for all_at_sea : if I had a heart

[whisted]

Jack Simpson is enjoying this.

That, more than anything, is what has Horatio Hornblower feeling so painfully trapped. There had been a terrible sinking in his gut when his own name had been called during the reaping. There had been a heavy weight that lingered even after his mother's hand was dragged from his shoulder and his father's voice had vanished from his ears. For all that had ripped something from him, the odd inevitable hadn't been so terrible. A piece of him, even now, thinks he could manage to have properly accepted it.

But then, through the haze, had come the harrowing sound of Simpson's name. That had been far too much far too fast. That had been the worst sort of death warrant; the immediate shifting of hope toward dying at the hands of anyone but his District's other tribute.

None of the rest of it had helped, of course. Being dragged far from home was excruciating. Being poked and prodded and needled and explained to, by tense displeased voices, that he somehow didn't even stand and wear his clothes correctly was torturous. Even the odd comfort of being handed into the care of his mentor was undercut by the horrific fact of Simpson standing nearly constantly beside him, practically preening with a nauseating sort of pride.

In defense of the prep team, of course, Horatio apparently doesn't know how to stand properly. It doesn't matter that his fingers grip tight to the chariot, or that all he properly has to do in the Tribute Parade is actually stand still with the faintest bit of a smile. It's just a blessing, Pellew is certainly sighing to himself, that the Capitol seems to find a tribute managing to fall off the back of a chariot faintly endearing.

(Simpson will make his life hell for it later. Thankfully, Horatio doesn't anticipate having that much more life to have to suffer through.)

It will be better, he tells himself, when they can be separated in the Training Center. It will almost be enjoyable, perhaps, to have these few days of being able to make some small amount of space for himself before Jack Simpson thoroughly enjoys killing him.

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[whisted]

It is, apparently, impossible to not stiffen uncomfortably for a heartbeat with a hand settling at the small of Horatio's back. For all Horatio's face stays neutral, for all he does his best to hide the flicker of discomfort by straightening his spine more acutely, a piece of him knows James must have felt it.

His fingers settle more firmly on the taller boy's shoulder. His jaw sets just slightly with quiet focus.

The first step is hesitant--a little too far back, a little too unsteady. His fingers shift tighter on James's, breath coming in a slow exhale. Watching the middle of James's chest, apparently, helps with the next step.

This is jut another challenge. This is just another something to grit his teeth and survive. This is easier, he's already certain, because he has a partner helping him through it.

[all_at_sea]

James' hand moves back to Horatio's waist as soon as Horatio stiffens so- he might not show it on his face, but his body language alone tells James that was a bad move. He remembers the way Simpson had leaned over him, where the brute had put his hands and he realises what an idiot he is. "I'm sorry," He says, honestly, but he doesn't know quite what to say afterwards without bringing up Horatio's fellow Tribute.

So he tries to focus on the dancing. The first step is always uncertain, but that's expected. It's the fact that afterwards, Horatio seems to settle into it. He's set his mind to it, he will do it. And James gently squeezes his hand when his left foot moves, and puts a little more pressure on his waist when it's the right foot. It seems to work.

He could happily stay here for the rest of the evening, gently moving around the room in a square, letting Horatio learn the steps. Unfortunately, that isn't to be. Not when the sound of the music striking up signals the fact that the real dancing, with an audience, has to start.

"It'll be alright." James finds himself saying, and believing. It's just dancing, there's nothing that will harm them, and he'll make sure of that. At least, until Horatio spots the crowd. "You just look at me, and we'll do one dance. That's all we have to do."

[whisted]

The shift of fingers to his hip is faintly reassuring. The soft apology, without qualification or request for clarification, is enough to set a much happier tremble briefly through Horatio's spine.

This, surely, is a partner.

That, as much as anything, lets Horatio relax slightly more into the steps. If he keeps his eyes on James, watches for movement in the older boy's torso and follows the soft pressure of the hands on him, it isn't so entirely impossible. Others will be more graceful, but they'll be passable.

Pellew will be able to work with this. James's mentor will be able to work with this. It will be a good first step toward patronage and the solidification of their plan.

"--I'll just look at you."

Horatio's face remains faintly set, quiet and determined as if they were entering battle, but the relief in his voice is obvious.

[all_at_sea]

They have to work together. That means understanding what makes each other strong, where they both needs support. They need to know what they won't do, what they will do. James knows to be more careful with how he touches Horatio, where he touches him.

He pulls away, but not far, offering Horatio his hand again, if he wants it, before they head back out, into the blindingly bright main rooms. The crowd is clustered around them, but James' polite words make them shift, giving the boys a clear path to the dance floor.

There are already some couples dancing. And there's Lady Barbara, stood on the edge of the crowd, her eyes on them, calculating.

James knows they aren't the centre of attention, and he's glad of that. There's other Tributes from the other Districts dancing- although most of them with their fellow Tribute. As far as he can see in his brief glance, they are the only alliance on the floor for the moment.

He doesn't care about that though, grinning at Horatio and giving him a brief bow. "Would you care for a dance, Mister Hornblower?"

[whisted]

There's already something natural in catching James's hand. It's even easy, for a moment, to let their joined fingers swing slightly, easily, without conscious thought. Horatio will likely realize, later that evening, how familiar the innocent action was--how often he had seen it between the men and women at home who cared for each other.

Thankfully, he hasn't quite realized it yet. That keeps his cheeks only faintly pink as he follows along.

His gaze seeks Pellew's unconsciously. His mentor is speaking quietly to a cluster of glittering strangers; clearly pauses, when they catch each other's eyes. Some piece of him is certain there's a flicker of approval in the older man's gaze. Much more obviously, he gestures to direct the small crowd's attention toward the newly returned pair of Tributes.

That gets his cheeks properly red again before he finds they've come to a stop. There's a flush all down Horatio's neck as he mimics the older boy's bow. "Yes. Please."

Imperfect, but surely the eager way he slips closer to James again makes up for that fumble.

[all_at_sea]

Neither of them are to know exactly what they must look like to the people watching. They can't know that two boys dancing together so unobtrusively at the President's Palace will cause such a stir. That is for the future and the influence of Pellew and Barbara, of careful manoeuvring in the limelight.

All James knows is that it's very nice to dance with Horatio. Neither of them are perfect dancers, and while their mentors might want them to be dancing for their audience, James is dancing becaise he likes this, he likes the music moving through them as they step, he likes the way his fingers brush over Horatio's waist, and the way Horatio's fingers are curled with his.

"You're doing very well." He says, knowing there's no one to hear them. "Don't worry about them, just focus on me. I'll ask of we can use the training room tomorrow morning, together. Before everyone else arrives."

Maybe not to dance, but to spend some time together and begin learning what they could. They didn't have long and they had to use their time wisely.

[whisted]

Thank goodness for their mentors. Thank goodness for having at least this much breathing room, at least this much of a buffer.

Thank goodness for not having to concentrate on anything but dancing and staring at the edge of James's collar.

The gentle praise prompts Horatio to hazard a proper glance up at the older Tribute's eyes. The distraction of planning, of contemplating one of the scraps of the future that aren't horrifying, urges a nervous little smile to Horatio's lips.

"There's some-- fairly simple snares. It'd be good if you knew them."

[all_at_sea]

"Fairly simple is probably what I can handle," James murmurs, but if Horatio is going to teach him, he will learn. He'll learn as best he can and practise tying them whenever he can. After all, Horatio has thrown in his lot with James, and James will do whatever is in his power.

He matches the little nervous smile, with one of his own. Fighting he can do. Dancing he can do. He's not so certain he will ever be very good at fishing and snaring and making things with his hands, just as Horatio isn't comfortable with weapons.

He can't help but feel that, despite everyting, this might not be as bad as expected. It might even be... occasionally, fun. Like this. This is actually fun, and for the first time since he'd volunteered and taken Elizabeth's place, he is finds himself strangely happy.

Which makes his smile wider still, unable to stop it stretching across his face as the dance continues. He doesn't notice Lady Barbara still watching them, or Matthews and Pellew stood together in whispered conversation.

[whisted]

The twitchy little smile is comforting. The brighter, proper smile is breathtaking.

This close, James is incredible. Every inch of him radiates confidence. Every muscle Horatio can feel in the other Tribute's shoulder is solid and warm. Every movement, gently guiding him along, is graceful and certain. And that smile--

Horatio's cheeks flush a brighter pink for a few heartbeats under that smile before he catches himself. "And-- I'll handle the rest."

They'll be a team. Just like now, as Horatio manages to find a rhythm off of James while the music hits his ears like a collection of discordant noises.

[all_at_sea]

"You keep house and I'll be the bread winner?" James laughs, biting it back quickly because they're meant to be dancing, and talking while dancing is considered unseemly. James has never understood why, after all, if you like someone enough to dance, why wouldn't you want to talk to them? Perhaps it's a matter of what you talk about.

There's only a few steps left, the music changing and he can't pretend he isn't slightly disappointed. He should have continued, but he knows Horatio probably would prefer to melt back into the crowd and away from all the attention. He won't ask him to take another turn on the floor, it wouldn't be fair.

Besides, he can see Lady Barbara watching him, and he's almost certain that, although her lips smile, her eyes are threatening to kill him. He should probably ask her to dance, if only so she can tell him how unhappy she is with him now.

"Tomorrow morning then?" He asks, once the dance ends and the couples split, new dancers moving onto the floor. "Right after breakfast?"

If he had at least made some plans for training with Horatio, Lady Barbara couldn't be too upset for whatever slight embarrassment he had caused her.

[whisted]

The laugh is oddly reassuring, however quickly it's bitten back. Horatio's fingers squeeze a little tighter.

For a moment, Horatio can almost forget that this is the worst place he could possibly be.

"Tomorrow morning."

His fingers stay tight. His attention stays focused on James's face. It's so much safer, so much happier, standing right here with James holding onto him.

[all_at_sea]

James has to let go, although holding Horatio had felt completely natural, he knew that as other dances piled into the centre of the room that they couldn't linger. He nods, a small, more indulgent smile crossing his features.

Once Horatio is hidden by the crowd, James sets his shoulders, squaring them. He slips through the crowd and finds Lady Barbara stood where he had last seen her. He's not exactly sure what that expression means, but women are an enigma wrapped in a mystery, and even more so the ones who work within the Games.

Still, he's sure whatever she has to say to him won't be enjoyable, and he might as well face it now.

He bows, low and respectful and then offers her his hand. "Would you do me the honour, Lady Barbara?"

[wellesley]

They look good together. They have similar dark looks and long necks. They have the same faint sympathetic wrinkling in their foreheads and around their eyes. More than that, they look at each other well; soft, friendly, just the faintest bit longing for something indistinct beyond the edge of their reality.

Barbara could work with this. She is, ultimately. The soft stories being spun to the potential patrons circled around her come easily enough. So do the affectionate sighs. So do the soft tutting smiles.

That doesn't mean she likes the way James looks at the boy from District 11 at all.

"Isn't he a sweet young man, hm?" Another contented sigh is cast around the circle around her as Barbara reaches to take James's hand. One last push, clearly. "If you'll excuse us a moment."

She's silent as she follows James into the twirling crowd. She's smiling as she ducks her head slightly to murmur closer to his ear.

"That little display wasn't meant to be part of it, James."

[all_at_sea]

James' hand sits in careful position on her waist- not too high, not too low, as they join the rest of the dancers. Lady Barbara has a little more practice with this, a lot more if he's being honest, and so he doesn't have to focus on slow, easy-to-follow steps.

He's listening for the soft words, expecting them before they're said, but he is slightly surprised they aren't more biting.

His shoulders move a fraction, relaxing into a shrug, or perhaps it's just the tension ebbing away.

"You told us there would be dancing, Lady Barbara. I thought it would be better if he danced with me."

He couldn't dance with Simpson, or Pellew, or anyone else. He didn't even know how to, what was James to do in that situation?

"Besides, you did say I was to teach him."

That was a little impudent, he realised. Barbara probably wouldn't find it amusing. Still, she had told him, in not so many words, to look after Horatio, and so he was. Not right now, of course, but hopefully Horatio was with Matthews and Pellew, and they'd take him back to the Tribute's apartments.

[wellesley]

Barbara had spent most of her life leaning to lead backwards. She had more years than she liked to count sweeping across exactly this floor with the same precise, familiar motions.

She had spent more years than she liked to count watching children like the one half-leading her now die.

"I did."

Her head ducks slightly closer. Her quiet smile stays in place, shoulders relaxed for all the world to see. It's simply her voice, quiet as anything, that registers clear frustration.

"You should teach him and you should work with him. You should certainly be seen with him. But that?"

James must know that he was actually grinning at the younger boy. James must realize that the beginnings of devotion had been creeping into his features and the way he held the other Tribute's hand. James must not be blind to the obvious beginnings of a visible crush.

[all_at_sea]

James doesn't intend to die. He doesn't suppose any of the others mean to, but he knows Horatio has resigned himself to the fact he will. There's no need for the boy to die and James will do his best to save him if he can.

He doesn't like the way she says I know, it promises for something biting around the corner. Everything else about her, the pose and the smile and the gentle pressure of her hand in his is reassuring and positive. But even so, the hair on the back of his neck is stood on end. This is probably what prey feels like when it's being played with by a tiger.

He makes a slight face, trying to work out exactly what she means. He enjoyed dancing with Horatio. Is that such a problem? Should he not like it?

"I don't understand Lady Barbara. What did I do wrong?"

They were seen together. He had taught him some basic steps. He had made Horatio feel a little better. What could be so objectionable about that? He knew hed enjoyed it, he liked Horatio.

Maybe that was the problem. Only one of them was going to get out. Lady Barbara clearly intended James to be the victor, but if he got attached that would never come to pass.

[wellesley]

James Norrington is an incredible Tribute. There are remarkable odds on him making it through, particularly with a better suited partner than the other boy from District 1.

And yet, here he is, making a small face and missing the signs of his own affection.

"Don't pretend."

He isn't, she's fairly certain. He should be. He should be acutely aware of the genuine contentment he seemed to have during that last brief dance. He should have shut the emotion down instantly.

Her fingers squeeze just a hair fretfully at James's as she ducks slightly closer to his ear. "You need to be careful. Now more than ever."

[all_at_sea]

It's very easy to see signs of tenderness, of affection, of weakness, in other people if you're used to looking for it. James can see a weakness in battle, he can spot affection between his peers, although probably not as quickly as other people. Spotting it in himself? That's harder. Especially in such a short time. The last week or so has been so tiring and so different from his usual routine, so harrowing in comparison to training at home that reading his own emotions is near impossible, remember what it felt like not to watch everyone all the time is difficult.

Was is so wrong to relax just a little, to enjoy a short moment in the company of a friend? Or someone who could be a friend? Clearly it was. Clearly Lady Barbara was concerned. But surely not about Horatio.

"Yes ma'am. Do you think he is that much of a threat?"

Perhaps not in himself, James couldn't imagine Horatio being a physical threat. And he couldn't imagine this being some sort of trick by Horatio and Simpson to divide and conquer the Tributes from District 1.

[wellesley]

"If you keep letting him turn into a distraction."

This sort of thing had to be cut off early. This sort of thing could get so deep under the skin so quickly.

"If he's going to get you twisted, we'll call this off."

It would be more difficult to keep James alive without someone like Horatio helping, admittedly. There wasn't enough time to get James where he needed to be with foraging and trapping, with properly hiding and keeping himself alive outside of combat.

But surely it would be better than watching James fall apart because a boy had smiled at him.

[all_at_sea]

James did well to keep his demeanour neutral. He didn't let his face fall at the odea of not working with Horatio, he didn't let himself feel offended when she said he was already infatuated.

He wasn't infatuated. He knew that. He liked Horatio, but that was it. He'd made a friend.

But he could take the warning. Lady Barbara was there to help him, to guide him and he would acknowledge that. He would appreciate it.

He let himself nod, letting her skirts swish against his legs as they turned in the dance floor.

"Thank you Lady Barbara. But I think it would be good to have a friend in the arena. We can learn a lot from each other and..."

He paused and licked his lips and then continued.

"And I people will be expecting us to work together after dancing tonight."

[wellesley]

At least he hasn't forgotten everything. At least he's still holding his features still and steady as they drift gently across the dance floor.

"They will. That bit you've done-- very well."

There was already a buzz. There was already chatter here and there at the party which would infect the rest of the Capital before the end of the week. There would be interested inquiries, Barbara was certain, about that bright young star from District 1 and his apparent interest in the scrappy Tribute from District 11.

"But there's friends, hm, and then there's friends in the arena."

James and Horatio might well make it to the end. Only James or Horatio would make it out.

[all_at_sea]

"I rather think I'll need him," James said. "I'll be little use fighting anyone if I can't find food or water. He has those skills."

That at least he could be objective about. James would not be able to feed himself, work out what was poisonous and what was safe, what he could use on the edges of blades to make sure even glancing blows would cripple his opponents. He would need that knowledge, and he didn't have time to acquire it. He'd have to gain as much as he could from Horatio, but until they were there, in the arena, there was no way he would be able to learn everything he needed.

"The little ones will always surprise you, Lady Barbara." He offers. Horatio may well be more valuable than she knows.

[wellesley]

"I've no doubt he'll be an incredible ally in a practical regard."

Her fingers lift briefly from James's shoulders, patting fretfully at his cheek instead. To the world at large, it looks like Barbara is affectionately handling her charge. James, she's certain, will understand the reprimand.

"But I'll not have you mistaking how this will end, James."

Maybe it will end with both of them dead, the older first in an attempt to keep the younger alive. Maybe it will end with only James standing, a piece of him lost in the haze of--more likely than not--taking the life of someone he had come to consider a genuine friend.

"Be careful."

[all_at_sea]

James know what it means. He doesn't have to like it.

"Yes Lady Barbara." He says, trying to see respectful and meek under her experience and wisdom. She knows what she's talking about, he knows that. He knows he should be listening to her, but part of him, that rebellious streak his father had never really managed to beat out of him, is already forming other ideas.

He might get both of them killed, he realises. But the odds are already stacked against them, what harm will it do?

Besides, he's not been twisted by Horatio. It's just so nice to find someone here that he doesn't hate. That he could have been friends with, in any other circumstances. He wants to prove to the Gamemakers that he will not be made inhuman by the situation.

"Even so, ma'am, I'd like your permission to train with him first thing after breakfast. We're going to look at snares."

[wellesley]

Some people like to think she's soft. The careful kiss pressed to the Tribute's temple is meant solely to encourage that before her hand drops to James's shoulder again.

"You're going to put a knife in that boy's hand, too. Before anyone else gets there."

It mattered less if James appeared well-rounded to the other Tributes. Part of this alliance would have to be keeping secret what could be cobbled together to make Horatio even faintly dangerous.

"Make sure he can do more than calmly-- skin a rabbit with it, or-- whatever it is they do."