For the Drabble Game Challenge (Octavia and Bellamy, assassin!au, requested by Em) and the Ultimate AU Challenge (assassin!au)
Octavia lays the photographs out, studying the man in each one. Charles Pike, an upstart politician who has proven to be more of a ruthless dictator. The man who executed Octavia's true love.
Her eyes wander to a different photograph. Lincoln's body lays on the ground, a pool of blood around his head like a halo. He was labeled a traitor to Arkadia and executed after trying to rescue the prisoners of war.
"I know what you're planning."
Octavia turns to find Indra, her mentor, standing in the doorway. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Indra moves closer, her movements graceful and sure. Octavia watches her in amazement. She wonders if she'll ever be able to carry herself like that.
"This is not your assignment, Octavia," Indra says quietly, placing a hand on the table and covering Pike's face. "It's too close to your heart, and some of us are worried you might be reckless."
Octavia laughs. Charles Pike will not be the first man she's killed. She's come a long way. From the girl who can't throw a punch to the infamous Sky Ripper that people whisper about in nervous voices. She knows how to kill him and make him suffer. She won't screw this up.
"Lincoln saw a different life for you," Indra reminds her.
Octavia closes her eyes at the painful reminder. Lincoln wanted to run away to the sea, away from Pike's constant threats. He spoke of a future together in a peaceful world without fear.
"Look where that got him," Octavia says, turning away. "Blood must have blood, Indra. It's what we do. We're in the business of revenge."
"Other people's revenge. Never our own."
Octavia knows that the rule is in place for a reason. They are free to hire others to exact revenge, but they must never take revenge themselves. It's the way it works, the way it's always worked. But Octavia no longer cares.
She snatches a photograph of Pike from the table, shoving it into her pocket. "I guess this is me quitting," she says simply.
"Octavia-"
But she doesn't listen. Any pleas that Indra may have go unheard as Octavia walks out the door.
…
Marcus Kane sits at the bar, gesturing for another glass of scotch. He knows that he should have left at least an hour ago, but it's hard to go home. At home, he'll find another stack of notes, more plots and plans from his fellow rebels.
Niylah places the glass before him with a smile. Marcus lifts it slightly in a mock toast before downing it.
"Marcus Kane?"
"Who's asking?"
He doesn't see the person's face. It's hidden behind the hood of an emerald green cloak. Judging by the voice, he can tell the speaker is female. "I'm the person who can give you what you want, Chancellor."
Marcus shudders at the title. Chancellor. The role should have been his. If he hadn't insisted on being honest and putting it to a vote, he would be the one in power now, not Pike. This whole mess could have been so easily avoided if he'd listened to Abby.
"I'm not the chancellor," he says simply.
"Maybe not," she agrees. "But I don't care about that. You need me, and that's the important part."
Marcus laughs at her arrogance. She won't even show her face, yet she expects him to believe that she's somehow important to him. He's tempted to get up and walk out, but he's intrigued. "I need you?" he echoes. "What makes you think that?"
"We have a common enemy," the woman answers. "Charles Pike."
Marcus looks around, worried. The bar is run by rebels, but there's the constant fear that a new face might be one of Pike's agents. He's only greeted by familiar faces, and it relaxes him, if only slightly.
"Who are you?"
"My name isn't important. But there those who call me the Sky Ripper."
Marcus suddenly finds himself tempted to request Niylah just bring him the entire bottle. He's heard of the Sky Ripper before. She's supposed to be one of the most ruthless assassins around. If she has come to call, it can't mean anything good.
"I'm not sure that killing Pike is the best solution," he mutters.
It's something that has come up again and again. Marcus had hoped to find a way to peacefully resolve things. Unfortunately, that possibility is looking grim. After Lincoln's death, the rebels have grown restless, demanding justice.
"I have personal reasons," the woman says. "But I hear you have people who can get me on the inside."
He's torn. He wants so badly to be a man of peace. At the same time, however, Marcus knows that eliminating the threat makes the most sense.
"I'm not sure that we have the funds to hire you," he tells her.
"Don't worry. Knowing he's dead is payment enough."
…
"Any news?"
Bellamy straightens his tie nervously. "None worth reporting, sir," he answers. "A few smile riots, but there was no damage done."
Pike doesn't turn around. He faces the window overlooking the city, his back to Bellamy. "And the rioters?"
"Scattered the moment our troops arrived," Bellamy reports.
Pike is silent. His shoulders tense. Bellamy braces himself. He's all too familiar with how Pike can behave when he's angry.
"Do more to catch them next time," Pike demands sharply. "Bring them to the square and execute them."
Bellamy swallows dryly. He's killed before. It's almost second nature to him. Still, he's hardly a murderer. He still believes in the old ways. Arrest, fair trial, sentencing. Even if he is the head of Pike's security force, he can't help but disagree with the chosen method of handling things.
Not that he'd ever tell the chancellor that. He'd be accused of treason before the words could even finish falling from his lips.
"Is that understood?" Pike asks, his voice low, dangerous.
"Crystal clear, sir."
Bellamy can still see Lincoln kneeling in the mud as Pike pulled the trigger. He wonders if his sister has heard the news yet. He's surprised that she hasn't retaliated yet. Maybe she'll keep it that way. Bellamy would hate to have to turn his weapon on Octavia.
…
"I don't know about this, Miller," Harper says.
Nathan rolls his eyes. It isn't the first time she's expressed her concerns over the mystery woman they're supposed to be sneaking in. Really, he can't blame her. They're taking a big risk by being there. Another rebel in Arkadia could be trouble. But he has his orders.
"If Kane says she's legit, then she's legit," he says.
Harper tugs at her braid. They both have so much to lose. Her boyfriend is behind bars, awaiting trial for a riot. Nathan's own boyfriend still doesn't know the truth about Nathan's loyalties and is roaming the streets as a soldier.
"Is that her?" Harper asks.
Nathan doesn't know who else it could be. The girl in the cloak doesn't fit the image has of someone known as the Sky Ripper, but it would be a hell of a coincidence for her to be anyone else.
"Kane sent me," she tells them, confirming their question.
"Are you sure you can do it?" Nathan asks.
He wants to trust his leader's judgement, but the girl doesn't look intimidating, even with a sword resting at her side. He instantly regrets the question the second she draws a dagger and, quick as a flash, presses the tip to his throat.
"I like my chances," the assassin answers with a laugh before returning her dagger to its sheath.
Nathan swallows. "Well then, right this way."
…
Octavia follows the one called Harper, smoothing her hands over the ugly grey dress. She doesn't care for uniforms to begin with, but this one is the worst. It fits just a little too tight, and there's no room to hide her weapons.
"Are you sure no one will find it weird that I'm here? Won't they realize I don't work here?"
Harper shakes her head. "One of ours does all the hiring," she explains. "Kane will have already told Sinclair that you're here."
Octavia grits her teeth. She'd rather have fewer people know that she's around. Trusting Kane was one thing. She doesn't know how many others she can trust.
"Pike's office is on the top floor," Harper adds. "Miller should have already hidden your weapons in the supply closet."
Octavia nods. She wishes she could already be on the top floor. She doesn't care to listen to a rundown of everything she needs to do. "Got it."
When Octavia goes to leave, Harper grabs her by the wrist, stopping her. "No pressure or anything, but we're sort of all counting on you. Don't screw this up."
Octavia almost smiles. "Believe me. I'll do my best."
…
Charles Pike stares at the files on his desk, frowning. Rebellions are spawning throughout Arkadia and beyond its borders. It seems as though Lincoln's execution struck a nerve with several out there.
Still, it's no matter. They can riot all they want. It will just be their death sentence.
It isn't as though he wants to be cruel. Charles only wants to protect his people. His people. The rest of the world can go fuck themselves, as far as he's concerned.
"Sir, perhaps it would be wise to increase security," Bellamy suggests, adding another file to stack. "They're fighting back."
"Let them fight," Charles says darkly. "They have no chance to win, Blake. It's little more than a group of children throwing a tantrum."
His guard looks as though he wants to argue but thinks better of it. "Right. Got it, sir."
"Dismissed, Blake."
With a salute, Bellamy turns. At first, he doesn't take a step. Charles rolls his eyes, waiting for his tirade. It doesn't come, and Bellamy finally walks away.
Alone, Pike sits in the chair behind his desk, looking at the names of those known rebels still on the run but fighting his men at every turn. The list is frighteningly long.
…
"I can't take you any farther," Harper tells the assassin, pulling a badge from her pocket. "Even cleaning crews have to have special access to get close to Pike. If anyone asks, Sinclair sent you and trained you personally."
She doesn't know why she expects gratitude from the assassin. Octavia simply nods, distracted as though she has more important things to do than listen to a rebel spy. Harper supposes she does, but it wouldn't hurt her to at least pretend to be interested in her advice.
"You should get back then," Octavia says, turning the badge over in her hand.
Harper smiles. "Yeah. Well, good luck."
She turns and starts to walk away, pausing as she reaches the stairwell. Harper glances over her shoulder, watching Octavia for a moment. Miller is right. She doesn't look particularly impressive. But Harper knows the Sky Ripper's reputation. She is the only hope they have left, and she prays that the assassin can deliver.
…
Octavia finds the supply closet easily enough, sighing in relief when she finds her weapons hidden among the trash bags and cleaning products. She takes a deep breath. Her uniform gives her no chance to conceal them. She'll have to be careful not to get caught.
She pulls her sword out, placing it carefully in the large trash can. It fits just right; the hilt stops right at the rim. Her daggers find a place in the holes reserved for sprays.
"Don't move. Turn around slowly," someone says, and she feels the cold, distinct pressure of gun's barrel pressing against the back of her neck.
Octavia raises her hands and begins to turn. Halfway in her rotation, grabs a dagger, slashing out just enough to make the guard pull away without actually wounding him.
"Bell?"
"O?"
She stares at her brother, unable to believe what she's seeing. She's heard rumors that Bellamy fell on the wrong side of the war, but she never would have imagined that he would be here, this close to Pike.
"What are you? Pike's little lapdog?" she sneers, gripping her dagger until her knuckles turn white.
Bellamy scowls. "Better than an assassin who doesn't even think that security might search the floor regularly."
"He killed Lincoln," she says quietly.
"I know."
Those words hurt almost as much as Lincoln's death. He knew, and he did nothing to stop Pike.
"Listen, O. Pike is doing something great. He's keeping our people safe, and-"
"Lincoln was my people," she snaps. "You're going to have to kill me if you don't want me going after him."
Bellamy sighs. "You know I can't do that. Just put the weapon down. You would be a great soldier."
Quick as a flash, Octavia grabs a broom and sends it cracking down upon her brother's skull with all her might. Bellamy falls to the floor in a pitiful heap. With trembling hands, Octavia slides his body to the side and moves the cleaning trolley from the closet. "Sorry, Bell," she mutters as she closes the door behind her wedging the broom into the handle to keep it blocked.
…
"I'm told you hired the Sky Ripper," Indra says.
"Hired," Marcus laughs. "Is it really hired if she works for free?"
Indra inhales sharply, her nostrils flaring. She had hoped the rumors were false. Octavia is angry, but Indra hoped she wouldn't be foolish too.
"Get me inside," Indra says.
She knows that it is probably too late to reach Octavia, but she has to try. Octavia cannot let her heart guide her now. Indra has grown to care for her old apprentice like a daughter.
"I'll see what I can do."
"Now."
Marcus looks at the knife resting by her side, just inches away from her hand. "Now," he agrees.
…
"What took you so long, Blake?" Pike demands, his back to Octavia as he stares out at his kingdom.
Octavia takes a step closer, trembling. It isn't fear that has wrapped itself around her. It's anger, relief. She has dreamt of this moment since news Lincoln's death reached her ears. If he had lived, she wouldn't be here now. They'd be by the sea, happy and without any cares.
"Bellamy, I said-"
His words cut off when he turns. "Sorry. I thought you were my guard," he says.
Octavia smiles sweetly. "Don't worry, sir. I'm just here to take out the trash."
"My trash was already emptied earlier. Sinclair must be getting senile."
Octavia pulls her sword, clenching her jaw. "Wrong trash," she says darkly.
"Blake! Blake!" Pike calls, taking a step back.
"Employing my brother for security was a bad move."
Her words seem to stir some recognition. No doubt Pike knows enough about her to know that Lincoln was her lover. Surely he anticipated some sort of retaliation for his murder.
"Be sensible. My guards-"
"Half of them work for Kane. Sorry, Chancellor. You aren't walking out of this room again."
Sword drawn, she lunges.
…
Bellamy throws his full weight against the door again, ignoring the burning pain in his shoulder. Again and again, he slams his body against the door, grunting from the effort.
He knew Octavia would come. Part of him is glad Pike rejected his suggestion for more security. He doubts the other guards would have hesitated to shoot his sister.
Bellamy takes a step back, prepared to rush the door again when it opens. He recognizes Kane, but the woman at his side with dark skin and a dagger drawn is unfamiliar.
"Bellamy," Kane says. "Put the blade down, Indra. This is Octavia's brother."
"I chose the wrong side," Bellamy mutters. "Octavia-"
"There's no time for that, son," Kane tells him.
"Where is your sister?" Indra demands.
Bellamy holds up his badge, one of five that allows access to Pike's office. "I think you might need me."
…
Bellamy gets the door open. Indra moves in first, her weapons raised and ready. Marcus follows, coming to a stop immediately.
Octavia sits in the leather chair behind the desk. Blood streaks her face. Pike's head rests on the desk, leaving a puddle of blood on the folders beneath it.
She catches Marcus' eye and smiles. "Hello, Chancellor Kane."
…
"Were you sent to kill me?" Octavia asks.
"I was sent to bring you back. My own orders," Indra answers simply, a smile on her lips.
"I thought you weren't supposed to follow things that were personal," Octavia teases.
She watches Marcus step up to the podium. The crowd is mixed. Some cheer for him. Fewer scream. Most of them, however, still look shell-shocked after Pike's death was announced.
"What are you going to do now?" Indra asks. "Return to the agency?"
Octavia studies the sword for a moment. Finally, she shakes her head. "Lincoln wanted a better life for me," she answers. "A little place by the sea. The least I could do is honor his wishes."
"Is it wise for you to be alone? The Sky Ripper has quite the reputation," Indra teases.
Octavia scans the crowd. It takes only a moment to find Bellamy off to the side. Marcus pardoned him for his involvement with Pike. He is a free man.
"I won't be alone. I'll have family," Octavia says. "You should come too."
Indra strokes Octavia's hair, shaking her head. "I'm not sure that I remember any other life before this one," she says. "I will visit you. But I don't think I will ever retire."
Octavia rests her head against Indra's shoulder. "You think Kane is the right man for the job?" she asks.
Indra chuckles. "Well, if he isn't, I'm sure the Sky Ripper can always come out of retirement."