"The four-note tune was a fragment of a humming tune that was passed down in my family was eventually forgotten and remembered to only that bit I sang to you. They say my great granduncle or something like that use to always sing it to the girl he was in love with but could never meet.  That's how they would secretly meet, the birds would carry the song through the forrest as a signal and she would always sneak out"
⎯ Rue Barnette answering Katniss' question in the arena.

When Coriolanus Snow, who dressed regally in his white and red attire, walked pridefully into his office. Yet as he entered, the blonde came into a halt as Cierco von Tougaard dressed impeccably in his military attire turned around.

"Major," Coriolanus smiled.

"Ah! Just the man I want to see," he nodded. "I hope you don't mind I helped myself to a cup of tea."

The blonde trailed his eyes to the teacup on his desk, and then back to him. "But of course not," he smiled.

"There's something I would to discuss with you. As Dr Gaul is with now with my daughter," he gestured for the two of them to sit.

Something stirred in the bottom of his stomach. Had he played the wrong move? Had he miscalculated and cornered himself into a checkmate?

The two sit in the small lounge in his office, adjacent to the private powder room.

"There's no need to be nervous my boy," Cierco chuckles, taking off his hat. "It has come to my attention that you have intentions to marry my daughter, is that correct?"

"Yes sir," he nods. "I love your daughter—"

"Do not kid yourself my boy," Cierco cuts. "We von Tougaards read people for a living, we discover more about a person than a person understands about themselves in a lifetime."

Coriolanus refrains himself from lashing out any further. No matter how much he wanted to convince her father that he loved her. That no else could love her the way he did.

"I understand that your ambitions lie in the sights for presidency no?"

"Yes sir," the corner of his lips curve slightly. Cierco chuckles lowly.

"I will admit Coriolanus, you are impressive and I don't just go around saying that lightly to anyone. Dr Gaul has convinced me that you are what Panem needs. What do you believe?"

"I do sir. I believe the Capitol has lost control over the districts. The Capitol is Panem's heart, and it is infested by a disease that's only been barely fought. The hunger games I believe is a cure. To strike fear into the other districts and serves as a reminder for us of our primitive state in order for us to evolve. And it's truely appalling that it is only I, you, Dr Gaul and Drusilla that understands that."

"Indeed," Cierco smirks. "I would like to make a proposal for not only your Coriolanus, but for the sake of the future generations of Panem. You see my line will probably end with my eldest. His inferior children will tarnish the family name. However Drusilla—, I have made sure to preserve her. For the greater good of Panem. She may not carry my name but if she marries you, her children will be worthy to called my grandchildren. Your children will be brilliant no?"

"I will admit I have imagined it."

"I've always wanted my Drusilla to become president herself you know? She has the skills, the mind—, but she lacks drive. Something that you have. I believe with my daughter at your side and your's at her's you will be Panem's shining new hope. However...." he clears his throat, "I want you to ensure my future grandchildren are exceptional. I don't want them to be raised like these vapid spoiled spawns that your people procreate. I want an heir to the von Tougaard name even if it means they are under another name."

"Of course," Coriolanus smiled the same way he did. "I will ensure your legacy lives on."

"Excellent. But I must warn you now Coriolanus. Drusilla has a mind that will exceed my own some day, we von Tougaards are never controlled. One cannot contain us but working with us in partnership is of the greatest respect," he gets up as Coriolanus does too. "And do not fret my boy about my daughter's reluctance. She is smarter not to swim against the tide but rather harness it. Something you must learn to do with her."

"I will take care of her sir," he shook his hand.

"I rather she takes care of herself," Cierco jests.

⎯⎯⎯

The black silk and white collared dress was a stark contrast against the flower wall composed of colours she once wore. Drusilla had organised a private balcony at the exclusive de Faunte cafe on eighty-seventh street. She gazed out to her right, watching a young couple walking down the street with a smile painted on their faces as the man kissed her cheek lovingly.

"You look beautiful my petal," she felt arms slide down her shoulders and his lips pecking her cheek.

"Coryo," she masked her iciness with a uninterested expression. "New pet name?"

Coriolanus only gestured to the petal that he picked from her hair before picking it up and throwing it on the floor.

"Can I get a kiss?" he smirked leaning closer. "Would it not be a romantic story to tell our first kiss was here?"

Drusilla sighed, hesitantly wrapping her arms around his neck as the blonde dived in with his lips to meet hers. The kiss at first was but nothing but a simple peck. But Coriolanus has kneeled to her level to pull her closer. The kiss was more passionate, and passion turned into hunger. He had waited for this, waited for what felt like centuries.

"You're getting ahead, of yourself," she pulled away.

"There's a photographer on the street below us," he whispered on the shell of her ear and then took her hand and kissed it before returning to his seat. Drusilla then forced herself to giggle like an actress on a romantic movie of a new bride in martial bliss, which Coriolanus convinced himself firmly that it was real.

"I've already ordered for the both of us," she kept her smile. "I've already done a sweep of the balcony. We can talk freely as long we keep it up."

This would be their first headline. The first date and the first kiss.

"So when did you want to have the wedding?" Drusilla asks.

"Ideally early next year," Coriolanus says.

A knock from the door announces the waiter's arrival. He brings in a tray of tea and two slice of cake before leaving.

"I want to make something clear Coriolanus," her had changed the atmosphere of the room quickly as she raised her cup to her lips. "I'll agree to play doting wife, whatever image you want me to play if you can play doting husband. But I need to know if you'll show all of your cards to me if I show you mine; and I know that may difficult for you Coryo but you need to meet me halfway. We will fool no one."

She blew on the cup slowly, before drinking from it. "I assure you petal—"

"Coryo," she sighed. "The moment we climb that social ladder together—, the moment you become president not just me, not just you but both of us are sipping the poison chalice. We cannot stay sane to one another without honesty Coryo. I mean it, no lies, n-no dishonesty. Promise me that we will not lie to one another?"* she looked at him like a young girl pleading.

There was a pregnant pause before he answered: "yes."

"Good," she smiled softly, hesitantly at first intertwining her fingers with his. "All we will both meet our downfalls."

"I assume you have our strategy figured out?" Coriolanus says firmly holding her hand. He knew well enough that she would be the strategiser, he knew he couldn't reach certain places that she could reach. Think the way like she could.

"In order to secure control of people you must secure the fundamental stages of time. Past, present and future. Now traditionally the person running for candidacy controls the present the future. The revolutionist and a symbol for the people. The partner play the past, the traditionalist. Charms to the people of past. The older generation who wants things to remain the same. But... I propose we flip those roles. I'll take care of the normal citizens of the Capitol, we need to show them we can push the ordinary boundaries and win the hearts of them. Given my place at the university I can shape the minds of the future to how you see fit. You need to gain support of the members of the past, the present. College batch, forefathers," she explains. "That way we can outflank both and then meet in the middle and focus on problems on the present. So any competitors, threats?"

"There are a few, but even if there aren't eyes and ears it's still a public space," he warns.

"Very well," she nods. "I suggest our next step is securing a seat for you at the senate. That is of course getting you to secretary of war. How long do you intend to stay head game maker?"

"Two years, I still have to stabilise the trajectory of the games and of course find a suitable successor," he says taking a sip of tea.

"Any viable candidates?"

"There's two, one is polished but no creativity. The other is extraordinary but not rational," he sighs.

"Let me take a look at them," she suggests.

"Petal," he smiles tightly, "I'm quite capable."

"You are, but Coryo you need to understand that there are some things I'm better at, things you can't reach and those are gambles. People are predictable yes but people can become unpredictable too. You're a game maker are you not? That we can all be stripped from order and turn into animals we never thought we become? That is unpredictability. I suggest in the future you leave people like them to me." Drusilla almost scoffs at Coriolanus' expression turning cold. His damn inferiority complex.

"Darling," she sighs rubbing her thumb over his hand. "I'm not a threat Coryo, but I can be. I want this to work..."

Control. Control. Control.

"... but you need learn how to view me as your weapon, not your weakness. You need to learn to trust in my capabilities, and in time you will learn them too."

Coriolanus' cold demeanour changes. A grin traces his lips as he shakes his head and lets out a low chuckle. "Have I ever told you're incredibly sexy when you talk like that?"

Drusilla couldn't help but roll her eyes and sigh earning an amused looks from the blonde.

"So on more serious matters, how many children do you wish to have?" she asks.

"I would like two of course, but if any future health problems occur then one is enough," he states. She is strong enough he thought. She was raised by one of the greatest minds, raised in military bases almost all of her life and has the physical endurance. He would ensure that she would be healthy, well-fed and nourished unlike his mother was during the war—, no he would not allow her to share the same fate his mother did.

"Very well," Drusilla takes another delicate sip of her tea. "I think thirty is a perfect age for becoming president, it's an age of maturing and settling down. Besides I suspect Ravinstill's health won't be declining anytime soon, it's best Coryo if we leave his health to roll on naturally."

Coriolanus freezes. "How do you know?" he asks cautiously.

"Didn't my father tell you Coryo? We read people for a living. But do not fret dear, there's no need to walk around eggshells around me. It's unnecessarily tiring. You'll get your hands dirty and I'll make sure there clean, cause besides... we're walking this fine line together are we not?"

'I rather she take care of herself,' he heard her father say once more. Indeed she could.

"Indeed my darling rose," he sharply grins.

"Well, I'll like to recommend some people to become apart of your team. Publicists, event organisers, analysts, secretaries etc, I've already reviewed your current ones and there all incompetent to be blunt, they won't be able to adapt to your plans. You may have you pick of the litter," she slides over files before getting up.

"Where are you going dear?" he frowns.

"I have a train to catch dear to eleven, I have my respects to pay for someone," she leans and pecks his cheek, long enough for the photographer to capture.

⎯⎯⎯

The train ride is a blur. Capitol skyscrapers turns into ruins, that turn into abundant fields. Once she's hopped off the train she begins the familiar journey down the main markets where she purchases a small branch of apple blossom and thanks the lady.

Though she had opted for a more simpler attire, an ivory summer-styled dress that had made her look like a goddess visiting a small village. Citizens, workers and shop buyers all staring at her sombre expression as she made her way past the main square and took a right to the cemetery.

She walked down the aisle of stone tombs, all inadequately taken care of with cracks and moss from some growing onto the names of the tombstone that had almost made most unidentifiable. Drusilla stopped at the last one furthest to the east, as she bent down and placed the branch on his tombstone.

Hunter Barnette*.
Son, brother—

lover was what it was missing. Drusilla gently wiped the tears that managed to build up in her eyes.

"Hey," she smiled. "Sorry it's been a while, things have been... well hectic," she laughed. "So... I'm getting married. Well eventually... his name is Coriolanus Snow. You would you think my father were bad, but this man is arrogant as possibly more than my own father."

She stares at the name. Hoping that there was some miraculous reason that he would respond but knew well enough it would never happened. And even if after everything he were alive he would be exhausted.

"It will be... a very long time till I will be able to see you again," she begins to sob. "I must limit my visits now that Coriolanus is in the picture. He is a man who sees people like chess pieces, and likes to keep the ones most important to him close—, I'm sorry it's a habit," she quickly apologises.

"I've made friends in the Capitol, some colleague from work. Tigris—, a very talented designer with perhaps the kindest heart I've ever seen. She makes me wonder if she is even Capitol, she reminds me of you a little—, perhaps that's why I like her," she laughed.

When had been the last time she had laughed so genuinely? So free? she pondered, yet knowing well of that answer.

"I miss you," she brushes her fingers along his name. "I miss feeling human again." He'd taught her that. To learn how to be human, to make choices for herself. To be happy.

We were supposed to run away together. To run away from all of this. To elope and never look back.

Drusilla closes her eyes gently, placing her other hand on her shoulder imagining his hand there.

You were suppose to teach more on how to be human. We were suppose to run away. Run away from my father. Run a way from this life.

The brunette begins to stand up and gazes at the setting sun, and begins to hum on repeat the tune he use to always sing as she walks towards the small forest. Once she reaches the gateway to the forest she crosses her arms across her chest and rests her hands on her shoulders and reimagines the warmth of his embrace and closes her eyes.

Her lips parted as she whistled the familiar four-note song echoing across the forest.

⌈

Coriolanus Snow, in his old age, sat with his granddaughter Drusilla at the table. She had been invited over for dinner being (the obvious) favourite grandchild of the president. She looked so much like her, smiled so much like her Coriolanus would always think. Perhaps that why she was his favourite. His own children barely looked like their mother now in their older age.

"We learnt about grandma'am today in my class," she pridefully said looking across the table.

"Did you now?" he smiled.

"Yes, she was renowned as the most brilliant minds even to this day," she says knowing well how much her grandfather loved his late wife.

"She was indeed," he chuckled. "These psychologists and professors nowadays are still trying to pick her mind."

"I looked at mother's old photos she use to collect of mother. She was very beautiful," she adds. "When I get older I want to be just like her."

Before he gets says anything the intermission ends for the Hunger Games come back on as the two watch it. However as the camera pans closer to the district eleven and district twelve tribute a familiar tune catches his attention. He knew that tune anywhere, the same tune he would always hear his wife hum.

"— they say my great granduncle or something like that use to always sing it to the girl he was in love with but could never meet. That's how they would secretly meet, the birds would carry the song through the forrest as a signal and she would always sneak out"

As the final words leave the young tribute's lips Coriolanus Snow's jaw tightens, as he grips his knife firmly as he continues to slice his steak.

⌋

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

hehe so what do you think?
* the same line that Coriolanus says to Katniss

Also to confirm confusion Drusilla (snow's wife) dies of age/before Katniss' hunger games as it just fits better for this story.

I've always loved Rue and wanted to do an easter egg about her through an ancestor. More backstory on them will be revealed and how Hunter Barnette dies. But I would love to hear ur theories.

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