XXIII. Desperate Measures

At this voice saw I many little flames
From step to step descending and revolving,
And every revolution made them fairer.

Lucien Snow. 26.
First Son of Panem.
Tw. brief mentions of prostitution and child abuse

He wakes in the bed of a stranger, hair disheveled and limbs wrapped close to his chest like a ball. The sweet scent of a vanilla crème candle fills the air, and the crystal chandelier over his head casts a shadow over the room, barely light enough that Lucien can make out the woman about a yard to his left, Esmerelda. Her multicolor hair's somehow managed to maintain its intricately braided arrangement and hardly any of her makeup's been smudged on her lavender pillowcase.

Notably, they're both fully clothed, a genuine relief to Lucien who spent the five minute walk from his father's ballroom to Esmerelda's apartment in a nervous sweat, trying to sway his mind from concocting elaborate scenarios of what she'll possibly do to him behind closed doors. No, she's still draped in her decadent getup from the previous night, and while it's true, Lucien's suit is crumpled into a ball on the ground beside him, his skin is shielded by a pair of silk pajamas. That's also a relief; the suit fit him a bit too tightly. That, and it reminded him far too much of his father.

But then again, wherever Lucien goes, it seems like Coriolanus is watching over him like some omnipresent force, following his every move and laughing at each and every one of his missteps. Even last night, despite the fact there was no way his father would ever know what Lucien did, or rather what he didn't do, he couldn't help but feel like the next time he saw his father, he'd be sent back to the basement and be forced to beg for mercy.

And even now, with Esmerelda asleep, he feels a bit of guilt.

Which is stupid, since she never wanted to sleep with Lucien at all, just recognized his father's degeneracy and thought it would be a viable method to get him away from the man. Unfortunately, she was correct, which truly emphasizes Coriolanus' utterly horrendous nature. But enough on that, Lucien knows that no words in the English language could properly be strung together to emphasize just how awful his father is. There's little use trying.

Esmerelda wakes up no more than ten minutes after him, a besmirched expression rising on her face once her eyes meet Lucien's. She takes a deep breath, then says, "I'm so sorry again for last night."

You better be, he laughs to himself, nearly scared the life out of me! But really, Lucien does recognize that such drastic means were necessary in order for Esmerelda to be successful in separating him from Coriolanus, yet that still doesn't change how damn afraid I was.

It cannot be emphasized enough how lucky he is, and how glorious the wave of relief that cascaded over his head was once Esmerelda announced to him that she had absolutely no intentions of forcing him to touch her. Immediately after her apartment door shut behind her, she'd told him, "Don't worry. I'm not here to hurt you. I know you're not okay."

And at that moment, all Lucien could do was nod, and then move his lips to mimic the words, "I've got no idea what you mean. Whatever you want to do to me, just get it over with."

"Well I want to protect you," Esmerelda had said, gesturing for him to sit beside her on the sofa, "Your cousin Tigris told me everything."

Tigris. Lucien hates that he can't loathe her even after she delivered him back to his father. His life's not one that deserves to be preserved whilst another ends, not again at least. But as wrong as it is for him to think as such, Lucien still wishes even now that Tigris by some stroke of luck made the choice to keep him even if it meant getting screwed over by Coriolanus. That's selfish of him though, and considering how frequently Lucien's tiptoed on death's doorstep, selfish is the last thing he should be. It's a vice he unfortunately shares with his father, but everyone has their flaws when push comes to shove, and it's not like Lucien can reveal his since he's learned to be careful with his communications, as they've been limited ever since the incident.

Lucien sighs, messing around with his hair then mouthing, "It's fine. I appreciate your kindness regardless."

It was wrong of him to believe that Tigris would fully let him to the wolves, Lucien realizes this now. She just had to be… more discreet about protecting him, which meant letting him be victim to his father's harsh words for a few months as she concocted a way to free him. It's as genius as it is completely and horrendously fucked-up. He was shocked to hear Esmerelda tell him about her and Tigris' group of Capitolites who abhor Coriolanus Snow, and the conspiracies regarding Lucien's well-being or lack thereof. But it was refreshing too, knowing not everyone believes his father's bullshit lies. He no longer has the privilege of telling his father that his ideas are dumb, but that wouldn't have ended well anyway.

"It's not kindness, Lucien," Esmerelda says, getting out of the bed and beginning to stretch, "it's a revolution. Or at least, it's the beginning of one."

The word "revolution" sits acrid on his tongue. While it's nice knowing there's people on his side, a full scaled effort to end his father seems like overkill. But it's not just about me, Lucien reminds himself, it's about my mother, and Lysistrata and Clemensia… and lord knows who else he's wronged. And that's not even mentioning the literal death pageant he sponsors every year. It's just hard for him to have hope that any change can be made, especially when his father's the prime target. As despicable as he is, the man's equally resilient.

He won't go down easy, and Lucien isn't sure he wants to be at the forefront in the occasion that he does. But he's getting far too ahead of himself. He doesn't even know what his role is in this whole grand ordeal yet. He was too shocked last night to ask Esmerelda any questions about his own involvement in the cause.

So he decides to ask now, mouthing, "and where do I come in?"

"We're unsure," she admits, looking over at the mirror on her bedside table and fixing her hair, "Tigris told me that you're not much of a fighter, so you're not going to be on any theoretical battlefields if that's what you're worried about. Mainly, we just want you to be aware of this as we continue to recruit more potential insurgents, because once shit happens, no matter how far in the future that is, shit is really going to happen."

All the vagueness is irritating to him. The talk of possible war and being made into some sort of symbol against is father is harrowing too, since Lucien's still afraid. Somehow, he's more afraid than he was last night when he thought he'd loose his bodily autonomy to her, because this hypothesized change seems so brilliant, yet he knows it'll never be a reality. Pessimism is another one of Lucien's vices, and unfortunately it's not one he shares with Coriolanus, no, his father's far too optimistic about his legacy of corruption.

"I appreciate the notice then," Lucien mouths, now out of the bed himself 'cause he'll likely have to go back to Coriolanus soon, "but I don't want to be turned into a human piece of propoganda."

"You won't be," Esmerelda attempts to reassure him, "I just personally believe that if other potential rebels know the First Son is on their side, they'd be more likely to join our cause."

"But then what if my father finds out?" His lips tremble as they form the words, his posture shaking with fear, "Then he kills us all, and I don't reckon I'll be safe this time."

"Fair enough," she says, her voice still unbelievably calm, "promise me we'll keep in touch though?"

"How?"

"Well as far as your father's concerned, we just had five hours of passionate sex," Esmerelda laughs at her own joke, "so next time I need to talk you, I can just give him a call."

It's decent enough reasoning, but still Lucien can't bring himself to fully trust her, even if she did grant him the most peaceful night of sleep he's had in years. That's another vice, paranoia, and it's one his father also possesses. He worries that his father will see his success with Esmerelda and loan him out to somebody else for pleasure, but he'll do his best to not think about that.

"I'll see you when I see you then," Lucien mouths, "and maybe next time Tigris'll join us? I'd love to have a few words with her if you don't mind."

"I can try to arrange that," Esmerelda pats him on the back once, then twice, "In the meantime, just think over everything I told you about the rebellion. I think you'd really benefit from it in particular."

He can't deny her that, but Lucien's still horrified. In a way, he didn't; hate having his future sealed to nothing but desolation. It meant he'd never have to get his hopes up ever again, and eventually he'd just burn and rot. Never did he think he'd ever have anything he wanted to fight for, as wary as he is regardless.

But cautious optimism is still optimism, and that's something Lucien Snow can hold onto for now.

I realize this chapter is smol but I feel like it says what it needs to say, and the two other povs this chapter were written yet felt extraneous so they've been cut xx. Sorry it's smol, I guess? But also last week was massive so I don't feel too bad!

I hope Lucien's lil moment was exciting for u, um things are heating up, or rather they will be in like two decades but everything starts somewhere

Next week is the launch, and that's going to be deeply entertaining I hope, but I'll bid y'all adieu for now.

Fuck this shit, I'm out,
Linds