Work Text:
Snow was not a simple man but he had simple pleasures.
Profiting from the winners of the games was one of them.
He thought the two lovers were cute, a simple tale to sway the hearts of the capitol. Not Snow for he has never been a fan of love stories. At least not for a long while. Love is an awful feeling and not easy to control. Snow has always been a fan of that, controlling the hearts of those weaker than him. It was an easy task to do over the years after much practice.
That is why those who were twisting out of the grip of the capital needed a simple push in the right direction or simply, the direction that benefits Snow. It’s why Tigris had to be pushed down to the lowest of shops, far away from everyone. Settled in a corner where everyone was slowly forgetting her. She was getting less and less friendly towards Snow and challenging his authority. Tigris was one of the few people who still had a pull on Snow’s heart, so that wouldn’t do at all. No one could have his heart, so she needed to be dealt with. It would have been easy to kill her, but that would have been wasteful. Her talents will be best suited elsewhere, where she could never bother Snow again.
Anyways, love has its appeal, he can see why the capital was easily pulled by it, but not him.
Never Snow.
There is something unsettling about the lovers, Katniss and Peeta. Something familiar. The name Katniss alone caught his attention and the mockingjay costume was quite ridiculous to be fair. A mockingjay, those annoying little whistling creatures that still roam the District 12 areas after so many years. Why would anyone find that captivating?
Though, this is a show after all. There needs to be some sort of entertainment. So he allowed it, the odd spectacle and declaration of love. The audience enjoyed it so he pretended to join along.
Right now, he is watching the games in the comfort of his home. A large and spacious one of someone who spent his life being dedicated to the capitol. Who cultivated and shaped the hunger games into what it is today. With being the one to have had such a hand in the games, over the years he has gotten very good at being able to predict what is going to happen. Even with him intervening and trying to form the games to suit his needs.
It has been quite eventful with Katniss being surprisingly witty with gaining a bow, working with the District 11 girl, who he cannot bother remembering her name, to drop the tracker jackers on the career tributes. Which was unexpected but quite entertaining to watch.
Now Katniss is running towards the District 11 girl, where she is following the screams. The girl found herself caught in a net when trying to go along the forest.
Now it’s getting good again.
“What is that girl’s name again?” Snow asks his granddaughter who is sitting on the floor, eyes glued to the screen.
She looks up with a smile, “It’s Rue, Grandfather.” Her gaze falls back to the screen again.
Rue, ah yes, that was her name. Snow supposes the girl is going to die next. A pity, really.
As soon as Katniss makes it through the forest, racing past the trees to Rue’s cries, the boy from District 1 throws a spear right into Rue.
Just as Snow predicted.
Snow gives a ghost of a smile at that.
Katniss, though, fires an arrow right into the boy, killing him instantly. Which was also predictable.
Then for the first time in years, the unexpected happens for Snow.
Katniss is holding Rue in her arms, very delicately. Holding Rue until she passes on. That is predictable, they were allies so there was some sort of odd connection they had formed. A tribute crying over someone’s dead body is something Snow has seen over and over for each year.
Then Rue asks Katniss to sing.
The tune was faint at first, barely a whisper until the volume grew louder to where the audience could hear properly.
Deep in the meadow, under a willow.
Her voice was good, something that seemed easy to her. She sang with a sweetness, a sweetness Snow has not heard in a long while. The sweetness of someone who had to look after her family, a caregiver, a leader, and a friend.
Suddenly, Snow is not himself, he is a shell of a boy he once was. The shell he has spent many decades crafting to something unrecognizable. Someone he never wanted to be again.
Coriolanus creeps up to the forefront, mouth agape. A choking noise escapes his throat, and he catches himself, covering his mouth with the cloth kept at his side. His granddaughter looks up at him, puzzled with her brows furrowed, but her attention goes immediately back to the screen.
Coriolanus wills himself to keep any emotion he is feeling at bay, to not cause attention. But Lucy Gray just won’t stop singing. Is this a side effect of his ailment? Is hallucination taking its toll on him to see and hear things that just can’t possibly exist.
He made sure to get rid of every bit of knowledge of Lucy Gray but he underestimated the power her songs had on her audience. Of course the Covey would pass down her songs, or maybe it was someone in the audience who was so captivated just as Coriolanus once was.
Now the mockingjay is singing because Coriolanus thought getting rid of Lucy Gray’s name would be enough.
It isn’t over until the mockingjay sings.
‘Oh, this is far from over Lucy Gray’, he thinks, ‘I’m not done yet.’
Lucy Gray can keep on sending those mockingjays all she wants, but he will not waver.
Katniss can be dealt with, she will be dealt with easily. If not dealt with then, easily controlled. If she wins, then he will make it known that she does not have the upper hand. Just as he did with the other District 12 winner. That was easy, and Snow will make this one even easier.