewhere. This room could use a little colour.”

Coriolanus thought about Sejanus sitting in this rundown apartment, eating leftovers his mother had made and chatting with Tigris. Somehow, the picture didn't seem that surreal. 

“Sure. Why not?” he said. It was a low price to pay for the money and power that will befall him in just a couple of weeks.

Chapter Text

5. A Lovely Dinner with the Snows

“The elevator doesn't work, we're climbing the stairs,” Coriolanus informed Sejanus. It was a chilly Friday night, perfect to spend inside the nearly freezing Snow flat, eating days old leftovers.

Sejanus looked up in the stairwell, eyebrows furrowed. “All the way to the top?”

“Yes. Oh and by the way, we're eating your mother's leftovers. If you make a face or a comment, I will personally end you.”

“Why would I? Ma's cooking is delightful.”

*

Tigris was frozen in place. It only lasted for a moment before she put on a charming smile and welcomed Sejanus in, but Coriolanus saw it on her face. She wasn't just surprised, she was shocked and confused. But she was a Snow, a master of keeping up appearances, and a few seconds later she was already deep in discussion with Sejanus. 

Grandma’am had been tactically, subtly manipulated into paying a visit to her friend in the other half of the Capitol. Coriolanus even paid for a taxi there and back, just to make sure she went. Tigris didn't understand the need for this, but she didn't argue. But it was for the best that Grandma'am would first meet Sejanus at the wedding, when her pride and dignity will not allow her to make a scene. She may frown, but that was nothing compared to what she would do right now, if she found out her precious grandson was marrying a district.

“And how did you two meet again? I haven't heard a word about you in years,” Tigris mused while sipping her soup.

“Why, he used to talk about me?” Sejanus grinned. Coriolanus suddenly remembered an embarrassing letter he had sent Tigris the day after Sejanus showed up in the barracks.

“Why yes, of course. He wrote me letters about you, about how glad he was to have you there with him in District 12. Whatever happened?” Tigris asked, clearly trying to pry. But if she had hoped Sejanus would tell her, she was wrong. He just shook his head.

“That's all in the past now.” And then he recounted their made-up reconnection once again. Coriolanus sat and listened to a story in which someone falls in love with him, for reasons that couldn't be further from the truth. Well, no, he was extraordinarily good-looking, but of course Sejanus had to ruin it by calling him pretty, not handsome. What kind of person calls a man ‘pretty’? Well, other than Sejanus Plinth, of course. And the worst part was that Coriolanus was almost certainly sure that Sejanus really meant it as a compliment. Oh, what would Crassus Snow think of his son, if he saw his situation…

“That sounds like something out of a romance novel. I'm glad it worked out,” Tigris smiled softly. 

They spent the rest of the meal exchanging Academy anecdotes, as that was practically the only thing they had in common. School was a good topic, it allowed Coriolanus’ mind to wander and think of the upcoming weeks. First thing tomorrow he will get the news of the wedding in the papers, then he will try to convince Sejanus to have it televised, after he's done with that he will organise the televisation, and of course he has to make a guest list of the most imposing people. Maybe he would leave the decorations to Sejanus, he was a sentimentalist, he must be good at it. And if Coriolanus doesn't approve, it can always be changed. They were going all out, Coriolanus wanted this wedding to be a bigger event than President Ravinstill's birthday. And when he becomes president, his birthday will become a national holiday, so everyone can spend their time doing something actually worthwhile: celebrating his greatness.

He began glancing at the old cuckoo-clock on the wall, but Sejanus didn't seem to notice. Or maybe he did, but continued to chit-chat to annoy him. Fortunately Tigris came to his rescue.

“This has been splendid, but I have to wake up early tomorrow. Coryo, why don't you show Sejanus around the flat while I put away the dishes and then we can say our goodbyes?” Coriolanus knew what she was doing, trying to be nice and giving them some alone time, as one would expect a couple engaged to be married would very much like. But sure, why shouldn't he show Sejanus the rathole they lived in? Let him see what his family turned the Snows into.

“Sure. Come on. There are very interesting things ahead.” Coriolanus dragged Sejanus by the arm through the archway into the small living room. The ceiling was moldy and the TV was constantly buzzing; simply hitting it wasn't working anymore.

“Very cozy,” Sejanus commented.

“Wait til you see the dump where I sleep.” He led him through a small corridor and into an even smaller room. It barely fit a bed pushed against the wall, a desk under the small window and a dresser in the corner. The room still smelled of roses, Grandma'am had the habit of putting them in every room in the house.

“So this is where the magic happens. The great ideas.” Sejanus thumbed through a stack of papers on the desk. “Officer training?”

“That’s none of your business. I forgot to put them away.”

“So it didn't work out.”

“Would you be here, poking your nose into my things if it did?” Coriolanus snapped.

“Okay, sorry. Didn't know it was a sore spot. People have to walk on their tiptoes around you, lest they hurt your ego.” And yet he continued snooping around his stuff. Coriolanus wasn't fast enough to stop him from opening the second drawer.

“Oh!” Sejanus gasped. He was holding a photo. Coriolanus knew exactly which one. He was quickly upon him, trying to snatch the picture, but Sejanus held up his arm, and he was still infuriatingly taller. Sejanus craned his neck to look at it from such a weird position. “Why did you keep this? Keepsake from the start of your worst summer?” Coriolanus looked at the photo. It was the one accidently taken before the Reaping for the Tenth Hunger Games, both of them looking like mere children, smiling into the camera, Sejanus’ arm around Coriolanus’ shoulder.

“I kept it to laugh at your hair.” Coriolanus tried to reach the picture, but with no success.

“Still better than your buzzcut in Twelve.”

“There was nothing wrong with that.”

“You looked bald, Coriolanus, your face was the same colour as your hair!”

“You're wrong. Come on, give it back!” Coriolanus put his left hand on Sejanus’ shoulder and jumped up, almost grabbing the picture, but instead Sejanus, ever the loser, lost his balance and they tumbled backwards onto the bed. Sejanus was looming above him, propping himself up with his arms. His hair was falling into his face, he looked ridiculous. Coriolanus, no doubt momentarily possessed, reached up and moved Sejanus’ hair out of his face.

And as Coriolanus’ luck went these days, it was no surprise that Tigris appeared in the doorway at this exact moment.

“I thought I heard a scream but… oh, sorry. You know what, I have some fabric to sort anyway, I will just…” she slammed the door and clacked away in her heels.

“Well, there’s no doubt now that she believes us.” Sejanus rolled off Coriolanus and gave him back the picture. “Here, have your memento, if you want it so bad.”

“Thank you for giving me back my own property,” Coriolanus grunted and sat up. There was a small, cracked mirror on the opposite wall. “Look at my hair! You messed it all up. You cause problem after problem.”

Sejanus didn't retort, and Coriolanus also felt that this was weak, he could do better. 

After what Coriolanus dubbed The Incident, Sejanus was quick to leave, he didn’t even wait for Tigris to say her goodbyes; he went down the stairs quicker than Coriolanus had ever seen him do anything in gym class.

“He's lovely,” Tigris said after she locked the door. “You make a great pair.”

My name and his money make an even better one, Coriolanus thought, but he just nodded. All in all, the evening had been a success.

*

Coriolanus was staring at a crack in his ceiling, trying to fall asleep. His mind kept coming back to memories of his Peacekeeper days. The training, the mushy lunches, the evenings at the Hob, running after jabberjays in the thirty degree heat, Sejanus snoring in the bunk next to him… the only part of those weeks that hadn't come up down this uneasy trip on memory lane was Lucy Gray. Even when he reminisced about the lake, he didn't think about the girl singing, or babbling on about katnisses, no, he thought about Sejanus playing some sort of keep-away game with the covey children and accidently hitting Coriolanus in the head with a pinecone. If he recalled correctly, Coriolanus pushed him into the lake for it, but his victory didn’t last long, Sejanus grabbed his arm and pulled him in as well. Then he commented something about the sky and having never seen such a blue color, then he corrected himself and said Coriolanus’ eyes were bluer.

These were strange things to think about, but he was probably just tired. That must have been it. What else would bring on these Sejanus-centered memories? Surely not seeing him every day for the past week, or having spent the last month thinking about him…

Chapter Text

6. Until Death or Our Heavily Conflicting Worldviews Do Us Part

October

When Coriolanus woke up, he was cold. Unusually so; he slept under three blankets and that used to do the trick. He sat up and stared out the window. The rain was coming down in buckets, the pavement was practically a river. Then thunder struck the sky, making the window panes shake. Coriolanus hated that sound, it reminded him of the air-raids during the war.

If he had been superstitious, he would have regarded the storm on the morning of his wedding a sort of dire omen, a sign that this was a bad idea. But since he was above that, Coriolanus just worried about the venue being drenched in mud and his shoes getting dirty.

The wedding was to be held at the Appius family’s old palace, which had been bought up ages ago by a corporation and rented for various events. It had a giant park with mastefully shaped bushes, perfectly aligned flowers; inside were countless dining halls and ballrooms and for the guests who needed it, overnight accommodation upstairs, in luxury suites.

Coriolanus arrived at the venue after a breakfast consisting of two pieces of dry toast. He needed to oversee the preparations, it had to be perfect. It took some convincing, but Sejanus agreed to have at least the ceremony itself televised and the speeches at the start of dinner.

“Why do you want to have a camera in your face all day?” he had asked.

“Because then people will know I have the Plinth money and they will race to offer me higher and higher positions. And they will know you became a prestigious Snow as well,” Coriolanus added, remembering the other half of their deal.

“Plinth-Snow,” Sejanus corrected.

And it seemed like the future Sejanus Plinth-Snow too wanted to micromanage the event. Coriolanus found him hunched over the seating plan, the baker standing a few steps away, seemingly on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Sejanus ignored her, lost in the charts of tables and chairs.

“What's the matter?” Coriolanus asked the baker.

“The cake toppled over,” she said. “We were carrying it inside, but the front hall is full of muddy footsteps and…”

“The wedding is in three hours and there's no cake?”

“We have time to make another one, but it will not be as grand.”

The cake had been eight tiers tall, carefully decorated with red marzipan roses. Now it will be what, three tier at most? And barely decorated. Again, if Coriolanus had been superstitious, this would also have been an omen. Instead he just wanted to fire the baker. But he couldn't do that, not before she made a new cake. Then he can, for not doing her job properly. And they better not expect to receive a paycheck! 

After the baker went away, wringing her hands, Coriolanus sat down next to Sejanus.

“Coriolanus, may I ask why you segregated my guests to a tiny corner?”

“I did not. This is the most optimal seating plan, taking into consideration all the variables and possible unforeseeable happenings.”

“No, they have two tables at the back of the room, behind the door,” Sejanus pointed at the plan. He was wearing an old ring that Coriolanus had dug up a week ago so as to solidify that they really were doing this. It wasn't worth much, so they never sold it. It was more of a sentimental piece, a simple rose gold band that used to belong to Coriolanus’ mother, it had a carving of a rose flower on the inner side. 

Sejanus tapped the drawing of the hidden tables again.

It wasn't Coriolanus’ fault that the individuals Sejanus liked to surround himself with weren't television-material!

“Parents of the spouses are supposed to sit together with the couple… that is, my parents with your cousin and grandmother. And my friends will sit next to our ex-classmates. And you can't order the television crew to avoid anyone, unless they ask for it.”

“Who are you to give me orders about my seating plan for my wedding?”

“Coriolanus, in case you aren't aware, you need two people to have a wedding. And as long as my money pays for your cake and camera crew and palace and menu and registrar and suit and shoes and—”

“Fine, okay,” Coriolanus raised his hands in acceptance. “Okay. Put your friends wherever.” It was a minor problem, but as long as the wedding and the following gain of wealth was on, he felt he could give up some of his principles. A few hours of this disaster and then he will once again be on the path a Snow should be in an ideal world. As much as he loved the Capitol, it had its flaws; were it perfect, he would not be marrying Sejanus Plinth in a matter of hours.

*

“Would it have killed you to put in a bit more effort?” Coriolanus looked at Sejanus’ poorly tightened tie.

“Yes.” Sejanus did not look like a happy groom, neither did Coriolanus. He was wearing a newly made red suit, designed by Tigris (she really was talented), with a white rose on the lapel, courtesy of Grandma’am. She barely tsk-ed when she found out about Sejanus two hours ago, Coriolanus was right to count on her pride to not make a scene. He spent half an hour in front of the mirror combing his hair so it sat at the perfect angle and the waves were in the right place. And then there was Sejanus, who was wearing a well-fitted but boring black suit and tie and his left shoe had a scrape on the back of it; ever since Coriolanus noticed it, it was all he could focus on. 

“Wouldn't dare to rob you of a chance to be a show-off.”

“At least I have something to show off.”

“Just because you're pretty doesn’t mean anyone cares more about you.”

“Stop it, don't call me that.” Coriolanus flicked an imaginary spot of dust off his shoulder to avoid looking at Sejanus.

“I don't know why you can't take a compliment. You bully me because I'm not pretending to be nice enough but when I am, I'm in the wrong?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe all those ‘I hate my spouse’ jokes were based off of us, someone saw the future.” 

But before Coriolanus could think of a comeback, it was time for the most crucial element of his master plan.

The wedding.

Tigris had walked him down the aisle and she was sobbing the whole time, as if someone had died.

My pride and dignity, for sure, Coriolanus thought as he watched a similarly emotional Ma Plinth shepherd her son to the front as well. The camera was set up to Coriolanus’ right, behind the registrar, it looked right over the man's shoulder, capturing the perfect view of both the happy couple and the first rows of the two hundred guests (twenty of which had been Sejanus's).

The registrar started his speech about everlasting love and Coriolanus zoned out during the second mention of trust and respect. He certainly respected many aspects of Sejanus, his bank account for example, and his mother's cooking as well. He hoped that on camera it looked like the smile the thought of that money had put on his face seemed directed towards Sejanus. The registrar had asked them to take each other's hands at the start, and he was still going on about the beauties of marriage. He wasn't paid by the hour, there really was no need for this.

Sejanus’ hands were warm against Coriolanus’ freezing ones, and he was getting increasingly uncomfortable. Sejanus was staring at a spot behind his back, maybe counting how many red and orange leaves were still on the maple trees lining the place. (Three-thousand four hundred and seventy-four, Coriolanus had counted them this morning, trying to calm down after the affair with the cake.) 

Coriolanus finally heard the cue to say the wretched, damning, finalising ‘I do’. And so he did. On television, Coriolanus Snow agreed to spend the rest of his life with none other than Sejanus Plinth. As Sejanus muttered the same, Coriolanus suddenly felt glad his father had been shot in that forest fifteen years ago, because a heart attack probably would have taken him just about now.

“You may kiss now,” the registrar said. It seemed that out of the three of them, he was the most enthusiastic about this whole relationship.

Of course Coriolanus knew this would have to happen, and he couldn’t hesitate, given that to the outside world he was deeply in love, but he had ignored the problem so far and now he was frozen. If it wasn't for Sejanus’ own instinct to save face, this would have been a disaster.

Sejanus leaned in closer and whispered “Don't act like this is the first time we've done this,” then he locked their lips together. His lips were chapped and he tasted like the awful watermelon soda he had been drinking since morning because ,,he deserved it, it's the worst day of his life”. The kiss only lasted a few moments, but it was enough for Coriolanus to spend the next few minutes on auto-pilot, trying not to remember in heavy detail the incidents Sejanus had referred to. He smiled, he shook hands, he accepted the showers of congratulations without a significant part of his brain being present. No, it was back in the Academy, then back in District 12.

Tigris practically jumping on him to envelope him in a hug snapped him out of the near sleepwalking state.

“Coryo, I am so happy for you! So, so happy! It was beautiful!”

“I don't know, the registrar was a bit of a chatterbox.”

“Oh, that doesn't matter,” she waved. “I'll go congratulate Sejanus as well, then I'll go mingle. There are some old classmates here I haven't seen in a while…”

Speaking of classmates, Festus, Clemensia and Livia appeared in front of Coriolanus seemingly out of nowhere.

“I never thought it'd be you to get married first,” Festus said.

“I'm more surprised about your husband of choice,” Livia frowned.

“Don't bully him on his wedding day; we can do that later. I'm kidding,” Clemensia laughed, but it wasn't an honest one. “We wish you every happiness, and all those other clichés we're supposed to say.”

“I guess he could be considered somewhat handsome… in better lighting maybe…” Livia mused. “Or like… is the sex that good?”

“I think the bank account is good,” Festus commented.

“Sejanus has many great qualities,” Coriolanus said diplomatically. He would have liked to move on to the next group of delighted guests now. Fortunately the photographer announced it was time for pictures, so he could excuse himself.

“Keep smiling," Sejanus said through his teeth as they posed for yet another picture, eerily similar to the Academy one from five years ago. “This was your idea after all.”

“I wouldn't need your money if your family hadn't taken it from mine,” Coriolanus whispered. “So it's your fault we're here.”

“No one took your money.”

“Agree to disagree.”

“So early in our joyful union?”

The photographer left to snap some pictures of the Plinth parents. Coriolanus let go of Sejanus' waist with a grunt. Time to talk to the actually important people here. He made sure to invite every high standing name whose addresses he could get his hands on. The more of the elite he was supposed to belong to saw that he had money and thus position, the better. He expected a government job any second now.

But the government job offer did not come to him after the ceremony, nor after the speeches, nor during the dinner. Perhaps they didn't want to bother him at his wedding. That was fair enough, he supposed. He got this far, what's a few more days or weeks?

Coriolanus ate two bowls of soup and half of the second course, then he conveniently went to mingle during the third and fourth courses, but still couldn't bring himself to touch the cake. His stomach wasn't used to so much food at once. His suit started to feel unbearably hot, the dining hall stuffy. He had a window opened, but it didn't help.

“Coryo, are you okay? You look pale,” Tigris asked, a crease of worry on her forehead.

“It's a bit warm in here,” he breathed. “I think I'll go out for some fresh air.” Coriolanus got up and sneaked out. He didn't need fresh air, he needed somewhere to throw up. The restroom was fortunately close by. He didn't bother to close the stall door, he hugged the toilet and a few moments later his dinner was looking back at him. His first thought was what a waste of food this was. Then he realised that he had all the money in the world now, he needn't worry about that anymore. Coriolanus leaned against the cold, tiled wall of the stall, sitting on the toilet floor swarming with all kinds of different disgusting bacteria. He would need to get this suit cleaned four times before he would even touch it again.

He was still shaking and his nausea did not go away. With another grunt he leaned above the bowl again. After that Coriolanus continued sitting on the floor. Minutes passed, or maybe even an hour, or a whole decade, he didn't know. He was focusing on his heartbeat somehow being in his stomach and the sweat slowly drying under his shirt. He used to be so skilled at public appearances. His life's goal was to be president, one long continuous public appearance. What was wrong with him?

The door to the restroom opened.

“Here you are! People are looking for you!” Of course it was Sejanus, the knight in shining armor looking for his vanished husband.

“Let them,” Coriolanus said weakly.

Sejanus stood in the stall's open door, arms crossed across his chest. “Have you been sitting on the floor this whole time?”

“What does it look like?”

Sejanus sighed. He closed the toilet lid and sat on it, elbows on his knees. “Come back,” he said. “Ninety percent of the guests came to see you, I can't keep them entertained forever. Please?” he asked, in the nicest tone he had hit since their meeting in September. And because the world was still spinning a bit when Sejanus dragged him up, Coriolanus fell victim to Sejanus’ big, soulful eyes. It was a pity to acknowledge, but this did not happen for the first time in his life. 

Coriolanus washed his face and fixed his hair in front of the mirror. “Do I look okay?”

“Gorgeous. Can we go now?”

No one seemed to realise that the newlyweds disappeared, they sat back to their table without being noticed. Sejanus sipped his posca in quiet, observing the crowd of, to him, mostly strangers. Suddenly, he put down his glass and leaned closer to Coriolanus. He had a stern look on his face, so far removed from only minutes ago in the restroom.

“Now that I signed the papers, you're not going to poison me and become a sorrowful widow, are you?”

Coriolanus was offended Sejanus would even dare to assume such a thing. When has he ever done anything bad to him? Well, except the bird-incident. But he lived, so it was all right.

“I didn't even think about that before you mentioned it just now,” he shrugged.

“Oh, great.” Sejanus sat up straight, pushing his glass further.

“I wouldn't poison you,” Coriolanus said in a voice he intended as reassuring.

“Is the emphasis on I, poison, or you?” 

“Let that be my secret.”

“Already starting the marriage with lies and secrets?”

“The whole marriage is a lie, what's one more?”

*

The rest of the night was a blur. Coriolanus sent down a few shots to calm his stomach and his mood definitely shifted from awful to neutral after that; Tigris had even managed to convince him to dance with her. Ma Plinth was an enthusiastic dancer as well, after forcing her husband and son to stumble around with her, she insisted Coriolanus dance with Sejanus. Sejanus saved both of them by complaining about knee pain caused by his age-old injury, back from when he and Coriolanus barely escaped the arena. The excuse worked, because it turned out to be true, or Sejanus was a really good and cruel actor. 

It was around three a.m. when everyone left, either back home or to their rooms the venue provided. Coriolanus and Sejanus had rooms on the opposite ends of the third floor. Naturally the elevator chose to break down when they could finally step into it, so not only was Coriolanus tired, dealing with a stomach ache and the early stages of a hangover, but now he had to drag Sejanus and his knee pain up six flights of stairs, because it would have been odd if they were seen separate. It had been a struggle, but as always, Coriolanus emerged victorious.

“Right. Good night then,” he said, standing in the doorway.

“You too. Have a good wedding-night,” Sejanus grinned.

“Oh I'm going to sleep so well after today.”

For once he was right about this; Coriolanus’ head barely hit the pillow and he was out, with no strange memories or unsettling dreams to disturb him.

Chapter Text

7. Honeymoon, But the Honey's Made from Andromeda

November

The train ride to District 4 had been brief but tense. Sitting in opposite ends of the nearly empty first-class car and conspicuously avoiding looking at each other wasn’t enough; halfway through the journey Coriolanus simply decided to move his headquarters to the buffet car, where the more social specimens of first-class were congregating. He needed to start making useful friends anyway. 

By the time they got off at the platform in District 4 with a taxi waiting to take them to the seaside resort they will spend the two egregious weeks of honeymoon in, Coriolanus had managed to give his (new and updated, ‘Coriolanus Snow-Plinth’) business cards to four people. What Sejanus had been doing during the journey, he did not know, nor did he care.

While Coriolanus generally held the opinion that extended holidays are a waste of time (why lie on a beach when you could be elevating your position in society?), he had to admit that the Silver Palm Resort was quite something. It was five floors of white stone, with lots of terraces and natural light, palm trees and colourful flowers lining every pathway and only a minute away from the beach. 

The room they got was spacious, bigger than the Snows’ flat, though that in itself was not much of an achievement. From the entryway you entered a living room with a big, extendable plush sofa. From here opened the balcony looking over the sea and the endless blue skies. To the living room's left was the bedroom with a bed twice the size of the ones in the Appius palace, to the right was a bathroom with obnoxious teal tile and a clawfoot tub in the middle; apparently it was the fashion these days.

“I'll be nice and take the ridiculously huge sofa,” Sejanus said, then promptly dragged his suitcase into the living room and shut the door.

Coriolanus shrugged and started packing his things neatly into the drawers and wardrobes. He and Tigris spent the day before the honeymoon going on a shopping spree that Grandma'am had described as insane, but as she was saying this in the middle of her rose-filled greenhouse atop a newly bought penthouse she and Tigris now shared, she couldn't argue much.

Coriolanus had also brought a notebook with him in case he had a sudden burst of inspiration on how to become president in a month, or if he met someone important and they shared useful information. You never know. But first he would indulge in the beach. Sometimes even a future president needs to lie on a deckchair and do nothing.

On his way out through the lobby Coriolanus grabbed a couple of newspapers and magazines that were put out for the guests. He got comfortable in a chair under the shade of a bright green umbrella, put on his sunglasses and opened the first gossip paper. Not surprisingly, he saw his own face staring back at him. And Sejanus was there as well. The article detailed their fairytale-esque love story and had made-up quotes by people who did not even attend. The next magazine contained the same with another picture and different wording, the next one as well, and the next, and the next. It was what he had wished for, but still, it felt strange seeing himself with such a genuine-looking smile and reading their story again and again, knowing that the only true words were that they are married. He supposed they'll need to get some photos from the honeymoon as well, so Coriolanus was on the lookout for paparazzi.

The beach wasn't crowded, not many people could afford to stay here. There were families with screaming children, another three couples on their honeymoons or anniversaries, old ladies reminiscent of Grandma'am, and a circle of people Coriolanus's age, seemingly a friend group. Coriolanus leaned back in the deckchair, closing his eyes. He supposed he could get a bit of tan, he did look sickly pale when he changed into his swimming trunks. And what would that look like on the cover of — he glanced at one of the magazines lying about — the Weekly Witness, or some other gutter-press?

Coriolanus had just finished ordering himself a drink, when one of the women from the friend group walked up to him.

“Hello. We were wondering if you'd like to join us, since you're sitting here all alone.”

“I'm quite comfortable here, thank you. I'm on my honeymoon.”

“Oh. Okay then. Goodbye.” 

The woman retreated, and buried her face in her hands as her friends burst out laughing at her failure.

“You're left to your own devices for thirty minutes…” Coriolanus heard Sejanus’ voice behind him.

“What can I say? I'm incredibly charming,” he said without opening his eyes.

Sejanus pulled a chair next to Coriolanus and picked up a paper. “Oh, this is horrid. Every friend of Ma in the hair salon is looking at this right now.”

“Then hopefully they tell their business-oriented spouses only that Coriolanus Snow has a lot of money now.”

“Coriolanus Snow's husband has a lot of money.”

Coriolanus glanced at Sejanus's hand. Not only was he wearing the wedding ring, but the cheap rose gold one as well that Coriolanus had given him. Damned sentimentalist.

Coriolanus held up his ring finger, the sunlight catching on the gold band. “It’s our money now.”

Sejanus grunted. He threw his childish, seashell patterned beach towel at Coriolanus’ head, then stomped off to the group with the pathetic woman. Of course he would make friends with them. 

*

Sejanus made such good friends with them that Coriolanus was forced to dine with them every evening. They were all annoying, every single one of them. After the third night Coriolanus would have rather spent this time with Sejanus, at least when it was the two of them he didn't speak, just glared. But with his new friends? Sejanus was laughing, making jokes, being nice… everything he was with Coriolanus according to the dozens of articles. Then all this friendship extended to the day hours as well, instead of sitting in silence next to Coriolanus on a deckchair, Sejanus was off to jump off short rocks into the water or explore the surrounding area or do other awful activities with Minicia, Vorenia, Zeno and the second guy whose name Coriolanus didn't catch, nor did he care. 

This afternoon they were playing beach volleyball, Sejanus and Vorenia against the other three, because he was the strongest and she was apparently a champion in regular volleyball. A champion where, Coriolanus didn't know, he wasn’t sure he even believed it.

He had to move his chair closer to the makeshift pitch, because Zeno, that idiot, made the logical observation of ‘Sejanus you've got your husband here, he can be the audience.’ So Coriolanus now had to watch ten uncoordinated limbs run around, trying to hit a ball, instead of doing important networking with the horde of businessmen who had arrived yesterday from a conference in District Seven.

As Coriolanus watched Sejanus, Livia's comment at the wedding came back to him: ‘I guess he could be considered somewhat handsome… in better lighting maybe…’ The bright sun on the beach was certainly good lighting. Or it was all relative anyway. Because compared to the scrawny Zeno for example, Sejanus was the winner by far. Where Zeno or even Coriolanus himself (though he had an excuse) was all ribcages and visible veins, Sejanus had a healthy amount of meat on him and some muscle. Well, not some, unreasonably much. Coriolanus could observe the phenomenon as Sejanus repeatedly missed the volleyball, but he tried really hard, flexing his shoulders and arms. Coriolanus unexpectedly remembered those same arms around his waist at the wedding. Oh I'm starting to get a heat stroke, he shook his head.

Despite the unwavering thirty degree heat, Coriolanus refused to go into the water, fearing it would damage his hair. Obviously, as some sort of cruel joke from the universe, in plotting against Coriolanus, it made sure that despite having spent the last days in the salty seawater, Sejanus's hair wasn't frizzy at all; his curls looked as soft to the touch as ever.

“Hey, I asked you a question,” Vorenia shouted at Coriolanus, snapping him out of his train of thought.

“Let him ogle his husband,” Minicia shrugged. Coriolanus scowled slightly. He wasn't ogling anyone, let alone Sejanus.

“I was just asking if he wanted to join because I have to leave soon.”

“No, I'm much better at observing.” The last time Coriolanus participated in any sort of strenuous physical activity was five years ago during the Peacekeeper training and before that when he was running for his life in the arena. And also, he never liked team sports. Whenever he was forced to participate as a child he tried to establish authority over them, it was always more efficient if the rest listened to the smartest one, namely him.

As she said, Vorenia soon left, which halted the others as well, she was the only one whose game resembled volleyball in the slightest.

“You’ll be there, right?” Minicia asked Sejanus. She had her bag in hand, ready to go back to the hotel.

“Of course, at eight p.m. sharp. I'm excited to meet them.”

“We said only good things about you, live up to it,” Zeno said, patting Sejanus on the shoulder, then they were gone.

Sejanus threw himself into the deckchair next to Coriolanus. “You got out of bed on the wrong side today or what? You're looking at them as if they were serial killers.”

“Where are you going with them tonight?”

“That's none of your business.”

“It is if you're being so secretive about it.”

“You're nosy, did anyone ever tell you that?” Yes, multiple times. But Coriolanus always had a good reason to be snooping around, eavesdropping where he wasn't supposed to.

“Arachne Crane called me a bitch once.” Though that was because he had allegedly stolen her almost-boyfriend. Was it his fault that the guy was more entranced by his innocent looking baby blue eyes than the daggers Arachne called her eyes? One could hardly blame him for being better, it was a natural skill that came with having been born a Snow.

“She wasn't wrong,” Sejanus nodded as if he had just said something incredibly wise. “I am meeting Vorenia's other friends, if you’re so interested.”

“What friends?”

“I don't know, I'll know when I get there. But they're actually from around here.” As soon as Sejanus had said it, he sighed, knowing Coriolanus enough to know what would follow.

“Are you insane?!” Coriolanus whispered with the tone of a yell. “You’re not going anywhere with them.”

“You have no right to tell me what to do.” Sejanus stood up, grabbed his towel and turned to head back to the resort. Coriolanus jumped up and grabbed his arm.

“We both remember what happened the last time I let you roam around in a district as your little heart desired, no?” Coriolanus made a motion around his head with his hand, then yanked his neck sideways. He searched Sejanus’ face, seeing if he went too far, but he could read nothing from his expression.

“Awfully dark topic for such a sunny day. Don't worry, I'm not associating with rebels. Not anymore. It might surprise you, but I’ve learnt a few lessons during that summer.”

“Good, how would that make me look? Next thing you know our wedding photos will be on the front page of every paper Panem wide: SCANDAL! Coriolanus Snow kissing a rebel sympathiser?”

“You didn't have a problem doing that back in Twelve,” Sejanus said in an accusatory tone.

Coriolanus did not have a good retort for that, he couldn't deny it.

*

five years ago, August

It happened the night after he had sent the recording to Dr. Gaul and couldn't sleep. He tried to calm himself by practically hanging upside down from his bunk and staring at the soundly sleeping Sejanus, but to no avail. Coriolanus still had the tense feeling in his stomach that something will go wrong and Sejanus won't just be shipped back to the Capitol.

He snuck out to have some fresh air, and somehow Sejanus sensed his absence and followed him. They sat on a wobbly bench probably intended to be thrown out. Coriolanus in his emotional turmoil started saying some sickeningly syrupy stuff about how good of a friend Sejanus is and how much he likes him and how lucky he is to have him here, that he really wasn't kidding about contemplating the merits of suicide before Sejanus showed up... and Sejanus looked at him with those large, brown eyes of his, his warm hands gripping Coriolanus’ cold and shaky ones, and suddenly Coriolanus realised that he has no idea what he will do if he loses this boy he thought he did not care for. Sejanus had been a constant, stable presence in his life since they were children, even if more often than not an unwanted one. 

But Coriolanus couldn't say all that without raising questions, so instead he grabbed Sejanus’ face. The other boy looked at him questioningly. Coriolanus ran his thumb over the mole on his right cheek.

“Coryo...?” Sejanus asked, the unsaid question behind it. Coriolanus committed and pushed his lips against his friend's. It was clumsy, he kissed the corner of his mouth instead by accident, but Sejanus quickly corrected, wrapping his arms around Coriolanus’ waist.

Sejanus threw his leg over the side of the bench, Coriolanus did the same, moving closer. He brushed his fingers into Sejanus’ short hair. It was actually criminal that he had to cut it, it was a great loss. Then Coriolanus couldn't ponder such philosophical questions anymore, because unfortunately Sejanus was a talented kisser; despite holding onto Coriolanus, as if he would even think about going anywhere right now, he kissed like his life depended on it. Coriolanus realised with a sudden, terrifying thought that Sejanus could very well die in a day if the bird got to Dr. Gaul. So as to eliminate these worrying thoughts and feelings of guilt, instead he focused on Sejanus licking his lips and pushing his tongue inside his mouth. Much better things to occupy yourself with. 

Even though it felt like a moment and a decade had gone by at once, Coriolanus knew it couldn't have been more than two minutes. After they separated he suddenly felt nauseous. He sent Sejanus to the gallows. Sejanus, who saw he wasn’t alright and followed him outside, breaking curfew rules, just to check on him, and then he even kissed him back. 

Coriolanus jumped up and left without a word. He couldn't look Sejanus in the eye.

*

present, November

“Well,” Coriolanus said a moment later, not letting Sejanus have the last word, “that was then. So—”

“No ‘so’, Coriolanus. It's a waste of time to even discuss this, I don't care about your opinions.”

“And I don’t care about yours either, but you have to understand that after last week, your stupidity will become my stupidity to the world; right now we are one entity. And believe me, I am trying to distance myself.”

“Distance yourself back to your spot on the beach then, no one asked you to sit here. Then you won’t be spying on me and creating conspiracy theories.”

“It's not a baseless assumption.”

Sejanus looked properly angry now. Not as angry as he had been when he threw a chair at the screen at the start of the 10th Games, but still.

An employee of the resort came strutting towards them, halting the argument before it escalated further.

“Which one of you is Mr. Coriolanus Snow?” she asked.

“I am.” Coriolanus looked at the woman from above his sunglasses, one eye still on Sejanus. “Why?”

“There is a telephone call for you in the lobby,” the woman explained.

“Am I speaking to Mr. Snow?” On the other side of the telephone was a woman, sounding in her forties, speaking in a slight District 1 accent, though she was calling from the Capitol.

“Snow-Plinth, but yes.” Coriolanus was standing in a corner of the lobby next to the wall phone.

“Ah yes, of course, I've read the news about your marriage, congratulations. I hope I'm not bothering?”

“No, not at all, I'm just in the middle of my honeymoon.”

“I am terribly sorry then. But I think you will be interested in what I have to say. My name is Amethyst Lux, Capitol representative of Radiance Ruby. The Mayor of District 1.”

“Yes, I know who Radiance Ruby is.” Coriolanus didn't want to admit that he only remembered the lady because of her ridiculous alliterating name.

“The thing is, my assistant recently left, and I haven't found a replacement. But I've heard word about your diplomatic capabilities and work ethic. And with such prestigious people as the Plinths backing you, I took a chance.”

The Plinths as prestigious people? In what world? “Are you offering me a job as an assistant's assistant?”

“I am a representative, Mr. Snow-Plinth. I attend meetings with not only the leading people of Panem and the Capitol, but often with President Ravinstill as well. And the president is a generous man, if he sees the potential in someone…”

“... fine, I will take it. Now let me enjoy my beach holiday. Goodbye, Ms. Lux.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Snow-Plinth. I will send the details to your Capitol address.” With that, Amethyst Lux put down the phone; the receiver clicked on the other end.

“That was quick.” Coriolanus turned around in a haste, to see Sejanus leaning against a pillar. His stupid flip-flops squeaked on the marble floor and the towel around his neck did not stop the water dripping from his hair. Coriolanus intently followed a drop until it disappeared at the hem of Sejanus’ swimming trunks.

“I told you, this will be beneficial for both of us,” he said.

“I have yet to see where I benefit.”

“Your father no longer bothers you to get married. That's what you wanted, that's what you got. It's not my fault my goals are of a higher quality.”

“Your goals are stupid.” Sejanus threw his towel over his shoulder, and clacked away to the elevator.

The remaining days of the honeymoon passed similarly. Coriolanus would wake up to find Sejanus had already disappeared, sometimes to the beach, sometimes to he didn't know where with his new friends and their District 4 friends. Coriolanus spent his days reading magazines, or harassing Ms. Lux on the phone to give him work he can do here, but the woman refused to ,,ruin his honeymoon”.

And as Sejanus kept to his word and did not associate with dangerous rebels, (or if he did, he did not get compromised) him and Coriolanus arrived back safely at the Capitol, and then to their new house.

“It's ridiculous,” Sejanus commented. After the wedding Strabo Plinth had transferred ownership of one of his many mansions to them. Well, actually, to Coriolanus, which must have felt like a punch in the gut for Sejanus, knowing that his father didn't even trust him with this. But Coriolanus felt Mr. Plinth had done the right thing, he wouldn't trust Sejanus not to build an orphanage out of the house or something equally noble either. And he was glad of the three floors and large amount of square metres, it meant Coriolanus can have his side of the house and Sejanus can have his own and they won't have to see each other.

The next time Coriolanus called Ms. Lux was from his newly furnished office. The woman was glad of his eagerness, though she expressed some worry about him trying to work during his honeymoon. But in the end she was just glad to have found a new assistant. Instantly Coriolanus was tasked to write three speeches that will be used at various important events in the coming weeks.

“And who knows,” Ms. Lux said, “if what you write is exceptional, maybe you can accompany me to an important dinner.”

While Coriolanus got to work on the speeches, Sejanus found himself busy as well. Coriolanus saw him running around the estate in the midst of managing this and that. First he refused to have Avoxes, angering his father (a conflict Coriolanus had to solve), then he wanted to give too big of a paycheck to the cook (a conflict Coriolanus had to solve, but he lost; the cook was a very insistent woman and he had speeches to write), then he let go a valet, reasoning that he is not three years old, he can dress himself (so Coriolanus now had two valets, each more annoying and self-important than the other), and so on. The worst was when he tried to discuss these miniscule problems with Coriolanus.

“... and I don't understand why cutting their tongues out is good for anyone!”

“They are criminals,” Coriolanus offered an answer, hoping Sejanus would leave his office.

“Then lock them up, like any sane place would do!”

“Well, this is the Capitol.”

Sejanus stopped walking up and down on the heavy rug in front of Coriolanus’ desk. “What did you say?”

“Nothing. Can you leave me alone? Do what you want, you can play house-husband. But I have important work to do here…” Coriolanus got up and ushered the protesting Sejanus out. 

“Your office is obnoxious, by the way!” Sejanus yelled through the door, then left.

Coriolanus put it on his to-do-list for next month to somehow make it even grander then. He wasn't about to let Sejanus win this marriage; he was a Snow and snow lands on top.

Chapter Text

8. A Winter Solstice, a Roof on Fire and a Stupid Tradition

December

The meeting room was stuffy, but they couldn't open a window because of the cold. Coriolanus had been sitting next to Ms. Lux for two hours now, someone constantly babbling until someone else started arguing, then everyone was yelling and all of this was because they couldn't figure out where to put a statue in a park; to the right of the fountain, or to the left? 

Big decisions were going on in the Capitol, to say the least.

This was the last meeting Ms. Lux (and thus Coriolanus) had to attend that day. And since he had finished all the speeches for this month and the next and he also read through the dozens of contracts Ms. Lux had asked him to, he was told to go home at twelve. He refused at first, insisting that the District One ambassador find him something to do, but she was very stern and played the husband card. She did that every time Coriolanus annoyed her. She told him that he cannot live at his work and that he has a husband at home and if the magazines are true then they are hopelessly in love, so ,,go home, Mr. Snow-Plinth, please, not even President Ravinstill cares this much about his work.”

After the dreadful meeting finally ended (the statue would go in front of the fountain), Coriolanus was glad of the crisp, cold air that greeted him outside. The taxi he ordered was waiting.

But just as he opened the door, Coriolanus saw a tiny, curly-haired figure approach. He couldn't decide if Festus Creed was generally unfortunate looking, or if simply Sejanus was the only person in Panem who looked good with curly hair. Or perhaps Festus was so insanely insufferable that it ruined anything positive about him.

“Coryo! Long time no see!” Festus finally reached him, shaking his hand, patting him on the shoulder. Yes, it was definitely the third option. And he was a shameless liar as well; they met in October at Coriolanus’ wedding.

“Don't call me that.”

“Right, it's Mr. Snow-Plinth now. It's a bit funny.”

Coriolanus glanced at the open taxi door. “This has been delightful but—”

“Oh, I don't mind!” Festus sat in the car then looked expectantly at Coriolanus. He sighed and got in as well. The chauffeur began driving.

“So, Coryo,” Festus continued. “I'm holding this party in honor of the Winter Solstice. On the 24th. It's going to be huge; everyone who matters will be there. Consider this my formal invitation.”

“Aha. Sure. We'll consider it.” Coriolanus just wanted Festus gone, he hoped if he nodded along, he would get out.

“No, you misunderstand me, the invitation only applies to you. You know we all like Sejanus but... what did you use to say? Something about a turnip and a ballgown.”

Coriolanus conspicuously looked out the window. Right. Turnip and the ballgown. In retrospect, it may have been a mistake to call the mother of the man you were going to marry a turnip.

Festus babbled on. “Not much merit there, you know, just a bank account.”

Coriolanus wanted to rip off Festus’ head and chuck it out the windshield. For some reason he felt offended on Sejanus’ behalf. Or maybe even his own. How could Festus say that one of the richest men in Panem was not important enough to go to his stupid party? Sejanus had every right to go, if he wanted to. But who would want to go to idiotic Festus's idiotic party?

“Oh, the 24th!” Coriolanus hit himself on the forehead. “I forgot, I'm busy that day.”

“Really?” Festus gaped at him.

“Yes. We are holding a grand gala, actually. I'm sure your little gathering will be delightful but I cannot attend. You can come to ours though, if you have the time.” Coriolanus flashed his sweetest smile then looked out the window. They were still miles away from the Snow-Plinth manor. He knocked on the glass separating the chauffeur. He pulled it down.

“Thank you, can you stop here?”

The driver stopped, Coriolanus shoved some money at him, probably way more than needed, but he just wanted to escape Festus.

When he arrived home, his new shoes worn down by the dirt of the city air and ground, he went to find Sejanus before anything else. But Sejanus wasn't anywhere in his side of the house, nor in the garden, and looking into his calendar offered no help to Coriolanus either. In a last effort he descended the stairs to the kitchen, hoping that the people down there knew something. Maybe they kidnapped Sejanus to hold him for ransom?

“Excuse me,” Coriolanus called out once he entered the kitchen. No sign of a kidnapped Sejanus. It was a room as big as a salon upstairs, with lines of counters and stoves and a big table in the middle.

The cook barely looked up from the newspaper she was reading. “Yes? Oh, Mr. Snow. What are you doing here? Anything wrong with the menu for the week?”

“No, I want to know where uh... my husband may have gone.” Calling him ‘Sejanus’ in front of the help was undignified, calling him ‘Mr. Plinth’ too formal. And also, technically his name was Plinth-Snow.

“He hadn't gone anywhere odd, Mr. Snow, as far as I know. He left in the morning, he should be back around three as usual.”

“Right. Goodbye.” Coriolanus hurried up, taking the steps two at a time. Of course, Sejanus would be at the office of his charity. But since on most days Coriolanus arrived home at five, he wouldn't know when Sejanus got back. He had two hours until three, whatever should he do? 

Coriolanus quickly managed to occupy himself, he remembered the box of things sitting in his office that he brought from the old flat where he lived with Tigris and Grandma'am. He wanted to sort through it for weeks, but couldn't find the time between the tasks Ms. Lux dumped on him, for which he was glad, really, but honestly, could the woman be a bit less enthusiastic? But when he asked for more work, she blew him off. She was a conundrum. But a useful one.

In the box Coriolanus found a weathered collection of fairy tales, with a castle on the cover; its windows sporting beautiful, colourful glass panes. He remembered that his mother used to read from this.

Coriolanus glanced at the window behind his desk. It was circular. He did promise Sejanus to make the space even grander. And what could be grander than a window with a red rose in it made from glass? Coriolanus didn't know who to call to arrange that, but as soon as he found out, he would. 

As he continued to sort through the junk, he stumbled upon an old picture book that described traditions people did around this time of year, from before Panem came to be. There were pictures of great trees adorned with lights; he had always adored those. Since after the war they never had any money to properly decorate for the Winter Solstice, but now he had the means to. Coriolanus made some urgent calls, then spent the whole afternoon ordering people around, trying to find the best composition for the string lights in the salons and halls and living rooms and outside as well, so that it would seem like the snow itself is glittering. It ended up looking like the roof caught fire.

Sejanus arrived in the middle of this. He had walked two miles from the nearest trolley stop because he did not see the use for a car if the public transport took him to a street away from the office. It was one of his many unexplainable quirks, like the Avox one, or the disdain for that bear-skin throw rug, which, in retrospect, Coriolanus was glad that Sejanus refused to let into his house, because it would have been quite tacky, and Coriolanus Snow was anything but tacky.

Sejanus watched as the leaf-detailed iron gates closed behind him, put his hands in his pockets (Coriolanus was somehow sure that even in this wintery weather his hands were warm), and walked up the driveway, only to stop in his tracks once one of the workers turned on the lights to see if Coriolanus nods approvingly or shakes his head.

“You're determined to drive up those electricity bills, huh?” Sejanus commented. “I didn't know you were one for festivities.”

“Just the lights.” Coriolanus looked over at Sejanus. The lights reflected in his eyes, gleaming little golden dots peppered in them, like New Year's sparkles against the night sky. And Coriolanus’ theory before Festus started harassing him proved right, the locks of hair sticking out from under Sejanus’ ridiculous beanie hat were delightful. Coriolanus momentarily lost his mind and grabbed a strand of hair, pulled it until it was straight, then let it bounce back. Sejanus, though raised his eyebrows in probably deep concern for Coriolanus’ mental wellbeing, let him.

“Sorry, but it looked stupid.”

“Sure. So, we're setting the roof on fire?”

“Well they aren't meant to be this bright. But I'll deal with it later. Let's go inside, I want to talk to you about something.”

“Oh no, the last time you wanted to do that we got married.”

“Not funny.”

Sejanus rolled his eyes. Coriolanus followed him through the front door as he put down his coat and winter boots, then to his own wing of the mansion, watched him intently as Sejanus made himself a cup of hot tea (why didn't he ask the cook?), then when Sejanus finally leaned against a counter and looked at him, waiting, Coriolanus told him about his misadventure with Festus Creed. Well, most of it. Not the turnip part. At least not all of it.

“He called my mother a turnip? Well, it's creative at least. But what's the point of this story? Because it's not like you to share your day with me.”

“Is that something you want me to do?”

“Not particularly, no. Tell me when you're president, you know. Are you interested in my charity?”

“Would you be surprised if I said yes?” Coriolanus knew he needed to butter up Sejanus before he agreed to host a big gala and invite people he did not like. And intimacy always worked with him, so he thought he could show some curiosity towards Sejanus’ orphans.

“Very.”

“Then tell me. What's with the orphans?”

“Still orphans. It's really hard to convince anyone that it's a good idea to adopt a kid who's going to die in a few years. Of course, I understand, if you want a kid, then you want them for your whole life. Not just for a while, only for them to leave and leave you heartbroken. It's no fun when someone you love leaves.” Sejanus stared into his tea. Then his head perked up and he had on that ‘I'm going to change the world’ smile, the one Coriolanus last saw five years ago when Sejanus had talked about becoming a medic. His face lit up, his large doe-eyes were gleaming. “But I've got an idea. One I think you might like as well.”

Coriolanus raised his eyebrows. There has never been any idea of Sejanus's that he had liked. Going into the arena to sprinkle breadcrumbs on his dead ex-classmate? Bad idea. Working together with rebels in Twelve? Downright horrible idea. 

“People are nicer around the holidays, right? So what if we organise a party or gala or something. For charity. You invite all the people you want to rub elbows with, charm them, give them all your business cards and I get their money and build orphanages.”

Of course Sejanus would want to build orphanages. But for once his idea was actually genius, it fit into Coriolanus's plans perfectly.

“But what did you want to tell me?” Sejanus asked after Coriolanus enthusiastically agreed to his plan. “Could you give me that towel? Thanks.” Coriolanus handed it to him, because Sejanus was washing his cup and then putting it back in its place. When there were a dozen employed here, getting paid to do this!

“After Festus said you're not invited to his party I told him that you couldn't attend anyway because we are having a grand gala that day.”

“Oh, sticking up for my honor? How noble. You're a real knight in shining armor.”

“Haha.”

“You're right, more like some stuck-up prince who gets eaten by the dragon before the real hero shows up.”

“I'll take the knight,” Coriolanus frowned. At least he wasn't the damsel in distress, though certainly his tale of marriage had some Cinderella elements to it.

“If Festus is holding a party…” Sejanus thought out loud, “...and he has been organising for months, inviting people… then why would anyone come to our last minute gala?”

“Because everyone with a brain would much rather go to a Snow-Plinth party than a Creed one. First of all, we're double the prestige, second of all, we're double the money—”

“I'm double the money,” Sejanus interjected, crossing his arms.

“Fine, you're double the money and we are at least triple the looks, if not more, and third of all, Festus is insufferable.”

“Pretty solid reasoning,” Sejanus nodded. “So, when do we start planning?”

*

The look on Festus Creed's face was worth all the trouble organising this gala had meant. Every single person he had invited called minutes before his pitiful party started to cancel, some even admitting where they were going instead.

“Congratulations, I hope you feel better about yourself,” Festus said to Coriolanus. “What did you gain with this?”

“Festus, why would I purposefully steal your guests? The worthy simply decided this was a better place to be. This has been in the works for months, do you think we could just whip up a charity gala in a week?”

“With your control-freak nature and your district brat of a husband's money? Yes, absolutely. Now if you excuse me I'll go eat you out of your fortune, Coryo.” Festus hit him in the chest and left.

“I wouldn't have let that slide,” a voice next to him said. It was the friend of Sejanus whose talk of a family dinner started all this. Her name was Venus, Coriolanus had found out only tonight. She had met Sejanus during their studies which she was still continuing, her goal was to become a surgeon. Of course Sejanus would befriend someone like her.

“I'm a Snow, we don't murder people in front of an audience.”

“Only behind closed doors?”

“Preferably,” he smiled at Venus, then went to chat with all the important guests who chose his party. It was indefinitely better than whatever Festus had mustered up, they had a stage and a live band, a firework show planned for later and luxury food that could feed dozens for weeks. And because Sejanus was Sejanus, it probably will; whatever won’t get eaten and doesn't go bad, will go to the pitiful poor people in the outer rings of the Capitol.

At eight Sejanus took over the microphone from the lead singer (who reminded Coriolanus uncomfortably of a certain other singing girl) to give a speech. He started with the usual holiday clichés, then veered into the section Coriolanus just called “the orphans are dying please help them it's very sad” section when Sejanus had asked him to look over what he had written. Coriolanus had gladly accepted, happy that his skills finally got the recognition they deserve from Sejanus as well.

“...and it would make the biggest difference, if during this holiday season you would help out these unfortunate souls, with whatever you can. Thank you, and have a merry Winter Solstice!”

The guests clapped with way more fervour than Coriolanus had anticipated. Sejanus seemed to be surprised as well. When he got off the stage he stepped next to Coriolanus. A photographer appeared, shot a few candid pictures, then went on her way. 

“I didn't expect them to even listen to me, honestly.” Sejanus swirled his drink. “It seems like the only time they don't care about dying children is in the Games.”

“Your orphans are Capitol children, not district rebels, I'm sure that changes things.”

“I am not going to argue about this with you tonight, you can't ruin this for me.” That wasn't Coriolanus’ intention, he was just making an observation.

“I wasn't trying to. Good speech, by the way. And even better delivery. I saw some people tearing up.” Sejanus was disgustingly kind, of course they would be crying.

“Great. Hopefully they translate those tears into banknotes. At least they'll be useful for the first time in their lives.”

“Mr. Snow! Mr. Plinth!” a delighted voice said.

“Ms. Lux, welcome. How do you like the party?” Sejanus asked politely. Coriolanus was surprised Sejanus knew the name of the woman he was working for. Coriolanus couldn't have named anyone at Sejanus’ charity. Maybe he should try to remember their names?

“Oh, it's splendid,” Ms. Lux clapped. “And that speech was really moving, I already donated.”

“Thank you,” Sejanus said and nudged Coriolanus in the side as if to say “See, I told you it would work”. 

“Mr. Snow, can we talk in private for a bit?”

“Of course, what is it?” Coriolanus asked as Ms. Lux led him away to an emptier corner.

“I received a call from President Ravinstill's personal assistant this afternoon. Due to some… recent changes in the economy, her workload had doubled, and she had met you at a meeting before. Not just any meeting, the one with the statue and the fountain.”

Coriolanus shuddered. That meeting would be immortalised as a life-long trauma for many.

“Yes, exactly. And she thinks if you could manage that, you could help her out. And who knows, maybe it'd be full time after a while. I would hate to see you go, Mr. Snow, but this is a great opportunity for you.”

Working under President Ravinstill, being his personal assistant… only a few steps to becoming vice president from there. And by the time the elections roll around, well… 

Coriolanus smiled brightly. “Thank you Ms. Lux, really. I don't know how to thank you.” He fervently shaked the woman's ring-adorned hands.

“You only have yourself to thank, it's your glory. I merely gave you a stage to achieve it.”

“And I shall be eternally grateful.” Coriolanus had to remember to give her something nice when he became president. Much to his dismay this list of people was ever-growing. Luckily the Plinth fortune was also ever-growing. 

When he met with Sejanus again, he still had a smile on his face.

“What happened?”

“I am to work for President Ravinstill himself.”

“That's great,” Sejanus said. “Hope you use your power for good.”

“When have I not?” Coriolanus knew Sejanus was being really, really nice when he didn't start listing things and just rolled his eyes.

“Oh, look up!” someone from the crowd said. Coriolanus didn't know if it was meant for him, but instinctively he and Sejanus both raised their heads. From the top of the archway they were standing under, hang a handful of green leaves and white berries, neatly tied with a sparkling bow.

The famed mistletoe. It was another old, pre-Panem tradition that somehow lived on because people thought it was funny or endearing. Coriolanus found it neither of those things.

But people were demanding a kiss and since technically they were married and ,,absolutely in love”, according to every magazine, what possible excuse could they have? Coriolanus hoped that after the wedding he would never again be subjected to such horrors as the memories that came up when kissing Sejanus caused him, but alas. His night was going too well anyway, a successful gala, Festus’ jealousy, a promotion… naturally it had to take a left turn.

It could be worse, Coriolanus thought at last, before eagerly slinging his arms around Sejanus’ neck and pressing his mouth to his. Sejanus surprisingly did not hesitate to wrap his arms around Coriolanus’ waist and lean into the kiss. One of Sejanus’ hands moved to cup his cheek and Coriolanus almost forgot he wasn't supposed to be enjoying this and he felt strangely hollow after they seperated.

He just hoped it was worth it and he would see it grace the front cover of every single gossip paper tomorrow.

*

Very unlike them, Coriolanus and Sejanus were having breakfast together the next morning. Coriolanus was putting magazines and papers in a neat line, ordering them by most entertaining headline and worst photo; in both cases the Weekly Witness won. Sejanus was busy looking at the charity bank account, muttering things such as “Oh I'll build so many orphanages from this” and “Or maybe even a hospital?” and “No, a research hospital!” until he finally decided on three orphanages and two research hospitals.

“You were right, they really did grow nicer for the holidays.”

“Yes, human sympathy is usually quite easy to prey on,” Sejanus nodded, still looking at the bank statements. Coriolanus for some reason felt like this was a jab directed at him, but he wouldn't let it ruin such a pleasant morning. It was hard to try and be mad at Sejanus when Coriolanus just became assistant to the president. Besides, Sejanus was practically glowing, already making plans, all of which would mean more time he would spend away from Coriolanus. What more could he ask for?

Chapter Text

9. “Sejanus, the Only Flag Redder is that of Panem”

February

Working for the president was more time and energy consuming than Coriolanus had predicted. Ever since his son's death five years ago, Ravinstill was only there physically, his assistant did everything. But with the threat of an economic crisis (something about District 10 crops and summer heat), she needed someone to handle the less pressing matters.

It turned out that when you're running a country, ‘less pressing matters’ are quite high stakes as well, so Coriolanus was actually glad to have a valid reason to skip a Friday. Sejanus of course had to complain about this as well, because the second research hospital was to be opened that day and he wanted to be there.

“Just push it to next week,” Coriolanus suggested over breakfast. This had become a habit of theirs over the last month, discussing work in the mornings. It was the only thing they could talk about without disagreeing, because even Academy anecdotes would usually end with the Games, and nobody wanted to mention that over scrambled eggs. 

“But it's done; it should open so it can be put to good use. Ah, I'll just ask Cybele to read my speech. She's much more equipped anyway.”

“Who is Cybele? Wasn't your friend named Venus?”

“I have multiple friends. Cybele was the head-surgeon in the hospital I support so they would treat kids cheaper. She'll be head of the research hospitals now.”

“Have I met her?”

“She was at the wedding.”

“Oh.”

Sejanus rolled his eyes, then glanced at the table-calendar on the counter. It had Friday marked with a sad smiley face. They were both dreading the event.

“Why would anyone marry Festus Creed?” Sejanus mused.

“Money,” Coriolanus said, not looking up from the gossip paper he was perusing. This had also become a habit of his, seeing the ridiculous things they said about him or him and Sejanus. When more than one wrote about the same thing, he liked to rank them based on most over the top headline and worst photo on the cover. Usually the Weekly Witness won, but the GossiPanem (what a ridiculous name!) was always close behind. 

“There's not enough money in this world that would make me marry Festus, he’s awful.”

“You say I'm awful and yet you married me.” Coriolanus acknowledged that he would also have not married Festus, even if he had ten times the fortune the Plinths had, which meant that somehow Sejanus’s person was a point he considered in September when creating his master-plan.

“Festus is annoying. That's worse,” Sejanus continued. 

“Maybe his bride is as annoying as him and they found each other.” Coriolanus certainly felt like this in his marriage. Sejanus and his disgusting kindness would drive anyone else insane, but Coriolanus had been subjected to this since he was a child; he learnt to accept some traits of Sejanus and find use in him nonetheless.

*

Ever since the Winter Solstice incident, Festus had made it his mission to one-up Coriolanus. His wedding had to be at a bigger, more expensive venue with more guests and a taller cake. But Coriolanus knew that if his wedding was held now, people would still leave Festus’s.

The ceremony was supposed to be held at a grand park, but it had started raining, thus they moved it inside an auditorium in the hotel where the guests would stay after the dinner and party. Coriolanus hated getting driven home in the dark where he couldn't see the chauffeur or the outside, who knew who was lurking there, trying to sabotage him? Sejanus told him he was being paranoid and this is just like the time in fifth grade when Coriolanus refused to attend a class-trip because three months ago someone had broken into the to-be-visited museum at night. And Coriolanus was dead-set on the robbers still hiding inside, waiting to kill eleven year olds. But just like back then, Sejanus accepted without much protest, thus they were to stay in the hotel.

The ceremony was boring, the couple uninteresting and unattractive, the food bland. It must have cost a small fortune, but it was tasteless. Or perhaps Coriolanus had grown so used to the breakfast Sejanus insisted he made only for himself (though why he always put out two plates then, he couldn't answer) and the dinner that their cook prepared, that whatever the fancy chef Festus had hired created paled in comparison.

Another downside of the party was the number of old-classmates present. Though he had nothing to hide from them anymore, Coriolanus realised he's still not interested in talking to them. He did, naturally, because etiquette demanded it, but he hated every minute of it. Sejanus of course, being from the districts and thus not expected to hold up such values, was free from all this. Coriolanus desperately wished he could do that, before he realised that he just wished he could be more like Sejanus Plinth, which was certainly not anyone would aspire to be.

“I had a class with the girl in university,” Livia Cardew continued her tangent Coriolanus was barely paying attention to. “She used to be prettier back then. This is a really unflattering dress. And she could use a nose-job.” She was, of course, talking about the happy bride, who was standing within earshot.

“She seems nice,” Coriolanus said diplomatically. There was nothing remarkable about the girl, nothing worth commenting on, neither in a positive nor negative way. She had greenish eyes, but they were so dark they seemed brown, but she hadn't long enough lashes for them to be like Sejanus’ doe-eyes; her wavy hairdo was clearly the work of a curling iron, and not even a good one; though Coriolanus had to admit that ever since being subjected to the sight of Sejanus every day he became more susceptible to fake-curls, having seen such a great example of the real thing.

“Coryo!” Livia snapped her fingers in front of his face. “I asked you a question.”

He shook his head. “Please repeat it?”

“I asked, what's your end goal?”

“What, in life? Or today?”

“With your scam-marriage. Because I don't believe it, you know. I think it's a sham.”

“What sham? You were there, saw us sign the papers, there was a registrar…”

“I meant that the feelings you proclaimed to everyone at the party are not real. I don't believe that you, of all people, would marry a district. There must be some ulterior motive behind it.”

“What would I need? I have money, a name, a position…” He had a name, that was true. And now money as well. And a position was close to follow.

“I don't know, but it's suspicious. You never liked him in the Academy.” He never disliked Sejanus either, he was indifferent towards him.

“People change.”

“But not this much. And I just can't see what you would see in him.”

“Lots of things.” His bank account, mainly. Though he did make for great eye-candy at parties as well. That's two things now.

“Such as?” Oh, Livia was really pushing it. If she continues, she will be pushed. Out a window. In a tragic accident. Coriolanus could probably arrange it.

“I don't have to justify my choices to anyone, especially not you. Why don't you enjoy the party instead? I'm sure the bride would like to hear your opinions on her facial features.” With that, Coriolanus left.

He wanted to find Sejanus and tell him that actually, he can survive driving at night once, provided Sejanus attacks anyone who tries to kill him; if he can throw around chairs he can do that as well. Coriolanus had enough of this party, this crowd, he wanted to go home.

He found Sejanus, but he seemed deep in discussion with Venus, who, as Coriolanus had found out after their arrival, was here as a plus-one to Lysistrata Vickers. That's why she was at the birthday party months ago as well. Coriolanus didn't know why someone would date someone who is friends with Sejanus Plinth, but then again, he married Sejanus Plinth, so who was he to talk?

He approached them with the intent to interrupt, but then he heard his name.

“I don't trust Coriolanus. He's slimy.”

“Slimy... Venus, you don't describe a person as ‘slimy’,” Sejanus pinched the bridge of his nose.

“But he looks slimy. Don't you see that self-satisfied grin on his face? Besides, if that wasn't enough, we know he's not above cheating.”

Oh, of course Sejanus would have told every single detail of that summer to Venus, except Coriolanus's role in him almost dying.

“No, that was…”

“Why are you defending him? Sejanus, the only flag redder than him is that of Panem! He had a girlfriend yet he kissed you.” Yes, why was Sejanus defending him? Coriolanus didn't understand. There were few things one could put on his list of mistakes or missteps, but that incident could certainly be twisted into one.

“And I kissed him back knowing he had a girlfriend, a very sweet girlfriend, whom I did not want to cause any harm.”

“That's different, you've been crushing on the guy since you were fourteen. It would have been stupid to pass up the opportunity,” Venus fretted.

“Why are you defending me?”

“Because you're my friend?”

“Well, he was my friend as well. And that kiss didn't matter anyway, he just felt guilty about killing me.” No he didn't. Did he? Coriolanus shook his head as if that would chase the thought away.

“What?” Venus asked in a sharp tone.

Sejanus froze. “What?”

“What do you mean ‘killing’ you? Sejanus, what happened that summer?” 

“What? Oh, is that the time…” Sejanus said, looking at his nonexistent watch.

“Sejanus!”

“Fine.” Sejanus looked around to see if anyone was nearby. Fortunately he did not notice Coriolanus who had since hidden behind a pillar. “They found out I conspired with the rebels by a jabberjay recording that Coriolanus had made and sent.” That was blunt and it hurt like a knife in his back. Sure, it was the truth, but must Sejanus put it so… simply? Surely he knew that Coriolanus feared for his own life as well and that he didn't think they would hurt Sejanus… He had to know, right? 

“Coryo!” Sejanus crying out as he was being dragged to the gallows flashed before Coriolanus's eyes. That was a cry of anger, of desperation, of hate, not a cry for help. All Sejanus knew was how and with whose help the information got to the Citadel. Not why.

“And you married him?!” Venus yelled. Sejanus scrambled to put his palm against her mouth.

“Don't start screaming!” he said in a hushed tone and removed his hand. “Yes, I married him.”

“After all that?! For what?!”

“What do you think, Venus? Because of his name, nothing but his name!”

“I knew it. I knew it, I knew it the moment I saw you together at the wedding, but I didn't want to tell you and ruin your day, but now I can and I'll gut your dear husband!”

It seemed like the mindless murderer wasn't lurking in the dark of the night, but the well-lit auditorium of a grand hotel. And given how she was the same height as Coriolanus (he had to thank childhood malnutrition for that), even taller with her heels, he couldn't fully disregard the threat.

Fortunately Venus didn't know her would-be victim was so close, so she hurried away in big strides, leaving Sejanus alone. Coriolanus waited a minute, then he walked up to him as if he just arrived.

“What happened? You look awful.”

“Nothing. Argument with Venus.”

“Can we go home? I'm bored, and I know everyone here, no need to hand out business cards.” Coriolanus realised that some jokes at his own expense would help now.

“No, I'm too angry to drive.”

“See this is why we have a chauffeur,” Coriolanus frowned.

“Can't the man have a Friday off once in a while?”

“This is why not,” Coriolanus pointed out.

“You can drive, if you want to leave so urgently.”

Long before Coriolanus had reached the age people started driving they were too poor to afford it. And after he got a chauffeur he felt no need to learn such a thing. Sejanus must have seen this on his face, because he let out a resigned sigh.

“Just… go to our room then. I'll tell people you had some urgent assistant of the president thing to see to.”

“Thank you,” Coriolanus smiled and sneaked out of the auditorium.

He jumped out of the elevator on the third floor before the doors even fully opened. He slid the keycard into the door lock and in a matter of seconds he kicked off his shoes and threw himself into one of the big plush fauteuils in front of the TV and turned it on.

On the news channel was talk of an upcoming warm front and how that would impact District 11. He switched channels until he decided to settle on some mind numbing soap opera in which the grandmother of the family was currently kidnapping a man who wanted to marry the ex-wife of her grandson while the new girlfriend of the grandson was pregnant. Or something like that, it was hard to make out the plot without seeing the previous two hundred episodes. But it was exactly the background noise Coriolanus needed to forget about the talk with Livia and the conversation he overheard. And here he was, thinking Sejanus might dislike him a bit less as of late; he never complained about the shared breakfasts, he always listened to his annoyances concerning President Ravinstill's other assistant, he put on a smile when it was needed…

Coriolanus didn't know that apparently he himself was someone Sejanus put on an act in front of. Or maybe he said that to calm Venus down? She seemed quite determined to commit murder, and as Sejanus was famously against violence, Coriolanus wouldn't have put it past him to try and lessen the blow. It didn't work, but at least he tried.

*

Sejanus arrived a bit past midnight. He loudly shut the bathroom door behind himself and he stood under the shower for a good thirty minutes before he emerged. 

“I'll go to sleep,” he announced. Coriolanus nodded in the faint glow of the TV. The soap opera was still going on, the ex-husband of the new girlfriend of another one of the grandmother’s grandchildren just stabbed himself and made it seem like the aforementioned grandchild did it. Coriolanus was embarrassingly invested now. This is what people like Festus Creed and Livia Cardew did to him, made him susceptible to such lowly forms of entertainment… he was so entranced that he only heard Sejanus call his name the third time.

“Coriolanus, would you listen?”

“Yes?”

“I hope you don't snore because there's just one bed. And no sofa in here either.”

“You snore. Heard it in the barracks.”

“I've never snored. And there were half a dozen of us in there, how did you know it was me?”

“I just knew.”

“But you couldn't, because I don't snore,” Sejanus insisted.

Oh but he did. And he hogged the blanket. And flailed his arms around, hitting Coriolanus in the face. By the time he fell asleep, it was well past two in the morning. He was having a nice, dreamless sleep, so obviously Sejanus had to ruin it. 

He started by turning over with such fervent that he kicked Coriolanus in the shin, then he threw his arm on his face again and when Coriolanus fretted it away Sejanus hit his hand away as if it was at least a leper, then the incomprehensible sleep talking started, then the sleep screaming which was just the cherry on the top. Honestly, Coriolanus thought, if he's going to have nightmares then why can't he do it quietly? I have them every second week and I'm not such a wimp… 

Coriolanus sat up and shook Sejanus by the shoulders. “Come on, wake up, I want to go to sleep…!” he muttered. It seemed to have worked, because Sejanus opened his eyes, sprang up and headbutted Coriolanus in the process.

As Coriolanus rubbed his forehead, thinking of the nasty bruise that will no doubt form on it by morning, he noticed Sejanus clawing at his neck and breathing heavily. Coriolanus wondered if Sejanus dreamt about his almost bitter end every night and he just didn't know about it because they slept in different rooms, or if the conversation with Venus had brought it on. Either way, he looked miserable, eyes wide with panic, T-shirt drenched in sweat (because it goes without saying that Sejanus couldn’t even have a proper set of pyjamas, he slept in old T-shirts and a boxer like some commoner).

Coriolanus clumsily patted him on the shoulder.

“You're not helping,” Sejanus muttered. “Ah fuck.” He buried his face in his hands.

“Be careful, your mother might hear you.”

“Not funny,” Sejanus said, barely audible, but he was breathing normally now. “Did I hit you in the head?”

“And the leg. But only a little.”

“Sorry. I didn't mean to.” Classic Sejanus, apologising for things he did in his sleep. Coriolanus didn't apologise for things he did while awake if he felt he had been in the right (which was every time), and Sejanus was doing it for a thing he had no control over.

“The uh… soap opera is probably still going, if you don't want to go back to sleep,” Coriolanus suggested. It was a stupid thing to say, but what else could he do?

“No, I'm fine. I was just… caught a bit off guard. It hasn't been this bad in a while.”

“What exactly did you…” Coriolanus cut himself off. He knew, why was he asking?

“It's like I'm there again. The excruciatingly slow walk up there, the tightening rope, and I'm staring at you, and then they pull the lever and I feel like I can't breath and suddenly I'm seeing myself from outside, just a lifeless ragdoll swinging there, and you are still there, sometimes emotionless, sometimes smiling, sometimes sobbing and every version I try to call out but I can't,” Sejanus blurted out in one go.

“Oh, that's… that… It sounds horrific.”

“Sometimes I dream we're back in the arena and you cannot save me. My brain confuses the two memories and ruins the one with the less terrible ending,” he laughed dryly. Coriolanus furrowed his brows. He dreamt about the arena sometimes as well, various iterations of it. Some of it was similar to Sejanus’ nightmares, in some of them Sejanus got out but he didn't, in some Bobbin killed one or both of them, in some Coriolanus dreamt about attacking Bobbin with the board and when he delivered the last strike, the fatal one, Bobbin turned into Sejanus and Coriolanus couldn't stop himself and he would hear the stupid jabberjays cry out in Sejanus’ voice. But he couldn't say all this, could he? The last time he felt like this about Sejanus, not knowing how to say things, he had chosen the worst possible route to go, and enjoyed it he may have; Coriolanus will not make such mistakes again. Instead he just put his hand on Sejanus’ shoulder in a gesture he hoped seemed supportive so that everyone could go back to sleep.

Sejanus frowned, looking as though he was about to start crying and then he slumped against Coriolanus. It seemed quite counteractive to do so, given how he blamed the elements of his nightmares on him, but Coriolanus had learnt long ago that one just shouldn't question Sejanus Plinth, it took much less energy to just accept him as he was.

“It's okay,” Coriolanus said, cringing at the cliché. It was far from okay, this situation was strange and he wanted to get out of it, but his body wouldn't move. He wrapped his arms around Sejanus. The things he did for a few hours of sleep! In a way this was just like telling people what they wanted to hear to win their favour. 

So when they lay down, Sejanus’ head against Coriolanus’ chest, his arms clamping the side of his shirt, he didn't say a thing; he was doing this to gain an advantage. And if anyone asked how his fingers found themselves playing with Sejanus’ hair, his other hand stroking his back, well, that was for an even more important advantage.

*

Since the mutual “Good morning” before scrambling out of bed, wide-eyed, shocked, maybe even a bit disappointed in themselves for what happened, they haven't said a word. It was Sejanus who finally broke the silence only when they rolled into their driveway and he stopped the car.

“For both our sake's let's not talk about Festus Creed’s wedding ever again,” Sejanus said, not talking about the wedding.

“It was an embarrassing affair, for everyone involved,” Coriolanus agreed, not talking about the wedding.

Chapter Text

10. Coriolanus Snow vs. Sejanus's First Evil Ex: Also Coriolanus Snow

March

The door reverberated after Max, President Ravinstill's — up until two minutes ago — assistant shut it. Her screaming could still be heard floors below, then out on the street as well; the window was open. It all happened so quickly. The accountant entering with the ominous purple folder, Max opening it, glancing at the first page, shouting various insults at the accountant and then rushing out, yelling that she quits.

Coriolanus was elbowing on the windowsill, watching as she got into her car and speeded off. The accountant was still standing by the door.

“What was in that folder?” Coriolanus asked.

“No idea. I was just told to deliver it and not look, or else. So before I get into trouble… good day to you, Mr. Snow.” With that, he left. Coriolanus didn't even bother to correct his name, he already had the folder in hand. Removing the front cover, he could see what may have angered Max, who otherwise had been a very calm and collected woman; she needed that, working for the president who at times acted like a stubborn teenager, not understanding what's good for him and Panem. Soon after being employed here, Coriolanus learnt that without the two assistants running everything, the country would have crumbled. And now it seemed like it was down to one.

Coriolanus put the folder back as it was after looking through it. Just more and more grisly pictures of a heavily knocked about man whom he had recognised as Max's husband from a gala a few weeks back. On the last page was a message stitched together with letters cut out of a newspaper. A very unoriginal idea, but not surprising since an absolutely insane individual must have sent this. The message read: YOU'RE MOST WELCOME. V.

Whatever this was, Coriolanus had no wish to get in the middle of it. It was not his business what enemies Max had gathered, he had enough of his own. There was a man from the public relations office who had it out for him ever since he came here, not to mention the intern girl who was up for a promotion before Ms. Lux swooped in and got him in. And also of course, the enemy at home, his one and only husband, who did not take it kindly that Coriolanus is working for the president who according to Sejanus is responsible for everything wrong in Panem.

*

“What on earth was that this morning? With Maxima.” Coriolanus was waiting for the elevator with Caria, who was also working for the government but in a much less important position that Coriolanus could not bother to remember.

“I don't know. But it's not our business.”

Caria had been trying to strike up conversation with him for months. According to Max it was because she was ‘smitten with him’ and she ‘has a thing for married men’. Whatever the reason, Coriolanus couldn't afford a public scandal not even half a year into his perfectly convenient marriage. Maybe after a decade, he will long be president by then. But he would probably be too busy to run the country. Even busier than now.

An affair was off the table also because Coriolanus was sure that poor, sensitive Sejanus would take it to heart, even if he disliked Coriolanus. On the other hand, Coriolanus wouldn't have wanted Sejanus to have a sex scandal either, how would that look for him? Coriolanus Snow married a flagrant, who could have known? It was bad enough that Sejanus was rapidly housing and curing orphans, gaining much more media attention than Coriolanus. A scandal would only damage his barely existent image. Also, Caria was exasperating, and not in the slightly endearing way that Sejanus was.

As if Sejanus could sense that Coriolanus praised him in his thoughts today, he ruined it all by the time he got home. Coriolanus went to find Sejanus to brag — no, to inform him about how he had become the sole right hand man of the president. Sejanus was sitting in his living room with a half-empty bottle of posca, looking as miserable as ever.

“What, did the orphanage burn down?”

“Shut up.” Sejanus slowly blinked. “I had an awful day, I don't need you being cynical as well.”

“Please tell me, the most charitable man in all of Panem, what ruined your day?” Coriolanus carefully placed his coat over an armchair’s back alongside his vest. Sejanus's jacket he had seen in a pile somewhere near the front door. He sat down on Sejanus's left side, a respectful distance.

“Don't sit here. I'm mad at you as well.” Sejanus reached for the posca. 

“Didn't know you monopolized the couch.” Coriolanus cautiously pulled the bottle further. If he would be forced to listen to Sejanus's whining, he needed some of it. Uncharacteristic for a bearer of the respectable Snow name, he drank straight out of the bottle. He didn't even know why he was listening, he owed Sejanus nothing. But he had such a good day, he could afford some pleasantries, right? As the story went on did the posca disappear.

“Cybele has been stealing funds since even before the hospitals opened,” Sejanus blurted out. “I put her in charge and she… she saw it as nothing more than a money making scheme!”

“Stealing from sick orphans is a new low,” Coriolanus frowned. Even district rebels wouldn't do that, he gathered. They loved their children, hated to see them die in the arena every year.

“And when I confronted her about it, she laughed and said I shouldn't be surprised. And that I was stupid for believing even for a second that this would work out.”

“Not stupid per se… just naïve,” Coriolanus tried to lighten the blow. As always, Sejanus had good intentions but he forgot that the world he presented these intentions to wasn't.

“So now my father is breathing down on my neck because everything I do is a failure. He didn't like that I compensated the missing funds from my own money.”

“It's your money, you blow it on whatever you like,” Coriolanus shrugged and took another sip of the bottle. He was feeling a bit lightheaded.

Sejanus stared at him silently for a bit. Maybe he was drunk and spacing out, or contemplating whether to continue with his story. He decided on the latter.

“I met Venus for lunch and she told me I'm going to die alone because of my sham marriage…” Coriolanus wasn't at all surprised that Sejanus knew that he was eavesdropping last month. Sejanus had told him before that he had watched him watch people, this wasn't any different.

“...and even if I know she means well, that is not what one likes to hear from his best friend,” Sejanus continued. No, certainly not. Coriolanus remembered how supportive Sejanus had been of his pursuit of Lucy Gray in District Twelve. Even after he got his face punched in. Coriolanus absentmindedly licked the scar on his lip.

Sejanus reached out and ran his thumb over Coriolanus’ lip. “You still have the scar from the Hob.”

“Yes,” Coriolanus stated the obvious, because nothing smarter came to mind at the moment. The posca was getting to his head. The only thing he could focus on was Sejanus's hand on his face. It burned. “I hoped it would fade, but…”

“Trust me, that lip's working for you.”

Due to his lack of judgement courtesy of the posca, or perhaps he was being possessed again, for he wouldn't do such a foolish thing on his own, Coriolanus lunged forward, pressing his lips to Sejanus's. Sejanus's wide-eyed surprise lasted only for a moment, then his hands were on the back of Coriolanus's neck, pulling him closer. Coriolanus turned towards him with his full body and flung his leg on the sofa, bending it, practically entrapping Sejanus and urging him to move closer. 

His hands have been uselessly sitting in his lap but now he put them to good use. He slid his fingers into Sejanus's hair, earning himself a barely audible whine. Sejanus was a marvellously good kisser, and the thought that he had to learn this somewhere made Coriolanus seethe with jealousy. He had heard Venus at the wedding; Sejanus used to have a crush on him, why would he kiss anyone else then? Not that Coriolanus wanted to kiss him specifically, why would he want that? 

Coriolanus could pretend that it was not Sejanus Plinth he was kissing but it did not work. He was acutely aware that the hands on his waist were Sejanus's and what's worse, he wanted them to be Sejanus's. But this had nothing to do with him as a person, it just had to be because Coriolanus was drunk and Sejanus was an objectively attractive man, because what would it mean if he wanted to kiss him and touch him despite his personality and beliefs and general Sejanusness? 

Coriolanus was surprised that Sejanus was even letting him do this. But Sejanus seemed to have gotten over his moral dilemma about his alleged disdain for Coriolanus because the fingers trailing up and down his spine were very eager, sending shivers through his whole body, and not the kind he felt when cold. This was pleasant and he wanted more.

He pushed against Sejanus, eventually getting him to lie down. Coriolanus was perched atop him, Sejanus's hands on his hips. 

Coriolanus was afraid to ruin whatever this was, so he quickly leaned down again and captured Sejanus's lips with his own. The kisses grew more intense, their teeth clanging against each other a few times, which made Sejanus chuckle.

“You're beautiful,” Sejanus murmured between kisses. Coriolanus wanted to retort with something, deny the adjective he didn't like, but maybe, perhaps, just this once, he didn't mind it. He wanted to tell Sejanus a joking “You're not so bad yourself”, but all coherent thoughts left his brain when Sejanus's soft lips began trailing kisses down his neck. His tie had been long discarded, so he only needed to tilt his head a little to give better access. This however seemed to be an awkward angle for Sejanus, having to crane his neck continuously, so he wrapped his arms tightly around Coriolanus's torso and flipped them. 

Coriolanus was lying on his back now, Sejanus looking at him from above, the glow of the ceiling lamp casting a golden circle around his perfect curls. Coriolanus had nothing at all and at the same time too many thoughts racing in his head to properly process just how easily Sejanus had manhandled him. Or that he didn't mind it. He wrapped his arms around Sejanus's shoulders, letting him fumble with the ornate buttons of his shirt. Well, if Sejanus got to do that then it was only fair for Coriolanus to tug on Sejanus's shirt until he could slide his hands under it to find a not at all surprisingly muscled back; he had seen it on the beach in District 4 already and it was a recurring topic in dreams he did not ask for.

“Sejanus.” Sejanus was too busy placing feather light kisses all over his exposed chest to hear it.

“Sejanus.” Coriolanus pulled him away by his hair. “Isn't this couch too small?”

“Maybe,” Sejanus said, a little hesitant. 

The posca was still working strong, because in any other case Coriolanus would have seen this as a sign from the universe to stop this madness at once, but he wasn't really himself now, or at least he didn't believe so.

But whatever doubts Sejanus had evaporated and soon they were stumbling up the stairs, hands on each other, lips only stopping every once in a while so they could breathe. Coriolanus was fairly sure that the second time he pushed Sejanus against a wall and tried to remove his shirt (the logistics of this wasn't the best, but he had more pressing things to worry about, such as Sejanus sabotaging and distracting him with pressing kisses all over his face) he had knocked down a priceless painting or two. It was a miracle he managed to turn the doorknob, really.

*

The ceiling of Sejanus's bedroom was plain white. Nothing decorative around the chandelier, no fresco, no nothing.

Coriolanus's head was laid on Sejanus's chest, his heartbeat a steady rhythm. Sejanus was stroking his back along the old scar from when a flaming piece of the arena fell on him. Coriolanus had always found it unfortunate that it remained, it ruined his otherwise flawless appearance. But Sejanus didn't seem to mind it.

Coriolanus reached out and interlocked their fingers, Sejanus's hand warming his own.

“Coryo,” Sejanus said absentmindedly, now running his fingers through Coriolanus' hair, something he would never let anyone do.

“Hm?”

“Whatever happened with you and Lucy Gray?”

“Lucy Gray and I had some inconsolable differences.” Why was he bringing that up? Coriolanus was too posca drunk and tired to think about that now.

Sejanus laughed. “You tried to kill her as well, didn't you?” Sejanus was so out of it, he will not remember any of this tomorrow, so Coriolanus just nodded.

“Why do you keep hurting the people who care about you?” Sejanus's fingers stopped combing through his hair as he looked down at Coriolanus, seeming genuinely worried.

“They don't care. No one does. But they will, once I am someone.”

“You were already someone. To me, at least. I practically adored you from the day you decided you'd not join the others bullying me.”

“But I didn't stop them either.” Sejanus was being too nice again and that kind of thinking got him into every life-threatening situation he had been in. If it was up to Coriolanus, that will never happen again. When he married Sejanus not only did he get the bank account, but also a big-eyed, 1.90 meters tall stubborn problem with a knack for running head first into danger, because he knew Coriolanus would be there to save him. Even after last time. Even after it had almost cost him his life. The man was a mystery Coriolanus didn't intend to solve right now.

“You had to think of yourself as well,” Sejanus continued, as if he didn't know that Coriolanus thinking of himself was what almost got him killed. Coriolanus let go of Sejanus's hand and hugged him tightly instead. Sejanus didn't object and wrapped his arms around Coriolanus after pulling the blanket on them.

For the first time in his life Coriolanus had something good that he felt he didn't deserve. He hadn't done anything to change Sejanus's view of him. And yet here he was. Why?

And more importantly, why did he feel awful?

Chapter Text

11. Dr. Gaul Remembers the Child She Used to Manipulate

Coriolanus woke up with the feeling that something was about to happen. At first he didn't know where he was, the ceiling and the surrounding furniture were unfamiliar. Then he heard the snoring.

Sejanus was lying on his stomach, sprawled out on two-thirds of the bed, his left arm stretched out over Coriolanus. Coriolanus, not fully awake yet, had the urge to roll closer to Sejanus and go back to sleep, not caring about what would come next, just appreciate the present that he was sure of, that Sejanus was there, warm and solid, and he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

But he did not indulge in these embarrassing daydreams for long. Coriolanus carefully removed Sejanus's arm and got up. He pulled on some of his clothes and gathered the rest from the carpet (Really, what was he thinking, throwing such finely made materials on the floor?) and headed for the door as quietly as he could.

“Don't be a jerk, stay here,” Sejanus said. Coriolanus startled. When did he wake up?

“We live in the same house, you can't escape me for long anyway,” Sejanus continued. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. He had pillow lines on his face and nail marks on his back. Well, Coriolanus was never drinking again. This situation was becoming more and more embarrassing as it went on.

“I could if I wanted to,” he said. And he planned to.

“But what if instead of that we had a normal breakfast?”

Well, Coriolanus couldn't say no to breakfast.

Coriolanus was busy filling his plate with fried eggs for a second time and Sejanus was trying to get the last molecules of the apricot jam out of the jar to put on his toast. If one hadn't an idea who they were or what their history was, they could say this was a morning of domestic bliss. However, the feeling of something not being right hadn't left Coriolanus and he was getting increasingly worried. His memories of last night were a little blurry, he only remembered the details concerning their slightly belated wedding night, not the conversation after they had before falling asleep. But surely if he had said anything he shouldn't have, Sejanus would have brought it up already? 

Coriolanus only had to think of such a thing, because suddenly Sejanus's buttering knife stopped midair, the jam slowly sliding down onto the counter.

“You tried to kill Lucy Gray.”

Coriolanus didn’t say anything, which was as good as a confession in Sejanus's book. He looked at him with a raised eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.

“She attacked me first with a snake. It bit me, I was lucky it wasn't venomous.”

“Coriolanus if the snake wasn't venomous then how could she have tried to attack you?” 

…really, how? That has never occured to Coriolanus before. 

“You're actually deranged,” Sejanus said, his big eyes even wider. “Something's wrong with your head, you hear me?”

“It was a completely valid assumption.” Lucy Gray was friends with snakes, Lucy Gray betrayed him and ran away, Lucy Gray sent her snake after him. It made complete sense, no? 

But the snake couldn't have killed him.

“No, it's insane,” Sejanus insisted.

“Why do you care about something that happened years ago? You didn't seem to mind what I did that summer against you last night!”

“Well last night I was not yet aware of your thirst for blood! You couldn't kill me, you thought you'd try with the other person who loved you?!”

“You weren't even my friend!” Coriolanus was shouting now. Sejanus was just staring at him with the most disheartened look on his face. Long gone was the man who had kissed him so eagerly yesterday, replaced with someone who looked at him as a murderer.

“Just… leave. Please. Go back to your side of the house. You were right, it's best to avoid each other.”

“Fine. But I'm leaving because I want to, not because you told me to.”

“Naturally.” Sejanus crossed his arms. For a brief moment Coriolanus wished he was back in time a few hours, back when those arms were around him.

But as always, Sejanus had to ruin everything. Coriolanus grabbed the rest of his breakfast and stomped through the archway.

“That's my plate!” Sejanus called after him.

Coriolanus leaned back into the kitchen for a moment and threw the plate with the half-eaten eggs on it inside. It shattered against the stone floor. “Here, have your stupid fucking plate!” Coriolanus was aware that he was behaving like a child, but if Sejanus was being immature then he could answer with a similar attitude.

“That plate was my grandmother’s you asshole!” Sejanus yelled, his voice echoing as Coriolanus hurried across the mansion.

He had heard about the dangers of premarital sex, but no one had ever warned him about the problems postmarital sex could cause.

*

When the car stopped near the employee entrance of the Presidential Palace, Coriolanus had absolutely no will to go inside and spend a day guiding Ravinstill through running a country or having to make small talk with people he couldn't care less for, especially with the pounding headache he had. He instructed the chauffeur to drive on, into the city centre. He got out next to a shiny new shop front, the sign above the frilly pink awning proudly declaring that this was the White Rose Fashion Salon. Not very creative, but in her defense, Tigris had to come up with a name in two days; Coriolanus forgot to tell her he was getting her her own salon in the busiest, richest quarter where everyone who mattered spent their days. Tigris's designs were immaculate and the salon quickly grew to immense popularity.

But as he looked inside through the display window, Coriolanus saw no one inside. It was strange. He went to the door and saw the sign ‘on a lunch break, check back after 1 p.m.!’, written in Tigris's curly letters.

Coriolanus looked at his watch. It was nearly twelve. Just how late did he wake up? Nevertheless, he entered the shop, knowing that Tigris would welcome him. It had been weeks since he last visited her, he had been busy with work. But now he needed someone who would reassure him that he's in the right and Sejanus was wrong. Because he was, there was no doubt about that.

“We're closed!” Tigris's voice called from the back of the salon.

“It's just me.”

“Oh, Coryo!” Coriolanus heard the scraping of a chair on the floor, the clatter of a fork and then Tigris was standing before him. “What brings you here? I thought you got lost in the maze of paperwork. I'm so glad to see you!”

“Can't I just visit my favourite cousin?” Coriolanus smiled and hugged her.

“Have you eaten lunch yet? I'll bring you something—”

“No need, I woke up late, I just had breakfast.”

“You? Waking up late?” Tigris jokingly touched his forehead. “Do you have a fever?”

After reassuring her that this was a one-time event, they sat down on a comfortable settee near the changing rooms. Tigris recounted what had happened with her these past weeks and Coriolanus listened patiently, if not attentively. He had his own things to worry about, and they were certainly more pressing issues than Tigris having met a fashion photographer and being unsure whether to wait for him to ask her out, or if she should.

“Coryo, I can tell you're thinking of something else,” she suddenly switched topics. “Is everything all right?”

“Obviously not,” he said, and regretted it immediately. He didn't mean for it to sound so accusing, why would Tigris be suddenly able to see through his façade?

“Something happened with Sejanus?” her eyebrows took on a worried angle.

“How do you know?”

“I can't imagine you of all people having work related troubles and other than that you… how do I put it… you don't really have much else going on.”

“Sejanus is being an idiot.”

“Oh I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding.”

“No. Well, he is misunderstanding everything, and refuses to listen. As always.”

“According to your wedding toast you like his stubbornness.” Right, he had said something along those lines.

“Not when it's directed at me!”

“Coryo, if you managed to work out your differences about whatever happened in District 12 so well that you got married, then I'm sure—”

“But that's just it, we never did!” Tigris's well-intentioned support and kindness struck something in Coriolanus. He was tired, awfully tired of having to play a role in front of everyone but Sejanus. Of course it was Sejanus again; where did he go so wrong in his life that Sejanus Plinth was somehow the only person who truly knew him? Not even Tigris, his own cousin, was exempt from the web of lies.

“What do you mean by that?” she asked, wringing her hands. Her knuckles cracked with a nauseating sound. But before Coriolanus could think of a good lie to answer Tigris's question, the bell above the salon's entrance rang. The newcomer searched the room with her eyes until she found them. Tigris was just about to tell her they're closed, when the stranger stepped in front of Coriolanus, handed him an envelope, then left, just as quickly as she had come. Coriolanus looked after her. She was familiar, but he couldn't place her.

“Coryo.” Tigris said, demanding an explanation for his outburst.

“Just a second…” he opened up the letter.

Dear Mr. Snow,

I believe that the true worth of one's mind shines most when on the rare occasion it is mistaken, it admits to it if needed. 

So this is me, admitting that I may have lost hope in you too soon. But I was closely following your work in the past months, and I have to say: I am delightfully impressed. The country had never run as smoothly as it has since you joined the court of President Ravinstill's puppet masters. I want to see how you operate alone, but I shall be hopeful; a mind like mine should trust itself. And it tells me to trust you, Mr. Snow. 

Don't disappoint me,

Dr. Volumnia Gaul

The messenger had been Dr. Gaul's assistant even back then. For some reason Coriolanus thought her assistants were expendable, with all the accidents and sacrifices that came with science.

“Coryo!” Tigris waved her hand in front of his face. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head. “What were you saying about that photographer?”

“No. You do not get to do this, not anymore. I know I used to put up with your gift for evading questions because I had a dozen other things to worry about, but that ends now. What did you mean by ‘you never worked out your differences’?”

“Nothing. I misspoke.”

“Coriolanus Snow doesn't misspeak. Don't lie to me, Coryo. If something is going on, tell me. I want to help.” Tigris looked at him, worry creasing her forehead. She still saw Coriolanus as her little nephew in need of guidance and that made him irritated. He was someone now, he didn't need her fussing over him! But he also had no idea what to tell her other than the truth. It was Tigris after all, she adored him, what could go wrong?

*

“You did what?!” Tigris was going up and down between the clothing racks, twisting a pale blonde lock around her finger, almost ripping it out. “Why would you do that? That poor girl, how scared she must have felt…”

“Don't take her side!”

“Side? Coryo, there are no sides here, you shot at that girl like some maniac, because you convinced yourself she had it out against you! Not to mention the jabberjay! What were you thinking?”

“That his father would bail him out. And I was right.” He was right, nothing happened to Sejanus, he was alive and well! Except the nightmares and the scars and the general air of sadness that sometimes was almost visible around him. But other than that…!

“You almost killed that poor boy and then you tricked him into a sham marriage!” Tigris continued her tirade.

“It's a marriage of convenience, we both benefit! I don't know what your problem is. It got you a salon.”

“Oh, the salon. My salon is from the money of a boy who barely escaped death because of you. I can't have this. It's wrong.”

“Tigris, Sejanus has nothing against you, he likes you. This has nothing to do with you. This is about me. And Sejanus being in the wrong again.”

“Coryo, please leave. I cannot deal with this right now. I don't even know what to say.”

“Are you mad at me?” Coriolanus was baffled. How could Tigris be mad at him for something that happened years ago and had no real consequence and had nothing to do with her?

“I'm not mad, Coryo. Just disappointed. I thought I had raised you better than this.”

“My father would agree with me.”

“Your father would be let down that you didn’t kill them.”

Well wasn't that the worst thing Coriolanus had heard in his whole life?

His father would be let down by him.

*

April

After that fateful breakfast, Coriolanus and Sejanus avoided each other as much as they could. There was a whole week where they didn't see each other once; it was probably the best week of their marriage. 

Sejanus was busy with his orphans and hospitals, having taken over everything, not trusting anyone else after Cybele had meddled with the funds. He had also set up a new charity, something to do with homelessness, which Coriolanus was glad of. It always ruined his mornings when he had to see all those miserable wretches on the streets. Never mind that the Snows had been this close to being put right next to them, had Sejanus and his overblown marriage problem not come along.

But recently all his previous usefulness vanished. From here on out Sejanus used every minute they were forced to spend together to try getting on Coriolanus's nerves as much as he could. It started with returning his mother's rose-engraved ring with a small smile and a “I look at it and think of you and I dislike you so you have it”, then after Strabo Plinth's repeated strong suggestions, he hired Avoxes and gave them a salary and treated them like any other employee and he was extremely proud of having twisted his father's words. People on their believed moral high-ground always were so proud of their accomplishments. Coriolanus didn't understand why he would pay criminals. He was stunned for a second when he found out one of the women's crime was prostitution, because it made him think of Tigris, but that thought made him uncomfortable so he stopped pondering what exactly did these people commit to deserve this.

But the most aggravating thing Sejanus did was remind Coriolanus why he was attacking him in the first place.

Coriolanus thought that having known Sejanus since he was eight gave him a sort of immunity to his antics, but all of that shattered when during one of their car rides to a mandatory public appearance Sejanus started humming.

At first it was annoying, because he did not have an ear for music whatsoever, but after Coriolanus recognised the melody and told Sejanus to stop this at once, Sejanus started muttering the lyrics as well. Coriolanus spent thirty minutes in that car listening to ,,Are you, are you, coming to the tree”, trying not to bang his head against the window just to make the memories flooding his brain go away. Sejanus was fully aware of this, because on the way back, in a sick and twisted plan, quite uncharacteristic of him, he hummed what seemed to be the ultimate Lucy Gray mixtape. How he remembered any of the girl’s songs was not a mystery Coriolanus cared to solve.

“Stop it! Stop it, stop it, stop it!”

“What, it's a catchy song,” Sejanus shrugged, then leaned his head against the window and continued mumbling the most sarcastic rendition of Pure As The Driven Snow ever performed. And, well, it was driving Coriolanus Snow mad.

* 

It was a sunny spring day, but Coriolanus did not see much of it. He had been burrowed in his office at home for days, rewording a legislation that President Ravinstill signed without consulting him first. Even when he had specifically told him that he shouldn't do that.

Coriolanus tried to get himself an assistant, because there was a reason that previously two people had been working on these matters, but to no avail. Even if there was an applicant (and Coriolanus would have taken on anyone who was able to type just a bit faster than a snail), they quickly changed their minds. Most likely to Dr. Gaul's meddling, though Coriolanus couldn't be sure. He realised of course that poor Maxima's husband had been brutalised due to the professor ‘making way’ for Coriolanus to prove himself to her, and while he appreciated that she still saw the potential in him, he wasn't as sure about Maxima's husband's fate being necessary. 

Coriolanus had been waiting for another letter from Dr. Gaul, but so far nothing. He didn't know what else to do, Panem functioning and not being dragged into another rebellion was a sign that he was doing his job splendidly.

What else did she want from him? Does he need to discover another traitor and send a bird about it? Or was that what ruined his chances at the professor's mentorship the first time? Perhaps somewhere, deep down, really, really deep down Volumnia Gaul had a tiny, blackened, barely working heart and she thought damning your best friend to the gallows was not very nice?

Coriolanus furrowed his brows. No, Dr. Gaul wouldn't think like that. She dropped a barrel of killer snakes on children, she was probably delighted by the bird and awfully devastated when Sejanus got away. Coriolanus wouldn’t say he got away scot free per se, because back in March he had lots of time to inspect Sejanus and there were definitely remnants of that unfortunate August day; from the badly healed rope burn on his neck, through the scar above his eyebrow, to the nightmares… Even in such a situation Coriolanus was reminded every second of that day. 

A knock on the door snapped him out of contemplation. It was the butler with the afternoon post. Sejanus thought it ridiculous to have one, with only two people living here, two people perfectly capable of organising any event that befell them, but Coriolanus was insistent. A butler was more of a status symbol than a staff member; it showed that Coriolanus now had enough money to hire someone to bring him his letters and to send away unwelcome guests from the door.

He filed through the letters, each less interesting than the previous one. And nothing from Dr. Gaul. Advertisements, an invite to a party he won't attend, Sejanus's therapy bill because he couldn't suck it up and deal with his problems like a grown man, like Coriolanus would do, more invites, a letter from Grandma'am, a letter to Sejanus from Vorenia, the woman he met in District 4.

Coriolanus opened the envelope without hesitation, he had a right to know what kind of suspicious people Sejanus was associating himself with.

When he finished scanning the completely mundane, friendly letter, he felt a bit bad. Maybe he overreacted. This letter shouldn't have even been in this pile, the butler was doing a lousy job of sorting the post. Coriolanus tucked the letter back in the envelope and closed it, hoping Sejanus wouldn't see it had been opened; he didn't need to give him another reason to be overly emotional about.

Just as he was about to immerse himself in work again, the doorknob turned and the butler entered again.

“I am very sorry sir, there was a letter that I hadn't noticed. It arrived after the others, hand-delivered.” He placed the envelope on the table, apologised again, then left.

Coriolanus's smile grew bigger and bigger with each new word of the letter read:

Dear Mr. Snow,

If you are interested in running more than just government from the background, unacknowledged, unappreciated and would like a place where you talent can shine and contribute to the greatest feat our mighty city has ever invented, I advise you to see me in two weeks time. I expect you still know your way to the Citadel.

Dr. Volumnia Gaul

Chapter Text

12. Coriolanus Hates Nature so He Makes It Worse for Everyone

May

“Another day as evil advisor to President Ravinstill?” Sejanus asked when they accidentally met by the front door. Coriolanus frowned. He had on a brand new, blood-red coat and he spent the last thirty minutes combing his hair back, trying to keep it straight. And now Sejanus had the nerve to insult him? It was an impeccable outfit; when Coriolanus stood in front of the mirror he saw his father looking back at him for a moment.

“Actually, no,” he said. Why waste his time arguing with Sejanus? Didn't he have dying children to save?

“Then? Planning to take over Panem today?” Not today, no.

“I am meeting with Dr. Gaul,” Coriolanus smiled. He didn't say more, as even he himself could only guess what exactly the woman wanted from him. He had ideas, but he would know for sure when he arrived at the Citadel.

Sejanus blinked at him, that disappointed look in his eyes that Coriolanus was beginning to know too well. He didn't like that, he liked it when Sejanus adored him and thought of him as a friend. Or well, as Venus had revealed, when he was head over heels in love with him. Sure, Venus may have used the word ‘crush’, but Coriolanus felt that was not a grand enough thing to feel for someone of his magnificence. He was special.

“…I think I'll go now,” Sejanus said, and to demonstrate that he is going, he put on the nearest coat he hung on the rack by the door like some commoner. It was a winter coat, much too warm for May. Sejanus reminded Coriolanus of a deer in the headlights now, frozen, then trying to jump away.

Sejanus continued muttering. “I need to help some children if you plan on murdering twenty-three more.”

“They’re the ones murdering each other!” Coriolanus yelled after him. Sejanus looked back from the gate and shook his head, but didn't say a word. Of course he didn't, Coriolanus thought, because he knows I'm right. 

*

Coriolanus hailed a taxi (because the chauffeur had a Sejanus approved vacation day today) and minutes later he was traipsing up the familiar white stairs of the Citadel. The guards at the door didn't even ask questions, they let him through as if they were expecting him.

He remembered the way to Dr. Gaul's lab, the shelves lined with horrifying creatures floating in liquids, strange contraptions thrown around, the faint growl of mutts from somewhere deeper in the building… Coriolanus never liked being here, he always felt like one of Dr. Gaul’s projects.

The woman herself was sitting at her desk, looking up at him expectantly with her two-coloured eyes.

“Congratulations on your marriage, Mr. Snow and I am delighted you accepted my offer,” Dr. Gaul smiled, slightly condescending.

“It's Snow-Plinth now, but of course I accepted, it was one I couldn't refuse.” Coriolanus wasn't sure what the offer was, but he knew he should take it.

“Mr…. Snow-Plinth, if that is what you wish, I simply offer that tomorrow when my Gamemakers and I start planning the details of this year’s Hunger Games, you join us. You have a creative mind and quick thinking, which is a skill missing from nearly all the people I have to make this work with.”

“What brought on this sudden generosity?” Coriolanus inquired.

“Why, but I have said in my first letter! Did you not read it?” Dr. Gaul shook her head like a disapproving parent. “I admit I made a mistake all those years ago. You are a very useful young man. A great mind with great resources.” So it was about the Plinth money. Coriolanus had an ill feeling in his stomach, and not because of his breakfast. Something felt slimy about using Sejanus's money for the Games, a thing he publicly disapproved of. Difference of opinion or not, Coriolanus wasn't a monster, he respected that about Sejanus, that he stood for his beliefs and never wavered, even if he was wrong. It showed a strong character and Coriolanus was intelligent enough to appreciate that. And who knows, maybe given enough time and some nudging in the right direction by Coriolanus, Sejanus could one day change his mind and use that stubbornness for good. Coriolanus found that impossible event so funny that he laughed out loud while Dr. Gaul was monologuing. If Sejanus Plinth ever agrees with him on anything, Coriolanus will know one of them has gone crazy.

“What is so funny, Mr. Snow?”

“Snow-Plinth. Nothing. Please, continue.”

 Dr. Gaul waved her hand. It seemed like she could take a bit of an insult if she got Coriolanus. “And you proved capable of running the country from behind the scenes, alone now at last,” she continued. “Who knows, you might take the torch over from me one day.”

Now Coriolanus could finally be sure that the “you're welcome” note signed with a ‘V’ that had chased Maxima away, leaving him the sole right hand man of the president really was Gaul's handiwork. Of course she would nearly kill a man to get Coriolanus to work with her. After the jabberjay incident she must think he is as insane as her. But it wasn't Coriolanus growing mutts in test tubes, was it?

“It would be an honour to work with you again, Dr. Gaul,” Coriolanus said, his voice laden with sweet, syrupy, fake humility.

“I am glad to hear it. I expect to see you here tomorrow at eight o'clock sharp, with ideas already laid out. You're sure it won't interfere with your work as President Ravinstill's right hand man?”

“I'll manage.” What's a double shift, when one shift is governing a country from the background and the other is planning the Hunger Games? 

As Coriolanus was leaving the Citadel, more determined than ever, one thought crept into his mind:

Sejanus will kill him when he finds out he's working with Dr. Gaul again.

*

Coriolanus was sitting at a round table listening to a dozen Gamemakers list the problems that cropped up every year. Refusal to kill, running away, not knowing where anyone is, boring tributes… Things that could be read about during and after the Games in every ill-disposed gossip paper.

Coriolanus was only half paying attention. This was their second week of just talking and not actually doing anything; he was getting bored.

Obviously when he had told Sejanus where he was going, it caused the opposite reaction he expected. Coriolanus really thought Sejanus would have calmed down by now. The Hunger Games wasn't going anywhere, not after the success of the Tenth (despite Sejanus's sorry attempt at a sabotage that almost cost him and Coriolanus their lives) that they were trying to replicate ever since. Sejanus, unoriginal as usual, called him a monster and hasn't talked to him since, hasn't even looked his way. This morning when he heard Coriolanus coming down the stairs he rather closed his door and stayed inside until he had left.

“Mr. Snow, are you listening?” the man next to him snapped his fingers.

“Why wouldn't I be?” Coriolanus frowned at him. What an assumption! Just because he spent the last twenty minutes staring blankly into space…!

“So what do you suggest then?” the Gamemaker pressed.

“Leave Mr. Snow alone,” Dr. Gaul interrupted. “I think this was enough for this morning, let's have a fifteen minute break. We all have plenty to think about and I need my milk and crackers. Goodbye.” She said this ‘goodbye’ with a tone that signalled that if they don't leave in the next thirty seconds she will offer them to whatever mutts she was feeding this afternoon.

“Ah, not you, Mr. Snow,” she called. Of course not, why would she let him leave? As much as Coriolanus genuinely appreciated Dr. Gaul's genius, work ethic and world-view, some part of him was still creeped out by her. Something about her aura was wrong. Something wasn't right and Coriolanus couldn't place it. He had no choice but to be on high-alert every time he was in her vicinity, to pay attention to every single detail. It was tiring, having to do this day after day for weeks, for the next two months. 

Coriolanus remembered the weeks after the Winter Solstice party, where no matter how angry his colleagues or Ravinstill had made him during the day, the thought of going home and complaining about it to Sejanus who would dutifully listen, comforted him. Sometimes it even brought an unwanted smile to his face, and when someone asked what’s he thinking about, he could say “my husband” and for once it was the truth. 

But no more of that now: Sejanus hasn't talked to Coriolanus in two weeks and even before that their communication had been minimal, only what was necessary.

“Snow-Plinth,” he corrected mindlessly.

“Mr. Snow-Plinth. Anything that caught your attention today?” Dr. Gaul asked.

Coriolanus had to spend fifteen minutes with Sejanus this morning. It was raining, and because Sejanus didn't want to take a seperate car (environmental conservationism and whatnot), he forced Coriolanus to share. And of course he couldn't sit in the front with the chauffeur because “the man's owed his privacy, he doesn't need to see his boss’ face from the corner of his eye.” 

So instead Coriolanus had to stare at Sejanus and of course listen to his humming; he was still on about Lucy Gray.

All Coriolanus could pay attention to since that damned car ride was how unjust Sejanus was to him. Really, he got childishly emotional and sensitive about something that happened five years ago, something that had nothing to do with him, something that was perfectly reasonable to do; and somehow Coriolanus was the one to suffer for it? Like he was the one who wronged someone? Maybe if Sejanus stopped being so self-righteous for a moment he could see that Lucy Gray was not who he had known her to be. She was a threat, a danger and the snake just proved that. ,,...if the snake wasn't venomous then how could she have tried to attack you?” What did Sejanus know about snakes? Maybe it was venomous, it just didn't work on Coriolanus! That forest had been brimming with creatures more awful than the last, who knew what lurked there?

“Lots of things caught my attention,” Coriolanus replied to Dr. Gaul. He did listen to some of the Gamemakers, but no one said anything new. The Games were still dealing with the same problems.

Coriolanus pictured the arena in his head. It had been fixed after the 10th Games, it stood in all its glory now, with a new roof and no secret tunnels anymore. He could almost see it: the twenty-four luckless children realise there's nowhere to hide and after a few days start stabbing and hitting, then Dr. Gaul lets loose some mutts, ending it in a week at maximum. That's how the last four games went, and despite the Victory Tour, Capitol citizens were losing interest again, and if they were losing interest that meant no money.

“Dr. Gaul, I'm going to be honest—”

“Oh, a first, Mr. Snow-Plinth. Can't we stick to Snow? Snow-Plinth doesn't exactly roll off the tongue.”

“No. It's Snow-Plinth.” For Coriolanus, the Plinth name equaled the lowly evildoers who stole his family's fortune, and the boy whose kindness almost ruined all his plans; but for everyone else, it just meant money. And Coriolanus needed to signal that now that money was his, and he had the power that came with it.

“Continue with your honesty then, Mr. Snow-Plinth.”

“The last four games have been the same, beat-to-beat. You could predict it days ahead. And why watch something you know the ending of?”

“What do you suggest?”

“We change the arena.”

“To what?”

“Don't you have an army of Gamemakers?” Coriolanus scoffed. Was he the Head Gamemaker or Dr. Gaul? “The arena right now is nothing more than an empty field. But the world offers so many interesting places,” he said in a tone that signalled that he was superior to Dr. Gaul because he had ventured outside the Capitol and the better districts, unlike most people he knew. Coriolanus thought again of the forests in District 12, and how much he hated every minute trekking through the trees. He wondered...

“We could make it a forest. Countless sources of natural danger there, not to mention the tributes and your mutts.”

“That would take a lot of money, Mr. Snow-Plinth.”

“Let the people pay for it; advertise it as a brand new, original, never-before-seen arena, to pique their curiosity. And if that's still not enough…” Sejanus already hated him, what's one more reason? What mattered is that Coriolanus got ahead. “I suppose I could help out for the greater cause if necessary.” Anything to get somewhere. He needed his name to be known, and not just in the gossip-papers. He'll be lucky if Sejanus doesn't refuse to breathe the same air as him if he discovers how Coriolanus planned to use his money, but he needed to do this, for his own sake, for his family's sake, for the sake of his father's memory. Crassus Snow's son cannot be a nobody, forgotten in history. If his name is not in textbooks in a few decades, what was it all for?

“Just one problem with the forest,” Dr. Gaul said, thinking out loud. “We already cannot keep track of the tributes in the current arena, and there are barely any hiding spots there. But a forest… Our citizens would be watching the bushes for days, because we can't find the children.”

“Hm.” Coriolanus crossed his arms. His eyes were darting around the lab, hoping inspiration would strike him. He noticed a stack of broken drones in the corner. They had been a good idea in theory, if they managed to track down the tributes and not hit the wall or a pillar.

Oh. Track down the tributes.

“Put trackers in them.”

“What?”

“Isn't that how scientists know where the animals they're observing in the wild are? With trackers? I'm sure the same could work for the tributes. And then they can't hide from the audience anymore.”

“I knew it was a good idea to bring you on, Mr. Snow-Plinth. It was truly one of my greatest ideas,” Dr. Gaul said, a crazed but proud smile on her face.

*

When Coriolanus got home he heard the tune of Capitol News. He himself barely watched it; being in the president's inner circle he knew that 99% of it was a lie, the rest were only true by accident. But if there was one person in this city who would rather die than watch it, it was Sejanus. He once said that he wouldn't even believe them if they said the sky was blue (which had some truth to it, Lucky Flickerman had a habit of making up the weather).

His curiosity piqued, he sneaked to the doorway of Sejanus’ living room. Sejanus was sitting on the sofa, his eyes glued to the television, on the screen of which Dr. Gaul was speaking about this year's Games. Coriolanus remembered an old saying he read somewhere, a saying from before Panem. The devil works fast, but something works faster. Well, Dr. Gaul worked faster than anyone Coriolanus had ever met. She described the ‘exciting new arena’ and now started on the ‘surefire way’ of not losing sight of the tributes.

“You can stop lurking,” Sejanus said.

“I wasn't lurking.” Coriolanus walked inside and leaned against the side of the sofa. This was the first time in days Sejanus had spoken to him, and of course it had to be a jab and of course it had to happen in this wretched living room.

“...and thanks to my bright, young associate,” Dr. Gaul continued on the TV, “one Mr. Coriolanus Snow…-Plinth,” she said that last word with visible disdain, “I can confidently say that with trackers in the tributes, we will know where they are at all times, not missing any thrilling events.”

“Trackers, Coriolanus?! Trackers?! You're putting trackers in children you send to die!?” Sejanus turned off the TV, having heard enough.

“How did you even know about the interview?” Did Dr. Gaul somehow inform him to make life harder for Coriolanus? Did she do it to get on Sejanus's nerves? She couldn't do that, that was Coriolanus's job.

“I received an ominous message at work that told me to turn on the news at six. I wonder who it was from,” he said in a tone that would have deserved an eye roll. So Dr. Gaul hasn't gotten any less insane in the past five years, Coriolanus thought, good to know.

“I'm just doing my job,” Coriolanus argued.

“It's disgusting. This whole thing makes me want to puke. The Games, Dr. Gaul, you willingly participating… I am disgusted by you as a person. Do you not have a heart?” Sejanus did look disgusted and on the verge of tears. Typical.

“I was told to solve the Games’ problems and I did.” It sounded defensive, but what could Coriolanus do when his debate partner failed to see logic and decide based on his emotions? This is why they got married, no? Because it was logical.

“The Games are the problem,” Sejanus said. He crossed the room, bumped Coriolanus in the shoulder on his way out, but he stopped two steps into the hallway.

“Wait a second, this is my living room; you get out of here.”

Coriolanus found it useless to continue arguing, so he did as he was told. What did it matter to him that Sejanus was against the Games? He was wrong. He had been wrong all those years ago as well, he was wrong now. What did he want Coriolanus to do? Go to the president and tell him that punishing the enemy is bad? They won the war, they had every right to do so.

A memory crept into Coriolanus's mind. A dusty classroom. Dr. Gaul going on about Marcus. Sejanus arguing with her. Winning a war doesn’t give you that right. Having more weapons doesn’t give you that right. Nothing does.

Why must Sejanus be so difficult? Can't he just accept that this is how it is and how it’s always going to be and focus on getting ahead in the world that exists, not on trying to make a world that doesn't and cannot? Coriolanus certainly managed to do so, why can't Sejanus as well? If he stepped off from his moral high ground for one second…

Then again, what Sejanus thought or felt was none of Coriolanus's business.

So why was he thinking about it so much lately?