Bellamy
It all happened so fast, once it was over- with Lincoln dead, Octavia dead, Moira seemed to feel she had no choice but to let them go. She was hysterical with apology, but Bellamy didn't hear a word she said. He couldn't even look at her without wanting to murder her, and so he just lifted Octavia's body into his arms and carried her out of that place. Nobody stopped him; Moira even led the way to the exit, sending guards to carry Lincoln out with them. Maybe she felt it was the least she could do, after everything that had happened.
Outside, the sun was bright, and the air was clean and sweet. They were surrounded by grasslands, interrupted here and there with mountains and fragmented patches of forest, and he could hear birds singing, wind rippling through the meadows. It seemed insulting, like it should be raining and gloomy, gray and dismal. How could the world be such a beautiful place when Octavia wasn't in it anymore?
Moira had returned their horses to them, and had also given them a cart, which her guards had fastened to one of the horses before leaving them alone. Lincoln's body was in the cart, but Bellamy refused to place Octavia beside him.
"We must keep moving," Lia said, her voice severe. "We must get out of sight of the mountain. Put her in the cart and get on your horse."
"No," Bellamy whispered, even though Octavia was heavy and his arms ached, even though every glimpse of her expressionless face broke his heart.
Lia walked over to him and her eyes seemed to spit fire as she looked up at him, biting out, "Do. As. I. Say."
Echo hurried over to Bellamy and gently she pried his hands from Octavia, taking her weight from his grip. His arms ratcheted upward as she took his sister away from him, and he gulped against the tears that rose in his throat, threatening to choke him. He didn't know how he was still alive.
"Get on your horse," Lia said again, going to her own.
Bellamy didn't move, but once Octavia was laid gently in the cart, Echo returned to his side and she took his forearm, gently maneuvering him to their horse. He slid onto its back mechanically, and barely recognised Echo's body pressed against his as she climbed up behind him.
"We must get out of sight of the mountain," Lia said again, addressing Echo now.
The horses started moving across the meadow, towards the treeline, and it only took about fifteen minutes to reach the forest.
"We have to get Clarke," Bellamy said, suddenly unable to think of anything but that. He needed Clarke, now more than ever, needed her by his side, needed to see that she was safe and alive. He couldn't lose her too... not when she was all he had left.
As the horses continued to move across the grasslands, Bellamy didn't know or care where they were going, as long as it would lead them to Clarke. His eyes were unfocused, staring at nothing, and his mind soon became strangely blank, as though he had no thoughts at all. The trees around them were soft and green and smelled sweetly of cedar, and a layer of pine needles and soft earth muffled the horse's hooves beneath them, but he barely noticed any of it.
He only felt a small amount of surprise as, up ahead, Lia slowed her horse to a stop and hopped off. He and Echo both watched as she came back toward them, but only when she made a beeline for the horse with the cart did Bellamy move. His thoughts weren't quick enough to tell him exactly what he was worried she might do, but he just knew he didn't want her anywhere near his sister's body. Echo tried to stop him from dismounting by tightening her arms around his stomach, but she only succeeded in being pulled off the horse with him as he jumped down.
Lia was kneeling at the back of the cart, and she had unlaced one of Octavia's boots and was tugging it off her foot.
"What the hell are you doing?" Bellamy yelled, and he barely recognised his own voice. "Don't touch her!" Lia ignored him, tossing the boot aside, and Bellamy felt Echo's hands grabbing his forearms from behind, urgently trying to hold him back.
"Please," she whispered into his ear. "Please." He didn't know if she was so insistent because she cared about him, because she didn't want to be left alone with Lia, or both, but he didn't care- he couldn't care about anything anymore.
In one fluid motion Lia yanked off Octavia's sock, and Bellamy felt Echo's hands still suddenly on his arms. He wasn't immediately sure what he was seeing. His eyes narrowed as he took a slow step forward, and this time Echo didn't stop him. He couldn't keep his eyes off the fleck of blue between two of Octavia's toes. It looked like a feather, but he couldn't understand how a feather had gotten there when she'd been inside the mountain, or why it seemed to make Echo's breath catch.
It was only when Lia plucked the tuft of blue out from between Octavia's toes that he realised it wasn't a feather at all, but a tiny dart with a feathered tip.
"What the hell is that?" he demanded, jabbing a finger in her direction.
Lia looked at him, and she was no longer angry. "It is a promise," she said, reaching for his hand and unfolding it, placing the dart in his open palm. He looked down at it, saw that it was coated in Octavia's blood, still wet. "A promise from you to me," she continued. "That you will be loyal from now on. That you will listen, when I speak."
Before he could ask what any of that meant, Octavia's body jerked bolt upright. She gasped loudly, eyes huge and wide. It gave Echo such a fright that she let out an audible cry, stumbling backward, but Bellamy only sank to his knees. He felt like laughing, like crying, like screaming and vomiting all at once.
Octavia fell forward off the cart and onto all fours, clutching at her throat, her gaze still wide, as though the rope had only just been tight around her neck. She met Bellamy's eyes and tried to whisper his name, but her voice was cracked and raw. He knew that feeling, knew what it was like to be hanged and strangled until you couldn't speak, but none of that mattered. She was alive- he didn't know or care how- she just was.
Bellamy cupped her face in his shaking hands and he just looked at her, blinking back tears so he could really see her face and take in every bit of it- the life in her eyes, her lips slightly parted as she drew in big breaths, the colour flooding back into her cheeks.
"Octavia," he whispered, just needing to say her name and watch her hear him say it, needing to know that she was really alive, really here with him again.
"Bell?" she managed, her voice strained and sore. He seized her tightly, hardly breathing, hardly believing this was even possible. She leaned forward against his chest, her fingers threading into his hair. He was afraid someone might speak and tell him he was crazy, but he was happy to be crazy if it meant she would live.
"Are you alright?" he asked her. Again, her hand went to her throat, and he nodded his head. "I know," he assured her. "Believe me, I know. It'll pass." He stood up and tugged her to her feet by her hand, pulling her close again for another hug. Echo was still staring at them like she couldn't believe what she was seeing, like this was a miracle- and it was.
"How are we outside?" Octavia asked, as she seemed to belatedly understand their surroundings. Her voice sounded strained and painful.
"We will need more horses," Lia spoke up before anyone could respond, speaking for the first time since she'd raised Octavia from the dead. "Camp here for the night."
Bellamy let go of Octavia and he grabbed Lia, pulling her into his chest and holding her tightly. An instant later he felt the coolness of her blade on his neck and he let her go, seeing that the anger had sprung back into her eyes. "Thank you," he said, hardly caring about the knife, not caring about anything anymore, his happiness that Octavia was alive overwhelming any other feeling he could possibly have.
"I want your loyalty," Lia said, and it sounded like a warning. "Not your gratitude."
Bellamy knew she had them both, but he just nodded his agreement. Lia spun on her heel and unlaced the cart from the horse, taking rope to tie the three horses together before she mounted hers and charged them into the forest.
"She will be back," Echo said. Bellamy was already holding Octavia to his chest again, hugging her tightly. "What happened?" Echo asked her.
"It doesn't matter," Bellamy said quickly, before Octavia could even attempt to answer. He couldn't bear to hear the details of how she'd killed herself, how badly he'd failed her, or even how Lia had gotten involved- at least, not now. He tossed Echo a pleading look and said, "Can you just give us a minute? Please?"
To his relief, Echo obeyed him, going to their packs to pull out furs and make camp for the night. He just stayed with Octavia, taking her by the hands and sitting her down with him on a log. "Breathe," he urged her, hearing the strain in her voice with each inhale. He put a hand on the back of her neck and just rested it there, making sure she knew she wasn't alone. "Shshsh," he whispered as he saw her tears welling up in her eyes. "You're okay. It's okay." He stared at her, never wanting to let her out of his sight again. "I promise, it's going to be okay."
"Lincoln," she whispered, her voice small, the tears spilling over.
"Lincoln would want you to live," he said firmly. "You know that." He knew what a hypocrite he was; as soon as he'd seen her dead, he'd wanted to end himself just so he wouldn't have to feel that loss. So he couldn't say he didn't understand.
It was the look of total confusion in her eyes that caught him off-guard. He watched her carefully, trying to understand how his strong little sister, so resilient and brave, could have given up on life. How could she have done something so terrible to herself?
Suddenly he realised that she hadn't.
"O," he said urgently, taking her face in his hands. "What happened? Did you-" he broke off, drew in a huge breath and forced the words from his lips, "Did you hang yourself?"
She pulled back from him, and she looked totally offended by that question. "What? Of course not. What are you talking about?" Her voice was raspy, but indignant.
Bellamy let out a strangled laugh and he closed his eyes, feeling suddenly weak with relief. A wave of guilt washed over him for believing Octavia could be capable of something like that, when he knew her better than anyone. He felt her hand reach out and touch his hair and he looked up at her, saw the concern, the disbelief, on her face. "Bell… you really thought I killed myself?"
"I walked into the room and you were hanging from the ceiling," he whispered, and as soon as he saw her stricken expression he knew that none of this had been her doing. "Lia," he said, shaking his head. "She did it."
Octavia's fingers curled around the bruises on her neck. "But why?"
"To get you out of the mountain," Echo spoke up from nearby.
Bellamy glanced at her and nodded, then turned his attention back to his sister, watching her face. He remembered when he'd left her alone to change her clothes; he'd walked with Echo down that corridor and they'd gone around a corner, out of sight of her door. They hadn't been gone long, but he'd seen how fast Lia could move and he knew she would have had time to slip back into Octavia's room. She must have used whatever that dart was to put her into a state that looked enough like death to fool everyone, and to get them- all of them- out of the mountain. Maybe Lia realised that he would have just continued to fight, refusing to leave his sister behind, and that killing Lincoln hadn't made anything better.
"Why the hell would she do that after she murdered Lincoln?" Octavia asked, seeming to read his mind. Her voice was strained, cold and furious.
"I don't know," he answered, but he did- Lia had already told him. She'd done it to gain his trust, to put him in her debt, and it had worked. Even knowing all that she'd done, he still felt gratitude. "We'll figure it out, okay? Tomorrow we're going after Clarke. We're going to go get her and then we're going to go home."
Suddenly anything seemed possible- if Octavia could die and come back to life, then recovering Clarke should be easy.
Octavia seemed much less enthusiastic about it, but she was still enough in shock that she allowed him to lead her over to the bed Echo had made for her. He intended to tuck her in as though she was still a child, but she derailed that plan when she stopped short and said, "What about Lincoln?"
His eyes flickered to the cart, to the body wrapped and tied in white linens. "We'll bury him," he promised her. "Tomorrow before we leave. Okay?"
"But he won't be with his people," she protested. "He'll be far away… he'll be alone." Her voice broke and the tears started again.
Bellamy grabbed her shoulder and squeezed. "I know," he said softly. "But Lincoln was an explorer, right? He was never tied to one place. This is a good spot and he'll be safe here. He won't be alone because we'll come back and visit him."
She shook her head. "Trikru don't bury their dead. They burn them. His keryon has to be released into the wind."
Bellamy thought about that for a moment and then nodded. "Then we'll burn him," he said. She could have asked him for anything in that moment and he would have bent over backwards to give it to her. "And we can carry his ashes with us as long as you want."
"Come with me, Octavia," Echo said gently. "We'll gather wood to build a pyre."
She seemed satisfied with that, and Bellamy watched as she went to Echo and then followed her into the trees. He didn't want to let Octavia out of his sight, but he trusted Echo and knew they wouldn't go far.
Bellamy pulled together some rocks and woods and built a campfire, partly to keep them warm and partly to provide an easy source of ignition once the pyre was ready. He knew Lincoln would have to burn until morning. He wondered if Octavia would sleep, whether she would spend the night watching Lincoln being consumed by the flames. But he could deal with her grief, with her tears. All those weeks ago, when he'd let her go with Lincoln into the night, with an arrow buried in her hip and war waging all around them, he had told the truth when he'd said, I need you to live. He couldn't exist in the world without her, couldn't shoulder the burden of guilt that came hand in hand with her death. But as long as she stayed alive, he knew he could deal with anything else life through at him.
It took a couple of hours for the pyre to be built, and it was hard work putting it all together and hoisting Lincoln to the top of it, but the busy work was clearly helpful for Octavia. She worked hard, and she was the one to make a torch, hold it to the campfire he'd built, and then light the wood under Lincoln's body.
Despite the strain that was still there from being hanged, her voice was strong as she declared, "Yu gonplei ste odon."
Bellamy swallowed and added softly, "May we meet again." He watched Octavia's face as the pyre erupted into flames, and saw the determined glint in her eyes, the firm way she held her chin up. He felt comforted, confident now that his sister was not a person who would take her own life. She would get through this.
.
Later, when Octavia was asleep, curled into Bellamy with her head on his chest, and Echo was lying nearby, Bellamy felt the older woman's brown eyes watching him. Lincoln's body still smoldered in the background, but Bellamy wasn't worried about the smoke or even their proximity to Raven Rock. He knew no one would be coming after them. He turned his head to meet Echo's gaze, giving her a smile, but she didn't return it.
"Your gratitude is misplaced," she warned him. "Lia did not save your sister out of compassion or humanity. There are strings attached to all that she does."
"But she did save her," he said, keeping his voice quiet so as not to wake Octavia. Yes, Lia had arranged for him to walk into the most horrible sight of his entire life, but it had gotten Octavia out of that mountain, away from those people who wanted to turn her into a science experiment. He knew it was complicated, that Lia had done it to gain power over him, but he couldn't shake that gratitude. Less than two hours ago he'd been thinking that he'd have to leave his sister behind in a place where they wanted to hurt her, and now she was outside and safe under a star-filled sky.
It was hard to erase the horrific memory of her hanging lifeless from the ceiling, but he comforted himself with the knowledge that she hadn't done it to herself. He watched the rise and fall of Octavia's chest as she slept, hoping that she wasn't being plagued by nightmares, knowing that he would definitely be facing bad dreams of his own just as soon as he closed his eyes. What he wouldn't give for some of Monty's sleeping tonic right now.
"I'm not an idiot," he assured Echo, feeling her eyes still on him. "I know Lia did it just so I would have to fall in, but I'm still thankful."
A long silence passed between them, and in it he could hear her disapproval as clear as if she was voicing it aloud. "Octavia should go back to Trikru lands,"she said finally. "She should take Lincoln's ashes home."
"No, I'm not letting her out of my sight," Bellamy answered, shaking his head. "Especially not after what just happened."
"Especially after what just happened," Echo said firmly. "She is ammunition against you. She is an easy method of controlling your heart."
He knew she was right, that everything she was saying was true, but he just didn't care. "I'm not leaving her," he insisted.
Echo was clearly dissatisfied with that, but she only gritted her teeth. Pulling the furs up to her chin, she let out a long breath and rolled over so her back was to him. He considered the conversation over, and for a long time it seemed like she agreed, but then he heard her voice cut through the darkness. She sounded exasperated, even worried, as she said, "I believe she will be the death of you."