[ 014 ] divine move
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BEFORE DAVINA knew it, the final day of stage one was upon them. Peter did not join her and Apollo for breakfast that morning, and the blonde girl sat mostly in silence as she chewed on her toast. Her mouth felt entirely too dry for the meal, and beside her, Apollo also stayed quiet, shovelling cereal into his mouth with an apprehensive expression. Davina could imagine the smart remarks Will would be making about them to his table– they probably looked dead to the world.
The training room was already filled by the time the pair got there, and with time to spare, even. Apollo had been much too anxious and had woken up earlier than usual. Davina had made some comment on it, jeering at him, but he had ignored her for once and just started to get dressed, which had been enough for her to realise how serious this was for him. Sure, it was serious for her– as Peter loved to tell her, she'd do whatever it took to be the best. But that would only destroy herself. If Apollo was not good enough, he would be Factionless.
It was clear who was at risk of being cut– Myra and Al stood out as people who barely won matches. Apollo was also on the chopping board, along with Drew. Davina had run over all the opponents, different ways they might be scored, and who was likely in what rank the night before, just to make herself feel better. She had calculated Edward was probably first, but between her and Peter, it was hard to tell. They had both lost to Edward, and were both consistent in wins.
A terrible thought struck Davina, but she tried to ignore it.
Four was their supervisor that day, and he was still sketching out the names on the blackboard. Davina and Apollo were both staring at it, as if that would make their instructor move faster. Somewhere, the door opened, and Tris entered– uncharacteristically late and alone.
"Fuck," Apollo hissed when Four moved away.
Davina felt that was a perfect way of describing the matches for the day.
Will and Myra were first– Will would win, of course (he did). Second, Christina and Al. It was quick and painless, the burly Candor boy still had not made peace with needing to fight to stay in Dauntless, and took the punches like that was his goal all along. He collapsed after a few minutes, and was dragged from the arena. And third was the cause for Apollo's curse.
Edward's name was written next to his, the middle fight. He was across the room, still comforting Myra on her loss and reassuring her to the best of his ability– Davina wasn't even sure if he had processed who his opponent was. Apollo surely had. His eyes were wide and he was hesitating in moving forward, even as the arena cleared. Losing on their final day would damage his rank beyond repair, even if he had started to improve. Apollo needed a win today, and against Edward, it was almost impossible.
It passed silently between the pair– even Davina had lost to Edward.
"Apollo," she snapped tightly as Four called their names.
"What?" he hissed back, knuckles white at his side.
"Edward has a bad knee," Davina said simply, not looking at him. She was worried she'd lose her nerve if she looked anywhere but the blank wall.
Apollo paused. "Huh?"
"He hurt his knee as a kid and needed reconstructive surgery," Davina said quickly. "You wouldn't know if you didn't know him, but he does."
Apollo hesitated. Edward was stepping up now, and Four was looking around the room for the second fighter.
"If that's true why didn't you use it against him in your fight?" Apollo snapped under his breath.
"Because I didn't want to fight dirty against my best friend," Davina retorted. She finally looked at Apollo, eyes meeting.
He swallowed thickly, knowing he had no other options but to trust her. "Which knee?" he asked quietly.
"The right," Davina sighed.
Apollo only nodded to show he had heard as he left her side, heading up to the arena and taking his spot opposite Edward. He fell into a stance that almost mirrored the more experienced boy, matching the techniques Davina had been passing onto him. She swallowed thickly, crossing her arms over her chest as it began, Edward making the first move as Apollo almost refused to move.
Davina wanted to look away, but she was too focused on Apollo's technique, as if there would be anything she could do from the audience if he made a mistake. She could not correct him any further than she already had.
As with most of his opponents, Edward had him on the run, too quick and too smart for those that were not trained, but she knew Apollo had been given an edge. He just had to use it, use it, use it she wanted to scream as the match began to drag, and Apollo began to take a pummelling.
And then he went low, tackling the back of Edward's knee and jarring it. Even bent and prepared to balance, he could not recover from such a tactical blow, and he went down with a grunt. Apollo wasted no time and kicked him in the jaw while he was down, and looked down in thinly-veiled shock as he realised he'd won. Everyone else wore similar looks of surprise– one of their meekest fighters beating the highest.
Davina let out a long sigh of relief, hands to her temple. Hopefully, this sort of a win would boost his rank, especially on their last day. Edward's would stay high, that was not an issue. Davina couldn't help but feel slightly proud, as the boy got out of the arena and looked at the blonde from across the room. She gave him a nod, which he returned, as Four circled Apollo's name on the board.
As Apollo walked towards her, grinning, Davina's eyes found the loser's. Edward was being helped from the arena by Myra and Will, but the brunette boy was looking at her across the room. It was a look Davina knew she would never forget, even throughout all the scolding and the arguments she and Edward had had over the years, there was something poisonous about the way he looked at her.
Swallowing thickly, Davina turned back to Apollo as he reached her side, grabbing her by her shoulders. "I owe you," he breathed. "I owe you so much."
"Okay," Davina scoffed. "We haven't seen the rankings yet."
Apollo just shrugged. "Are you kidding? I just beat number one. They can't cut me now."
But Davina's mood was not matching his, and Apollo frowned, realising. He glanced over his shoulder, where Edward was being given ice and propping up his foot. Davina wasn't looking at him anymore, her eyes were only focused on Peter, standing with his usual lackeys. He was looking at her, too, knowing what came next.
"Davina and Peter!" Four called.
She tore her gaze off him, swallowing thickly. "I'll be back," she told Apollo coolly.
Apollo looked wary, but said nothing as she moved past him and up to the arena, eyes lidded and her usual frown on her face. Peter continued to watch her, as if he could figure out what she was thinking, joining her in the arena. Taking a deep breath, Davina fell into her usual stance, as Peter did the same. His was unpolished, two fists raised with no training and no positioning.
She barely heard Four tell them they could go, as Peter launched at her. She knew his technique off the bat– try and overpower her before she could get the advantage. His fists were strong, and if she let herself be struck, she knew it would easily unbalance her. Yes, he had been watching her fighting since day one, seeing her as a threat, but she had also been watching him, and only one of them had combat training.
Davina caught him off guard, blocking and redirecting one of his fists, leaving his stomach open as she drove her foot into him, kicking him backwards. He stumbled slightly, but he was grinning, as if he enjoyed her energy. She raised her fists again, narrowing her eyes at him, trying to guess his next move.
They exchanged punches for a moment, Davina constantly ducking to the side keeping her safe despite their height difference. A straight-aimed punch, and Davina ducked and moved forward, getting in close, fist to his flank. She felt the breath leave him, fanning her face, before he tried to get her into a hold, arm tightening around her shoulder.
Davina let out a yell, driving her elbow backwards, feeling it make contact with his cheekbone, before baring her teeth and biting down on his bare forearm, forcing him to let go of her as she twisted out of his grip, kicking as she went, sending him stumbling.
"Really?" Peter got out. He was laughing as he tried to gain his breath back. Davina furrowed her brows at him. "That's how you wanna play it?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Davina replied.
Peter's eyes hardened, as if accepting some unspoken challenge. He came at her with renewed ferocity, Davina blocking as quickly as she could. His speed wasn't equal with hers, but the strength of his blows weakened her long term, and her defence was broken as he kicked her in the side, sending her stumbling.
Davina's elbows scraped along the floor, before she pushed to her feet to avoid him kicking at her jaw, eyes widening as she realised how close he was to knocking her out. While his leg was raised she twisted around him, overbalancing him as he hit the ground. He rolled to his feet too quickly to be hit, but raised his hands to block as she came back after him.
A knee to her stomach winded her, as he reached a hand past her and took a hold of her blonde ponytail, yanking her head back. She let out a hiss of pain, as his other fist connected with her nose. Davina's face crackled with pain, but she sent her arm forward, blocking his next punch. She threw up her other arm, forcing her forearm against his chin to try and push him away, the pair stuck in a power struggle.
Davina kicked at his knee, winning her a chance to then kick him in the ribs, before grabbing the wrist of the hand holding her hair and twisting it around, forcing him to release her. Davina wiped at her bloody nose. It was definitely broken by now.
Peter lunged back at her, and she ducked under the next punch, falling to her knees and swiping his legs out from under him. He hit the ground with a wheeze, quickly rolling onto his feet as Davina stood up. They faced each other, raising their fists, both heaving in breaths.
"You look like Viv," he mused suddenly.
Davina's eyes widened, throat tightening. Peter was just repeating something he had heard Will say weeks ago, but the words themselves cut into her, and he knew the effect they'd have on her. Peter took her moment of weakness, slamming into her, and she skidded along the ground. Gritting her teeth, she pushed to her feet to try and stay ahead, but her head was swimming.
She had to win this match or else she failed. Edward was number one, but she still had a chance to be second and undo the loss from their first round of fights. She should have expected Peter to show up at some point, and she had. She had been prepared because she knew she could beat him. Edward had beaten him, but Edward had also beaten her. It was her last chance to prove that the time she had spent disappointing her mother, sinking into the shadow and bloodying her knuckles had been worth anything.
She was nothing if she couldn't win, spitting out blood leaking from her nose, gasping for breath like Viviane when she had taken a punch from her twin the one time she had tried the hobby. Peter didn't know this, he only knew what he said unnerved her, as he gained the upper hand amidst her turmoil. She could feel herself slipping– her mouth was dry like sandpaper.
Her defence was still strong, but her mind was in many different places, and she had stopped being able to outsmart and predict his moves as reliably. The brunette boy slipped through her defences, and Peter backhanded her, blood and spit spraying from her mouth as she righted herself as quickly as she could, leaning back to avoid another punch.
Davina swallowed the taste of blood and attacked, fist catching the corner of his lip, before she flipped him to the ground, the air leaving his body squarely. Davina scrambled to her feet, prepared to kick his head in, but she knew she had misjudged immediately, as Peter's fist collided directly with the side of her face, sending her stumbling to the ground, cheek pressed against the cool floor, where she stayed, ears ringing.
Her world was spinning around her, and for a moment, she couldn't feel her hands even if she had wanted to try and get up. A shadow fell over her, and she wanted to close her eyes and fall into it. She knew she had lost, but she was too disoriented to see Four circle Peter's name, or hear him announce it.
"Blue," the voice sounded as if it were underwater.
Biting her lip so hard she drew blood, Davina pushed herself to sit, hanging her head between her knees. Peter was standing above her, knees bent as he leaned forward to assess her. Her heart was thrumming against her ribcage like a caged animal, and she could still feel her nose leaking blood.
With a hiss, she looked up at Peter, who was slightly blurry. His forest green eyes were wide and inquisitive, blinking down at her. His lip was split, blood smudging on his chin from where he must have tried to wipe it away. It had already started to swell.
She had lost when she should have won.
Davina let out a noise of frustration. Peter held out a hand, but she hit it away and pushed to her feet, vision swimming as she did so. She stumbled, unable to keep her head straight, and she bit her tongue as Peter moved to catch her, supporting her weight against his.
"Get off me," she hissed.
"And then what?" Peter asked. "You'll fall."
"Fine by me," she bit out.
"No," he retorted. His grip on her only tightened as they began to move out of the arena. Her head was spinning as if she were drunk– she could scarcely see the faces of the people they passed. "C'mon, blue."
She couldn't tell how long they had been walking before she seemed to find an ounce of strength again. "I said I'm fine," Davina snapped, shoving Peter off her.
She slumped against the wall of one of the rocky hallways, squeezing her eyes shut as if that would help the pain. She wouldn't be surprised if she had a concussion of some degree.
Peter scoffed. "You're being stupid."
"Stop fucking with me," Davina got out, eyes half-lidded as she tried to glare at the boy for using Erudite language against her.
"But you make it so easy," he said. Something in Davina's face must have shifted, because he quickly said, "Okay, fine."
He moved to sit beside her, lowering himself slowly and leaning his head against the wall. A few people passed them, but barely took notice– Davina wondered if bloodied teenagers were common, especially this time of year.
Peter was still breathing as if to catch his breath, as Davina fought against the spots in her vision, glaring ahead at the other wall as if it were a cure. She could feel Peter looking at her intermittently, but she didn't want to look at him in that moment.
Davina wiped at the blood on her lip, wincing at the pain that shot through her nose. It made her eyes water as a reflex, and she sniffed. Peter was still looking at her, and she wished he wouldn't. All she wanted to do was close her eyes and let unconsciousness take her, but she would not let him see that.
"I'm sorry," Peter finally said with a sigh.
"For what? Winning?" Davina spat, not doing much to mask her bitterness.
The brunette boy frowned at her tone. "Feels like something I should say sorry for," he told her quietly.
"Just shut up for once," Davina grumbled.
"You fought dirty first," Peter continued as if he hadn't heard her.
"What, because I bit you?" Davina hissed, finally turning to look at him. He was closer than she had expected, shoulder almost pressed against hers. She could see the way the light hit his features from behind, causing him to almost glow.
"Guess that doesn't justify psychological warfare," Peter chuckled.
Davina narrowed her eyes. "I know you'd do whatever it takes to win," she said simply. "I can't be mad at that."
"But you are," Peter said lightly.
"You don't even know who Viv is," Davina scoffed.
Peter blinked at her. "Your twin– you told me."
Davina's face twisted at the simplified statement. "She's everything I was supposed to be," she seethed.
Peter, unusually, stayed quiet. Davina hated the taste of blood in her mouth– she hated that everyone who knew about her twin hated her.
"She was the perfect fucking Erudite," Davina continued. "She was smarter, took the initiative, didn't smoke or do other un-Erudite things. My mother wasted no time in reminding me at every turn. I started lashing out– did things I knew she wouldn't like because at least she'd look at me and not Viviane."
Davina finally leaned her head back against the wall, tilting her chin up so she could blink at the cold-tinted lights overhead. "Eighteen years I lived in her shadow, seeing her in the mirror. When I transferred I thought I was starting fresh but maybe it's something wrong with me."
"There's nothing wrong with you," Peter told her. She gave him a side glance. "Let me rephrase: if there's something wrong with you, there's something wrong with me."
"Believe it or not, that doesn't make me feel better," Davina said snidely.
"Candor's corrupt," he told her abruptly. Davina paused at the statement, trying to understand the correlation. "They only tell the truth when it benefits them."
"Easy for you to say," Davina said with a shrug. "Sounds like you weren't a good role model."
"Well, I learned from the best," Peter responded, but there was an edge to his voice. "You know, you turn sixteen, and suddenly you're finding papers in the study that say your birth parents didn't want you."
"You're adopted?" Davina clarified.
"Yep," Peter responded. "They're all liars at some point." Davina frowned. "Yeah and then I guess– the same thing –start lashing out to make a point."
"So you're unlikeable by choice?" Davina asked him. "Can't put yourself in a position for someone to abandon you again? Or lie to you?"
Peter didn't answer, he only looked away from her, as if into the distance. "You know, a cigarette would do wonders right now," he said.
Davina snorted, which caused her to wince. "I don't care that you won, by the way," she said after a moment. "I care that I couldn't beat you but Edward could."
"But you... also lost to Edward," Peter pointed out.
"I never used to. When we trained together we were even," Davina said bitterly. "It's just... I think all I have now is my fists. If I'm not the best at that then what?"
"You're the best painter here," Peter told her. It was so simple, as a statement, but Davina felt as if she had melted. She looked across at him, as if seeing him for the first time. Not a bully or a pretty face, but someone who understood her, who she understood. "Why're you looking at me like that?" he asked, furrowing his brows.
She faltered. "Like– what?"
"Like you don't wanna punch me anymore," he mused.
Davina raised her eyebrows. "I don't." She gave him a small, close-lipped smile as if to cement the statement.
Peter tilted his head, and slowly reached out, using his thumb to brush some blood off her top lip, trailing it down to the corner. "You still look pretty beat up," he told her.
"I'm supposed to say that to you, asshole," she scoffed.
"Go ahead, then," Peter prompted.
"No, your lip's all swollen," she deadpanned.
"Kiss it better?" he asked softly.
Davina had half a mind to say "you wish" and be done with it, but the boy's green eyes had flicked down and he was closer now than before. She let out a small breath, meeting his gaze as if to ask for permission, confirm that he wasn't just teasing. He gave the briefest of nods, and met her in the middle.
He tasted like iron, as he kissed her, tilting her chin up and cupping it with his hand, fingers delicately pressed against her jaw and cheek bone. It was awkward, considering they were sitting down, but Davina found it the most raw first kiss she had had across her messy eighteen years.
When they pulled away after a few moments, Davina pressed her lips together, before suppressing a laugh. "I wish I didn't split your lip now," she mused.
"To be fair," Peter said. "I broke your nose."
"Hard to forget," Davina agreed. "You should be honoured– not many people can do that and then get a kiss."
"I am honoured," he said brightly. Davina rolled her eyes. "Now– are you done throwing a tantrum? You need to get to the infirmary."
"No thanks to you," she jeered.
Peter got to his feet, looking down at her. "You can kick my ass any other day, I promise." He held out a hand. "Come on, blue."
Davina rolled her eyes, but accepted his help this time, taking both his hands in hers as he helped pull her to her feet.
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unedited surprise update amongst my hunger games binge (you should go read my finnick fic ;))
anyways
god so i did NOT have davina losing originally. in the first edition of this fic, she was supposed to win, but in hindsight, peter has to be ranked 2nd to do his thing to edward, and with the way the matches have played out, davina has to lose to both peter and edward. and also, angst, and it's in character for angry bitter girl to lose her cool
every fic of mine has key chapters i'm excited to write and this this this was one of them. so much tea. davina effectively betraying edward, choosing her own friends, the peter v davina fight followed by a bloody kiss only days before you-know-what happens,, it's all happening
okay that's all for now, bye <3
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