The Roses and Hibiscus Chronicles - Coriolanus Snow

The first word

It was a rare moment of peace and joy for Snow and Indila as they sat on the ground, watching Crassus toddle back and forth between them. His chubby little legs wobbled with each step, but he was determined to reach his destination. Snow and Indila cheered him on, their voices mingling in a chorus of encouragement.

Despite the tension that lingered between them, they couldn't help but be drawn together by the innocence and delight of his son's antics. Crassus's laughter filled the air, a sound that was music to their ears and a balm to their troubled hearts.

As Crassus reached Indila's outstretched arms, she scooped him up with a triumphant smile, pressing kisses to his rosy cheeks. Snow watched them with a tender expression, his heart swelling with love for his family.

For a brief moment, all was right in their world. The weight of their troubles lifted, replaced by the simple joy of being together as a family. And in that moment, Snow and Indila found solace in each other's presence, silently acknowledging the bond that held them together despite the trials they faced. Snow almost forgot Indila was not talking to him, it was that silly thing about the games. The games were almost over, only 4 tributes remained, still, she wouldn't talk to him except for moments like these.

"Come, darling, come to Dila," she cooed to Crassus, until he repeated her words in his very first word: "D-D-D-ila." Snow was delighted to witness his son's first word, but couldn't help feeling a twinge of jealousy. After all, Crassus was his son, and though Indila and he had no blood ties, it was clear that Crassus favored her. Indila cheered and kissed him, "Say it again, Dila," prompting Crassus to laugh and repeat, "D-D-Dila." "Oh gosh, did you hear that?" Indila said, turning to Snow. "I love you so much, little one." "I did," Snow assented.

Then an idea struck him. It wasn't a bad thing at all. This was one of the motivations he had for bringing Indila here in the first place: for her to be a mother to his son. And letting her know this was the perfect way to win back her heart. Unbeknownst to Snow, a hint of jealousy still lingered on his face. "Is everything okay?" Indila asked as she approached him. "Yes... it's just that it's his first word, and I didn't want it to be like this," Snow explained. Indila thought she knew what was going on and shyly kissed Snow's cheek. "Don't take it personally. We just spend more time together, and you are a very busy person..." "No," Snow interrupted her and continued. "It's not that. I just... I wish he would call you 'mom'."

Snow could sense Indila's surprise, as she struggled to find the right words. "No, I could never... It's not my place," she finally managed to say. Snow looked at her with a somber expression. "So, whose place is it? His mother is dead." For a moment, Snow felt a pang of sadness at the mention of his late wife, Livia. Not that he missed her—far from it—but if Indila couldn't fill this role in Crassus' life, he would be left without a mother, much like Snow himself had been. Indila remained silent.

"You can tell him about who his mother was. I'm sure he would be very proud of her, and I can be an amazing stepmother. I love him, it's true, more than anything, but I don't want to play a role in his life that was never meant to be mine," Indila finally spoke, her voice tinged with sincerity. Snow realized he would need to open up.

"You knew my mom?" Snow asked, Indila shook her head, her expression pained, as she cradled Crassus in her lap, sensing his growing fatigue. "That's because she was dead. She sang me to sleep every single night. She was the sweetest person I've ever met. She smelled like roses," Snow reminisced. Indila smiled at his memories. "Just like you," she said softly.

"She was so beautiful. I wish I looked more like her, especially the eyes. But people used to say I'm the spitting image of my father," Snow reminisced, his voice tinged with sadness. Indila listened intently, sensing the weight of his words.