#chitarch

For many years, men were a good stress relief for Chiasa. (Well, perhaps a few women as well, but mostly men), and Plutarch was no exception. Why else had she made that sheer gown for the second quell after parties? Plutarch certainly wasn't an exception there either, thank God that arena Groundbreaking party was retro themed.

What was an exception was laying in his arms like this. They'd started cuddling about a month and a half ago; to be fair, before the first time, he'd told her that her mother was Shougai, the rebel that Snow himself feared, and that she was his mentor. That was a shock, but at least it explained why he thought he underestimated Chiasa.

"Always so mediocre and frivolous... At least you keep your nose out of things you don't understand, unlike your sister..." That was definitely one of her favorite lectures. She was so hard on them as adults, but it wasn't totally her fault.

There was that, of course, and the fact that Chiasa and Plutarch did a little spy interrogation scene to take the edge off. The cuddling was simply aftercare, but he was so comfortable... He still was. Perhaps it wasn't a good idea, but he didn't stop her. She didn't want to stop either... Being wrapped in his arms was so much better than the finest of cotton duvets. Playing with his salt and paprika chest hair had her calm in an instant, and the smile and blush on his face always made her day better.

Today, however, she had a lot on her mind. Proper spring had arrived, and the third quell was on the horizon. She had a vague idea that something big was going to happen... It bothered her, even though she knew she was in the dark for a reason. Things could go either very well or very badly, and she couldn't stand the uncertainty. Perhaps there was one thing she could know for sure.

"Plutarch?"

"Yes, Chiasa?"

"Well, uh..." she started, "I know you have whatever system or plan, but... What would happen if people knew about us? I'm not planning to say anything of course, but... What if?"

"...We won't," he replied, "As long as we don't say anything, it's not something we need to worry about."

She'd noticed that he hesitated, and thought she heard a hint of doubt in his voice. Perhaps she shouldn't overanalyze, but... Had he really not thought of it? Did he not want to?

"But what if we would have to worry about it? You do like to plan for all possibilities."

"Well yes... You're right about that," said Plutarch, "I'd try to get you somewhere safe, of course, Snow's the one to worry about because I don't want anything to happen to you because of me."

"Yes, that's obvious, and I'm thankful you'd go the extra mile for little old me," she said, "But... What about... other people? Like my nephew?"

"Marcus?" he inquired.

It seemed like he really hadn't... There was no telling how Marcus would react. He knew that she liked to date, but his boss and mentor would surely be another story.

"Well... In his case... You know him a bit better than I do, but I've gotten to know him these past few months... He might be an adult, but he's still a teenager," he continued, "It could go either way, but ultimately, I doubt he'd mind."

"Yeah... He's very smart, but he's still eighteen," she agreed, "But... He really looks up to you, you know?"

Plutarch smiled a bit at the thought. Hmm. Her brother in law, Florent, was right about one thing... Marcus needed some more positive male role models. He was fine, but he was often at work. Otherwise, there was only herself and Quinta, and Marcus and the latter didn't get along too well. He was close to her mother, but she'd passed away a couple years back.

As nice as it was to have an answer, why was she even thinking about such a thing in the first place? It wasn't like she and Plutarch were serious. She needed to play this off pronto.

"I don't think the other Heavensbees would have liked me too much, would they?" she joked.

He chuckled. "Let's see... New money, not quite a "proper" lady, a grandfather from District 11, unable to bear heirs... Doubt it. But then again, that might have made me sprint to you as a younger man."

"Ha! I get it... Your rebelliousness had me sprinting to you, after all."

Laughing together took the edge off as well, although it only had them holding each other tighter. Once it died down, Chiasa noticed a certain pensiveness about him.

"Since we're delving into hypotheticals... You've mentioned your children more than once. What would they think of us?" he asked, "I expect the age difference would be a little daunting..."

As long as it was hypothetical.

"They know about my dating habits... After all, men my age tend to be prudes, droopy, or already married," she replied, "So long as you don't assert yourself as a father figure, for the most part, you should be fine."

"Don't worry, I'm not the fatherly type anyway," he quipped.

"Individually... Tenma might be a peacekeeper, but she's in the honor guard," she continued, "Twirls flags and fake guns, marches in fancy formations. The only time she shoots is to salute. I think she's only there to be closer to her husband or avoid being a lady... Otherwise, since you're only a few years older than her, that would be her main issue."

Chiasa and Tenma ended up quite different from one another. She liked flashy fashion, her daughter preferred practical wear. She was a free spirit, Tenma wanted everything settled down and predictable. That was all fine... But perhaps being the oldest molded her a little too well.

"Kamakura, my youngest.... She still has her father in her life. Maybe she'd be a little shocked, but she'd handle it the best. I think she's the one who's the most like me," she continued, "My son, Yves, though... That's a little complicated."

Plutarch's face dropped, but he cleared his throat and tried to stay neutral.

"It's fine if he wouldn't like me," he said, "This is... This is all hypothetical after all."

"Oh, no! It's not that. In other circumstances, I think you'd get along very well," said Chiasa, "You both love your books and theories and you're real go-getters. But... He's just a little more... headstrong than his sisters are. That might be a good thing too... Any problem with him... It wouldn't actually have much to do with you individually."

She sighed deeply and turned to stare at the ornate celing. Yves's paternity was quite the sore topic. Of course he had his uncle and her ex, Theseus, to lean on as potential father figures, but his complicated origins still weighed on her. Keeping the truth quiet was necessary to save everyone's asses, but it wasn't good on anyone's psyches, especially Yvie's when he found out.

As much as she tried to hide it, Plutarch had to know that she was distressed. It was hard to get much past him if he survived this long as a rebel. She recalled telling her son when he was in his late teens... Any pouting or surliness was blamed on teen angst by others. Theseus got a brief account, and he thankfully knew the consequences of it getting out.

She wrestled with telling Plutarch... It wasn't like he'd tell anyone, after all, he didn't tell anyone about her sympathies. Even if he did, people wouldn't believe him... How would he know such a thing anyway? And... It felt unfair to keep this secret. She knew she had every right, but this was a significant part of her past, whether she liked it or not. If she was in too deep or at least getting there... At least she'd have his reaction, his opinion on her at another low... She'd know whether all of this was a mistake. Either way, she still couldn't look him in the eye... She let go of them and turned on her side, facing away from him.

"Chiasa?" he inquired softly.

She felt his warm hand on her shoulder, keeping his presence known. Still... She couldn't face him as she said this. She could barely look at her son or old friend when she told them, and this wasn't any different.

"It's... It's Yves's biological father," she finally replied quietly, "That's the complication. He can be a bit wary of others in that... place."

"His father? But... I thought those old tabloids said you didn't know, as with your eldest," he replied.

"My reputation saved us there, at least. But no... That's not the truth. I knew exactly who it was." Chiasa already felt herself tearing up. Hopefully she’d still be coherent.

She felt Plutarch move a little closer. Perhaps he'd change his tune soon enough, however.

"Was he not a good man? Did he hurt you?" he asked, "Did he hurt him or Tenma?"

Plutarch had a real talent in seeming sympathetic while having enough quiet fury to be plotting the hypothetical bastard's death.

"No, nothing like that..." she replied, "Look... Please know I did what I must to protect my loved ones... And those I felt responsible for."

"I know, me too. I can't blame you for that."

Just rip it off...

"Yves... My son's father is... Is... He's Link Zhou."

Plutarch was silent for a moment, but didn't let go of her. Perhaps that was a good sign.

"The victor from 3?" he asked, "He was one of yours, right? ... One of the first males to be sold."

Chiasa nodded. That "program" was as ghastly then as it was now. Link was a nice looking kid and her dressing him well probably only made things worse.

"It's not what you think," she said, elicting what she believed was a sigh of relief from Plutarch, "There wasn't any preying or anything like that. In any other circumstances, I wouldn't have done anything with him."

"Oh... Well, what really happened?" he asked. Thankfully, she only gauged a bit of curious and concern.

"It was after he'd survived..." she started, "He was nice looking, I guess... And I guess I'd done my job too well. There were a lot of women here with crushes on him... Men too... That other bidder, he was gigantic, snobbish, had a reputation for being rough... Link had only turned nineteen and hadn't been with anybody. I couldn't let him go to that bastard so... I bid."

"I think I see where this is going... Why not fake it?"

"There was word of some people giving some of the early girls a "night off" maybe some of Mother's people back then... They'd started... making sure," she tearfully replied, "Link, he... He was happy to see me. He said he had a crush on me, thought about this during his victory tour... I guess in the moment, that had me feeling less bad, but the next morning... I was disgusted with myself. I couldn't look at him, I slipped out."

By then, Chiasa was sobbing, that morning coming right back to her. The succession of Link sleeping peacefully, the bile in her throat, the way she threw on her clothes and dashed home as quickly as she could... How she nearly scrubbed herself raw twice in the shower as she cried her eyes out in shame. How she wanted to go downtown to find some Molly to relapse with until her sister called to say she was bringing Tenma back home.

Plutarch was still holding her from behind, not saying anything, but letting her know she was there. Shouldn't he be disgusted? She had to take a few minutes to compose herself before going on.

"They were still figuring out the protection... I found out I was pregnant a few weeks later, he was the father... All that guilt, that disgust... It all came back. I kept thinking about what could happen. Would I be kicked out of the Capitol and him entered in the Reaping? Would I be forced to marry Link and keep him from his home and happiness... I'd seen that movie before and wanted no part of it... As you might know. Of course I thought about ending the pregnancy, but... I couldn't go through with it. I made sure to be seen with other men and screwed them... Did whatever I could to look a month behind. Nobody could know... I dread to think what could have happened to the three of us."

"Shit... I think I see where you're coming from," said Plutarch.

"Wait, you do?" she asked, "You're not... appalled, disgusted?"

"It would be a little rich of me to judge," he said, "I mean, I've never done that specifically, but I've crossed a line for the greater good more than once. I do have a question..."

"Yeah?"

"Does he know? Link, I mean."

How simple everything would be if everything just went according to her plan.

"Yes... I didn't so much as tell him as he saw a photo of Yves in my wallet and put two and two together," she replied, "They don't look identical thankfully, but he saw himself in him, he knew... That's what led me to telling Yves. Neither were too happy with me... I let them see each other in person once, but only that, seeing... They wanted to speak but I couldn't allow it. At least... Well, it sunk in how dangerous such a thing was one year."

At least Chiasa didn't cry over that particular memory anymore, but it still hurt her.

"What... Oh. The second quell?" he guessed, "With Beetee's son."

"That's the one. That year was hard enough as it is... I had twice as many people to dress, you remember a lot of things were all over the place... It was always hard when Link was here, but since one of the other victors volunteered for a different District, he had to be... But hell... I styled Beetee. For a while, he was the least troubling one, even with his time in the arena... Then I had to pretty up his kid to be killed? For something his father did, I'd heard..."

She'd since decided to lay on her back once again. Plutarch kept his arm around her and pulled her a little closer. Out of everything she'd said, this seemed to get to him? Not that she could blame him.

"He was so young, so full of life, and of course it had to be Beetee that mentored him. He didn't deserve to go the way he did," Chiasa continued, "The whole time I was thinking... One wrong move and that could have been my Yvie... Link... Well, he did his best with the others, but when he wasn't mentoring, I'd find him sitting alone, staring at nothing... I remember clearly, he said... He said..."

"What did he say?" Plutarch asked gravely.

"Link said... He said that he felt like shit just being around Beetee. That his boy was going to die and his own made the Dean's list at the best university in Panem... He felt stupid, as much as he wanted to know Yvie... He'd never want anything like this to happen to him. I think for the first time, he understood where I was coming from," said Chiasa, "Yvie and I had a pretty big fight after everything was over with... But he got it in the end. He understood the gravity of things... I think that's what led him to teach rather than practice law..."

She suddenly felt a bit exhausted and turned to rest her head against his chest. There were no more tears, but she was still overwhelmed by all these emotions hitting her at once. The arm around her shoulders had moved to her waist, and she felt his other hand in her hair. For what seemed like a long while, neither of them spoke. Despite her many past liasons, and even the ones with him... Chiasa had never felt more exposed. Yet, she wasn't scared. Perhaps it was his gentle touch or his steady heartbeat... But eventually, she was calm. Finally, she moved up to look him in the eye. No recoil, no rage... Not at her, at least... No amusement. His gaze was serious with a hint of sympathy.

"I'm sorry..." she finally said, "That was probably a little more than you bargained for."

"It's fine... I mean, I'm the one who asked all those follow up questions, after all," he replied softly, "Think of it this way... At least you did what you did for the right reasons."

"It was still terrible on both of them..."

"Maybe. But like you said, you did what you had to do," he reassured her as he cupped her cheek, "Your instinct was to rebel if it meant protecting yourself and them. I could never hate you for that... Actually, I have to say, that was rather crafty. It's amazing how you got away with it."

Chiasa expected him to smirk at those words, but instead, he smiled a beautifully genuine smile. Was that adoration of all things in his eyes? It was a wonder how she could tell him such a dark secret and have him look at her this way. Honestly? It was a wonder how easy everything flowed with Plutarch. Perhaps it was because he'd know if she were hiding something. However, he couldn't make her tell him anything. With all her hesitation, her strong will helped her make it this far, and not even a seasoned agent like him would break it so easily. No... She just told him anyway.

Somehow, she deemed him worthy enough, and he'd proved himself by listening and embracing her rather than judging her. It felt odd... Having someone know this much about her and neither running away or turning her in. It felt odd, but nice; perhaps one of the nicest things she'd felt during her many years of living.

"Plutarch...."

"Yes, Chiasa?"

"Thank you..." she said, "You're really, truly... such a wonderful man."

She leaned in for a kiss... Even that seemed a little different today, precise, but also passionate, but so much more than just sensual. It kept her calm, relaxed safe... yet also euphoric. She pulled away in time to catch him lightly blushing. How could one man be so dignified and adorable at the same time... She couldn't help but plant light kisses on both his cheeks, making him blush and smile all the more.

As much as neither of them wanted to let go just yet, they did have to actually get ready to sleep. At least it wouldn't be for long... However, as Chiasa was alone with her thoughts, the reality of the situation started to take over. No matter how happy she was in the moment, things would eventually get complicated. It wasn't as simple as what others what think of them. There was the rebellion, too. Plutarch hadn't told her about any plans, but with the current events, the rationing, the general uproar Katniss was causing, she had a feeling something was going to happen. Her parents had witnessed the same signs decades ago. Then what? Would people start dying? Would Plutarch have to leave her? Would she have to... get involved? Maybe... Did she just now consider it? Helping out once was one thing, but actually joining up? Like him, her nephew, her nephew's girlfriend... And who knew how many others?

Yet... Why did the idea not bother her like it used to? While she wasn't exactly rushing to join, she wasn't as afraid. Hell, any of the complications would be enough to make a lot of sane people run away, perhaps that was why he never married... Not that she could blame him. But why wasn't she running? Maybe it was because her generation actually knew how to handle hardships. Maybe in some twisted way, the good outweighed the bad. She needed to relax again, or she'd never sleep...

She walked out of the bathroom to find Plutarch sitting on the side of the bed already, having put on some sweats. She eyed his discarded black shirt on the floor before picking it up and throwing it over her shoulders. What a soft, breathable material... And big enough to envelop her easily like he did, not to mention it smelled like him... Sophisticated and mossy. For a second, he beamed at such a sight, but suddenly hung his head and his smile dissolved in deep thought.

"Plutarch? Are you okay?" she asked, "Would you rather I not wear this? I know it might be expensive--"

"No, no... Actually... It suits you."

He patted the spot next to him and she sat down. He stiffened for a moment when she rested her head on his shoulder, but relaxed soon after.

"I just have a question," he continued, "Chiasa... Why do you keep coming back to me?"

"Well, I'd say it's obvious, but it seems like something's on your mind."

"Chiasa... I'm not a good person. You deserve better. Why me?"

"Really, well, you're doing your damndest to prove yourself wrong to me," she replied, "I was raised to believe that actions speak louder than words. And... I just told you about the worst things I've ever done. I'm hardly "good" either. Actually... Is anybody in this city?"

Finding a wholly good person in the Capitol was like looking for a floral print in the winter season. As much as Chiasa tried to be better, she was far from perfect. Her father wasn't perfect, even those she considered her friends were deeply flawed in some way.

"You're not wrong about that... Still... How fascinating... Good people like you hardly think they're good... But in reality, you're better than a lot of people I know," he said, "Yes, even after what you told me. The only ulterior motive you had was protecting those two. No bitterness, no revenge, nothing like that. I've done a lot of bad things, and not always for the right reasons... Like it or not, you're better... Too good for me."

As much as she preferred her men to be at least self-aware, this reeked of insecurity to Chiasa. With all the quiet confidence he exuded, it broke her heart to see him sell himself short, especially when he was ultimately doing good. She took his hand.

"Aww, Plutarch, don't say that..." she soothed, "You know I'm here because I want to be. I think you're a man worth being with. Believe me, I've known some absolute bastards in my time... But you're not one of them, you've been good to me. There are plenty of others who would have been that accepting of my past... Or present. You, though... You know the real me, and you like me anyway. And let's talk about you for a second... You're smart, interesting, handsome, brave... You know, I think your heart's a lot bigger than you let on. I don't think anything's much better than that."

"Chiasa, I... I'm flattered you think so highly of me," he replied, a bit flustered, "And I think I should have said this earlier, but... Thank you for telling me your story. I can understand why you'd keep it a secret either way, and I'm honored that you trusted me with it."

As they laid back down, it finally sunk in how true her words to him were.... His as well. She wouldn't have told him all that if she didn't mean it, however... Getting this close was rare, and she hadn't even gotten this far in the past. Even Theseus, even as a friend, didn't know about her rebel sympathies and she still counted that as one of the reasons they broke up. Plutarch had essentially found out by accident, but he was not only accepting, but encouraged her way of thinking as well. He didn't just talk about change either, he was somehow making things happen. She remembered that he once called her strong; a part of her didn't believe him, but it had her feeling all warm and fuzzy that he of all people thought so highly of her.

Then there was tonight... When she told him her darkest secret. She really expected him to at least judge her... After all, rebels and sympathizers alike agreed that whoring out victors was a vile practice... As did she. Even though she'd helped Link avoid a traumatic first night, she hated herself for even partaking. At the same time, however, it didn't seem fair that Plutarch didn't know, and it would have been worse if he found out on his own. He'd embraced her, but didn't quite brush it off; he acknowledged and understood her and somehow, knowing didn't scare him off. Somehow he thought she deserved better than him. He couldn't be more wrong, it should be the other way around. Perhaps if she'd met someone like him in the past, the idea of commitment might not be so daunting to her. She never thought being so safe and comfortable with someone... Well, maybe with a smidge of thrill, would be this... Beautiful.

Dammit.

Oh.... OH

She was falling for him. Chiasa was falling for Plutarch. It felt wonderful, but... Anything could happen, it was awfully inconvenient timing. But she'd live in the moment. That was the philosophy she lived by: Live in the moment, everything passes.

In the growing sea of the Plutarch fandom and all the theories and masterminds and failed revolutions, I really love writing him as human. As much as he tries to prop himself up and push personal feelings to the side, he's still just a guy in the end.

One of the (many) reasons I love the library scene in SOTR is because of how excited he gets when Haymitch understands a reference. From how Capitol society seems to be at that time, that doesn't seem to happen a lot, and it can be isolating.

Speaking of isolation, I've posted about how rebel beliefs can be that as well, particularly for Chiasa. Someone else wrote this incredible post about how it could be even worse for Plutarch, as an active rebel. Sure, he can have friends outside of allies, but they can be lost at any time, and I've written that he did lose someone close to him, and had to pretend that he didn't miss him. In one fic, he can't keep it repressed anymore and ends up breaking down.

The other poster suggested that's the reason he's single as well. He doesn't want to get attached to anyone just to put them in danger. However... As much as he tries to fight it off, Plutarch does get lonely. I think he might have had other flings in the past, but not like how Chiasa ended up. For something that started out as "No strings attached," she was still very caring. She listened to what he had to say and talked plenty, showed him affection outside of sex, held him when he was low... He wasn't really used to any of that, and at one point didn't think he deserved it, but he was a little addicted to the attention, so he kept inviting her back. As much as he kept everything repressed, he had to face his loneliness when he was in District 13 without her. One of the reasons he dove so much into work was to avoid returning to that cold, quiet, isolating compartment. Being around other couples that were fortunate enough to stay together wasn't easy for him... Though he was able to channel his own feelings into Finnick and Annie's wedding.

When Plutarch was able to see Chiasa again, he wouldn't let her out of his sight (Particularly with how hostile D13 could be to Capitol civilians) and made it clear he wanted to be with her. He didn't want to feel that lonely ever again and realized how much he missed and needed all those years.

Anyway... I've ranted about loneliness, but let's talk more about Plutarch as a human, because that's exactly why Chiasa falls for him. Hell, she even thinks he's physically attractive because he looks like a human being (As opposed to whatever Capitol body mods are in). Sure, again, the whole thing starts out as a friends with benefits situation, and she finds the idea of doing a rebel thrilling... But falling in love with him is another story.

Maybe he could sell her the idea of a hero, but who knows how that would go... After all, Chiasa canonically sees through the Capitol's bullshit and has been with enough men to be able to tell if one is peacocking... And she hates that. While Plutarch obviously can't talk about his plans, and she can't talk the whole time, there are other things... With that, he's not simply a rebel mastermind to her, he's a man. A man who's understanding of her beliefs and past, a man with big dreams for the future, a man who loves books and still longs for his filmmaking days, a man who loves his coffee and eggs in the morning, a man whose voice she could listen to all day... A lonely man in need of companionship, as much as he doesn't admit it. She was a goner.

Really, a lot of his humanity is touched on in my Post-Mockingjay fics; Plutarch crashes out a little once he's alone with someone he trusts at the end of a busy day (Well... Busy and hard few months if we want to be accurate), he's nervous about meeting Chiasa's kids because he's aware of how important they are to her (And they're not likely to be subject to schmoozing, knowing their mom), he still has to be reminded to eat from time to time, he's excited to teach Chiasa about the books and theories that inspire him.

- Chiasa's been around the block enough times to know what she likes and doesn't like. That, with a dash of charm and awareness of how attractive she is culminates in her being pretty confident in her sexuality. She's not afraid to go after what she wants. Plutarch had heard about her reputation and was a bit taken aback by it up close, but was honestly into it. It certainly was a nice respite from the pearl-clutching prim and proper types he was used to.

- Their first hook up was an "afternoon/evening delight" a week after that New Year's Eve. (Honestly, they probably would have then if they weren't interrupted). Chiasa did measure Plutarch as promised, being so close quickly devolved... It wasn't tender at all, it was very irreverent and more about breaking the tension than anything... Not that it wasn't great 😉 It truly was always the quiet ones, and at least some of the rumors about her were true.

- Chiasa wore lingerie for herself already, but likes surprising and teasing Plutarch with it too. When she knew she was going to see him, she'd make sure to pick something different out. She does design it too on occasion... Perhaps after the rebellion, he might ask her for a private fashion show. Or she'll gladly offer.

- Of course I have to touch on this as a card carrying member of the "Plutarch deserves to get laid after the rebellion" movement, it was his idea to make love in Snow's bed. He wanted a little more petty revenge for Snow's tendency to barge into his house over the years. Chiasa joked that they were doing the bed a service, since it probably hadn't seen true passion in years, if ever. She lamented a bit about going gray and being in plain, mismatched underwear rather than looking her best for him, but he was happy to even be with her again. They still count that night as one of the best and most intense.

- They like to role play. Even their first time was a play on Chiasa's accidental double entendre about Plutarch frisking her. They've also done a "spy vs spy" interrogation scene after she made a quip about how if he were a "raven," she'd fold immediately to have him. She has mentioned how during the rebellion, she used to dream about him rescuing her and whisking her away, so that's probably on the horizon. He seems like he might be open to Professor/Student, especially if it incentivizes her to actually read more.

- Chiasa LOVES playing coy and can be a bit bratty from time to time. She's a huge tease and loves riling Plutarch up, especially if it ends with her being pinned down with his full weight on top of her.

- Chiasa's said near the beginning that she loves Plutarch's deep voice, and boy would he use that to his advantage... He feels free to be vocal around her, maybe growl a little... Maybe he teases her by getting close to her and whispering the most mundane things in her ear. *Something something that "We should have Chinese for dinner" incorrect quote in mind*

- As playful as they can be with each other, there are times where they are reverent in bed. As much as Plutarch says he's not ashamed of his body, Chiasa just wants to "make sure" from time to time through some massages, caresses, and kisses. (Plus she's always been into freckles and just wants to kiss them all 🤭) He's sure to return the favor, feeling about guilty about emotional labor and wanting to express his equal devotion and gratitude... Whispered praise as they go slow and helping her bathe would be his favorites.