Chapter Text
Your brother hadn't been the same ever since he returned from the districts. You knew that, and you’d done your best to avoid him. For the most part that had been easy, considering how busy he was with building his career. You, of course, weren’t particularly fond of his line of work, but you supposed the games were just another necessary evil in this world. At least that’s what your family had instilled in you.
Being the youngest of the bunch, Coryo and Tigris, your brother and cousin respectively, had always been keeping secrets from you, and that hadn’t really changed. Back then you hated being kept in the dark, but nowadays.. you get the feeling they were doing you a favour, to some extent.
Soon after Coryo’s return, your cousin had initially started to distance herself - you couldn't blame her. However, grandma'am's health was starting to deteriorate as of late, which meant all three of you had to be there. It shattered your heart to see her like this, especially as you had to weather the storm all on your own. Only now that time was running out had the two of them bothered to show.
So here you were. You were sat on a chair next to the plush bed she was laid on, fast asleep. Coriolanus stood next to you, whilst Tigris was hunched over the bed from the other side of the room. Having cared for her for the past six months, ever since you graduated, you were suddenly reminded of their continuous absence. They had abandoned you, left you all on your own to take care of yours and their grandma’am, and only now that she was nearing her end did they decide to bless you with their presence. It left a stinging feeling within you.
As Tigris stroked her hair, you couldn't help but break into tears. You'd been caring for her all alone for so long now, with the two of them focused on their respective careers. You didn’t want to cry, you wanted to shut both of them out, but you couldn’t stop the tears from welling over even in front of them.
You knew how ashamed Grandma’am was that her Coriolanus had essentially become the charity project of the Plinths, out of all people. Before she really started to lose grasp of reality she’d go on and on about how he had replaced his own blood and flesh with those district dogs. How he would be the end of the great Snow dynasty. You didn’t want to add fuel to the fire, but you simply couldn’t help but feel that there was some truth to what she was saying. At least Tigris still bothered to show up for your Sunday dinners, back when Grandma’am was still well enough. But your own brother, he’d abandoned you, and now he had the gall to show up here and pretend to grieve. And you were sure he’d continue to pretend that he was still her darling grandson as soon as she had passed. All to save face as always.
You felt a cold, firm hand on your shoulder, pulling you close to his chest. You shivered in his embrace, but he ignored it and simply petted your hair. What normally might’ve calmed you down felt robotic, unnatural, coming from him. You didn’t want his hands anywhere near you.
"Hessie?" Tigris' soft voice sounded out, reaching across the bed to hold your hand. You felt your brother tensing up behind you. He always hated that nickname. "I've got her. Just stay here with grandma'am." Not giving you a chance to speak for yourself, he soon ushered you out of the room, his hand on the small of your back as he guided you into your own.
You hadn't slept in your own bed for days. In fear that something would happen when you weren’t with her, you didn't want to leave her alone even for a moment, so when you did get the chance to rest, it would always be in the velvet armchair you'd practically been glued to as of late. Coriolanus could tell you were nearing your limit.
He closed the door behind him, gesturing for you to sit down on the bed. Unlike you he remained on his feet, leaning back against the secretaire. You twiddled with your thumbs as you waited for him to speak, avoiding eye contact. Still he could see the tears steadily flowing down your cheeks.
"Hersilia." His voice was stern, making you straighten up a little to meet his gaze. Still, the look on his face softened as he took in the sight of you. You appeared even more dishevelled than when he first got here. Unsure where to begin, he carefully sat down next to you, right on the edge of your bed. "I'm sorry. I never intended to let you handle this all on your own, you're aware I've had a lot on my plate, with president Ravinstill's declining health and all.." He began, and your jaw clenched at what he was insinuating.
"How can you even speak of that whole ordeal while your own grandmother is on her deathbed just a couple rooms away?” you interrupted, the words falling off your tongue before you could even think twice about it. “Look at yourself, Coryo, I can't even recognise you anymore. you're using a man's impending death to gain political power for yourself!" you paused, breathing in, "not even your bootlicking old self would’ve went that far," you let out a humourless chuckle, the sadness in your eyes replaced by disbelief.
He deeply inhaled, stretching out his hand to grasp at yours, but you instinctively pulled away from him. You opened your mouth as if to speak again, but this time he cut you off.
"I've spoken to her doctors already. They gave her a couple days at most. Tigris refused, but I'll be moving back in with you until further notice. They worry you’ll be too struck with grief to live on your own once everything has gone down.” He spoke so harshly, as if trying to punish you with that new piece of information.
You struggled to process these news. You wanted to protest, to point out that Tigris would never have said no to that, would never have abandoned you like that. But she already had, and so had he. And the knowledge that Grandma'am would soon no longer be with you - even if you thought you'd been prepared - left you in shock. You couldn't stop the tears from bubbling up again, and no longer having the strength to protest, you finally allowed your brother to hold you in his arms again, enveloping you in the dizzying scent of roses.
It had been almost a year since then. your brother had bounced back much faster than you, but he'd stuck around to ‘take care of you’. Whenever he wasn't busy with work, at least. You didn't know how to feel about his presence.
Then the president’s death, and the subsequent elections, came around. In a way, you hoped your brother would win, so that he might move out. But you feared the tremendous boost in power and status it would bring him might only make him more demanding and rigid.
You were right.
What's worse is, he'd made you move into the presidential palace with him. Something about presenting himself as a family man. Since he hadn't started one of his own yet, you were the closest he would get.
The high marble walls made the place feel cold and unwelcoming. It didn't help that Coriolanus was rarely home during the first couple of months. When he was, he'd be locked up in his home office. You were surrounded by cold, half-empty rooms and the staff he kept, many of whom couldn’t talk to you even if they were allowed to. It had been four months and three weeks, yet you still couldn't bring yourself to call this place home.
Barely a month into his presidency, you'd been given a strict protocol to follow. He had forbidden you from seeing the vast majority of your closest friends, claiming it would reflect poorly on him and his public image. Apparently they weren't good enough to be seen with you. The ones that remained, he'd all found some excuse to cut out of your life eventually.
He wouldn't even let you see Tigris anymore. He'd assigned a maid to watch over you around the clock, although she felt more like a nanny. You almost felt bad for the girl. You supposed it paid well, though. With the support of Strabo Plinth and nearly the entire capitol, Coriolanus had plenty of money to spend.
Not to mention that with your intense reaction to grandma'am's passing, which had lasted for months, the media had of course made you out to be much more fragile and emotional than you really were. You suspected that he had a hand to play in it. If you tried to tell anyone about how Coriolanus practically kept you locked up in here, they'd have every reason to brush it off. You were the labile little sister of their beloved president. Everything about the situation was in his favour.
The general consensus seemed to be that he was a good brother for protecting you and taking care of you, despite being some sort of mental case. You despised him for it.
You were surprised when you finally saw his car approaching the gates through your bedroom window. It was only four in the afternoon. He was never home this early.
A chill ran down your spine when he stepped out of the backseat of the car, eyes almost immediately finding yours as you stood there. A smile formed on his lips when he spotted you, but it held nor invoked no warmth in you.
You stepped back from the window, unable to stand to look at him any longer. His faux niceness nauseated you. The universe was just cruel for giving such a cold, vile man such charisma.
A couple minutes passed by, until you heard the familiar sound of the door opening and closing behind you. The faint smell of roses invaded your senses. You turned around to face him, your jaws and hands tense.
The blonde was pleased to see you’d chosen to wear one of the dresses he personally bought for you today. Well, not that you had to actually choose - his staff assembled and laid out your clothes for the night and next day every night before you went to bed. He could tell you were struggling to adjust, but the cold demeanour you presented him with even now upset him.
He hadn’t come home early just to get the cold shoulder.
He plastered on a tight-lipped smile again, perhaps hoping to put you at ease, but after all these years you could easily call his bluff. You stayed silent, not breaking eye contact with him.
“We’re going out to eat tonight, Silia. I expect you will act appropriately.” He spoke, his words laced with that deceptively soft tone. A thinly veiled threat.
You took a few seconds to react, meekly nodding your head. He raised an eyebrow. “You’re not even gonna talk to me?” More silence.
You watched the look on his face harden, before he sighed deeply and turned around, grabbing the handle of the door and leaving it half opened. He stopped to glance back at you over his shoulder.
“You’re clearly not well enough to venture out yet. I’ll have Cardie tell them to deliver the food here.” He shut the door behind him before you could answer, leaving you even more upset. He’d only ever let you leave the house for any of his public appearances until now. Whenever he needed to have you on his arm to show a united front. Of course he’d take any excuse to keep it that way.
Dinner that night was awfully tense. He wouldn’t stop glaring at you from across the long, rectangular table. The dining room felt empty - all of this big extravagant furniture, with nobody but you two to use it - but you certainly didn’t mind the distance it put between the two of you. Clearly though, he did.
You’d excused yourself from the table after barely even finishing your appetiser. This annoyed him more than it should; he’d requested your favourite for dessert. And that sure wasn’t easy to find considering the scarcity of luxury ingredients that still had a hold on the nation.
He didn’t stay long before he got up and followed you. He’d taken you in, the trainwreck that you were without him, and carefully built the life you needed in order to flourish. All of this for you, and you still neglected your older brother. Granted, he hadn’t been around to spend time with you very often, but that was never part of the plan.
You were supposed to crack, to fall apart once more before him. He didn’t want to hurt you, but you’d made it clear you wouldn’t give him a chance under normal circumstances. His only option was to break you down and build you right back up, mould you into exactly what he wanted you to be. You were supposed to need him, to come to him. Instead you were shutting him out. It infuriated him, but he wouldn't let you see him in that state.
You used to be just like your mother. Warm and caring and selfless. Coriolanus cherished recognizing pieces of her in you. He’d seen it when you were little, barely six years old, and still helped Tigris and grandma’am around the house. He’d seen it when you stayed home and looked after grandma’am those last few months.
He wondered why you couldn’t be like that with him, the person who needed it the most. He imagined you’d be there to greet him at the door after those particularly stressful days and offer to make him tea and massage his shoulders. But that day never came, and you showed no signs of even beginning to open up to him.
By the time he’d reached your bedroom door, he needed to take a moment to collect himself. He’d unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt and discarded his waistcoat on his way here, not even bothering to throw it down the laundry chute. Those avoxes were there for a reason.
You jolted as you heard a steady knock on the tall white double doors to your bedroom. You already knew it was him; you could practically sense his frustration without taking a single glance at him.
When you didn’t react, he pushed down the handle and entered on his own volition. That cold glare he cast your way sent chills down your spine. He closed the door behind him and took some determined steps in your direction. You’d barely had time to settle down before he interrupted, still sitting on the edge of your burgundy canopy bed. You leaned back to rest on your elbows once he got a little too close, trying to pull away from him.
“Hersilia.” He spoke as he stared deep into your eyes, his voice cold and hard. You felt as if he was boring into your soul. His big hands planted on either side of you, trapping you beneath him, didn’t make you feel any less on edge. You silently scolded yourself for letting him get to you, willing yourself not to show any weakness.
“Coriolanus.” You returned his icy tone, carefully observing him as he struggled to read you. He wasn’t used to this. Knowing you could have that effect on him, give him a taste of his own medicine, was a surprising but welcome boost to your brittle ego.
He pulled back again, allowing you to straighten up. You watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he pulled himself together, that impeccable poker face once again gracing his face. The dim lighting vaguely illuminated his sharp features as he stood in front of you. You bore little resemblance to him, something you were almost grateful for. But you couldn’t deny he was just beautiful as he towered over you. Nature was cruel.
His voice sounded out again, bringing you back to reality. “I have been very tolerant the last couple of months. I know grandma’am’s passing hit you hard, and I know you’ve been struggling to adjust. But you cannot continue to shut me out.” You felt the resilience melting off of you as you took him in, making you feel small. You were starting to think his cold exterior wasn’t just a facade anymore. In so many ways, he was just like you remembered your father to be. Those fierce blue eyes completely devoid of empathy, his domineering nature, his incessant need for control. Only he was worse; your father never had this much influence, this much room to exert his cruelty.
Words were flowing out of your mouth again before you could even consider them. “Tolerant, is that what you call it? You’ve taken away any sense of normalcy I had left after losing Grandma’am. My friends, my home, my freedom, Tigris. I don’t even blame her for abandoning you, I should’ve done the same long ago!” You spat at him, cheeks heating up with anger.
Shock flashed through Coriolanus’ eyes, soon morphing into anger. Before he could even think it through his hand was tangled in your loose hair, holding you in place as he pressed you against the tall bedframe, the cool metal digging into your spine.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You always take her side, but you don’t even know her. Our cousin is not the woman you think she is, Silia.” Chills wracked through you as he spoke, without showing any hesitation.
“You have no idea the things we went through before you came around, before I had to watch my mother die to bring your pathetic existence to life. At least, Tigris could sell herself and the little dignity our family had left to put food on the table. But you..” He dryly chuckled, his free hand gripping your jaw. You felt like your heart might jump out of your throat any moment now.
“You did nothing but weigh us down. Your mere existence meant I had to starve even more, sleep even less just so I could shush you, all because you couldn’t stop crying.. All the while excelling at school and being the sole protector of our family name. You? You’ve had it so fucking easy, and neither me or Tigris have ever held it against you. If you weren’t family I’d have kicked you out long ago now. Let you live on the streets, see how long you last with nothing to keep you afloat but your body.” His words were laced with venom, stabbing deeper than a blade ever could. He could’ve gutted you alive and it would’ve been far easier to withstand than this.
Your breathing was shaky and shallow as you struggled to process his words. He retreated for a moment, before you felt a ringing in your ears, your left cheek stinging with pain. You felt a pounding in the back of your head from the way it crashed into the bedframe. One of your hands coiled around it to keep you upright as the other held your aching, certainly bruised face.
“I’ll give you another chance. Dinner, tomorrow at eight. Don’t be late.” He spoke, soon leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. Only this time, you heard a lock clicking into place.