/* Author's Note: I'm sorry Updates Have Taken So Long, Life has gotten the better of me :( I'll try to get my ahead of chapters again and post more regularly. Once again thanks to those that read and review I really appreciate the feedback and knowing that you guys and gals are enjoying what I'm putting together.*/
Octavia knew she should feel some sense of loss at the sight of the burning and twisted metals of Camp Jaha. She knew she should feel like something was missing when she looked at the destruction she helped cause but that place had never been her home. Bellamy and her mother hid her in the floorboards and when she was discovered she was treated like a criminal just for being born.
She had always felt at home in the woods down on Earth. She had more in common with the Grounders that lived in them than the Sky People that invaded it.
She still loved her brother and her friends. They were the last strands of the threads that kept her tethered to the Skaikru but she knew she'd never have a place among them. She'd never feel a part of their world no matter how hard Clarke, Bellamy and the others tried to make her feel like one of them. She knew Bellamy hated how at home she felt in the forest. She knew that he feared that he would lose her forever and he had already lost so many people.
They all had.
She heard Lincoln's feet shuffling along behind her. His feet falling sloppily on the fallen leaves at the edge of the trees. His signal to her that he was approaching. She knew he only walked like that so he did not startle her when she was so deep in thought. She loved him even more for being so considerate of the smallest of things.
They watched the thick black smoke billowing up into the sky. She knew it had to be visible for miles around. A symbol of the fall of the Skaikru for all to see. The remnants of the rocket fuel still stored on the ship had caused a massive blaze that burned fast and hot. Octavia could swear she could feel the heat of it from her hilltop spot on the edge of the trees. It was hard to picture how the land, now consumed with fire, could have been home to so many people just hours before.
"You did the right thing." Lincoln said.
It was as if Lincoln could see the conflict in Octavia's head and sometimes she wondered if he did in fact have the ability to read minds. Lincoln was so in tune with other people, Octavia was starting to worry that she had grown so comfortable in his presence that she was subconsciously speaking her thoughts aloud without even realizing it.
"You followed orders." Lincoln spoke again. "The guilt isn't yours to bear."
No matter how often Lincoln said those words, Octavia would still find it hard to believe. Especially when she's watching the fire grow so hot it could melt and twist the metal supports surrounding the camp and tear down the very structures she had helped erect. She can only feel like she had made a huge mistake.
It's the Grounder way. Octavia knows that. The Commander issues orders and you are to follow them, blindly. She guesses that's how it worked in a lot of places. The Chancellor orders a mother to be floated for having an extra child and the engineer presses the button to open the hatch without feeling like a murderer. There are laws. There is honor. There are leaders that decide who lives and who dies and it's their guilt to bear.
Octavia can only think of Clarke and the decision she made to irradiate the Mountain and the decision to burn the Grounders with the fires from the drop ship. How Clarke bears all the guilt so they don't have to. She knows her brother blames Clarke for leaving. She could sense the anger in his voice at ever mention of Clarke's name and knows he blames her for walking away but Octavia can understand Clarke's need to escape. Octavia knows she isn't the only one that finds peace in the woods and peace in nature. The animals, the birds, the forest provide a comfort that the artificial home of Camp Jaha could never give her. She wonders if it's almost a blessing that the camp burns. Maybe it's what needs to happen so they can forget about the people they used to be and become the people they need to be to survive on the land.
They are no longer in the Sky. They are no longer Sky People. They are Grounders now. Just like everybody else.
She wrapped her arms around Lincoln's bicep and leaned in to rest her head against his shoulder. She still hadn't gotten used to how much comfort a simple touch from him could provide. Lincoln seemed to just have this calming nature over her and bring her a sense of peace in even the most conflicted of states. She knew Lincoln could sense her anguish and she knew he would let her sit there for a few moments until the thoughts swimming in her head subsided. He would allow her to sit there for hours if she let him. She also knew they had so much to do and a long way to travel, so she pushed herself up to her feet. Making the choice so he wouldn't have to.
"We should get going." She said.
Lincoln rose and studied her intensely. She couldn't look into his eyes, afraid all of her secrets would fall out and onto him. Lincoln stepped forward and cradled her chin in his hands. He could kill a man with those hands but he still held Octavia's face as he would hold a newborn fawn. Soft and delicate, with the slightest of pressures to let her know she was being held, and that she was safe. He turned her head upwards so their eyes met and now Octavia couldn't look away from him. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to and she appreciated the fact that Lincoln wasn't one to give her false comfort. He just gave her the facts. She was just following orders. She was just doing what she had to do. She didn't have a choice.
He pulls her in for a chaste kiss before he heads back over to the horses that are tied up to a low hanging branch. The horses have taken advantage of the time off to nibble on the grass at their feet. Lincoln strides over to his horse, an all black mare with a thick black mane, and pats her on the side before he inspects the gear tied to the horses rear for loose straps. Octavia does the same for her favorite horse, hers is a brown mare that she has always used for her scouting missions for the camp. The horse is fast and seemed to know the moves Octavia was going to make before she even ordered her to make them. Lincoln had told her that that was common when a horse and it's rider formed a bond. They act as one and it could mean the difference between life and death. He had told her stories of a horse that knew to escape a fierce battle when his rider was incapacitated by arrows allowing them time to recover before diving back into the fray.
Her horse seems more weighted down by baggage and equipment as Lincoln's does and it worries her a bit. She has never traveled with all these supplies and she worries the added weight is harmful to her mare.
"This isn't too much?" Octavia asks.
Lincoln smiles at her like her concern for her horse is the most endearing thing. She isn't trying to be cute, this isn't a joke and Lincoln must see it in her face, or maybe she had spoken her frustration because Lincoln's smile fades quickly and his tone is serious when he finally speaks.
"They can hold a lot more weight then you'd imagine." Lincoln says in response. "You're also lighter than me." He adds as he tighten another strap around the back of the horse. "So your horse has a few more pounds."
It doesn't really do much to comfort her but she knows she doesn't have much of a choice. They have to carry these supplies north either way and they need to get there fast.
"Okay." Octavia says. She jumps up onto her horse and Lincoln mimics her on his own.
"We're going to have to make up some time." Lincoln calls back to her before his horse takes off at a full gallop.
Octavia gives her horse a solid pat before she follows.
Bellamy ran the back of his hand over a sleeping Clarke's forehead. Her skin was still warm to the touch and he doesn't really know why he had expected that to change. He had done nothing different. There was nothing he could do to help her, all he could do was sit there and hope that maybe Clarke would start to feel better but he knew better than that. That wasn't how things worked, Clarke needed to have her wounded cleaned. She needed antibiotics. They needed help.
Bellamy had lost track of time without access to windows or sunlight of any kind. He only had the constant low dim of a torchlight. They had been down there so long that he had grown accustomed to the darkness. He could see everything perfectly in the subtle darkness. He could make out the Commander's slumped form at the far side of the cell. She stood with her back against the wall, facing the pair of them. Part of him wondered if she was too cautious to go to sleep, afraid that Bellamy might attack her in her sleep. He would be lying if he said he wasn't tempted by the idea.
She had ordered the attack on Camp Jaha. She had killed so many of his people. He had lost count of all the friends he had lost a long time ago and he was sick of being a victim to her army. He wanted nothing more than to snap her neck with his bare hands but he also knew that he needed Lexa. Clarke was wounded and if he was going to get Clarke out of this dungeon alive he would need Lexa's help. Once they got out of this cell and he knew Clarke was safe, he was going to kill the Commander. That much he knew.
Bellamy had begun to measure days by meals and guard shift changes.
The guards had delivered their fourth meal. Marking their second day since their meeting with the Queen. Two days since they've learned about the destruction at Camp Jaha. Bellamy had learned that soaking the stale bread in water made it soft enough for a weakened Clarke to eat so he dropped his bread into his metal cup and allowed it to sit for a second as he stirred Clarke awake.
He could see her eyes flutter open in the darkness and she pulled herself up and out of Bellamy's lap with great effort. She sat up and leaned against the wall for support. He pulled the bread out of the water and handed it to Clarke. She took it with a muttered thank you.
Clarke's condition had deteriorated drastically after they learned about the fall of Camp Jaha. Part of Bellamy feels like she had given up again and he had to try his best to keep from letting his frustration show. He couldn't have Clarke quit on him this time, he had no one else left to fall back on. She couldn't leave him here alone.
Bellamy took a sip of what little of the water was left in the small metal cup. It tasted like dirt, the particles of bread floating did nothing to help the flavor but he knows it's the only water he'll see until much later. He brings Clarke's water over to her and she takes it with a shaky hand.
As she pulls it closer the mug tumbles backwards and lands with a metallic echo that carries all around them. The contents of the mug, it's life saving water, spill out onto the floor.
Clarke lets out a frustrated huff and Bellamy watches helplessly as the cup rattles around the floor until it settles against Clarke's foot. She grabs the cup and launches it across the cell. There isn't much strength in her throw, it lands weakly a few feet away with a thunk against the stone.
"Clarke." Bellamy says cautiously.
"Don't." Clarke says in a word of warning.
Bellamy opens his mouth to speak but then thinks the better of it. He watches as Clarke stares down at the soaked bread in her hands and notices how badly her hands still shake. Out of the corner of his eye he can see the Commander still watching them both from her spot, the whites of her eyes a glaring reveal of her focus. Yet the Commander says and does nothing not even as Clarke brings the bread to her mouth once more with her shaking hands.
It isn't until after Clarke has finished does the Commander approach. Bellamy's eyes are pulled instantly to the movements, he feels his heart hammering through his chest as he watches the Commander take a few more cautious steps. He can see something cradled in the Commander's hand and can only assume it's some sort of weapon, from this angle Bellamy is sure she is holding a rock. Bellamy reaches for his empty cup and holds it firmly in his hand as he raises it in defense.
"Bell?" Clarke asks in confusion.
Lexa stills her movements for just a moment before she continues, albeit much slowly, towards Clarke. She kneels down a ways away from Clarke, and out of Bellamy's striking distance and places a metal cup down onto Clarke's tray. The water in the cup makes a sloshing sound as Lexa returns to her spot against the wall.
Clarke just stares at the cup and Bellamy knows she's deciding if she should reject the water out of pure spite but they both know she can't. They both know how weak her body is and how desperate they are.
"You need it, Clarke." He whispered.
He doesn't try to make sense of the Commander's offering. He doesn't try to think too much about it or who it came from and instead he thinks about the condition of Clarke's shoulder and the weakness of her body and how important it is that she drinks this water right now. Bellamy grabs the cup and brings it to Clarke's mouth before she can protest.
She puts her hand over the metal container as Bellamy lifts it slowly. There isn't much water in the cup to begin with, the Queen's guards hadn't been very generous with their portions today but Bellamy insures that Clarke gets every drop they can find. She drinks it eagerly and swallows it all down in a gulp. Bellamy places the cup down on the ground and looks up to see Lexa watching them. He feels he must be mistaken when he sees the small smile that tugs at the corner of her lips.
He can feel the anger returning to him again. The offer, the help, the small smile like she had just saved the world and everything was good again just made him more furious. He knew that one day, Clarke would forgive The Commander for that betrayal on the Mountain and accept the bullshit excuse of helping her people first and part of him feels like the twisted part of Clarke would some day accept the attack on Camp Jaha too.
None of Clarke's forgiveness would make the people on the Mountain any less dead. It wouldn't make any of his friends less dead. He can't bear to have Lexa's eyes on him and hates it even more to know they are on Clarke as well. Bellamy can remember The Commander's words in the war room as clear as day. She had stood in front of them and particularly confessed her love for Clarke, yet she stood by and watched Clarke get beaten and tortured by the Ice Queen.
Maybe all of that was some twisted version of Grounder love that they didn't quite understand. And Clarke would have no part in this brutal game the Grounders played. He wouldn't allow it. He knows Clarke felt something for the Commander and apart of him feels like, even after everything Lexa has done and all the misery she has put Clarke through, Clarke still feels something for her. And he hates that he can feel that pull Lexa seems to have on her. Even know Clarke's eyes are drawn to the Commander, he can see the way she studies her when she thinks he isn't looking. The Commander can use whatever excuse she can make up to convince Clarke of her innocence but at the end of the day she killed all of those people inside of Mount Weather, it was just Clarke who did her dirty work for her. The Commander sent those forces that attacked the Dropship, she forced Clarke to make the choice burn those warriors alive.
It was the Commander's job to get someone else to get their hands dirty while she sat back and watched all the destruction unfold around her. It was about someone ended her reign of destruction.
"Bell?" Clarke asked again.
He hadn't realized he had been staring at the Commander and even less did he realize that she was staring right back at him. He could see the warning in her glare, as if she had been reading his thoughts the entire time.
"Are you okay?" Clarke said. She placed a hand on his arm and he could feel the heat radiating off her, the fever had spread out to her entire body.
"You're shaking." Clarke added.
He was already pushing up to his feet. He shoved Clarke's hand away without really thinking about it. He strode to the Commander's place on the wall, kicking her food tray and uneaten portion of bread across the cell. The Commander stepped forward to meet him.
They locked eyes in the darkness. The Commander seemed so much less threatening without her black war paint. She was so small without an army of warriors and guards surrounding her. She was just a small girl without her swords. Still, there was the voice in the back of his head telling him that the Grounders followed her for a reason. He had watched Octavia take out men twice his size without batting and eye and knew that their Commander could do much more damage.
All he wanted to do was kill her.
He wrapped his hands around her neck but only managed to have a grip for a couple of a seconds before the Commander dropped him with a swift kick to the inside of his lower leg. He dropped to a one knee, before he could recover the Commander kicked him hard in the chest. All the wind sucked from his chest, Bellamy feel forward onto his hands and as he tried to regain his breath. He could see the Commander raise a fist above him. He braced for her next strike-
"Stop." Clarke attempted to shout from her position on the floor but it came out more of a dry gasp.
The Commander froze her movements as she looked back at Clarke. Bellamy used the distraction to kick at The Commander's knee. She noticed the attack at the last minute and avoided the attack by jumping backwards. He rose to his feet as the Commander regained her footing.
He stepped forward and aimed his right fist for the Commander's nose but it was sloppy, even Bellamy knew that. The Commander stepped aside and Bellamy fell forward with his momentum and the Commander added a strong kick to his lower back. The kick sent Bellamy tumbling forward into the stone wall, he braced himself but his face still slammed against the wall, his nose began to bleed again.
He ignored the pain, he threw a low elbow as he turned, catching The Commander off guard and connecting with her stomach, she let out a grunt as she stumbled backwards again.
"Stop!" Clarke shouted. She was on her feet and stumbling to block the space between them.
Clarke created a buffer and all fighting stopped as the watched Clarke standing on shaky feet between them. Her hands outstretched to create spacing between the two. Bellamy eyed Lexa from the other side of Clarke's wingspan and could see her breathing easy as Bellamy sucked in heavy breaths. He could taste the metallic flavor of his own blood on his lips.
"The Queen wants us to kill each other." Clarke said. She was out of breath as she spoke and he could see Clarke's legs shaking from the strain of simply holding up her own weight. "But we should-." Clarke staggered a bit on her feet. Her head fell forwards as if it had become to heavy for her neck. She still tried to speak even as she began to tumble to the ground. "We should-"
"Clarke!" The Commander called out. She stepped forward to catch Clarke before he head hit the hard stone.
The walls of the Palace shook. It rumbled even into the depths of the dungeon, dust from the ceiling came down onto their head and shoulders. Bellamy exchanged a look with the Commander as they listened to the sounds of the guards scrambling in panic.
There was another sound, it almost sounded like an explosion muffled by the rock and stone. It rocked the dungeon again, sending more dust raining down.
He looked over at The Commander and saw her pleased smile on her face but it quickly faded when she looked back down at the blonde she was holding upright in her arms.