Chapter Text
Mistakes: Alara
The day may have started out rocky, but Alara has finally hit her stride in the wake of Voltaea’s public embarrassment in the cafeteria. We’ll just have to make sure this was a learning experience for you, darling. After graciously allowing Selica to feed her lunch and talk her out of storming onto the training floor, she’s managed to: officially set up the alliance between her tributes and Seven’s, eavesdrop on the girl from One, and correct the terrible job she’d done on her makeup this morning in the lounge bathroom. Mostly, anyways. Halfway through reapplying her eyes, Selica’s voice cuts through her focus - “Alara dear, are you going to be much longer?”
Alara sighs, frustrated both by the distraction and the shaking in her hand that keeps slowing her work down. “I don’t know - but it would be quicker if you didn’t interrupt, why?”
She turns around to see Selica grinning ear-to-ear in the doorway behind her - “Our girls are fighting, I thought you might want to watch.” Gods, I leave for ten minutes and you’re already off-script again. Tossing everything in her purse, Alara flies out of the bathroom after Selica.
A minute later, they’re crammed side-by-side in the oversized recliner - eyes glued to the camera feed. Alara’s heart leaps back into her throat when she spots her girl stepping onto a platform where Cymbria already waits with knives in hand. Voltaea’s weapon of choice turns out to be a small handaxe - no doubt that ogre girl’s influence - Alara struggles against a churning in her stomach at the thought. “Give me that earpiece again, I want to hear what’s happening.” She holds out a hand to Selica.
“I’m going to just imagine you said please -” Selica mutters as she hands Alara the device.
She slips it into her ear and an unfamiliar voice crackles through the speaker - “Two… One… Fight!” Alara barely has time to process that the fight has started when Cymbria takes the first swing, and for a moment, after Voltaea deftly avoids the hit - she actually thinks her girl might have a chance. That hope is quickly extinguished by Voltaea’s wild swing in return - it’s clumsy, poorly-aimed, and leaves her completely exposed as she stumbles forward. Cymbria’s knife is at her throat before Voltaea even regains her balance. Gods, what a mess. Alara’s chest tightens.
“And you’re dead.” Voltaea’s face scrunches at Cymbria’s words and for a moment she looks off to the side as if she’s contemplating an early exit. It hurts her to watch. You don’t have to fight her, my sweet. There’s safer ways to wipe that smirk off her face.
Selica elbows her playfully - “I told you Cymbria was good, didn’t I?”
Alara scowls at her - her competitive spirit blazing to life in the face of her co-host’s taunting, “It’s one round, don’t get ahead of yourself.” But I suppose you could keep going, just to shut her up. She’s torn between pride and nerves when Voltaea prompts the girl for another fight.
The second round lasts longer, but it ends with Voltaea going down - hard - slamming against the mat as Cymbria seizes an opening to trip her and put the knife to her throat once more. Selica cackles loudly in her ear - it takes every ounce of self-control she has not to slap her. Get up, Voltaea! I know you’re better than this!
“Maybe you’re the one who needs to stop getting ahead of yourself.” Selica giggles beside her and Alara shoots her a scathing glare - it just earns a bigger laugh in response. “You can’t pull that look off with just one finished eye.” Fuck!
Alara turns back to the screen, flushed and frustrated - adjusting a section of her curls so they fall over her half-finished makeup job. Some of the tension melts off her shoulders when Voltaea wrestles herself to her feet - though it seems to be a painful process. Her voice doesn’t betray any of that - it’s flat, cool, almost calm when she says; “Again.” That’s my girl! The two square off once more - Voltaea looking wrecked and determined in equal measure. Cymbria tries to taunt her but she ignores it - Alara clenches her fists as Voltaea closes her grip around the axe once more. Just get her once today, darling. We need a win.
Before the instructor can finish the countdown, Voltaea takes off - swinging the axe and missing wide as the other girl shifts. She can barely keep track of their movements - Voltaea somehow manages to knock both of their weapons out of their hands in a clumsy attempt at a disarm - “Oh for fucks sake…” Alara mutters under her breath as Selica lets out another self-satisfied cackle beside her.
Voltaea pounces - they both gasp as she yanks Cymbria’s hair back and a loud “Fuck!” cracks through the earpiece. Alara’s heart pounds and a hot flush creeps into her cheeks - so you do have it in you! Good girl. Cymbria manages to sweep her again - she loses her grip, but she’s more prepared this time. The two grapple against each other, wrestling for the upper hand - there’s a loud slam as Cymbria presses her into the mat again. No, shit, we were so close! She grabs the knife, hovering over Voltaea and pinning both her arms under her legs. Alara flinches - her girl lies still, with an unreadable expression.
Cymbria declares herself the winner - she gloats while Alara seethes and silently urges Voltaea to regain some kind of dignity. At least stand up, darling, this is agonizing. Instead, Voltaea rips her arm free and bites the other girl - it’s the proudest Alara has ever felt of anyone besides herself. Forget all my critiques, that was a perfect finish. She turns to Selica who immediately rolls her eyes upon seeing the massive grin on Alara’s face. “That was cheap.”
“ You’re cheap - That was a beautiful comeback and you know it.” Alara bites back to another eye roll from her co-host. They watch side-by-side in cold silence as their tributes face off and shake hands - reaffirming their tentative truce. Alara hands Selica back her earbud when it becomes clear that all she’s going to be hearing is Cymbria’s stale taunting and an unsettling amount of heavy breathing. She leaves the fighting area with her sidekick in tow. Alara glances at the clock - there’s less than an hour and a half left in training - plenty of time to pull a plan together. She rises to her feet, gathering her bag from beside the chair.
Selica deliberately stretches out across the entire chair as soon as Alara is off of it. “Going to fix your face?”
“I’m going back to my suite.”
Selica scoffs at her - “You’ve been preoccupied with this girl’s every move all day and now you’re just going to take off before we even have a chance to plan tomorrow’s show?”
Alara shrugs, “I know what lessons I need to teach her, and I doubt she’s going anywhere quickly in the state she’s in.” She gestures to her girl on screen - now sitting in a circle with her allies, slowly tying knots and looking completely glazed over.
There’s a long sigh from her co-host “Can you at least promise you’ll be in the studio by eleven?”
“Of course. Eleven-thirty, at the latest.” Selica opens her mouth to argue but Alara starts towards the door before she can get the first word in. It’s important to take those small victories. She mouths a silent goodbye to her girl as she waits for the elevators, stepping inside as soon as the doors rush open and quickly pushing the button to shut them behind her. It’s a quiet ride to her floor, but that just leaves extra room for her thoughts to race. She’d been genuinely worried for Voltaea’s safety several times throughout the day - my heart might explode if she starts tinkering with live explosives. She’d also seen real, tangible proof of her girl’s ability to push through under pressure - that’s what I need to encourage, less recklessness - more outlasting the rest.
She steps off the elevator as it comes to a halt. Orville is already back from his sponsor lunch - she spots him sitting on the sofa furiously scribbling notes onto a clipboard. Alara clears her throat and he drops the entire thing onto the floor - “Oh!” He stands up, straightening out his suit as he speaks - “I didn’t realize you were coming back early today, or I’d have been better prepared.”
“It’s fine,” she waves dismissively - there’s too much to do to bother tormenting him - “How are we faring with sponsorships so far?”
“We’ve actually done very well in comparison to some of our previous attempts - hang on I have the numbers here -” Orville bends to grab the clipboard from the floor and flips through a few pages. “There it is - in the two days after the parade we’ve pulled in almost the amount we started the games with last year. As it turns out it’s been easy to sell the girl who attacked someone on the first day as a contender, and the boy really helps to soften our image around the edges. Though now that I think of it, last year was a slow year for sponsorships, let me look up a better one - ”
Alara cuts him off - “Don’t worry about the exact numbers, Orville, I was looking for a quick explanation. Keep doing what you’ve been doing, I suppose - it seems to be working well enough.” She turns to leave, pausing at the edge of the lounge - “I’ll need you to drop off a dinner cart around eight. With wine… and something sweet - you’ll think of something I’m sure. Just have it there on time and don’t call unless something’s on fire - I need absolute quiet tonight.”
“Of course, I-” she doesn’t hear the rest of his sentence because she’s already walking towards her suite - stripping off the dress she’s wearing the second she walks through the door and heading for the closet to find something more eye-catching. She catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror and scowls at her half-finished makeup and dark circles - Ugh, who let me walk around like this all day? She settles on a short, opalescent one-shoulder dress that's easy to slip in and out of and makes for the shower - I’m just going to have to start over.
It takes her far longer than she’d planned to get herself in order. Redoing her makeup alone takes forty minutes, and she spends a fair amount of time leaning up against the shower wall trying to drown her thoughts in hot water. By the time she returns to the lounge and grabs a drink at the bar, the elevator is already pulling in. Her heart jumps when she looks up from her drink and sees her girl walk out - barely walking, still perfect of course . She’s covered in sweat and sways unsteadily with every step and seems to clench her jaw tighter every time the boy behind her speaks - but she’s wearing nothing but determination on her face in spite of it all. Alara smiles at her when their eyes meet and Voltaea immediately softens in response .
Showtime. Deciding to abandon her drink in favor of getting her night underway, Alara stands up from the barstool and starts walking back to her room. She motions - just once, without a word - for Voltaea to follow her. Let’s see how ready to listen you are tonight. There’s no movement behind her, she slows her pace to give her girl a chance to respond. Nothing. So you’re not so ready after all? A knot forms in her chest as she reaches the door, pausing for a moment until she hears rapid footsteps approaching and breaths a heavy sigh of relief - gods, I have to stop doubting myself so much, it can’t be healthy.
Voltaea is visibly winded when she reaches her, breathing rapidly and leaning against the wall to hold herself up. She still attempts a smile that sets Alara’s chest on fire and makes her breath catch in her throat - If I don’t get her back after all this is over, I might set the entire world on fire. There’s a deafening silence as Alara composes herself. It’s suddenly far too warm in here. She tries to play it off like she’s taking in the scenery in front of her with a half-smile - desperate is a terrible look on me.
She pulls herself together enough to perform - “And here I thought you weren’t going to come.”. It’s honesty cloaked in a thick layer of sarcasm.
Voltaea’s next words catch her completely off guard - “I’ll always come for you.”
Oh? Alara immediately bursts into laughter - Those are bold words; I don’t think you know what you’re getting into. She wraps one arm around Voltaea’s midsection and takes a deep breath to get herself under control - focus - “We’ll get to that later, darling. I’d imagine you probably want me to fix you up first?” Her girl looks completely lost, like she didn’t hear any of it - she nods anyway. Alara pulls her inside and shuts the door behind them, striding across the room with her girl half-leaning on her for support.
They stop in front of the couch and Alara shifts to wrap her other hand around Voltaea and guide her into a seated position - she makes a muffled noise of pain when her back presses against the couch - “Just sit for a moment - I’ll get you something for the pain before we get a look at what the damage is. I’d be surprised if you didn’t take at least a few scrapes in that fight” Voltaea flinches at the mention of her fight - she tips her head to rest against the back of the couch as Alara releases her grip and stands.
As she slides off to gather supplies, Voltaea groans from behind her - “Can you fix the rest of me too? I feel like I’m dying.”
“I’ll do what I can, darling.” Alara calls over her shoulder, rummaging through her drawer for her stash box and pulling out a few chemical helpers. “One for pain, one for nausea, one for nerves. ” It’s a similar spread to what she’d taken throughout the day, and she feels… well, not great by any means - but better than if she’d done nothing. .
After pouring a glass of water from the bathroom sink she returns to where Voltaea is sitting, “Here, take these - and make sure you finish that glass of water. You look like you desperately need it.” Alara hands her the medicine and watches in silence as she downs the whole handful in one go with a grimace. “Good girl - lean forward for me, would you?” She shifts - Alara reaches down, grabbing the bottom of her shirt to pull it upward when Voltaea gasps and stops her in her tracks.
Alara looks up at her; she’s flushed an angry red, averting her eyes in shame - “Please don’t, I’m disgusting right now -” Completely ridiculous.
“Don’t start. Self-loathing will get you nowhere with me.” Alara lowers her voice to a soothing whisper - “I just need to see your back, I’m worried you might have bruised there when you hit the mat.” Voltaea shifts her gaze back to meet Alara’s, pausing for a moment before nodding and slowly lifting her arms above her head. Much better.
She peels the shirt off of her girl in one deft motion and tosses it onto the floor. Sliding into place on the couch, she slips her claw-tipped hand over Voltaea’s shoulder and presses her nails gently into it to guide her forward. To her relief, there’s not much damage to speak of; a small, timid looking bruise on her tailbone, a slightly angrier one on her right shoulderblade, and some light scuffing on both elbows. “Barely a scratch on you” Alara leans forward and plants a brief, soft kiss near the nape of her neck before guiding her back upright, “I do have a good cream somewhere you can use for the muscle aches, though I’d wait until after you shower.”
“Oh, right.” Voltaea sighs heavily - “This means I have to get up again, doesn’t it?”
“I’m afraid so.” Alara rises first and helps her girl to her feet with considerable effort. “But I promise you’ll feel much better after some hot water.” Voltaea sways unsteadily for a moment before finding her bearings and giving a weak nod. She stands there staring expectantly at Alara for a long moment - What are you waiting for? She sits back down on the sofa and makes a gesture toward the bathroom. “Off you go, darling.”
Voltaea opens her mouth like she wants to say something but thinks better of it, turning on her heels and making for the door. She pauses at the threshold and looks back over her shoulder, chewing nervously on her lip. Cute, but I still need you to get on with it. Alara smiles and purrs - “Do you need my assistance with something or are you just enjoying the view?” Voltaea’s cheeks burn scarlet and her eyes go wide as she whips around and pushes into the bathroom, quickly shutting the door behind her. Too easy.
Alara waits on the couch until she hears the shower running faintly in the distance, then heads straight for her bed, sprawling across the top of the sheets and lighting herself a cigarette to pass the time. After a few seconds of bored silence, she starts to flip through the channels on the television to find something worth watching. Shopping channel? - no, is that a cooking show? - absolutely not, soap operas? - perhaps if I wasn’t currently living in one. She stops dead on a news broadcast where the two commentators are discussing something animatedly in front of a looping reel of Voltaea attacking Marcelus at the parade - We’re still newsworthy, bravo! She scowls a little when they replace the loop with a video of Pontius, the stylist responsible, being escorted by a trio of peacekeepers out of his studio and looking very undignified throughout the whole ordeal. Apparently - the host emphasizes this comes from an anonymous source who may or may not be trustworthy - he’s been fired for providing a tribute with a weapon, and there’s discussion of changes to the styling guidelines for next year's games to emphasize that costumes should not have the ability to harm contestants. That last bit brings her smile back - Ha! I was right, we did leave our mark.
She finishes her cigarette, looks over her face in a hand mirror, adjusts her dress, fidgets, watches, waits . If you could just hurry it up a bit. Her eyes wander to her dresser and she contemplates - no, I’ve had more than enough of that for now. Her teeth itch, her thoughts race, she tries to catch back up to whatever the newscasters are saying but none of it seems interesting enough to keep her occupied. The bathroom door creaks open just as she goes to flip through the channels again - she tosses the remote and props herself up in a more photogenic pose.
Voltaea steps out in a different robe than usual; one of the red ones - I pull the color off better, but it’s cute that you’re trying to get my attention. Her eyes wander nervously around the room, to the television, back to herself, avoiding looking anywhere near the bed. I hate waiting. “Are you feeling any better, my sweet?” Alara breaks the silence and their gazes lock. Better.
“A little bit.” she shrugs, shifting nervously on the spot but not moving from it.
Alara gestures to a spot on the bed beside her. “Are you going to come and tell me what you’ve learned today?”
She doesn’t have to ask twice - Voltaea nods quickly and skates across the room to the other side of the bed. She hoists herself onto it, rearranging the pillows and stretching herself into a comfortable position. She groans again and drapes an arm over her head, covering most of her eyes - “I don’t hurt as much, but I still feel pretty sick.”
Alara waits a beat, then leans down to whisper softly in her girl’s ear - “And whose fault is that?” She traces a single, clawed fingertip down the back of her spine while she speaks.
Voltaea shudders. At first there’s a stiffness in her muscles but it melts away by the third vertebrate the nail scrapes over. Her voice is breathy, slightly panicked - “When I took that stuff, I didn’t know I’d feel like this after…” You seem to be incredibly short-sighted about a lot of things today, but I’ll set that straight.
Alara lets her finger trace back upward until she reaches the back of her girl’s head - she wraps her hand around, tilting it gently to the side. Her whisper is sharper this time - “And what should you do when you don’t know something?” She leans closer and traces her lips gently over Voltaea’s earlobe to another soft gasp.
“Um…” Hesitating. “I should… look it up somewhere?” That's… not quite what I was looking for. Alara stops abruptly and tilts the girl’s head back to face her, wearing an unimpressed look. There’s silence for a moment as Voltaea scans her face like she thinks she’s going to find the right answer somewhere in her contouring. Then finally - “I should… ask?” There it is.
Alara smiles, nods, bends - she trails a few deliberately delicate kisses from her girl’s collarbone back to her ear. As she reaches it, she bites. It’s barely a nibble, but apparently it’s enough to draw a sharp, breathless curse from Voltaea’s throat before she lets go. “So if you have the bright idea to take something you know nothing about again-” She digs her nails harder into the back of her scalp to make the point stick . “-what will you do first?”
The answer comes quick this time, in spite of all the squirming - As it turns out I’m an excellent teacher - “Ask?”
“Good girl.” Alara plants a last kiss right at the scarred part of Voltaea’s collarbone and the poor thing practically convulses under the touch. She doesn’t linger - she breaks away and sits upright.
Voltaea stays lying there, trying to control her breathing. When she sees Alara looking at her she quickly contorts her face in an attempt to look disinterested , rather than disappointed at her absence. It’s a failed attempt. Very funny, though. Alara turns to lean over the side of the bed, rifling through her bedside drawer and pulling out a tube of medicated lotion. “Roll over for me, darling - I’ll take care of those bruises and we can talk about what else you’ve learned today.”
“I…” Voltaea starts to say something and then trails off and sighs heavily - “Okay.” She flips onto her stomach and props her head up with a few pillows, tilting it to get a better look at what’s happening around her.
Alara shifts, sliding a hand under Voltaea’s midsection to untangle the knot on the front of the robe and slip the belt off - “Probably should have had you do this while you were upright…” She mutters, mostly to herself. Voltaea takes the hint and helps her disentangle the rest of the robe before she tosses it to the floor. Now that she’s bare from the waist up - besides that ugly necklace - Alara runs a hand across her back until she finds the bruise at the base of her tailbone and rests her fingertips across it. “So what did you learn from this one?”
“Um… don’t fall?” Wrong answer . She presses down on the bruise just slightly but it’s enough that Voltaea flinches.
Alara keeps her voice calm - not accusatory, just questioning - “But what went wrong? How did you fall?” She releases the pressure and waits for an answer.
Voltaea closes her eyes. Twitching, tensing - then - “The first time I fell it was because I tried to grab her knife and left myself open. The second time I fell… I guess I left myself open again, after I grabbed her.” So you do understand! Alara squeezes a small amount of the lotion onto her fingertips and rubs it into the bruise as her girl breathes a sigh of relief and says “I did get her at the end though.”
Alara laughs - not at her girl so much as at the strange sense of recognition she feels when she hears those words. “And I couldn’t have been prouder, darling.” She traces up Voltaea’s back to the bruise on her shoulderblade, then leans over to kiss it. “But you left yourself overextended because you took unnecessary risks. Which leads to my next question.” She sits up and rests her fingertips in the center of the angrier-looking bruise. “Knowing what you do now, about the… potential outcomes of your unnecessary risk-taking; do you really think it’s wise to be traipsing around thirty feet up without a harness and taking apart dangerous explosives on a whim?”
Voltaea has the audacity to try and correct her on a technicality - “Oh, that mine wasn’t dangerous, it was totally inert.”
Your smart mouth can wait until we’re done learning - Alara presses her fingers into the bruise - much harder this time - and her girl lets out a sharp hissing noise through gritted teeth. Releases. “You know very well that I didn’t literally mean the one you used in training.” She punctuates her words with a few more stiff presses. Waits.
Voltaea shuts her eyes, bites her lip in thought, then finally - “I thought you wanted me to be bold, though? Wasn’t that just like… the bold version of what I already do? How is that worse than traps?” I… you little shit, don’t use my own words back at me!
Alara sighs indignantly - “Because darling, I don’t have to worry about you vaporizing yourself when you’re tinkering with one of your little wire inventions.” she gestures wildly as she speaks - “At worst you might end up with a cut, or a singed fingertip, I’d imagine.” Voltaea’s expression softens, she cranes her neck around to face Alara fully as she continues - “And as an aside; reckless and bold are two entirely different things! I would categorize landmines under ‘reckless’.” She shuts her eyes and the words keep falling out of her mouth - with far more emotion than she intended - “I’ve seen at least half a dozen tributes in my time either jump the countdown, or try to reactivate those wretched devices without the first idea of how they work. Do you know what happened to them?” Her heart thunders into her throat and she doesn’t wait for an answer - “Not one went home recognizable. Do you think that’s what I want for you?” A coppery taste wells up on the back of her tongue as she clenches her jaw.
She hadn’t noticed that Voltaea rolled back onto her side until a hand reaches out and catches her own, snapping her attention back to the girl on her bed. She smiles brightly, then strips Alara bare with a single sentence - “It feels kinda good to know you’re worried about me.” I suppose that might have been too vulnerable. She whips her head around just in time to hide the pink flush that assaults her cheeks - Voltaea just keeps talking and making it worse. “I mean - We talk about how great you think I am, or all the technical stuff all the time and it’s just… I don’t know… It’s good to know you care about me not dying too.” Darling you have to stop talking. She has to shut her eyes to stop herself from saying something aggressively sentimental. The hand around her own squeezes tighter as her girl continues - “You don’t have to be embarrassed, it was… actually really nice.” She sighs and makes a half-hearted attempt to pull her hand away that she quickly abandons when Voltaea’s grip tightens around it again. We’re teetering on the edge of too much softness, Alara - say something flippant!
In her head it sounded flippant, but as soon as the words erupt from her mouth she can taste how badly she’d failed that assessment - “Darling, I love you too much to let you live out this lifetime thinking I’m nice.” Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!
It’s not just the three words she should never under any circumstances have put next to each other in Voltaea’s presence that taste so rotten - the cloying sentimentality in voice nearly makes her sick. Oh yes, you’re doing wonderfully at keeping the upper hand, Alara! And how is that oh-so-brilliant plan you had to let HER come to YOU coming along? The sarcasm in her thoughts cuts worse than usual in the wake of her accidental confession.
Voltaea takes it upon herself to salt the wound by tenderly cupping the side of Alara’s face and whispering - and without a hint of irony! Gods, I can’t… “I love you too.” Kill me.