The Roses and Hibiscus Chronicles - Coriolanus Snow

Sickness

Snow stood in stunned silence as the doctor's words echoed in his mind, each syllable driving home the crushing weight of his own culpability. "as if she had swallowed small particles of coniine for most of her life, her liver is now very compromised". There was coniine in his poison, there was coniine in his sores. She was always so kind, she would never give up kissing his lips. Indila's illness, the slow and insidious decay of her health, was a direct consequence of his actions. The realization hit him like a physical blow, knocking the breath from his lungs and leaving him reeling in disbelief. He would never tell her, but she probably had the same realization as him.

Guilt clawed at his insides, a gnawing sense of remorse that threatened to consume him whole. How could he have been so blind, so callous, to not see the consequences of his actions until it was too late? He had convinced himself that everything he did was for the greater good, that the sacrifices he made were necessary for the stability and prosperity of Panem. But now, faced with the tangible evidence of his own hubris, he found himself questioning everything he had ever believed.

A surge of anger rose within him, directed not at Indila, but at himself. How could he have allowed things to come to this? How could he have been so reckless with her life, so cavalier with the one person who had ever truly cared about him? The weight of his own failures bore down on him like a leaden cloak, suffocating him with the magnitude of his own inadequacy.

But even amidst the tumult of his emotions, a small voice whispered in the recesses of his mind, urging him to rationalize his role in Indila's plight. He couldn't deny the facts, couldn't ignore the undeniable truth that his choices had led to her suffering. But he couldn't allow himself to be consumed by guilt, to succumb to the notion that he was solely responsible for her condition.

After all, hadn't he always acted with the best interests of Panem in mind? Hadn't he sacrificed so much, endured so many hardships, in service to the greater good? The path he had chosen had been a difficult one, fraught with challenges and sacrifices, but it had been necessary for the stability and prosperity of their nation.

No, Snow couldn't allow himself to shoulder the full weight of the blame. There were extenuating circumstances, mitigating factors that absolved him of total culpability. He was a product of his environment, a man shaped by the harsh realities of the world he inhabited. He had no choice, he did nothing wrong.

With this newfound resolve, Snow squared his shoulders and turned his mind away from the suffocating grip of guilt. For now, he had a more pressing concern: finding a solution to Indila's plight and salvaging what remained of their fractured relationship.

Indila was one of a kind, really different from all women Snow had ever met. Not only by her accent, which she never loosened, but there were a lot of other things that set her apart from women in the Capitol. Most women spent their lives trying to look younger. Indila was always trying to look older, a trait Snow knew stemmed from her insecurity about being married to an older man. It was kind of cute how she would always do her best to look fit by his side. When she found her first gray hair, she had her entire hair colored white, "to save time," she would say. It suited her perfectly. She was beautiful at every stage of their lives, stunning in every single moment, with every style of hair, smile, shoes, clothes, or even with the lack of them. The white in her hair perfectly matched the black ribbon she always wore.

Alone in the garden, Snow's mind churned with a turbulent mix of emotions. Despite his outward facade of composure, beneath the surface lay a tempest of anxiety and uncertainty. The events of the day weighed heavily on him, stirring up feelings he had long buried beneath layers of arrogance and pride. As he wandered among the roses, their delicate petals illuminated by the pale moonlight, Snow grappled with the unsettling realization that his control over the situation was slipping through his fingers. Indila's illness, once a distant concern, now loomed ominously on the horizon, threatening to unravel the carefully constructed facade of his perfect life.

For the first time in years, he allowed himself to acknowledge the depth of his feelings for Indila, the fear and desperation that gnawed at his insides at the thought of losing her. And yet, mingled with his fear was a simmering resentment, a bitter reminder of the power she held over him, even in her weakened state. He had loved her, it was true. He had never fallen in love with her, but he loved her. They had spent most of his life together, she was the mother of his children, all three of them, and she had done a great job. They had spent some good times together, even though she had her flaws.

Indila's pride was palpable, her hunger for validation insatiable. Yet, beneath her facade of righteousness lay a counterfeit morality that grated on Snow's nerves. She fancied herself morally superior to him, blind to her own capacity for darkness. In reality, she was no saint. Given the right motivation—motivation not so different from his own—she was just as capable of committing terrible deeds.

Snow couldn't help but chuckle at the irony of it all. They were nothing more than reflections of each other's flaws, their faults mirrored in the other's shortcomings. Despite their differences, they were bound by their shared humanity, their shared capacity for both good and evil. And in that recognition, there was a strange sense of camaraderie, a twisted kinship born of their mutual flaws.

As he gazed up at the stars, their distant light casting shadows across the garden, Snow made a silent vow to himself. He would do whatever it took to ensure Indila's survival, to preserve the facade of his perfect life at any cost. And if that meant resorting to darker, more desperate measures, then so be it. In the game of power and control, there were no rules, no boundaries he would not cross. And as he stood alone in the darkness, a cold determination settled over him like a shroud, masking the vulnerability that lay hidden beneath.

During this moment of contemplation, reality crashed down upon him, flooding his mind with memories of Indila. From the day he first laid eyes on her, young and strong, to the present moment, where her beauty still captivated him. He recalled the day he proposed, the joyous occasion when he told her he wanted Crassus to call her "mom," and the moments of reconciliation after their fights. He remembered the joy they shared when she found out she was pregnant with Elana and Incipium, and how she cherished every moment spent with their children. He thought of her unwavering loyalty and defense of him in any situation, and the look in her eyes every time he gave her one of those roses.

He remembered the soothing melodies that filled their home, the gentle strains of her playing the piano drifting through the air, casting a spell of tranquility over their lives. He recalled the joy in her voice as she sang, her ethereal tones weaving stories of love and longing, wrapping around him like a warm embrace. She was never a performer, she would sing just for the ones she truly loved, and she sang for him many times. Snow treasured the memories of their evenings spent gathered around the piano, their children laughing and clapping along as Indila filled the room with music. He remembered the pride in her eyes as them took their first steps, the love and devotion evident in every lullaby she sang to soothe them to sleep.

There were countless moments of happiness and contentment, like the family picnics in the garden, where they would spread out a blanket and share stories and laughter under the shade of the trees. And then there were the quiet moments, just the two of them, stealing kisses and whispered words of love in the stillness of the night.

With all these scenes running through his head, Snow realized he would miss her. He never thought this could happen, but sharing a life with someone is not something that could be easily forgotten, even for the most stubborn soul. So, there in the garden, making sure nobody was around, Snow cried.