He rarely entered the Rose Garden, although he wished he did more. Many matters were discussed within these bright and fragranced walls of foliage- many secrets were held in latticed thorns.
However, it was only by Presidential decree that a person could enter the Garden, given its location within the Presidential Mansion itself, and for Caesar these were so few and far between that each visit became an exceptional and potentially dangerous return.
So he stood in the scented labyrinth of the Capitol's heart, waiting to be addressed.
"Caesar Flickerman." Caesar's job was his voice, so he knew other voices just as well as his own. The voice that greeted him was aged and calm, crackling around the edges but carrying a line of dignified confidence, a line that few people could tread with assurance. It was the voice of a statesman, and Caesar knew it well. He turned, inclining his head respectfully to his superior. He was not known for solemn expressions of respect, but he changed what he needed to of his being for whatever he needed to represent.
"President Snow, it is an honour."
"I am glad to hear it." Snow seemed disinterested in the honour divulged by their meeting. Peacekeepers in black hardshell armour shadowed them carefully as he lead the way through the sunlit gardens. "Your show is incredibly popular, Flickerman. I trust you realise this."
"Without a doubt- ratings typically give indications of eighty percent of the population watching."
"An impressive number, which was why we entrusted you in recent years with the broadcast of the Hunger Games coverage."
Caesar felt a thorn brush his hand, not breaking the skin but leaving a scraped mark where it had touched.
"A trust," Caesar said, "I hope you feel is well-placed."
Snow had been mostly regarding the path of the sunlight filtering through glossy leaves, but at this point he ceased walking and turned to address Caesar.
"I have no reason to doubt your loyalty to your government, Caesar. You have served the Capitol well both as its commentator and as its Games figurehead." There was an implied 'but' in the sentence somewhere, and it hung heavily in the muggy air around them. The scent of roses was sweet and cloying. "But now, I must ask you not to place your loyalty in your government."
Caesar remained outwardly passive. "And where would you ask I placed it instead?"
Snow did not answer. "Are you aware of your security clearance having been raised, Caesar?"
"I was made aware, sir."
"Level seven. You're on equal standings with the Head Gamemaker, and almost on par with the Security Chief. You are entrusted with, I believe, far more than you should be. How much have you read of your newly authorised information?"
Caesar was not sure what answer was Snow's preferred one. He had not had the opportunity to access a secure server and read any of it yet, however, and he was limited in will to lie to the President. "None of it so far, sir." Snow nodded, seemingly satisfied by the answer. It was now, when his own questions had been answered, that Snow deigned to answer Caesar's.
"I ask you to place your trust in me, Caesar, and soley in me." Caesar frowned lightly, forgetting his performance mask for a moment.
"For what purpose?"
Snow regarded Caesar cooly for a moment, appearing to weigh his response as one would weigh flour for bread.
"Caesar," he responded, "You have, I understand, heard of the new arena's controversy without being made aware of its nature."
"..Yes." He had his little birds around the Capitol, but none could get themselves into a position where the information would be divulged- no matter how much alcohol and stronger matters Caesar and his birds plied people with.
"I have no intent to divulge this information to you either; you are an entertainer, and furthermore, within these walls your reputation precedes itself as someone with a proclivity for dealing in- secrets."
Damn. "I understand, sir."
"But understand me. You place your trust in me- and I will tell you this. From most recent polls, the understanding is that the arena is not the natural progression from the Quell we had hoped for. It will not be merely extravagant- it will shock. Your job, your job for me- is to assuage the people. To smooth tension. To do so, and to do so with subtlety. Am I understood?"
Caesar did not like this. Everything about this screamed that he was about to face a public unrest he was not prepared to deal with; and if he could not deal with it, he would be the one blamed for any civil disobedience.
This was nothing he had ever seen debated, especially not at the highest level, and now it rested on his shoulders to ensure nothing happened.
Caesar nodded, because he knew there was only one answer he could give the President. "Yes, sir."
Snow nodded. In this moment, Caesar couldn't help wondering how this old man could wield so much power over himself, over the Capitol, over the world he knew.
He couldn't help wondering how Snow had become the President. He couldn't recall why he was. He couldn't recall if anyone had ever told him.
Snow looked over Caesar. "You have too much interest in secrets for my liking. However, if you serve me well in this- you could prove a worthy ally to me."
Caesar did have an interest in secrets. He knew what happened to the allies of Snow that he felt dangerous enough to potentially supplant him.
He had stood close enough to Snow to smell the blood on his breath.
"It would be an honour, sir." And in that moment, their eyes betrayed one another. They stood in perfect understanding of each other, silent and aware of the animosity they shared.
The silence hung in the muggy air once more. Caesar resolved he would rather die by the gun of a Peacekeeper than by willingly drinking Snow's poison, and readied himself to run through thorns to escape.
Snow nodded carefully. Caesar realised he was not about to die- he knew the motions of a clever man. He needed to.
"Place your trust in me, Flickerman." Snow regarded him for a moment, then motioned to the black-clad Peacekeepers shadowing him. The female one turned around, the male one backed slightly and regarded Caesar as Snow placed his back to him and walked back to the Presidential Mansion.
The male Peacekeeper, a shadow in the light of the Rose Garden, silently escorted Caesar outside.
When Caesar found himself in the cool air of the city streets, he took a breath.
He had seen Snow, and Snow had seen him. There had been a moment of candid understanding of the other's motives- and Snow had let him live.
Caesar worried his bottom lip between his teeth. He had been left in the dark as to Snow's decision; and he realised that now his only choice for survival was to do as instructed and to place his trust soley in Snow.
The clever bastard.
Caesar smoothed back his hair and placed on his customary smile. With that, he walked back to the studios through the crowd.
He said nothing as he went.
I apologise for the delay in this chapter; I thought being off ill would have given me the opportunity to finish and upload this quickly, but we had a fairly major electrical fault in the house. Long story short, we have a large generator placed outside the house for the interim, and I'll upload a second chapter tonight to make up for the delay if everything remains working.
As ever, thanks for reading this far.