This isn't a new chapter, I just decided to split the previous one in half. 8000 words is kind of a lot for one chapter…
IF I COULD TAKE THE FIRE OUT FROM THE WIRE,
I'D TAKE YOU WHERE NOBODY KNOWS YOU
AND NOBODY GIVES A DAMN
Aerrow was relieved immeasurably when Lexa finally returned late in the afternoon.
The Commander surveyed the scene in front of her curiously. Aerrow was sat on one side of the room, his back pressed firmly against the wall, while the nightbloods were on the other. Though the sight was somewhat amusing – the warrior who had been a constant pain in her ass cowing away from a group of kids – she sighed in disappointment. Evidently they needed more of a push.
Aerrow was on his feet the moment she entered, hoping to god this whole ordeal would finally come to an end, and he could inform her about the massacre and finally speak to Clarke. His hopes were dashed though, when she ordered them to follow her for an evening of the one thing he had been hoping wouldn't happen more than any other:
Combat training.
He was still instantly, muscles totally unresponsive. He tried to move, to speak, but nothing came out. It was like his whole body was on lockdown. Octavia may have given him the motivation to take up arms against his enemies, but this was totally different. He didn't want to fight anyone without cause, least of all these kids that, in that short time he had spent with them, his heart was unwittingly warming towards.
"Lexa…" he eventually managed to get out.
"Heda!" She glared at him
"Lexa!"
Her anger was brought up short by the defiant hiss of desperation in his voice, and she took a moment just to stare at him in contemplation, taking in the pure pleading in his eyes. "Please…" he finished quietly.
Lexa sighed, but did not break eye contact. "What did you say to me yesterday? 'you have to be willing to do what's necessary'." She told him softly, deliberately using his own words against him.
She watched him visibly deflate, and he looked down in resignation. "I understand this is not something you wish to do, but this is not about our wants and desires. This about duty." She finished firmly, but evenly.
Aerrow kept his head bowed and his eyes squeezed shut as her words sunk in. Once more, he was warring with himself, but he couldn't even understand why anymore. Why was he so reluctant? It was only training, there was no way any of them were going to die…
Yet…
He kept circling back to that word. Because that's what they were training for: to kill each other, and then spend the rest of their lives killing in servitude of their people. That was something he wasn't sure his mentality would be able to endure.
"If you come with me now, you will be reunited with an old friend, one who is most eager to meet you." Lexa broke his thoughts.
He whipped his head up at her words. What did she mean by that? His first thought was that she was referring to Clarke, but something in her choice of words made him discount that theory.
Gathering his courage, and with his curiosity overriding his reticence, he raised his head to look at Lexa and squared his shoulders. "Okay."
Against his better judgement, he allowed himself to be led along with the others down and out of the enormous tower, out to an area behind it that was specifically closed off from the eyes of the public to allow the nightbloods to train.
Aerrow shielded his eyes from the harsh afternoon sun as Lexa pushed the doors open, wondering the entire time who this 'old friend' was. No sooner had he stepped out of the building did he hear one of the guards let out a cry of surprise as a blur of black and white leapt over the man's shoulder and raced across the ground towards him, revealing-
"Cleo!" Aerrow gasped in astonishment at the sight of the big Lace Monitor crawling towards him
He crouched down and welcomed his faithful friend into his arms, hugging her close to his chest. The lizard hissed affectionately, and flicked his cheek with her forked tongue, like a dog. "I missed you, pretty girl." He whispered, uncaring of how ridiculous he must have looked.
"My scouts found her on the outskirts, she must have followed your scent all the way here." Lexa spoke up after a moment, "That is a very faithful companion you have there."
Aerrow couldn't have stopped the grin breaking out across his face if he tried. "She sure is…" he said, staring at the lizard fondly. "Thank you." He turned to face Lexa, only to freeze at the sight before him.
The nightbloods all stood motionless, dumbstruck awe on their faces. "You have a Varani?" Kaida exclaimed in disbelief – the first time he had seen her icy mask break.
For a moment, he was stunned by the envy in their eyes, but then he remembered how Monitor Lizards – Varani – were revered in the grounders' culture. Because none were endemic to the Americas, such Lizards were extremely rare – their populations isolated and sustained only those animals that had managed to escape from zoos. For one to 'bond' with a human – so to speak – was virtually unheard of, but Aerrow couldn't imagine a life without his closest friend by his side. He looked around at the nightbloods, all of them sharing a now familiar wide eyed look at another revelation of his 'uniqueness'. Strangely, Gabbi was nowhere to be seen.
"Uh… yeah…" he responded reservedly
"May we touch it?" Elrik asked eagerly, reaching for the lizards velvety scales, only for Cleo to immediately hiss violently and lash out with her tail, lightly whipping the boy's hand. He pulled it back instantly, yelping with pain, while Cleo curled herself tightly around Aerrow's neck.
"I think that answers your question." Aerrow said dryly, before noticing the disheartened look on his face, "She doesn't trust easily. Maybe, in time, you will get your chance, but for now you should keep your distance."
Elrik nodded in understanding, when suddenly Cleo's head shot into the air, tongue flicking incessantly, tasting…
Before Aerrow had even registered the movement, she had dropped down off him and scurried straight past the nightbloods, heading directly towards-
Gabbi stood off to the side innocently. She didn't so much as flinch when the Lace Monitor dug its claws into her clothes, perching itself on the girl's shoulder, staring at her expectantly.
Aerrow was stunned. He had never seen Cleo act that way towards a complete stranger. This was a complete anomaly, another thing that set Gabbi apart from the others. "How did you…" he breathed.
Gabbi giggled – a carefree, impish laugh – before reaching into her pockets and pulling out a chuck of raw meat. Cleo's favourite. The moment Gabbi opened her fingers, the Lace Monitor pounced, scarfing down the offered food in seconds, before looking up at Gabbi, obviously expecting more.
"All animals have their weaknesses, and endearments." Gabbi said quietly, "Identifying them is a skill that lies in the eye of the beholder." She stroked Cleo on the loose skin around her throat, and the Lace Monitor practically purred.
Aerrow smirked at the sight. He didn't think he had ever seen anything more adorable. "Congratulations, you've won yourself a friend for life." He told her, and Gabbi preened.
"She comes from the Delfikru." Lexa said quietly beside him, as the nightbloods gathered around their diminutive companion, "Not much is known about them, they are a highly secretive people. Indeed, they have not produced a nightblood since the second commander, Ryon – the one who gave the prophecy of Naja."
Aerrow raised an eyebrow at that.
"It is whispered that people of his bloodline possess a certain 'sight': the ability to glimpse the future – hence the name Delfikru"
Aerrow furrowed his eyebrows and this new information, deep in thought. It seemed a bit farfetched for someone to be able to see into the future, but then again Gabbi had already known him as Naja, and another member of her clan had told of the prophecy itself. A memory suddenly jinked in his head, a story he had read on the Ark about ancient times, and an Oracle. An Oracle of Delphi. Staring at the little girl, his eyes widened. He hadn't noticed it before, but the translation of her clan suddenly clicked in his head. Delfikru literally meant 'seeing people'.
"Alright, now that you've all had your fun, it's time to get to work." Lexa addressed them all. Aerrow watched as they suddenly snapped to attention, Cleo crawling off Gabbi and re-taking her place on his shoulder as the Commander continued. "You know the drill, pair up – with a different partner than last time – you may use whichever weapons you want but remember your restraint, we don't want a repeat of last time, do we Rubika?" She looked knowingly at the red haired girl. For her part, Rubika just shrugged and sent a smirk towards Elias, who subconsciously rubbed his side.
"Aerrow, you will be sparring with Aden." Lexa told him, and he turned to face the young boy standing unassumingly beside him. At some point he had gathered two simple bamboo staffs from the side of the arena, and tossed one to Aerrow, who caught it easily. His reunion with Cleo and her reassuring weight on his shoulder had forced away his earlier insecurities, and he twirled the staff effortlessly in his hands, testing its weighting.
He and Aden sized each other up briefly, and then they engaged.
Their duel was slow and careful at first, both of them getting an idea of their opponents' strengths and weaknesses. One thing was clear immediately: Aden was not to be underestimated.
The boy was a formidable fighter. While he and Lexa were both naturally aggressive, and Roan had been rock solid in defence, Aden was perfectly in the middle – balanced and reserved, quietly waiting and blocking calmly, then striking with the speed of a viper when the time was right. Once he got used to the boy's fighting style, Aerrow had little trouble fending him off – skill, strength and endurance were all on his side - but it was clear that once he grew older and developed more, Aden would be a force to be reckoned with.
In fact, all the nightbloods were supremely skilful for their age.
In between jousts with Aden, he took time to observe his fellow novitiates. As with most other things, they all had their own unique styles, signature attacks and favoured weapons. Rubika brandished a spear, and was reluctant to attack, but solid in defence. She seemed to be the least skilful, but made up for it with brutally effective tactics. Kaida wielded two daggers with all the speed and fluidity of the fish her people hunted, while Nikolas hefted a large broadsword. His movements were slower, but much more powerful. Elias and Elrik sparred with identical swords not dissimilar to Lexa's old one – simple, but a very well rounded.
Gabbi meanwhile used no blades. No, her choice of weapon was a bow, and she was properly, ruthlessly accurate with it. While Aerrow and the others sparred, he watched her fire off arrow after arrow, under the guidance of Lexa. Her every shot hit the centre of the target. In fact, not since the man who taught him how to shoot himself – a man who he would later discover to be the leader of the Qinta, and would become his mentor – had he seen someone so skilled.
There was something else about her bow though: It was bone white, and beautifully crafted with a series of symbols carved into its ornate arms. It was just like his own one had been…
He was jolted from his thoughts – literally – when Aden clipped his cheek with his staff. Aerrow recoiled – not for the first time. Aden had now landed several such hits on him, and Cleo had long ago abandoned her post on his shoulder and now lay safely at the side of the arena.
Aden kept going, and Aerrow parried, but then the boy ducked and errant swing and launched a devastating counter attack, breaking through Aerrow's defences and halting the end of his staff centimetres before his nose.
Breathing heavily, he looked the older Aerrow dead in the eye. "Why do you restrain yourself?"
His question was not accusatory. No, it was genuinely curious, as if the boy didn't understand how he could be defeating so easily the one who had bested his Commander.
Aerrow looked at him long and hard, and Aden saw the sadness return to his eyes as his shoulders slumped.
Aerrow sighed, and let the staff drop from his hands, before walking over towards Cleo and sitting down next to her. A short time later, Aden joined him.
"Tell me, Aden, when a Commander falls, how is their successor chosen?"
His question was quiet, but it took Aden by surprise, and he looked down at his feet at the reminder of what would one day happen. He looked back up, and stared plaintively out at the rest of the nightbloods. He swallowed. "We fight each other in the Conclave, to the death." He explained shallowly, "At the end, the last one left standing is the winner – having been chosen by the spirit of the Commanders – and they are appointed to rule."
Aerrow kept his eye on the boy as he looked back down sadly. Clearly this was not something the boy was looking forward to. For all his seriousness, and his fighting ability, he was still a child at heart – innocent and carefree – and the prospect of having to kill his family was clearly something he had been wrestling with for a long time.
"I guessed as much…" Aerrow said gently.
"It is our way." Aden steeled himself, "We may not like it now, but it is our duty, to ourselves, our Heda, and our people."
"See, that is the problem." Aerrow told him, causing Aden to look him in the eye, "It is your duty to lead, not mine!"
He shook his head sadly, absently stroking Cleo's back, "I never wanted to be a part of this, never wanted to lead."
"But here you are-"
"I know!" Aerrow cut him off, squeezing his eyes shut, "I know… but it doesn't mean I like it."
Aden said nothing, he just stared blankly, confused. Aerrow sighed. "Everyone wants what I have." He explained bitterly, "Because everyone wants to be better than everyone else. Humanity is bitter and zealous in their pursuit of power. Everyone wants to special, to be important in some way, to feel like they matter."
He took a shaky breath, "I just want to be normal!" he said exasperatedly, "Is that too much to ask?.." he trailed off.
Aden was silent. Truthfully, he had no idea what to say. At its core, Aerrow's explanation for why he held his skills back made sense, but he still couldn't grasp in any way the motivations behind that mentality. He opened his mouth to speak when he was interrupted by the arrival of Lexa.
"Aerrow, come with me, I would like to discuss something with you." Her tone gave no room for objection.
Aerrow gave a final glance towards Aden, before picking himself up and following Lexa over to the other side of the arena, out of earshot of the others.
"What do you want Commander?" he asked awkwardly, still unused to having to address her by her official title.
The Commander levelled her eyes at him. "I wish to understand you, Aerrow. You… confuse me."
"What do you mean?" he was on guard instantly. Aden may have been perceptive, but he had nothing on her.
"When I first met you, you were so full of fire, ready to take on the world without any fear at all, like you thought yourself some kind of immortal." She answered him whimsically, voice quiet yet firm, "Yet now you would rather lay down your arms and allow yourself to be cut down like a coward. What changed?"
Aerrow flinched at her words, and he glared at her. "I thought Clarke would have told you…"
"I want to hear it from you."
Again, the tone of Lexa's voice brought him up short, and any argument he had died on his lips. Just like with Aden, he visibly slumped.
It was a long time before he spoke. Lexa said nothing more, she just waited respectfully for him to answer – an action he was surprisingly thankful for.
"I made mistakes…" he spoke eventually, voice distant, "Followed my heart… Allowed myself to feel things I thought I'd forgotten about."
He took a deep breath, "In space I lost everything. All I had left was a lust for revenge. Hate is a powerful motivator like that, so I trained. I taught myself to kill and never looked back until-"
He cut himself off as his emotions threatened to spill over. He closed his eyes and forced the building tears away. "Until I met Sienna, and that's where I screwed up. I fell too hard, loved too much. And those mistakes got her killed."
"From what Clarke told me, she would have been killed anyway…" Lexa supplied, sounding genuinely caring.
Aerrow sniffed, and chuckled ruefully. "She may very well have been… But at least it wouldn't have been my fault…"
"And because of that… I poisoned everything around me. My friends, my people, Clarke. God… Clarke- I never even meant- she deserved so, so much better…" he forced himself to stop talking before he broke down completely. He had already shared more than what he was comfortable with her knowing.
Lexa was silent for a long time, deliberating what to say. She opened her mouth, then appeared to catch herself, hesitating, before eventually speaking. "Have you been instructed on the pillars of the Commander yet?" she asked.
Aerrow nodded mutely.
"Strength and Wisdom are obvious, but it is the third that defines us as individuals. Compassion. That alone governs what kind of leaders we become."
"But I don't want to be a leader-"
"I wasn't finished!" she interrupted sternly, before softening.
"As Commanders, we are taught that love is weakness, that to be Commander is to be alone, yet we must represent something of which love is the very embodiment of. Creates an interesting conundrum, does it not?" she asked rhetorically.
Aerrow frowned, not knowing where she was going with this.
It was her turn to take a deep breath. "I loved someone once too, you know." Her voice was so quiet he barely registered it. "She was abducted in the night by the Qinta, delivered to the Ice Nation. Nia cut off her head and sent it to me as provocation."
Aerrow's eyes widened. He never could have guessed… his mind raced. He had never been told of such an action in his time with the legendary warriors. He had observed them to be soldiers of survival, not war. They didn't choose sides, so for them to have acted against the Commander, for someone else no less, was practically unfathomable
"I'm sorry… I didn't know" he stammered, "The Qinta… they wouldn't…. they couldn't have…"
"I don't need your condolences." She held her hand up harshly, clearly wanting to change the topic. He got the feeling that she had not shared this information with very many people at all. "The point that I'm trying to make is that very few of us are immune to the callings of the heart. We are destined to want companionship, to not be alone. To feel loved…"
Her words cut him deeply, and he stared off into the distance, his thoughts filled not with a blonde haired, blue eyed warrior, but rather one with black hair, and emerald eyes. The thought startled him, and disturbed him more than he cared to admit.
"And more often than not, we all find that love we seek, only to lose it later on, sometimes… unfortunately… in the most brutally tragic of ways. It is not fair, it is not right, but it is what happens. What matters is what we make of ourselves afterwards."
Aerrow was silent. He had never expected her to be so philosophical, and each of her words rang true in his head. He never thought teachers would come wielding swords and trying to kill him…
"When I look at you, I see someone who has given up, who has lost their way"
Aerrow looked away guiltily, but Lexa wasn't finished.
"But you are not irredeemable." She continued, making him look at her once more. "I allowed you to train as a Natblida not because of your blood, but because of your potential. You can become a truly great leader, Aerrow. There is a very real chance that, once I am gone, you will succeed me, but only if you choose to do so."
She placed her hand on his shoulder, "I have been where you are. I have grieved, I have mourned, but unlike you, I have gotten back up. It is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all."
She brushed the edges of his shirt away, revealing the scars on his chest "All wounds heal eventually." She said quietly, "Some leave deeper scars than others, but they heal all the same. I brought you here because you have a choice: do you allow yourself to collapse like this? Or do you rise?"
Aerrow was still silent, and as she turned to leave, she left him with a final piece of wisdom. "There is no life in sorrow, Aerrow. If you learn nothing else from me, please understand this."
"Lexa wait!" he called out, stopping her in her tracks. She turned back to face him, eyes narrowed.
He took a deep breath, there was no avoiding this any longer…
"There's something I have to tell you…"
Wasn't this story meant to be dark?
I don't think I've ever written anything along the lines of fluff until this, but damn the nightbloods won me over as they took on characters of their own in my mind, and I just kept throwing bits and pieces in. I'm even warming to Lexa the more I write her (even if she may be a little too caring in this chapter) and I wish they'd done more on the show to elaborate her as an individual rather than just her relationship with Clarke, which is why I took a few liberties in this story.
Besides the nightblood family, and Cleo being too precious for my world, there were some very important themes in these last two chapters that become more obvious as the story continues (which I full intend on doing now that this bogey chapter is out of the way. I have everything planned, I just need the time, motivation and creativity to write it down).
That's all for now, stay tuned for what happens next. Now that Aerrow is in Polis there's no way my nightbloods will meet a gruesome end… right?
