Octavia looked up at the very dark skinned man who stood barely a foot away from her. He was the Chancellor of the ARC Space Station. And after living sixteen years with just her brother and mother, she had never seen people with blue eyes, or dark skin, or squinty eyes. Until, that is, she was caught at one of the dances. Her mask only hid her for so long, and now it hung around her neck. That man though, just took her hand and lowered her into the metal cylinder.
"Where am I going?" A woman came in the room, light hair and dark eyes. She had a nice smile and a warmth that didn't need to be spoken. She took Octavia's other hand and put a band on it, metal and shiny and thick on her thin wrist.
"To Earth, to live. There is no life for you here." He then added softly, "We will follow you soon after."
"With my brother?" The man nodded, "And my mother?"
"She broke the law, and we never show special treatment."
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Lincoln sat on a great boulder and chewed carefully on a bit of rabbit he successfully hunted down. During his time away from the tribe, he enjoyed the dangerous nature that surrounded him. After all, at twenty, he was one of the few warriors that his commander, head of all the Chieftains, called upon most.
He was warrior, thru and thru, and a leader, father of his tribe. And yet, he refused a bride. The Commander, his cousin, was furious. As his only other living relative, she expressed her want for more warriors on a regular basis. Lincoln would scoff at her. Told her that it was because she wanted children to spoil. Both sides were true. And yet, Lincoln refused to procreate more strong men and women to be her warriors. He was happy on his own and considered hermitry a few times now.
But, and this was a BIG but, he had a village to lead. He loved his people, and he hoped it was vice versa as well, however there were times where he just wanted to run away an never look back.
A boom from above broke his concentration and stole his attention away to a burning star falling to the ground nearby. He jumped back and rested behind the rock when great big arcs of white opened up behind the object and the thing began to slow however a deafening crash still sounded when it fell below the tree line. Dozens of blue butterflies floated around him, edging towards the tree line and back to him, never going far from him as he reluctantly followed the deadly glowing bugs. Didn't his mother teach him better? He walked faster because it wouldn't be long before the reapers investigate too.
It didn't take long to find the cylinder, especially with hundreds of deadly butterflies descending on the silver cylinder. Guess they were interested as well. As he slowly approached it, the belly slid away and out popped a small girl. She looked around, her back to Lincoln as she stepped out and spun. Little glowing butterflies, ones colored bright blue and dark gold, both severely poisonous species floated down and landed on her, as if she were one of their own. Hundreds fluttered around her, all of them seemed desperate for a touch of this fallen angel, landing often on her arms and hands. And Lincoln wanted to touch her too.
As he moved towards her, his pulled his helm off with one hand and reached out for her with the other. His rough fingers slid against silken softness that jumped away quickly. "Who the fuck are you?" She cried out as she threw her arms up in defense. The butterflies floated around them, lighting the whole area up.
"My name is Lincoln." He spoke slowly, as not to startle her, "Chieftain of the Forest Tribe." He bowed to her, hands out to show his unarmed stature. She stayed still to him as he took her hand, slowly inching her closer to himself.
"I'm Octavia Blake." She hummed back.
A terrifying roar sounded and Lincoln pulled her closer as a reaper burst from the foliage. Lincoln pulled a knife and killed the monstrous man quickly who seemed to already be dazed. However Lincoln didn't know what by. A screaming came from a thick silver cuff around one of the girl's small wrist. It was loud, far too loud. And that was dangerous. In two seconds, perhaps three, Lincoln has jammed his knife into the cuff and pried it free of her. Only then did the metal stop screaming and Lincoln could hear many footsteps.
The reapers were coming.
He tightened his grip and dragged her away, to his village where they would be safe.
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"Where are you taking me?" She whispered as they slowed, Lincoln looked over his shoulder at her as she added, "Are you going to hurt me?"
Hurt this small girl with her pale eyes and dark features? "No. When we get to my village, we will find you a safe place to be." He then brought his finger to his lips, to hush her.
She hummed and then started off again with, "What do you intend to do with me?" He stayed quiet, merely took her hand and kept walking, he wanted to stay ahead of those reapers. They broke through the trees and were immediately met with a wall of stone.
Lincoln took her along the wall until he ordered the gates opened. His people were quiet as he led his guest through the wall. The thick wall was circled around their village, broken only by six towers that stood around, for the warriors to watch and defend from. And in the center of the whole ensemble, was a short fat stone tower. His home. The upper floor was his personal quarters whereas the lower was a feast hall that his people gathered in every evening. Lincoln nodded to his people and dragged her to the hall, then up the winding stair case to his quarters. Here he sat her on the many furs of his own kills that laid over a raised pallet. She knelt on his bed and ran her fingers through the thick softness. He watched her for a moment as she hummed to herself.
"Stay here." He ordered, pointing at the center of her bed. She faced him and fingered the blue mask that hung around her neck. How he missed it earlier, he didn't know, but it seemed fitting for her.
However, he needed to assure and meet with his people.
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A week had passed on the ground nicely. Lincoln had been woken by Octaiva the second morning to see the sunrise. She had coming banging into the room in excitement. He had her housed at a friend's house nearby, and Octavia had entered the place like she owned it, demanding he get up to see the 'beautiful sun.'
It was during one of their mornings together that Lincoln suggested training Octavia, he noted how week she looked though she gained considerable golden colors since her arrival. And so, after each sunrise together, Lincoln would set to his duties with her following like a shadow before he proceeded to train her. Octavia huffed out as a shirtless Lincoln dropped her to the floor again, many of the children were there too, training or watching Lincoln and Octavia.
"Harder Octavia," he would say. "The Chieftains and the Commander will be here tomorrow, we must prepare you to impress them." She hoped they would send her back up to the ARC or get them to come down. However, until then Lincoln took care of her, even outfitted her in a wolf's pelt, which she found presented her hourglass shape better and left a strip of stomach exposed. The skirt was cut up both thighs to allow for the most movement and she had skin tight pants that protected her ankles well. Lincoln even gave her new boots, however she kept her own for now.
Lincoln pulled her up again, "You must learn to defend yourself better, plant your feet farther apart." He would say over and over again as they would enact a dance of hands and feet flying until he would tackle her. And now that he has taken his shirt off, she found it both harder to fight and more difficult to quench this hot nausea in her lower stomach. At one point during their practice Octavia wrapped herself around him, her legs squeezed his hipbones and her arms crested his shoulders as she tried to get out of his grip again. And failed.
Lincoln pushed himself closer to her, because she smelled of sweetness, similar to a flower he had found in a field once. And she was soft, not hard and rough like the other women here, not guarded. Lincoln found her awe and childlike wonder of his world absolutely fascinating. She strove head forth into danger to look at butterflies that seemed to have taken to living in nearby trees just so they could float down the moment Octavia stepped foot out of the tower. His people marveled at the little girl that tamed the deadly swarms. Laughter resounded around them and Lincoln lifted off of her. He would not sully her reputation, especially if that hindered her future. He helped her up, still kneeling as she stood before him, little hands on his shoulders.
"Lincoln," Nyko, the healer of the tribe burst into the hall and bowed after his announced, "The council has arrived." Only then did Lincoln stand up.
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Within the tower hall, Octavia sat in the center of the circle of men and women of all ages. The only one to exert more power than any of the others was a woman, called Lexa, or rather the Commander who seemed to be a little older than Octavia herself and took the liberty of examining her.
"We cannot send you back to the stars." The Commander finally said, "But you said your people were coming down soon after." Octavia nodded, "Then this is a perfect time to make a new alliance." She sat back in her throne, "You will marry one of the Chieftains in attendance and produce an heir within the year."
"What!" Octavia heard the gasps. She supposed talking back was a no-no. "I, I'm too young, I'm only sixteen." The Commander waved towards the ground next to her and Octavia hesitantly moved so her head was near the woman's knee.
"Most girls are married before their sixteenth birth year. This is our custom, and to strengthen these alliances, you must marry one of the leaders and give him a flesh and blood contract to ensure our peaceful existence together." Lexa patted her head. "That is the way things are, Child. Anya," Lexa waved to a strong woman flanked by a dark skinned woman across the room. "was married off and she is now chieftainess of the Valley people."
"I," A rather lecherous old man stood and stepped towards her, speaking the most common tongue of the grounders. "Will marry her."
"No!" Lincoln jumped up. "I want her, she will be mine wife. I found her first!" He placed himself between the older man and Octavia. Octavia looked between them in confusion, because she did not know what they said, but she hoped it wasn't over her.
"I spoke fir-"
"She is Lincoln's." Lexa stood and the two men turned to her. "Lincoln did find her first, and you have many wives already, Agathor." She patted Octavia's head before the girl rose and followed Lincoln to his seat where he placed her on his knee where she stayed. The night wore on, where the leaders spoke and argued a great many things in tongue that were beautiful and dangerous twisted on her ears. But she stayed with Lincoln through the long night until morning sun peaked through the doors of the tower hall and the Commander adjourned the meeting. She awoke in his arms when they were halfway up the stairs.
He brought her into his quarters and sat her on the palette of furs, Octavia ran her hands over the soft fur, Lincoln ran his eyes over her soft skin. He kneeled behind her and pulled her so her back was flush against his front.
"Octavia," He growled into her ear and cupped her chin so he could turn her head, angled them both to kiss her. Octavia had never been kissed before, and felt that suffocating fire press up on her lungs as they pulled apart.
"Linc-," He did not want her to speak and turned her around. Slowly they both laid back in the furs, not a word spoken between them, but she felt the words in her bones. She found herself curling into him for more, and he would give her an occasional peck.
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Agathor insisted on the ritual marriage, and he sat by the rage fire near the pelts that Lincoln had deposited her mere moments before. She looked down at her nude body only painted in red swirls of color. Something made from a berry nearby. Lincoln was decked out in blue swirls as he pulled the last of his clothes off. And Octavia learned that he was beautiful. Lincoln strode forward, dropped to his knees when he reached the edge of the pelts.
Indra, one of Anya's second's, had sat down with Octavia and explained the ritual, get as much of the paint on each other as possible as while mating. Simply put, however Octavia found the process hard to perform in public. So Anya had rubbed oil on her sex which made her squirm around, much to Agathor's vocal delight.
As Lincoln approached her, all froze very suddenly as a flock of glowing butterfly dropped to bath Octavia in blue, flittering across her skin so close that she felt the wind from this delicate wings. She could help laughing as they tickled her sides. Lincoln slowly approached her, the insects fluttered over him as he reached for her, however it was obvious that they had very little interest in him.
Lincoln pushed her legs open and kissed her, slowly lowering his body over hers. The butterflies flew up in a cloud and then lowered again over the couple. "It is alright, Octavia, after this," he whispered into her ear, "I'll not touch you again unless you will it." She nodded and froze as he joined them for the first time.
She cried through it, before her tears gave way to sighs blown into his ear and finally let out groans as he used his wetted thumb to rub between them. Something very wrong was happening and Octavia tried to tell him as heat sparked and crushed her in her lower stomach, until finally she was flying, thrown by him. As Lincoln pressed her into the furs, both naked, him shaking and glistening and butterflies in a frenzy above them both, she looked over his shoulder to see Agathor smiling that rotten grin. She found herself quiet cold when he lifted himself off of her and the insects replaced him over her body. Soon, though he was cuddled against her back and whispering and kissing her shoulder. "Mine little wife." He finally said and she sat up. "Would you like me to take you to our rooms?"
Octavia looked around, the night warm butterflies above her. Lincoln curled at her back as everyone celebrated around them, and for the moment she was content, even more so as Lincoln rolled a large fur pelt over her to hide her from prying eyes. "I'd like to stay here." Octavia looked back at him. "On the Arc we could only have one child." Lincoln's mouth twisted down.
"I want many children." He demanded. "In my tribe we marry as young as the woman's monthly child bearing cycle has begun."
"I don't think I'm ready for kids," She whispered. She had never been told about this.
"I will be with you every step of the way. Little wife. Rest now." She dreamt of her mother and brother.
Eventually, when she had woken, she found herself and her husband on their palette of furs, he on his back and spread out as she lay on her side, snuggled into him. Sitting up she stretched, a delicious ache at her core reminded her of her night before. Octavia gently eased over her husband, crossing to the other side. Only when she had a leg on either side of him did his large hands fly up and catch her hips firmly. "Little Wife," he graveled out in that low voice that had her belly all warm and fluttery, "as much as I like this, I promised not to force you." She stared down at his face, eyes still closed but brow furrowed. She relaxed back and sat fully on his pelvis rubbing across his penis.
The term seemed so juvenile, but she felt like the other names for the appendage were offensive in dialect.
Lincoln let out a breath and looked down at his little wife. "Oh-kay." He rolled them over and hovered over her, "I guess you left me no choice seductress." He kissed her smiling lips to quiet her giggles as he pushed her legs apart then pulled at the blankets to free them both. Lincoln lifted her hips and angled them to-
Yelling flittered through the window and had them both sit bolt up right. "Go," She whispered and he did just that, pulling on his clothes and grabbing his sword. She followed only after she had ripped her clothes on.
As soon as she stepped outside to find her people silent and still she followed their gaze. On the roof of the tower and the tops of the trees nestled and fluttered and glowed butterflies. Many of which already floated down and perched on her.
The old wise woman of the tribe stepped forward and proclaimed, "Tis the chieftainess, lady of the light." Octavia found it rather disconcerting when they all began to bow to her, not bend over, but drop to their knees and fold themselves in. The only people to remain standing were the leaders and Lincoln, who grinned in delight at her.
She noted how Agathor glared at her.
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That evening, after the fanfare of glowing bugs, all of which would periodically float down to teeter across her skin or hair, Octavia was seated on a wood throne as her husband gave his usual speech. When he was done and everyone began to eat, Lincoln turned to her. "Wife, you will be mother to all of them, as I am father to all of them." He sat back in his throne as the other Leaders had left earlier that day. "And little wife, you must protect them, so I have picked out my greatest female warrior to teach you. She will also be your personal guard." She sat back and smiled.
The next day, Willow, A tall, strong, warrior woman, had shown up at her room and retrieved her for morning exercise and the next week they added language lessons in. Octavia found it both brutal and wonderful. Because come on, our muscles could do that? Octavia learned very quickly that trying to beat the warrior was quite a bit of fun, even when she was thrown on her back. That is until she fell ill about four months after she landed.
Lincoln had worried over her as the old, wise woman and Nyko fluttered their hands over her. "AHA!" The old woman yelled, "She is with child!" Nyko merely nodded confirmation as Octavia became sick in a bowl near the bed. As soon as she had been placed back on their palette, Lincoln declared;
"She'll be protected and her training will cease until the child is birthed and she has returned to good health." Although, Octavia felt her heart swell in adoration at his protectiveness, she also abhorred it.
"I can take care of myself!" She mumbled lowly as he kissed her forehead.
"But I want to take care of you." He whispered into her ear.
It seemed that the old woman thought it necessary to announce the news to the entire village and soon plans for a feast to honor the mother's new child was underway. On the night of the feast all the mothers of the tribe touched her stomach whispering 'may we be strong.' In the next few months, Octavia had never had so many oils rubbed on her stomach and chest before. "For the child," The women and mid wives would say as her stomach grew larger and her husband grew more cautious of her. Octavia grew to love him (honestly, not something hard to do), hated the kid gloves, and found that she very much craved blue berries, which she was certainly not allowed to go out and pick herself.
"I was hidden under the floor boards now I am caged in my own village." He once denied to have sex with her, something she craved, even demanded from him. At first she had hormonally gone into a crying spell accusing him of not loving her because of her heavily pregnant body. It took much consoling on Lincoln's part before he admitted his fears of harming her or the child. She was so shocked by the answer she easily pushed him onto the bed and crawled over him. She sat on his pelvis and braced her hands on his chest. She took care of his fear problem, humming as he took over.
(Secretly, she liked it when he went from his gentle sweet-self that accommodated her every whim, to that rough around the edges warrior that would do anything to hear her scream his name)
On her official one year earth anniversary, she gave birth to their child with a gaggle of midwives around her. Her child was a rather large baby boy Lincoln named Abraham and was very pleased by him. He placed the newborn onto her chest where the midwives helped guide him to her breast. She stared down at the little fleshy thing that squirmed even as he ate. "My son." It hit her hard. The emotion, the weight on her chest that had begun to crush her the moment she saw him, the sound of his cries that instantly became familiar and soothing, it was love. At least this was the only way to describe it. Her wonderful, welcome burden. She began whispering the language of the forest dwellers, roughly coming off her tongue as she still had yet to master the fluidity and curl in the tongue.
It reminded her of when her own mother would say to Bellamy, "You sister, your responsibility," And now she understood it a little more. Lincoln whispered in her ear about a sibling for their child which she answered with, "not for a while." She said as she held her son, Abraham Bellamy, Son of Chieftain Lincoln of the Forest Tribe.
She grew strong again and started once more to train with Willow (Who could still beat her while holding Abe). She followed her husband into skirmishes with reapers. She learned to kill and accepted it. She fell more in love with her family as Lincoln brought her flowers and lay in bed with her all morning. They became one mind, moving to accommodate each other automatically which benefitted greatly in battle. She flourished in this environment as a Grounder leader, and the butterflies stayed as her guardians, and her son's guardians. Where there was a butterfly, there was either Octavia or Abe beneath it.
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As she held her son one day, them both admiring a flower Lincoln had picked for her, a boom resounded in the sky above, drawing a cry from the little six month old Abe. She shushed him as she watched a great big ship fall to the earth and land in the forest not far from them, so close she could feel the tremor of impact. Octavia turned around and started running to the center of the village, her husband met her halfway, eyes scaling over her. "It is my people." She started as soon as she saw him, "I must go and meet them." He started to shake his head because,
"I can't put you in harm's way." He growled out to her.
"This is not a choice, I will take a horse and a guard and you will stay here with Abe." She put her foot down. And so did he.
"I will chain you to out bed woman, you are not leaving this vil-"
"But those are my people and-"
"And YOU ARE MY WIFE!" He yelled, he rarely did, but she understood that it meant something important. "I would die if something happened to either of you. I need you to stay in my sight."
Octavia cupped his chin. "Then come with me. I am not leaving them out there though." Finally, he nodded.
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(Bellamy)
Bellamy Blake had searched the faces of all the teenagers on the Drop Ship. He was told by Shumway that his sister would be on the ship and that he would get a spot on if he did a favor. Shooting a guy, he did not consider a favor. But it was for Octavia, whom he did not see milling about. He opened the doors, took control of the group easily, yet he felt the ache in his chest from his missing sister. Clarke, Griffin's daughter, made an inspiring speech about going to mount weather, however he shot her down instantly when they looked to the mountain and found only a massive crater. "Princess, our salvation was destroyed a hundred years ago." He crossed his arms over his chest.
"So we make a camp, the agro kids can forage, figure out what's safe to eat and what's not." He started before another voice cut him off. The little Princess stepped forward.
"And keep a look out for medicinal herbs." She added, "The factory station people should start setting up shelters and-"
"What made you so important?" He growled stalking towards the Princess to look down his nose at her.
"The fact that I'm the only doctor down here," She hissed. "And you don't understand how much resources go into taking care of one hundred people." She turned on her heel to address the crowd again when Bellamy piped up.
"Factory Station needs to divide, one half to build shelters, one to build a wall." Some of the kids frowned so Bellamy elaborated, "There are trees and grass, which could mean scary animals that just might take a bite out of us. So I would suggest more safety than just a filmy shelter." He looked to the Princess who glared. "A good majority of you were also cadets in training; you'll be on the hunting teams until we can get everyone else trained." Clarke stepped forward.
"And I'd like to teach everyone basic first aid in case I am either unavailable or chewed on by a scary animal," She looked over her shoulder at Bellamy, "Then you will at least be able to survive a little bit." Suddenly it started raining, and a cheer went up as everyone relished in the warmth. Clarke, still standing next to him, muttered. "We are going to have to co-lead them."
"On the contrary, Princess." He turned to her, made a long display of running his eyes over her body and felt an ugly monster stir when he noted how the rain wetted her shirt and his seduction pebbled her skin. Her nipples became noticeable in shape as she folded her arms up to hide the reaction, although the action made to enhance them only. "You'll be in my tent tonight, to talk over leaderie things, or whatever you call it." Her chest, neck, and face (All the way up to the hair line) where flushed red.
"If we only do that, then fine." Clarke turned and walked away Bellamy's eyes on her hips the whole time. They met in his tent at nightfall and talked about leaderie things…(while she was on top of him and his lips laving at her chest). When they were done, he held, and whispered against her shoulder.
"I came down on the drop ship to be with my sister." She stopped breathing for a moment as he reached up and brushed fingers over her naked arms. The peach fuzz over her body made his mouth water. "I shot a man to get on that ship to protect her."
"You're the Blake."
"Yes," He pushed hair off her neck and attached his mouth there. "But I didn't find her. I didn't find my baby sister." He buried his face in her shoulder again, licking and laving still.
"A noble cause under the guise of evil." She turned over and took his head in her hands. "But you do make a good leader, and though you should mourn for your sister, you should also live life to the fullest." Clarke rolled up to push Bellamy on his back and her over him. "For your mother and sister."
"That sounds so stupid now."
"But you will move past it one day." Bellamy reached one hand up and grabbed her hands to push them against his scalp. Here her fingers carded and tangled in his curls. "And when you do, you will have one hundred persons to support you."
"And a certain Princess to co-lead with."
"Oh, that?" She giggled. "That's mandatory."
Later, he cuddled against her back as they argued over who would go the river to collect water. "We need it for the camp, Princess."
"I'm not saying we don't need it." She sighed and turned over, her blue eyes searching his as that hot fire burned within the irises. He ran his fingers down her spine and watched her muscles tense up and shiver, rocking her against his chest. "I don't want you going down there alone. Miller wi-"
"Be here working and should-"
"Go with you." She finished. "Because you might get chewed on by scary animals." He laughed as she ran her fingers over his chest. "Or fall down a ravine, or get bit by a poison bug or-" His thumb pressed over her lips until she stopped trying to talk, then he ran the rough pad gently over her plump bottom lip. "We better get up to attend to the children out there." She sat up and he growled at her pale back and neck where he had placed hickeys.
"Alrig-"
"WHAT THE FUCK!" Broke through the silence and the couple dug for clothes and shoes, getting dressed in record time as they entered into the light to see. Miller, one of the guard trainees, sidled up to Clarke's side, but addressed Bellamy. "Bellamy, It's a wild woman."
Bellamy looked over the Grounder Person, She was strong but small, tension palpable in waves off her strong body. He could see how her muscles jumped, but she would not retreat as he moved forward. Her head piece held rather feminine features with a blue, metallic mask over her eyes stitched to a helm. Only her delicate lips and jaw were visible. Pelts wrapped over her body, in a sleeveless shirt that brought attention to her bosom in the low cut fashion but left a sliver of her midsection exposed. Her strong stomach twitched under the belt of weapons that hugged her waist and held her skirt on. The skirt had a slit on both sides cut to her thighs and giving her the maximum amount of movement. Under her skirt she had a pair of pants on to protect and warm her as her boots were rather…familiar to Bellamy. They reminded him of O when he had to stitch her boots back together from scuffing.
She reached up and pulled off her helm off, her bright eyes smiling up at him as his heart stopped.
So should i upload chapter 2 in a week?