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"One of you must stay behind."
The beating of Clarke's heart sounded hollow to her own ears. It was like getting hit square between the eyes, and the dizzy feeling that follows afterwards. Her brain fought to wrap around Lexa's decree, and she knew that no matter how she looked at it, it wasn't pretty.
"You can't be serious," Bellamy shook his head fast, his dark eyes wide and expressive. Clarke noticed the way his nostrils flared and fingers curled into fists.
"Of course I am." Lexa spoke with total calm and control, her voice like a smooth sheet of ice. "I need a way to hold Clarke to her side of the deal, and that is how I will do it."
Monty gave a groan and Clarke couldn't hold back any longer. Her feet finally uprooted themselves as she ran to Monty's side, dropping next to her friend. She was aware of how the guards were ready to spring at her, but Lexa held them back with raised hand. Gently shifting Monty to his other side, Clarke saw the dark stain just above his hip. The river pirates had crudely bandaged his wound, doing so to keep him alive long enough to bring him to Polis. Clarke was certain he'd need stitches and a proper dressing.
"Clarke," Lexa's voice snapped her back to the present. "A decision must be made."
She felt a hand grip her shoulder, large and comforting. Bellamy's face hovered above hers, pain – a completely different kind than Monty's – etched in his features.
"I'll do it, Clarke," he said, keeping his voice quiet. "I can stay behind."
She shook her head, adamant. "No. You have your sister. You have Octavia."
"It wouldn't be forever," he said solemnly, before raising his voice. "Lexa, how long would you keep the volunteer with you?"
"That is Commander to you," she said in a firm tone. "And they would stay until peace can be guaranteed, through public proclamation or a written doctrine."
"You can't stay behind," said Clarke. "You can't leave your sister behind. She needs you." A small nagging part of her brain almost led her to say I need you too, but she figured now wasn't the time or place.
"I can stay." Jasper had crouched on the other side of Monty, and now he spoke in a soft voice.
The thought of leaving Jasper behind tugged too hard on Clarke's heartstrings, and she shook tears out of her eyes. "There's got to be another way. There must be…"
"No." The word was surprisingly strong and firm, coming from Monty. He pushed himself up on his elbows, trying to get in a sitting position. When he struggled too much and winced, Bellamy sat behind him and propped him up the way he wanted to be. "I'm going to stay behind."
"What?" Clarke hissed, "Monty, that's crazy."
"No, that's realistic." She could see the effort it took for him to speak, but he did it anyways. "You heard Lexa, she was impressed by what I know about poison. I could be useful here, and as long as I'm useful, I stay alive."
"Monty, you're broken."
"Then fix me up, Clarke, and let me go. I'll stay here until you become queen and settle things between Ark and Trikru."
Jasper's face grew darker, "But I don't want you to stay behind! I don't want to leave you behind."
"Either way, it's you or me Jasper." Monty looked oddly calm, a slight sad smile on his lips and in his widened eyes. "At least if I stay, I can be useful. You, well, you're hopeless."
Clarke wished Monty's casual joking was doing more to make her feel better, but it didn't. She couldn't leave him behind.
"Lexa," she said, standing up shakily. She could feel her body trembling from exhaustion and emotion. "I – I can't make a decision like that. Not now." Clarke noticed the light spilling in through the high-up windows at the top of the stone chamber. The pale blue sky had changed, growing darker and spilling sunlight from a setting sun. "It's growing late. I can't imagine you'll have us leave Polis just before nightfall."
Lexa nodded slowly, "You will stay the night, then leave in the morning. The three of you."
"Then give us until morning to work this out." Clarke briefly met Bellamy's gaze, each face a mirror of the other's concern. Still, she was glad to have him at her side. "Please, Commander."
Their shared look did not go unnoticed by Lexa. Clarke saw a muscle tighten in her jaw, bringing a stony composure to her already-intimidating façade. "You will have until morning to decide. In the meantime, Clarke of Ark, you are invited to join me for evening meal at my dining tent."
Clarke hadn't been expecting that. "Just me?"
"You alone."
"But- What about Monty?"
"Your friend will be taken care of," Lexa dismissed it like it was a minor detail, not a person's life hanging by a thread.
Clarke knew what was the right thing to do, the logical, wise thing to do. She knew what she should do, as a royal representing the nation of Ark. But instead, she decided to simply be Clarke.
"I can't." She said earnestly. "I can't leave my friends. Right now, I need to be here with them."
"You do not refuse an offer from the Commander like this," Indra warned, her voice low and gravelly.
"I'm sorry." Clarke had nothing more to say.
An awkward silence hung like a low cloud in the air, thick and oppressing. Finally, Lexa saw that Clarke wasn't about to change her mind. "Very well then. Teik em we," she snapped out at the guards in the shadows. They moved forwards in synchronized swiftness, and Clarke felt herself being grabbed from behind. She skidded across the stone floor on her rear, arms pulled roughly to her back.
"Hey, hey!" She yelled, head whipping around to see her friends treated the same way. Monty was entirely limp, Bellamy and Jasper were putting up a considerable struggle. "Lexa!"
"By declining my invitation, you made it clear that you are not my guest, Clarke of Ark." Lexa did nothing to conceal the bitterness in her voice. "If you are not my guest, you are my prisoner."
"But I need to save Monty!" Clarke fought wildly, thrashing her shoulders and kicking out behind her. "I need to get to Monty! I-" She opened her mouth to yell again, only to have her temple smacked with a strong backhand swing. Her head slammed to the side, teeth rattling.
"Clarke!" She heard Bellamy call her name, a ferocity in his voice that she didn't hear often. The sounds of a scuffle meant he was getting dragged off in the opposite direction from her. "Clarke!"
"Bellamy!" Tears spilled down her cheeks and stars danced before her eyes. "Bellamy…."
Clarke had been staring at the floor with an intense glare when she heard the flap to her tent rustle. A Trikru guard entired, a towering man with a full bushy beard and swirling blue tattoos dancing across his face. Clarke lifted her head, ignoring the throbbing pain forming at her temple.
He bent down next to her, where her hands were tied to the main support pole of the tent. She flinched when his large hands brushed her skin, but then realized that he'd cut her bindings.
Clarke dove at the guard, catching him by surprise and tackling him. They rolled until, by his strength, he landed on top of Clarke. He pinned her down with his knee, then sat up. "I'm not here to fight you, royal blood. I'm to bring you to your friends."
Clarke stopped struggling, face showing the confusion she felt. She'd assumed that each of them had been separated from each other, but now she understood that only she had been separated from the other three. Probably Lexa's punishment for turning down the dinner invitation.
Released, Clarke rose slowly to standing. Distantly, she heard the guard introduce himself as Nyko, but she barely registered it; she was more concerned about reaching her companions, namely Monty. Nyko grasped her shoulder from behind, firmly steering her down a winding path past a number of identical animal-hide tents. They came to a rough halt outside a tent that looked no different from the others, and when Nyko barked something in Trigedaslang to the guard outside the front, Clarke was pushed inside.
"Clarke!" She heard Jasper's gasp and found her friend sitting on his knees. Bellamy was pacing by the center of the tent, his face swollen and bruised from a struggle. Both still had their hands tied behind their backs.
Bellamy took three quick steps to Clarke, relief showing in his eyes. It was strange to see such a vulnerable emotion so clearly on his face. Fully aware of Nyko's presence behind her, Clarke ignored her better judgment and made quick work slipping Bellamy's hands out from his bindings. Released, he swallowed Clarke in a warm embrace that caught her off guard. He exhaled a shaky breath into her hair. "I had no idea where they'd taken you." He said, his voice quiet. "I thought… I thought they…"
"I'm okay," she reassured him, then pulled away remembering everyone else in the tent. She untied Jasper's bindings, giving him a quick hug before noticing Monty on the floor. He – thankfully – wasn't bound, but he was laying on his back with a face as pale as bone. Clarke knelt at his side, examining the messy bandages over the slice wound.
"I have supplies." Nyko's gruff voice cut the tight tension in the tent, and he unfurled a straw mat filled with rudimentary medical tools. Clarke knew exactly what she would need: clean bandages, disinfectant, and a suture kit. She took a quick inventory based on what Nyko had showed her.
"What is this?" She held up a cloudy bottle with a strange liquid inside.
"It will clean the wound."
"Will it keep away infection?" Nyko nodded in reply, so Clarke unstoppered it and gave a quick sniff. The dizzying odor told her it was some sort of alcohol. She reached for a clean - or relatively clean, by Trikru standards - rag, dipped it in the bottle, and began to dab at Monty's side. His body convulsed when she touched him, and it took both Bellamy and Jasper to keep him pinned down. Clarke moved quickly, but she couldn't keep her hands from shaking. Once she had the wound mostly clean, she could see it for what it was: a streaking slash a good five inches long. Clarke moved on to the suture kit, sanitizing the one needle she had and threading it. Her fingers trembled as they skirted over Monty's flesh, but by the time she'd finishing her stitches were decent enough to hold. She covered the wound with fresh bandages and secured them with ties around his waist.
Monty's breathing was slow and shallow, and soon he drifted off to sleep. Clarke rested back, bloody hands resting on her knees. Her head felt thick, thick with worry and fear and Lexa's condition hanging ominously in her mind.
"Clarke." Bellamy was gentle but no-nonsense in his tone. "We should talk."
She followed him to a corner of the tent, well aware that Jasper and Nyko could probably still hear them if they listened, but not really caring. She noticed how Bellamy kept his voice down anyways. "We need to have a plan, considering Lexa's condition about one of us staying behind."
"I can't leave anyone behind, Bellamy." She heard her voice break.
"We don't have a choice. Even if we could sneak out of Polis, and that would take a miracle or two in itself, there's no way we could make it all the way to the river without getting caught."
"Then what do we do?" What do I do?
"Maybe Monty was right."
"No." She barely let the words leave his lips before shutting him down. "There's no way I'm leaving Monty behind. Not in a condition like this."
"You heard him; Lexa was impressed by his skills. He can stay in her care, working for the Commander until you make the peace deal official."
"Do you hear yourself right now?" Clarke asked, incredulous. "You can't actually be serious? Leaving Monty behind?"
"One of us has to stay behind. You already said you won't let me stay."
"It wouldn't make sense. You have Octavia to take care of."
"If Jasper were to stay, the most he could hope for would be to become a slave in Lexa's court. There's no way they'd treat him like a guest if he can't be useful, and I don't think they're exactly looking for moonshine brewers in the Polis royal court."
"There's got to be another way." Clarke ran a hand through her hair, feeling the tangles and dirt matting her curls. Her head felt like it would explode, as she drowned in a churning sea of emotions and decisions. "We've just got to think-"
The guard from outside the tent hurried in, eyes stormy. "Time's up."
"No," Clarke froze, begging to Nyko. "No, please, just a few more minutes." Nyko looked conflicted, ultimately giving in to the decrees of the other guard. He grabbed Clarke's shoulder again and began steering her towards the tent's flap.
"Bellamy, Jasper, don't do anything until the morning." Clarke held her shaking voice steady, trying to muster up as much strength in her words. She needed time to figure this out. "Just wait until the morning."
Bellamy wouldn't meet her eyes as she was pulled from the tent.
Clarke marched with heavy feet back to her old tent. Once inside, Nyko lashed her hands together, this time in front rather than behind her back. He left the tent without a word, leaving Clarke to her thick silence. Seeing nothing else to stay awake for, she felt the weight of exhaustion drag down her shoulders. She crossed to her bedmat, which consisted of a few musty firs stacked on each other, sank to the ground and curled up to catch some sleep.
"Your Majesty, it's time to come to bed." Queen Abby slowly turned from the window at the sound of her nursemaid's voice. The moonlight played off her face, elongating the hollows in her cheeks and bags underneath her eyes. The news about her daughter had given her another spell of life, but it was starting to wane. It had been more than a week without any news.
"Yes, Sophia," Abby nodded and crossed to the side of her bed. Sitting down, she kicked a satin slipper off each foot, lost in her thoughts. Somewhere, out there in the night, was Clarke. Her daughter. Or, maybe it was Clarke. But maybe it was another girl, a girl who shared Clarke's appearance but not her family. And she might come home, but she might not. Kane, for reasons Abby didn't understand, only sent one of his guards to retrieve her. What if the lone guard had been unsuccessful in locating Clarke? Or what if something had happened to them on the way back?
What if it wasn't Clarke at all?
Abby settled back onto her pillows, letting her narrow frame settle into the plush beneath her. Just as she closed her eyes her diaphragm clenched, sending her into another round of dizzying coughs. She lurched forwards, hand covered her mouth while the other grabbed blindly at the bedclothes to stabilize herself. Sophia's firm hand clasped Abby's shoulder, letting the queen finish her fit.
When Abby pulled her hand away from her mouth, it was dotted with blood.
"Here, ma'am." Sophia dabbed at Abby's palm with a handkerchief, moving to the nightstand and sliding open the top drawer. She extracted the familiar bottle of medicine that Abby was prescribed to take when her coughing became too rough. Sophia spooned out the foul syrup and Abby swallowed it, the pungent taste replacing the taste of blood in her mouth.
"I fear it's getting worse, Sophia." Abby spoke grimly.
"Shall I send for Doctor Jackson?" Sophia wore a look of concern.
"No, not at this hour." Abby settled back onto the pillows. "I'll talk to him in the morning."
Sophia buzzed around, tugging Abby's sheets up to her neck and fluffing the pillows out behind her. She spoke softly, saying something about replacing Abby's sagging pillows with new ones soon. "I'll present the inquiry to the Chancellor tomorrow," Sophia hummed. "Remember how he recommended the best down farm last time? He's got brilliant taste, the Chancellor. Even in pillows."
Abby's last thought, before drifting off to sleep, was how peculiar it was that the Chancellor would spend his time on a matter as trivial as pillows.
Clarke awoke to the sound of people in her tent. She jolted upright too quickly, her head spinning as the blood rushed to keep up. There were four Trikru warriors in the small tent: Nyko, with his full beard and tattoos; two new guards that she didn't recognize, each heavily armed; and Lexa, the commander herself, walking with a confidence that was practically radiant.
"Time to leave, Clarke of Ark." She kept her head up and vacant of expression, so it was impossible to gauge how she felt about letting her prisoners go.
"What, what do you mean?" Clarke asked, confused.
"You have met the conditions for you release, so you will be free to leave. A team of my guards will escort you to the river port, where the remains of your crew have been kept. From there, you can return to your country."
A part of Clarke was surprised to hear that some of The Phoenix's crew was still alive, but there were bigger questions to be answered. She was still left in the dark.
"But I never agreed to the deal," she insisted honestly. "I never gave you someone to leave behind."
"You didn't." Lexa's green eyes held an edge in them like the side of a blade. "But your friend, Monty, did. He will be of much use in my court."
"No." The word slipped past Clarke's lips, her jaw falling slack as her brain put two-and-two together. All of a sudden, her hands felt clammy and a cold sweat dampened her brow. "No, it can't be. Not Monty, please! He's hurt, he can't stay."
"As long as he proves his value here in Polis, he will be fine." Lexa's tone made it clear she felt Clarke was overreacting. "And the sooner the queen and I can broker a deal for peace, the sooner your friend can go home." She made a gesture to Nyko and one of her personal guards, who each grabbed one of Clarke's shoulders and steered her from the tent.
"No!" Clarke was digging her heels into the dirt, trying to stay rooted. But their brute strength was too much for her. She whipped her head around, fighting to keep her eyes trained on Lexa, pleading. "Lexa, please, don't take Monty! Don't take Monty from me!"
She was aware of the fact that the guards were dragging her out onto the main road out of Polis, aware of Bellamy and Jasper joining her. Jasper's eyes were swollen and ringed with red, while Bellamy kept his gaze on the ground. Clarke was openly sobbing. "I didn't get to say goodbye!" Her body shook with the wracking cries, and she craned her neck as if she would see Monty's familiar face hiding among the tents and buildings of Lexa's compound. "I didn't get to say goodbye…"
"Come." Nyko commanded her, pushing her forward with the heel of his hand pressing deep into her shoulder. "We move out now."
The sobs eventually subsided to silent tears, then total numbness. Clarke knew that the marching journey would reopen her blisters from the day before – and it did – but she couldn't feel the pain. Even the sensation in her bad leg was little more than a dull ache. She was numb and emotionless, her mind sluggishly slow in processing the fact that she'd just left behind her best friend.
And it wasn't even her choice.
Thankfully, neither Jasper nor Bellamy spoke a word during the trek. In Clarke's eyes, they were both traitors. Regardless of how logical the decision might have seemed to them, or Monty for that matter, she couldn't move past the fact that they'd let him stay behind. Monty: smart, clever, kind-hearted Monty; broken, injured, dying Monty. Her hands clenched into fists at the thought alone, picturing Monty all by himself in Lexa's clutches. Only the sensation of pain, as her fingernails drew blood digging into her palms, brought her back to reality.
She lost all track of time. The sun rose higher in the sky until it was scorching, then began to lower. It must've been a few hours past midday when the river first came into view. The thick forest trees began to thin out, and the soil underfoot changed to something rockier. A primitive wooden shack came into view, blending perfectly in with its surroundings, built with dark wood and moss growing on the roof. One of the guards in their party rapped three times on the front door. A small slot opened up, revealing just the eyes of another Trikru man inside, and they exchanged a few quick whispers in Trigedaslang before the door was flung open.
A handful of sailors from The Phoenix, hands and feet in shackles, stumbled out of the house. Clarke recognized Captain Quint towards the rear, though he looked entirely different with his uniform tattered and steely hair lopsided. He wore a vacant look in his eyes and shadowy bags underneath.
The guard who'd knocked on the door marched right up to Quint, getting right in his face. "Your ship has been spared. The Commander orders you to bring these Arkians back to your nation."
When Quint raised his head, his expression was oddly serene. It was all quiet, except for the usual hum of the forest and distant sound of the river, when he spoke. "I don't take orders from your commander." His gaze drifted to Clarke. "I serve the Princess."
The Trikru guard took a swing at Quint's face, catching him in the cheek and sending the older man's head reeling. His hot breath filled the captain's face. "You will sail your ship, or I'll slit your throat and find another sailor to do it in your place."
Quint stumbled backwards, eyes watching Clarke with a question in his eyes. He was waiting for her word. All she could do was nod yes to the guard's command. She needed to get home somehow.
They approached the riverbank, and Clarke recognized the battered shape of The Phoenix silhouetted against the green water. The hull was still cracked on one side, but at least the boat was able to stay afloat. The main mast and sail remained intact, and after the threadbare crew made a quick scan of the ship they deemed it fit enough for travel. Clarke was prodded up the gangplank, returning onto the familiar deck of the ship. Her hands were still bound – as were Bellamy's and Jasper's – when the Trikrus started leaving.
"Hey!" Jasper called out. "Are you going to untie us?"
One of the guards snorted, reaching into his belt and withdrawing a knife. He tossed it onto the deck with little regard showing in his face. "Cut yourself free." With that, the Trikru warriors slipped back into the trees and out of sight.
It took several minutes for The Phoenix to finally pull away from the shore. The ship was lacking in sailors, and the ones that were alive were haggard and tired. They were fighting unfamiliar currents, but eventually they mastered the controls enough to bring the ship out to the center of the river and moving northwards.
Bellamy had been the first one to grab the knife and cut his hands free. Afterwards he went to cut Clarke's ties, but she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of helping her. She pulled the knife from his hands and struggled with it before slicing her ties herself. From that moment on, she kept her distance from both Bellamy and Jasper, remaining alone on the far side of the deck. She'd hoped that she was sending a clear message to them – stay away – but Bellamy eventually approached her anyways.
"Clarke," he began unsteadily. "I know you think you could've found a way out of this, a way to get all four of us released. But you heard Lexa. It's a small miracle that she let three of her prisoners go, she never would've let four leave."
Clarke shook her head slowly, eyes on the river. "You don't know what I think."
"You think you could've convinced her, but she wasn't looking to bargain. It would've been a waste of your time."
"We don't know that!" Clarke spun, eyes fiery. "We don't know if she would've listened. We don't know if Monty's going to be okay, or…" Her voice choked. "I abandoned him, Bellamy. We all did. How are you supposed to tell me that that's okay?"
"Because Monty saw the bigger picture." Bellamy took a step forward, which in turn made Clarke back up against the ship's side. "He gave himself up so that you could go free. It's not just about the four of us; he saw something greater."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm talking about Lexa's peace bargain. Monty knew that Lexa wouldn't make that peace pact without some insurance, so he made himself the insurance." There was raw emotion written all over Bellamy's face; Clarke could tell that losing Monty had upset him, but he was fighting to see the logic in it. "Monty didn't just sacrifice his freedom for us, he did it for the whole country. To guarantee peace and prevent a war."
Clarke grabbed a fistful of her hair, frustrated. How can Bellamy really be arguing with me about this? "If it was such a noble and heroic thing to do, then why didn't you step up and do it?" She fired back. "You let an invalid sacrifice himself and stood by doing nothing?"
Bellamy's expression darkened, recognizing the direction Clarke was going in. "You said it yourself. I have Octavia. I have family that I have to get back to, family that's relying on me."
"Family," Clarke gave a humorless laugh, hands clenching and unclenching in between fists. "Let me ask you this: If Octavia was in Monty's place, what would you have done?"
His eyes widened. "Don't do that, Clarke."
"What would you have done?"
"I would've done anything it took to keep Octavia out of harm's way." He said it with strength and truth in his voice. "Even if it meant sacrificing himself."
"And why would you do that?"
"Isn't it obvious? She's my sister."
"Then why can't you see why it's wrong to have left Monty behind?" Clarke felt the anger bottling up inside of her. "Monty is nothing less than a brother to me!"
"That's different, Clarke. Octavia is my family."
"Monty is my family to!" Clarke was shouting now. "What, because we're not blood related Monty can't be considered my brother? He and Jasper are the closest thing to family that I've had throughout most of my life!" Her body trembled with emotion. "Monty has been my family for the last ten years, the only family I can say I really know. There's so much I don't remember about my father, and I don't really know my mother! You and your bond to your sister, that's my bond with Monty! He may not be my real brother, but I consider him my brother in this life."
"You've got another life too." Bellamy insisted. "And that life is waiting for you at the palace. Monty understood that you have to get to the throne, for the good of the rest of Ark. That's why he gave himself up! To get you home!"
"That's not my home!"
"It is now. And the sooner you get that idea through your head, the better." Clarke had never seen him like this: truly mad. "You are rooted in your past, Clarke Griffin. The last ten years happened, so what? Move on. You're going to be queen, and you've got to accept that. Yeah, you call Monty your family, whatever. But you've got other family at the palace too: your mom, who's never really given up on you; your betrothed, who's waiting for you to return. You've got another life, and you've got to start living it."
Clarke clenched her jaw, feeling the muscles under her ears tighten. When she spoke, her voice was quiet but full of pure loathing. "Maybe that's it, then. When I get to Station City, I can disappear into my other life, and I will never have to see you again." She could see the pain she'd inflicted on him with her words, just a flickering falter in his eyes, but she didn't care.
Or at least that's what she told herself when she turned and stormed away.
The setting sun hung just halfway down the horizon when General Kane was alerted of the arrival. He'd been neck-deep in reports from the old battlefields – where the Trikru army was amassing – all day long, so he'd opted to take his dinner in his office. Having just finished off his modest meal of roast goose and vegetables, he sat penning a reply to one of his subordinate officers when the page appeared at his door, chest heaving and breath short.
"Your presence is required in the great hall, General." The page huffed out. "Immediately."
Kane sprung from his seat, taking large quick strides towards the door. He pushed past the page, mind racing. The first conclusion he came to, hauntingly, was Abby. If something had happened to the ailing queen, then the matter would be more than urgent. He quickened his already-flying pace.
When he approached the heavy cherry doors to the main hall, he didn't wait for the attendant guards to open them: he pushed them open himself. "What's wrong?" The question escaped his lips before he noticed the other two people at the center of the hall. Chancellor Jaha stood, dressed in his typical dark attire and a thick fur cape over his shoulders, with his face showing a muted reflection of Kane's own confusion. Waiting beside him, wrapped in a lavish dressing gown twice her size, was the queen, her face flushed with a hint of a rosy blush. Seeing her upright and well brought relief to Kane's nerves, but it didn't answer his question.
"I don't know," Abby stammered, gaze shifting between Kane and Jaha.
A different set of doors opened slowly. From behind them, a cluster of royal guards entered the hall, escorting the most ragged trio Kane had ever seen in the palace. There were two men, each with dark hair, and he might've recognized the larger one as his own cadet if he hadn't been so focused on the blond girl in the middle. Her features were the unmistakable combination of Jacob and Abigail Griffin.
She took two steps beyond the front of the group, exposing her left wrist and the royal mark that was tattooed there.
"My name is Clarke Griffin, and I believe you were looking for me."
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Yup. That's where we're gonna leave it! Mwahahahaha.
I have never, in my entire life, written so much in such a short amount of time as I've been doing lately. I think all of your lovely and supportive reviews are getting to me! Time to answer some:
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BookwormBecca99 - Glad to hear you liked chapter 11! And you called Monty! Kudos to you. As for Bellamy, well, things are going to get tricky for him. "The course of true love never did run smooth" sums it up pretty well. He's going to remain a very important player in all of this. Thanks for your review!
ace-121 - Can you tell I like the "good ole fashion dramama"? ;) Things are only going to get wilder from here. And that's crazy, what you said about Lexa! I love it! I'm not a big Lexa fan myself, mainly out of some questionable character traits and, yeah, the whole backstabbing betrayal that's hard to look past. But she plays a key role in this story so I'm glad that you were happy with my interpretation of her. Thanks for the review!
oberjean - Awww garsh thanks so much! The flow and pacing of this story has been coming really naturally for me right now, which (lemme stress this) is not normal for me. But it makes it soooooo much fun to write this fic. And it's been a blast writing for such dynamic characters as this show has. I love it. Thanks for your review!
100vampires - You are too sweet! I don't know if it's the plot or the world or the characters, but I've never had as much fun writing a story before. I'm always looking forward to time when I can just sit down and write, and I think the support from kind readers like you is why! (And who doesn't love Monty? He's brilliant.) Thanks for your review!
Alex - Glad to hear from you again! And now I see why writers love including cliffhangers, haha it's actually pretty fun. I'm excited to move into this new part of the story, we're building to the climax here! Thanks for the review!
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Keep those reviews/favorites/follows coming, folks! They're like kindling to my writer's fire, and I appreciate every single one. Give me your thoughts on this latest chapter, and any predictions you have for what's coming up, both above ground and below!
Forever grateful to my readers,
-K.T. Grace