A/N: My beta (the amazing and glorious MarinaBlack1) and I have gone back and forth on my inclusion of Trigedasleng in this chapter. I've decided to keep it, with translations in the notes at the bottom. PLEASE NOTE it is done on purpose, to help us understand Bellamy's perspective in these (and subsequent) scenes.
A/N2: I love you all. THANK YOU for every note, every review, every smiley face.
There were people Jasper could sit with at meals (Octavia, Miller, Harper) and people he couldn't (Monty, Bellamy). It was fucking miserable. Jasper had a hard time explaining it to anyone else, but in his head the logic made perfect sense: he was owed the right to decide when enough time had passed. He had loved Maya. She had done nothing but help him and his people, and her death was the greatest tragedy in a sea of tragedies. Monty, Bellamy, and Clarke had ripped her from him and broken his heart, and only Jasper could say when it had healed enough... but Bellamy and Monty seemed determined to thwart him. Every single time he started feeling like he was just about (but not quite) ready to try taking that first step toward reconciliation, one of them would preempt him with a friendly smile and an invitation to sit at their table… and Jasper found himself hating them all over again.
Sometimes he almost wondered if he was partly to blame. That first day back, when no one could find Clarke anywhere and Bellamy, by contrast, had been everywhere at once – maybe Jasper had been too caught up in his own grief to realize how his friends were suffering too.
Maybe.
Or maybe nobody at Camp Jaha had seemed to give a shit about Maya, or her father, or all those little kids they'd slaughtered, and that was just unacceptable.
Either way, it had gotten ugly and intractable and the only good thing was that neither Monty nor Bellamy had asked the others to choose sides. They could all be friends with the same people – they just couldn't be friends with each other anymore.
Now Jasper stood in the cramped makeshift dining hall, scanning for a safe seat. He spotted Raven and Wick at a small round table and started toward them, but something was off. Raven looked like maybe she'd been crying. As far as Jasper was concerned domestic disputes were a big no-thank-you and he veered abruptly, pretending he was on his way to the other end of the room.
But he couldn't do it. Raven had always been a friend to him. He couldn't brush her off just because she was sad, that wasn't something friends did… So Jasper doubled back.
"You're making me dizzy," Wick said. "Everything okay there, buddy?"
Jasper pulled out one of the extra chairs. "I don't know," the teen answered, angling his head toward Raven. "Is it?"
Raven shook her head. "Not really. Bellamy took off last night with that Grounder."
Good, Jasper thought. Deep down in his gut a small voice pointed out that he didn't really mean it, but Jasper ignored that voice. "We survived without him before, we'll survive without him now."
"No Jasper, you don't understand." Wick went through the night's events quickly, Raven interrupting occasionally to clarify. By the time he finished, Raven had gotten over her tears and seemed ready for a fight.
"I'm sure he's going for Clarke," she declared. "And that's why I'm heading to Polis as soon as I can get packed."
"Raven. Stop." Wick looked frustrated. "You can't chase after Bellamy just because you think he's gone off the deep end. Even if he is on a suicide run, you've got responsibilities here. You need to figure out the rest of Clarke's instructions. You have to take us to A.L.I.E."
Raven narrowed her eyes at Wick. "Us? Clarke didn't assign you to the mission."
"Yeah, well, lucky for you Clarke's not my boss. I already talked to Sinclair, and he agrees with me: yes, Monty's a genius, and sure, mechanics have their uses – but if you really want to take out a nuclear weapon, you should have an ace engineer on the team."
"Uh-huh... But instead I'll just have to make do with you, is that it?"
Wick laughed. "Something like that, yes."
Jasper cut in before the flirting got out of hand. "Hey, if people are allowed to volunteer, I'm coming too."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Raven said. "It's… Monty, you know…"
"Right. Sure. Obviously. Can't have me around, screwing up everything for the genius. He's got to focus on all that death and destruction, right?" He had wanted to make it a joke, but there was just too much damn truth in it to be funny. "You know, suddenly I'm not that hungry." Jasper stood to go, but Raven's hand shot out, gripping his shirtsleeve.
"No. You're right," she said, staring at him intently. "You're totally right. You and Monty need to get past this. You should come."
Bellamy adjusted his pace to match Echo's. She looked up at him, a shrewd smile curling the corners of her mouth. He frowned in response before bending slightly so his voice would not carry through the trees.
"How long have you known?"
"That we're being followed? Almost an hour. How long have you known?"
"Not quite that long," he admitted, and Echo grinned.
"Belomi kom Skaikru, I expected better of you," she teased.
"Hey, whoever it is, they're good." Bellamy tried not to sound too defensive.
"Very." Echo ran one hand over her brow. The rain had drifted North for now, leaving the mid-day sticky and warm. Lower elevations were cool but as the pair crested each hill, the air thickened until breathing was its own form of exercise. Bellamy watched Echo scan the woods as they moved, and realized she was searching for a strategic advantage – higher ground, a defensible position, anything that might give them an edge in a fight.
"I have my rifle," he pointed out. Echo flinched, reminding Bellamy of just how much the Grounders still distrusted guns.
"I'd like to save that option for now. We don't even know who - or what – is following us."
Bellamy grunted but ceded the point. When they happened upon a steep rocky hillside Echo darted quickly among the boulders, and he smiled to himself. It was a good choice; if they could get high enough, they would be well positioned to defend themselves from whoever appeared.
Echo settled into a narrow gap between two large boulders, notched an arrow onto her bow, and grew quiet. Listening. After several minutes of inactivity, Bellamy grew restless and began exploring their impromptu stronghold. He had just rounded one particularly large stone and discovered a shallow cave hidden behind it, when Echo cursed softly and called his name.
"Not who, after all. What," she spat when he reappeared. "Look there," and she pointed toward the base of a tall spruce. Bellamy squinted at the area until he identified two slightly darker shapes within the tree's broad shadow.
"Are they animals?"
"Not exactly," Echo confessed. "They're outcasts. When children are born with… defects, we send them out. It is the best thing to do. They would not survive long in our world."
"Really? Because these two obviously did. Seems like your system needs to be re-examined."
"Sure, there are always some who make it. That does not mean our ways are wrong." Now it was her turn to sound defensive.
"No, that's not true." As he spoke, Bellamy's agitation increased. "They're babies, Echo. They've done nothing to deserve death! They should have a chance, at least." Lovejoy's child swam up at him through grey memories: eager smile, bright eyes, honey-brown hair begging for a father's hand to tousle it gently at bedtime. Bellamy tried to push the nightmare away. He failed.
"It's not about them. It's about keeping our blood safe." Echo's quiet response made Bellamy feel ill. It was the worst kind of logic. It was the kind of logic that forced mothers to hide children under the floor. It was Ark logic.
"Not good enough." He stood, hands raised to show he was unarmed, and called to the pair at the bottom of the hill in Trigedasleng: "Heya!"
"Yu na jak osir dina op?"
"… Shit." Bellamy had no idea what they were saying. He turned to Echo for help, but she sat back with a smirk, waiting to see what he would do next. Bellamy searched through the vocabulary Lincoln had taught him, scraping together a hasty reply. Dina meant "food" – maybe they were hungry.
"Ai laik Belomi kom Skaikru, en ai… ste… yu dina," he knew he got it wrong when Echo started laughing outright.
"Enough, heda. You just told them you're their next meal. I'll take it from here." She stood to intervene but one of the people at the bottom answered in broken English.
"Skaikru, huh? Your Trigedasleng so piss-bad!" The man's partner laughed. "I say: you try to take we's food?"
It wasn't the response Bellamy had expected. "What food?" he called back.
"Phemus! Fool! Don't say we got food!"
"Piss off. I say nothing, fool!"
Bellamy turned back to Echo, but she was staring down the hill in surprise.
"We have plenty," he called. "We're not here to steal yours." Echo hissed at the confession. Below, a rush of eager Trigedasleng followed. Bellamy tried to understand, but it was too rushed, not like Lincoln's carefully enunciated lessons.
"Yu beda teik ai jak emo dina op, Remus!"
"Em pleni!" Echo shouted suddenly, and Bellamy knew whatever was being said, it wasn't friendly. "Ai laik trikru gona, en dison skaikru gona ste yuj!"
"What the hell is happening?" Bellamy murmured. Echo growled at him, but offered a whispered explanation nonetheless.
"They were planning to jump us for our food. I said we're warriors; they won't dare attack now." Below them, Echo's news was having the desired effect.
"Shit! Phemus, you get we killed now, sure!
"Nobody has to die," Bellamy pointed out. "We're just passing through."
"I like he," the one called Remus laughed. "Hey, Skaikru gona! We all share food, then we's friends, okay?"
Timo stepped in front of Raven as she was heading for Sinclair's work tent.
"Hey there, killer," she greeted him with a grin. The grounder warrior smiled briefly at the friendly abuse, but his more typical half-frown returned almost immediately.
"I want to go too." First Jasper, now Timo… was the whole camp trying to come with them?
"Oh, Timo, I don't know…" Raven liked him; the reformed Reaper was older than Lincoln, his skin darker and more heavily tattooed, but they both carried themselves with a surprising grace. And both seemed far too gentle to be warriors.
"I can hunt, I can protect you."
"I'm sure that's true, but has Abby cleared you yet? A few of the others relapsed just last week, you know."
"I know. I'm stronger than they were. I need to be useful, Raven." It was one of the longest speeches Raven had ever heard from Timo. Her mouth twisted to the side as she considered him carefully.
"Yeah, okay. Couldn't hurt to have a little more muscle on hand just in case, right? We leave in thirty minutes. Be ready at the main gate, or I'll leave without you." For a moment Raven thought Timo was going to grab her in a grateful hug, but instead he just smiled broadly – the best smile she had seen on him since Abby and Octavia first brought the Reapers back to Camp for detox.
"Raven?" Sinclair's voice from just inside the tent reminded her of her meeting, and she waved goodbye to Timo before stepping through the open doorway to find the chief engineer standing protectively in front of his workbench.
"Hey boss, you wanted to see me?"
"Yes. Wick and I have something for you. We wanted to put it through some more tests but it seems we've run out of time for that." Sinclair shifted to the side, sweeping his arm over the workbench as he revealed a new brace for Raven's leg. It was hideous: clunky, heavier-looking than her current model, and obviously engineered to within an inch of its life.
"It's a… huh. Okay." Raven wished Kyle were here. She could give Kyle shit for bad design. Sinclair was another matter. "I think… it's very…"
"Alright, alright, it's ugly, we know! We weren't worried about aesthetics, we were thinking about... distance." Something like youthful excitement glowed in Sinclair's friendly brown eyes as he walked around the device. "Pneumatics to simulate a more natural gait, counter-balanced for better weight distribution, and Wick even rigged it to capture your kinetic energy and convert it to electric for a little extra boost whenever you're battling muscle fatigue. We also customized the fittings to reduce pinch and friction." He feigned ignorance. "Wick has a surprisingly good memory for the circumference of your leg."
Raven tried not to cry as she hugged Sinclair, but failed miserably.
"It's really damn beautiful," she choked into his shoulder. What she meant to say was: I don't know what it feels like to have a father, but I bet it feels like this.
"Yeah, well. You better bring it back to me in one piece," Sinclair huffed. He hoped Raven heard the other part: Come back in one piece, kiddo.
Remus, the older twin, was blind in his left eye. Phemus wore a patch over his right, and refused to remove it because, as Remus explained, people usually became ill at the sight. Both men had too few fingers on one hand, and one of them – it got confusing remembering who was who after a while – happily pulled off a boot to reveal his extra toe. Bellamy and Echo sat on a mossy log near the small fire the brothers had built, Echo twitchy with the expectation of an impending ambush, Bellamy fascinated and slightly disturbed at the same time.
The meal was filling but unimaginative, and the brothers talked nonstop. Echo translated whenever they got too excited and slipped into Trigedasleng. Bellamy was grateful; while the twins' English was not great, it was miles ahead of his Grounder. She was clearly surprised to learn their hosts were not true outcasts. They had been born to exiled parents – one of several families living in a small village of their own not far from tondc. Bellamy raised an eyebrow at her, tempted to say "I told you so" but suppressing the urge for now.
"Are there other exile communities?" he asked instead, and the twins laughed. More than anyone realized, they said. The outcasts knew how to be quieter than deer, to move faster than warriors. According to them, the Forest Clan did not even realize how often they were being watched. These days almost all the defective children were scooped up and taken to these secret villages within an hour of being abandoned. There, they were adopted by the entire community and taught from toddlerhood never to reveal themselves near the Forest Clan people. Bellamy shivered at the idea of all those children leading a shadow existence. Echo's face, pale with shock, indicated she was as overwhelmed by the news as he.
"Trikru thinks we's young ones is weak," Phemus announced. He looked at Echo. "We's yuj. Strong," he translated with a quick smile at Bellamy before turning back to frown at Echo. His tone changed, his face darkening with anger and resentment.
"We's strong. And we's lots. Watch out, gona. One day soon… osir na zog raun, osir breik au. Den, yo sou na bants."
Echo jumped up, pulling two knives from the waistband of her pants and hissing at Bellamy to get back. He rose but stayed by the log.
"Put the damn knives away!" he ordered.
"Yeh, put the damn knives away!" Remus parroted. He was standing now too, reaching for a spear leaning against a nearby tree.
"Bellamy, let's go. There's no way to be friends with these… things."
Bellamy, completely lost, held his hands up palms out and chose his words carefully. "Whatever just happened, let's talk about it," he tried. Peace was fucking hard work, but he tried. Clarke would have been proud of him, for how hard he tried not to let death happen here.
"No more talking! He just declared war on my people!" Echo growled. Gone was the easy posture of their morning hike; she held herself like a wild creature crouched to strike.
"Yeh, fights then? Okay," Phemus grinned. His mouth lacked enough teeth to make it a friendly gesture, and he grabbed the small axe that had been used to chop up firewood earlier. "She tell you, Skaikru gona? We eat the dead? She's spichen, she tell you that. Lying. Trikru gona always lying."
Bellamy turned horrified eyes on Echo. "Cannibalism?"
"…There are rumors…"
"No, gona. We's just kill you, not eat you. Den ai jak yo dina op, Skaikru gona." Phemus grinned. "I's take you food, after all."
Echo was fast. Both knives had left her fingers before Bellamy could draw his gun. But the twins really were faster. They twisted to the side; Remus avoided one blade completely and the other plunged deeply into Phemus' fleshy arm. He let out a small grunt of surprise and pain; Remus paused to see what was wrong. A wordless roar erupted. When he looked back at Echo, his face had been transformed by rage. He hefted his spear and took a step toward her... but by then Bellamy had settled his rifle against his shoulder. He aimed for a knee, squeezing the trigger gently. Remus collapsed, cried out for his brother as he fell, and Phemus looked at Bellamy. Furious.
"Hurt my brother?! Now you die!" He lunged forward and Bellamy realized his rifle was useless at such close range.
"Dammit!" Bellamy dropped his rifle, grabbing blindly for the pistol hidden at his waist as Phemus bore down on him. Just before they collided, Phemus and his axe a blurred perversion of humanity, Bellamy freed his gun and raised it high, firing three quick shots point-blank into the face of his attacker.
Momentum continued to propel the now-eyeless corpse forward, and Bellamy fell under the weight of his attacker's body.
"Shit! Echo?" He struggled free and scrambled over the green forest floor to his rifle, part of his brain searching for Echo's body as he moved through the sudden silence.
"Echo!" Remus must have gotten her. He had to be here somewhere... He had to die.
"Heda!" Bellamy looked up and saw her, crouched beside the body of the older twin, retrieving an arrow from his throat. "We have to leave. Now." Bellamy felt relief pour over him, temporarily weakening his limbs.
"Wait, Echo, are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Let's go," she urged. Bellamy paused. If the men's stories were true; if outcasts were always out here, quietly watching…
"Yes. Let's go." Bellamy hoisted the rifle onto his left shoulder and slid the handgun back into place at his waist. He waited until Echo was a few steps ahead before grabbing a scrap of fabric off one of the fallen twins and wrapping it hastily around the deep, angry red gash in his forearm.
Then he jogged forward, as eager as she to get away from the smell of death already building in the warm damp air.
Okay... so. Thoughts? Let me know!
(And as promised, translations if you're interested)
Yu na jak osir dina op? = Are you going to take our food?
Ai laik Belomi kom Skaikru, en ai… ste… yu dina. = I'm Bellamy of the Sky People and I… is... your food.
Yu beda teik ai jak emo dina op, Remus! = You should let me take THEIR food, Remus!
Em pleni! = That's enough!
Ai laik trikru gona, en dison skaikru gona ste yuj! = I'm a Woods Clan Warrior, and this Sky People warrior is strong!
Osir na zog raun, osir na breik au. Den, yo sou na bants. = We're going to attack, and we'll be free. Then you (Woods Clan) will leave.
Den ai jak yo dina op, Skaikru gona. = Then I'll take your food, Sky People warrior.