A Lumberjack's love story / Coriolanus Snow (ft Treech)
summary : You found yourself appointed as Treech's mentor. You had believed that falling in love, especially with someone from a District, was an impossibility. The idea of developing feelings for your tribute seemed even more far-fetched. However, it became unmistakably evident that Snow had become somewhat obsessed and jealous of this unexpected connection. The love that was once rumored to be a mere Game strategy now revealed itself as undeniable truth. Snow is determined to assert your allegiance and make you aware of where your loyalties lie, employing Treech's memories as a strategic tool in the process.
p.s.: english is not my native language, so I apologize for any errors or mistakes. Additionally, I am open to writing about other tributes, like Treech x reader, or any other characters. Feel free to make requests; my ask box is always open!
Snow was never inclined to publicly display the bond between the two of you. Given the stakes of his family name, he recognized that their relationship was merely a facade. As time passed, it became not only unattractive for a woman of her youth but also jeopardized her reputation as a young aristocrat in the streets of the Capitol. Such thoughts that became fueled within your mind as you were compiled with a reminder of your mother’s desire to know what were your plans upon graduations. And to be completely fair, you had zero idea.
While the Academy expected you to maintain unwavering focus, Snow found himself increasingly intrigued by you. However, he wasn't the type to initiate things. Instead, he expressed his interest through subtle glances, careful not to be caught observing you during class. Despite his reserved yet confident demeanor, it was evident that Snow harbored an attraction towards you during his time as a student at the Academy. If only both of you were aware of the mutual sentiments brewing between you. If only.
In the initial weeks of the 10th Games, he witnessed you under the relentless summer sun of the Capitol. Your forehead glistened with a sheen of sweat as you struggled to maintain professionalism with your tribute. Treech. Recognizing the challenging nature of the task, he found himself increasingly captivated as your vulnerability became more pronounced each day. It was this vulnerability that marked Snow's first overt fixation on you. From the way you pampered Treech’s wound after training, to how you carefully swiped his sweet, making it slightly harder due to his curls peaking beneath his hat. How he had envied to be in Treech’s place.
The following day, as you prepared lunch for your tribute, he offered his suggestion. His very first interaction with you. "I'd recommend the sandwich." He said. Having noticed your early arrival in the cafeteria, he quietly approached you from behind, his gaze fixed on the softness of your skin as your fingers delicately folded the freshly cooked food into an aluminum bag. The aroma lingered, a distinct scent that had left an indelible impression on him since the first day he could approach. You responded with a smile, taking his advice to heart and adding additional sandwiches based on Snow's recommendation, expressing deep appreciation for his input.
On that very first day, Snow found himself unable to divert his thoughts. Whenever both of you shared the same space, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy when you attended to Treech’s skills during training. At times, he pondered whether your sentiments were equally directed towards someone like him, someone he considered beneath you. This notion offended him, yet he couldn't deny that he, too, harbored affection for his tribute. However, for Snow, it was more about care and presentation than genuine emotions.
Unlike Snow, you had gradually developed deep feelings for Treech. Similarly, even though he needed to take care for his female tribute, especially in your absence. Treech could only think about you. He often expressed his longing for you, complaining about how much he missed your presence or simply wanting to catch a glimpse of your face when you served him his regular meals. These seemingly ordinary gestures were significant to Treech, and he was determined to make you proud once declared the victor. To run away from the Capitol– To build a family of your own. However, that aspiration crumbled when, in the end, Lucy—Snow's tribute—claimed victory herself. Despite your efforts to conceal any sorrow and refrain from openly grieving for the person you loved, Treech's name appeared from Flickerman's announcements, and he was declared as deceased.
On that fateful evening, during the closure event of the 10th Hunger Games, Snow observed you closely. A sense of pride welled up within him as he witnessed his tribute not only surviving but excelling. However, this sentiment quickly shifted when he laid eyes on Treech's lifeless body in the arena, just moments before his demise. In his mind, he could almost hear Treech's voice pleading. "Be proud of me, Y/N." Despite suspecting that you might not be able to, given the emotional toll, Snow couldn't resist locking eyes with you, even with other tributes still alive.
Before just a few minutes that Lucy was announced the winner. Snow had yearned to approach you, to envelop you in a comforting hug, assuring you that everything would be alright. He wanted to commend your efforts in standing by Treech's side, supporting him in his quest for victory. Yet, a conflicting feeling gnawed at him, a sense that he was supposed to be the one you cared for, the one you cherished as you did Treech. It was a realization that he, too, would soon need to confront.
It was inevitable that you will be compelled to pay homage to your District. The profound impact of your care for Treech had touched his family, leading them to extend an invitation for you to visit his home District. Gratefully acknowledging this gesture, you agreed to be present at Treech's funeral. Simultaneously, Snow, prompted to return to District 12 himself, sought a distraction for his troubled mind. Before his departure as a Peacekeeper, you seized the opportunity to express your congratulations, a sentiment you had unintentionally neglected during the Games. And informed Snow about Treech’s funeral. "Treech's family invited me to their son’s funeral... I'm uncertain about the duration of my stay, but can you promise me something before I go?"
Your melodious voice, as you spoke to him, almost turned his stomach. He observed every nuance of your movements, noting the way your gaze traversed from his body to his lips. The awareness of your attraction to him lingered in the air, though you attempted, albeit futilely, to conceal it—thanks in part to Treech providing a convenient distraction. Or was it only in his head?
As you prepared to share your concerns, expressing the challenges of being a Peacekeeper, a role your sibling had also undertaken, he sought to reassure you. His fingers tenderly traced the contours of your soft cheeks, creating an irresistible desire to kiss those plump lips of yours. They appeared too tempting to resist, with a fleeting fear crossing his mind that Treech might have been the first to experience that indulgence. Despite the conflicting emotions, Snow found a peculiar satisfaction in Treech's demise. Yet, he remained steadfast and resolute in ensuring your promise. "I'll promise. I swear on my father's grave."
"Promise me you'll be cautious? When I return, let's meet at your grandmother's garden. No questions asked." Clarity was crucial, and Snow understood your aversion to ambiguity. Even in the aftermath of the Games, with Snow away during your grieving for Treech, the uncertainty gnawed at you. You couldn't shake off the nagging doubt about whether Snow would indeed come back from his duty or, worse, not return at all. "I will." He assured you sincerely. Leaning in, he planted a gentle kiss on your forehead just as his name was called to depart the Capitol and head back to District 12. What you didn't know was that his decision to serve as a Peacekeeper and be in District 12 wasn't solely an act of care; it was driven by a desire to reunite with Lucy. If only you were aware that things weren't unfolding as expected, and Snow was returning as a completely different man. "Noon?" He asked quickly before nodding to his colleague, indicating that it was his cue to leave.
Snow detested every moment of his stay to District 12. Honestly, witnessing how he treated Lucy served as a constant reminder of you back in the Capitol. Your image would casually infiltrate his thoughts, diverting his actions as he found himself doing everything with you in mind. Forgetting that the Games were still being aired, the revelation of the strong opinions on other Districts held about the tributes and their mentors left a bitter taste in Snow's mouth. It was especially repugnant if your name was uttered by those with the filthiest tongues. Snow harbored a visceral reaction, ready to eliminate anyone who dared to disrespect you with tasteless comments or words he hoped you hadn't heard during your time in Treech's District. Since emerging from that harrowing experience, he vowed to ensure that those in District 12 who spoke ill of you would suffer the consequences, every bit of it.
And the memory was etched in his mind, vivid as if it happened yesterday. Snow hadn't intended to be invited to the Hob, yet he found no reason to object when offered. Lucy remained a distraction for him, seated just a few tables away when he overheard those contemptible words. While he tried his very best to remain his eyes on the silhouette that was on the stage. The one he “Loved”. He imagined as each words began to fuel his determination to make their speaker cleanse their mouth with the foulest soap, a gesture to demonstrate that such opinions should be worn like armor, wielded like a weapon. "You know, Treech's mentor? Apparently, they fell in love during the Games... I can't even imagine, let alone see the person you loved in such a distraught situation." Although the speaker may not have sounded offensive to an average person, to Snow, it was the complete opposite.
Without a moment's hesitation, Snow unleashed a punch. He paid no heed to the gasps around him or the attempts of other boys to pull him away or defend themselves. In his mind, you belonged to him, and he couldn't fathom, let alone accept, the idea of you being with anyone else but him. The mere thought of enduring more distasteful words about you from the most insensitive individuals during your absence was unbearable. Regardless of the consequences, he was determined not to let it slide. When Snow, meant he’d do anything for you, he meant every words.
As Snow neared the end of his tenure as a Peacekeeper, with only a few months remaining, his anticipation to reunite with you grew stronger. Fortunately, he had the opportunity to receive updates about you during his breaks, thanks to calls with Tigris. Hearing her speak about your successes in university brought immense joy to Snow. Knowing that you were thriving and well was what mattered most to him. However, there was an underlying concern that continued to nag at him. Despite your objections, Tigris felt compelled to address it, especially considering Snow's already demanding role as a Peacekeeper. "She hasn't been coping well with Treech's death, Coryo. There are times when I see her crying in her sleep. She mentioned how she wishes he were here, sensing his presence, you know? I can’t believe I am going to say that but– I think they were genuinely in love. And it wasn’t just for the show."
Truly in love, the revelation that struck Snow the hardest was the hidden well of genuine skill that only emerged when necessary. Lucy lingered in his thoughts, a constant presence, while you were navigated the grieving process for you first love as well. He too, had doubts that Lucy was amongst his first love. Although genuine doubts crept in as he questioned whether the efforts he invested were truly worthwhile. The chaos he instigated at the Hob last night, the desperate plea from Sejanus – all of it was orchestrated for your sake. Yet, the realization that you hadn't given up on Treech, your former love, dampened his spirits. Snow, however, knew that your heart now belonged to him. Upon his return, he vowed to assert his claim unequivocally, free from any expectations.
Anticipating his imminent return, Tigris meticulously selected the most exquisite dress she could envision for someone of your stature. While the occasion might have seemed extravagant, she understood that her cousin Snow would value the effort, especially since your meeting was set to take place on Snow's rooftop—an ethereal space where innocence, purity, and passion converged. Restlessly, you began nervously nibbling at the cuticles of your fingers. "Don't be too shocked when you see him without his curls." Tigris quipped as you arrived at their apartment.
Since Snow became a victor, you noticed a shift in the opulence of the place compared to your last visit. Tigris's room now exuded her fashion sensibilities with a palette of pinks and light beiges, while Snow's room contrasted sharply with bright white walls and accents of crimson red. A broken frame holding his father's portrait captured your attention, and as you surveyed your surroundings in Snow's empire, you couldn't help but see a parallel with yourself—a broken frame that Snow seemed determined to mend with his love.
Before encountering you, Snow had a few errands to run, one of which involved settling the score with Casca. The second stop was to finally meet you. As the gentle rays of Capitol sunshine transitioned into the evening darkness adorned with stars, anticipation for the exciting yet thrilling meeting with you heightened since his return. "Where is she?" Arriving just in time at the entrance of his apartment, although he was well aware of your whereabouts. He played the part to make it appear otherwise, a little trick that didn't escape Tigris's notice. Her chuckle prompted him to follow her, momentarily catching his breath as she revealed. "At the rooftop. Waiting for you."
A wave of relief swept over him, and he expressed continuous gratitude to his cousins. Tigris attempted to assist him in catching his breath, noticing Snow's heightened excitement upon seeing you. She, too, was well aware of his intense fascination with you. However, witnessing the spectacle involving Treech and you, she grasped the potential threat her cousin might have posed. Bound by blood and family, she couldn't deny the reality and opted not to pretend. If Snow was genuinely in love with you, she had to believe him. "Just be gentle, okay? She just returned from Treech's District. Even if it’s been a few months. She might need more comfort than one can fathom."
She might need more comfort than one can fathom. Was read like butter to Snow’s ears. As if this was his very own speciality let alone being with the one he truly learned to hear that she was the one for him. He did not approached this statement as a sort of threat. In fact, he was going to use to his full potential and let you completely be compiled by him and emblembed the relationship between the two.
Upon entering, the familiar fragrance of fresh roses enveloped him—a scent he had sorely missed since his grandmother used to present him with one during the reaping ceremony. Despite his absence, the care bestowed upon the flowers was evident. It became clear that, much like him, you had also been away for some time. However, upon your return, you diligently attended to the flowers daily, diverting your focus from Treech. Among the many qualities Snow admired in you was your meticulous attention to detail, a fact he subtly acknowledged as he casually plucked a fresh rose and delicately inhaled its scent, all while listening to your sweet voice. "I'd be careful if I were you." he remarked nonchalantly.
And there you stood, flesh and blood. Your skin bore a slight tan from the harsh weather of Treech’s District, which quickly faded upon your return to the Capitol, where the grief over Treech proved more challenging than anticipated. Tigris noticed the change in your complexion, the lack of color that had manifested in your skin. Fortunately, you maintained the bold red lip, a shade crafted from the lipstick your mother often made for you—a detail Snow admired, especially as it harmoniously blended with his own colors.
"Thank you.” He managed to say, though in his defense, he was so captivated by your beauty that he found himself absentmindedly caressing the rose, which had fallen on its own. "You've picked the wrong rose. It was about to wither." You added, your words revealing both concern and almost boredom.
Snow detected a subtle tremor in your demeanor, observing how you had become fragile and adrift amid the chaos of your own emotions. Despite your efforts to conceal them, your vulnerability remained apparent. Inwardly, Snow acknowledged that he, too, wasn't immune, having fallen for a Snake that led him back to a recurring beginning. "How are you doing?" Was all he managed to say, careful not to exacerbate your grief for Treech or delve into the complexities of Lucy's memory. This one-on-one interaction became a delicate balancing act, particularly since you were well aware of the romantic display he had been showcasing.
"Okay, I suppose." Was your cautious response, accompanied by a hint of uncertainty, as if contemplating whether to revise your answer. In truth, you hadn't been doing well, resorting to sleeping at Snow's place to hide your tears. It added another layer of complexity to rest in Coriolanus's room, knowing he would return soon. You were aware that upon his return, you'd need to find your own place, a life independent of others. Yet, it seemed this wasn't part of Snow's agenda. "How was District 12?" You inquired, steering the conversation toward another topic.
"Could ask the same, sweetheart." Snow retorted, a reluctance to recall evident in his expression. Yet, for you, forgetting proved to be a much harder task. The memories of moments spent with Treech haunted you – sneaking him out of the Capitol's Zoo, hand in hand, discussing a future that now felt lost. Memories of him teaching you to wield an axe, his relationship with Lamina, and the dreams of building a family together. The breaking point came when you saw his eyes on the screen, calling out your name, almost begging and apologizing for deciding your fate. In that moment, you desperately tried to erase it all, but it only resulted in a torrent of tears. Your trembling fingers betrayed the pain at the thought of Treech. Sensing your anguish, Snow reached out, comforting you and reassuring. That it wasn’t all your fault. "Hey— Hey— I'm here."
Snow, despite his aversion to everything, understood the pain of losing someone dear. Despite his pride and the incident that involved being bitten by a snake, Lucy had become a memory he learned to rely on, blurring the lines between that memory and the reality of you. "You did everything you could..." He spoke, the resonance of his voice echoing the tone he maintained during the Games. "You taught him everything, prepared him to be a victor, and yet—" He paused, a moment of reflection taking him back to his own experiences in a similar position with Lucy.
"Please..." You pleaded, attempting to bury the remnants of memories. Yet, as your gaze locked onto Snow's, you found yourself fully engulfed in his eyes, surrendering to a state of vulnerability and desperation. You implored Snow silently, begging him to restore you to the woman you once were. Snow was prepared to undertake that task, ready to unveil the true essence of himself.
"Stay with me." You uttered the same words spoken that night with Treech by your side, the eve before the Games commenced. Feeling Snow's arms enveloping you, he whispered the same reassurance Treech told you, that everything would be okay, that tomorrow would bring us all home. Unfortunately, that promise remained unfulfilled. “You are at home now.” Snow implied on reassuring you the best he can offer. An offer of love, protection, and making sure you were the queen in his very own eyes. The same way Treech did.
"I'll ensure your protection, shower you with love, and take care of you." Snow vowed, his words echoing those once spoken by Treech when he confessed his love to you. With that commitment hanging in the air, Snow approached, and this time, with no Peacekeepers present. Snow was fortunate enough to feel his lips meeting yours for the first, and not the last, time. As he leaned in, he silently and gently brushed the bottom of your lips. Unbeknownst to you, Snow had been well aware of the connection between Treech and you. He had observed the way Treech looked at you and noted the similarities in their demeanor just before a kiss. Everything had been meticulously calculated to make you his own.
Every details were orchestrated to convey the authenticity of a man you had once deeply fell in love.
