STAND DOWN, DROP THESE WEAPONS NOW
WE'RE WALKING IN THIS LIE, WALKING IN THIS LIE
YOU KNOW I TRY, TRY TO COMPROMISE
WE'RE WALKING IN THIS HIGH, WALKING IN THIS HIGH
Trees whipped by on either side, a mere blur while the pounding of hooves was anything but rhythmic as Clarke spurred her horse faster.
Grunting in exertion, the beast's nostrils flared and its flanks heaved for air. Clarke chanced a look behind her. She didn't need to see her pursuers to know they were getting closer. She could tell from the sound of the war drums echoing through the forest.
Ontari's forces were after her. Worse, they were catching her.
She'd hoped to have put enough distance between her and the Azgeda army in the two days since the massacre of the nightbloods, enough to get to Arkadia, rally her friends and escape to find Luna, but she had underestimated her opponent.
The Ice Nation was suspiciously quick to mobilise its forces, almost as if they had been waiting for this opportunity to seize power, but the real problem was her form of transport. She could have outran the advancing army easily in the rover, but her horse was a completely different story. Try as she might, she simply hadn't been around the animals for anywhere near as much time as the grounders, and her stolen mare was no match for the lean, wiry stallions of the Azgeda scouts.
It was only a matter of time before they found her. And if they found her, it was all over.
She had another horrible choice to make. She knew the army was not just after her. The war drums announced an immediate attack, and there could only be one target. So did she push on and try to make it to her people in time to warn them, and risk losing everything? Or hide, wait for the army to pass, and hope there was still something left to go back to?
In the end, her choice was taken from her when, for the first time, she heard the faint rumble of the chasing horses. They were almost in sight of her!
With Arkadia still several miles away, she had no other alternative. The Flame took precedence. As long as she kept it from Ontari, there was still a chance.
Frantically, she whipped her head around for a place to hide, but none were in sight-
There!
Out of the corner of her eye she spotted it. A dark hole in the cliff on the opposite side of the river that ran alongside the track.
Wasting no time, she hauled on the reigns, turning her horse off the track and into the water. Luckily it was shallow enough and, praying that she was quiet enough for the scouts not to hear the splashing water, she crossed to the other side and practically dived into the shallow cove, pulling her horse in after her.
And not a moment too soon. The horse's tail had barely vanished behind an overhanging shield of vines when the first scout rounded the bend, bow in hand with an arrow already nocked and ready to fire.
Clarke dared not move a muscle as a second scout followed soon after. Both warriors were adorned in traditional white warpaint and armed for battle.
It was only once both had vanished from sight that she let out the breath she didn't know she had been holding. Next to her, her horse whinnied nervously, and she stroked its neck to calm the animal.
She knew the scouts were only the start. What was coming was far, far worse.
…
Aerrow fought to keep his eyes open, his feet dragging behind him and his breath coming in torrid gasps as he was marched mercilessly towards yet another massacre
Surrounding him were dozens upon dozens of warriors, while around his arms and torso were heavy, unbreakable chains. There was no chance of escape even if he wanted to.
He simply didn't have the energy to even try. Being starved by Ontari combined with the ever increasing degeneration of his body had taken its toll. His skin was deathly pale, his eyes blank and lifeless and his muscles quivered with every laboured movement. It was all he could do just to stay on his feet.
He shivered in the frigid air. His captor hadn't even allowed him the dignity of proper clothing, just a simple, ragged pair of pants. He let out a strained gasp when Ontari suddenly yanked on his chains, lurching him forward as she pulled him along behind her horse. When they inevitably arrived at their destination, she seemed fully intent on parading him for all to see.
He hadn't even thought about whether her sick plan had worked or not, if an Ice Nation heir was already developing within her. He didn't want to think about it. He'd cordoned off the sickening haze that was his rape in the furthest corner of his mind, and now all he knew was pain.
Pain from what had happened to him, pain for who – and what – he had lost, and pain for what was to come. He had accepted that whatever was wrong with him was irreversible. The incurable condition, whatever it was, wherever it had come from was slowly but surely draining his life from him, and it was agony the entire time.
He didn't care though. He didn't care about anything anymore. He just wanted it to end.
Suddenly, the war drums around him changed their tune – from a constant, thumping baritone to a frantic, raging thrumming, while the hundreds of warriors around him let loose a thundering war cry.
That could only mean one thing.
Groaning in exertion, he forced himself to raise his head, only for his blood to run cold when he saw the glittering tower in front of him.
He closed his eyes in defeat.
They had arrived at Arkadia.
…
Completely unaware of what was happening outside, Octavia raced through the corridors of the grounded space station. Knife in hand, she ignored the blaring alarms around her.
She had a limited timeframe and she knew it.
Behind her was Kane, Miller, Sinclair and Bryan, while providing an ever-assuring presence at her side was Lincoln. She had no time however to express how much she had missed him. For now, she had one mission: Escape.
Since returning from Polis – her thoughts still dwelling on what would become of Aerrow – she had been equally horrified and enraged to learn that Pike had tightened his grip on the dictatorship that Arkadia was quickly becoming. In an attempt to put an end to the man's tyrannical rule, Kane, Sinclair and Lincoln had attempted a coup, which had been so close to working only to be thwarted by her bastard of a brother, and now all three were facing execution.
Like hell was she going to let that happen.
She tightened her grip on Lincoln's hand as they rounded a final corner and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Harper's face. They had arrived at their escape. They were safe.
She and Lincoln stood guard while the others hurriedly climbed into an old ventilation shaft in the wall – now repurposed to be an escape tunnel. She was about to join them when the radio at her hip crackled into life.
"I have a message for the traitors of this camp."
Octavia froze as Pike's chilling voice echoed around her.
"There will be an execution today."
Her eyes widened and she shared a worried look with Lincoln. A sense of dread began to fill her. Not now… not when they were so close...
"Either turn yourselves in… Or the other grounder prisoners will die in your place."
Octavia felt like all the air had just been sucked out of her lungs, and she visibly staggered backwards into Lincoln's chest. That vile, cruel, evil motherfucker…
Her mind raced with the implications. No way could their small group hope to fight their way out against the firepower of the guards and their rifles, even if she hadn't left her swords in Polis. Now, more than ever she wished Aerrow had come back with her. He would have known what to do, or at least been able to give her the swords back. Damn you Aerrow… Damn you damn you damn you!
She was pulled from her racing thoughts by a gentle pressure on her shoulder. She turned and saw Lincoln's hand rested atop her collar bone. The moment she faced him he shifted, and brought his fingers up to tenderly stroke her cheek. She leant into the contact, almost desperately. "Let's go." She whispered.
The look of horror in his eyes matched her own, before they flashed with guilt and he looked down sullenly. "No." he murmured, moving past her.
Her arm shot out almost reflexively to grab his shirt and stop him. "Lincoln, please! We're almost out!" she begged.
"I can't let them die because of me." He replied softly, and her heart broke. She didn't like the situation any more than he did, but they had to leave! They had to get to Polis, get reinforcements and take Pike out. They were never going to be able to save everyone, but she couldn't let him become one of the casualties. Not when he was everything to her.
"I know what you're feeling." Kane came up beside her, "But they're searching the station, we need to go!"
Lincoln simply stared at the man for a moment. Then he nodded sombrely. "You should."
"Then I'm staying with you!" Octavia blurted tearfully, grabbing his hands and squeezing as hard as she could. She wasn't going to leave anyone else she cared about behind. If she was going to die, then at least she would be dying alongside the man she loved. "We fight together." She told him, convicted.
Lincoln looked her dead in the eye. "I love you." He whispered.
Octavia stood on her toes and kissed him for all she was worth, pouring every bit of love and emotion she felt into it. She felt him reciprocate, just as he had done the first time she kissed him. Still felt the same rush of endorphins from her head to her toes.
She didn't however, feel him reach into her pocket and grasp a final reaper stick. It was only when she felt a sharp and sudden pain in the side of her neck, along with an overwhelming fatigue did she realise what he had done.
"No…" she breathed desperately, but it was already too late. Darkness claimed her and she collapsed into Lincoln's arms. The last thing she saw was his deep chocolate eyes boring into hers, filled with a mixture of guilt, regret, and pure, true love.
"What are you doing?" Kane demanded in a hushed whisper.
"Her destiny lies on a different path to mine." Lincoln said, not looking up from Octavia's unconscious form. "Just get her out of here."
If Kane wanted to argue, he didn't voice it as he instead took Octavia from Lincoln's arms, leaving only her hand still entwined with his.
"Stay strong." Kane told him, eyes glistening.
"You too." Lincoln replied, looking down at Octavia once more. He started at her one last time, taking in her radiant beauty, her fierce strength, everything he loved about her one last time, committing the girl he loved to memory.
Then he released her hand.
He didn't stay to watch Kane disappear with Octavia into the shaft.
He simply turned his back and walked resolutely away from escape, towards his fate. He didn't have to wait long to face it.
Charles Pike stormed down the corridor, gun in hand. The moment he saw the grounder, he levelled the barrel at him. Lincoln said nothing. He simply held his hands out to the side in surrender, sank to his knees and let the guards cuff him.
Anything for his people…
Anything for Octavia…
Pike meanwhile grinned triumphantly. It may not have been all three, but the execution of Lincoln – the beating heart of the grounder alliance – would fracture any further resistance, and crumble it beyond repair. Then they could have peace.
He raised his radio to his mouth to call off the search, only for another guard to beat him to it.
"Sir… you need to get to the front gate right now! There's another army here… and they look like they mean business."
…
He was met with foreboding grey clouds and light, miserable drizzle as Pike marched steadfastly outside, his head racing with different scenarios and strategies. What the hell could another army be here for? After the Commander declared the last one would not seek revenge for the massacre.
Clearly they had done what grounders do and broke the promise in favour of their insatiable lust for blood. He clicked the safety off of his rifle. If they wanted a fight… he would give them one. Right after executing the traitor in front of them and putting a bullet between the Commander's eyes.
Still, they hadn't attacked yet. Which meant they wanted something.
The metal gates creaked and groaned in protest as they eased open, and when he saw what was in front of him even Pike took a step back.
Hundreds of warriors were waiting outside, all of them armed and all of them chanting a vicious battle cry. He recognised their heavy furs and white warpaint instantly, and his eyes narrowed in hatred. Ice Nation.
"Sir… what should we do?" one of the guards next to him spoke nervously.
Pike grit his teeth in thought. The army had come from the front and didn't appear to have surrounded them. That was good. That meant they weren't planning a siege, which would definitely be to his disadvantage. They far outnumbered him, and if they had surrounded him, Arkadia would be starving in days. The fact that they were all in one place evened the scales. His bullets would do far more damage that way. He was about to give his orders when something caught his eye.
There, stood in chains at the front of the army, next to a scowling woman on horseback who appeared to be leading the army, was one of his own. Aerrow Eroxin.
Pike's eyes bulged at the sight of the teenager. How the hell had he survived a bullet straight to the forehead? After the bloodbath he must have somehow fallen into the bloodthirsty hands of the Ive Nation, and the fact that they had kept him alive and brought him here meant only one thing: they had a bargaining chip.
Unluckily for them, Pike now had one of his own.
He turned to face the guard. "Hold your fire… for now."
He then motioned to the guards holding Lincoln captive. "You two with me, and bring him."
Even Lincoln's eyes widened at the sight of the waiting army, but he did not resist as the guards hauled him to his feet and dragged him along behind Pike as the Chancellor sauntered towards the woman on the horse.
…
Aerrow could only watch with baited breath as Ontari and her army arrived at the front gates, waiting for the inevitable.
Only it didn't happen.
Curiously, Ontari gave no orders. She simply sat casually atop her horse. It was as if she was waiting, though he didn't dare ask what for.
Eventually, his questions were answered when the gates opened and Pike walked out. His eyes widened when he saw Lincoln dragged out after him, chained up in a way not dissimilar to himself. He briefly wondered why, then he remembered what had been happening while he had been in Polis. If it were possible, he began feeling even more nervous as Pike approached.
Ontari seemingly held no such concerns. She simply dismounted her horse and waited for him, entirely unfussed by the rifle in the man's hands.
The two eventually met, and just stood face to face for several seconds glaring at each other, sizing each other up.
"You must be Pike." Ontari broke the silence with the same cocky, maleficent tone she had used before the conclave.
Pike couldn't stop his eyes widening slightly at her use of his name, but he quickly gathered his composure. "I am." He replied, voice flat and unwavering. "and you are?"
Ontari smirked wickedly at him. "I'm the woman who's going to wipe out your pathetic clan."
Aerrow saw Pike's hands tighten reflexively on his rifle, but he didn't rise to the bait. "What happened to Lexa's order?" he asked instead.
"Lexa is dead." Ontari scoffed dismissively. "Food for the bugs." She squared her shoulders and dropped her voice. "I am the Commander now."
Aerrow chose not to voice that her proclamation wasn't true. It wouldn't help the situation, and Pike looked like he already had a plan. He decided instead to bide his time and hope that an opportunity to save Octavia and the others presented itself before full scale war broke out.
"I see." Pike monotoned. "How is it you know who I am?"
Ontari smiled a cruel smile. "Oh I know lots about you." She drawled. "I loved the stories of my men slaughtering yours in the mountains."
That drew a reaction.
Pike's fist clenched briefly, before he narrowed his eyes and stalked towards her. "If you're looking for a fight… you'll get one." He declared.
"I'm not looking for a fight." Ontari matched his tone. "I'm going to slice your hands off, rip out your tongue, and make you watch as I massacre your people one… by one… by one."
"I don't think so." Pike challenged.
Ontari paused and tilted her head. "What makes you think you can stop me."
It was Pikes turn to smirk. "It is my understanding that if any clan leader thinks their Commander unfit to rule…" he spoke loudly, so both sides could hear clearly. Then he looked Ontari dead in the eye. "…they may challenge them to single combat."
Both Aerrow and Lincoln whipped their heads up. Of all the things they expected Pike to say, neither had expected that.
Even Ontari was stunned speechless, and her warriors turned to her questioningly. Aerrow watched on as a look of rage engulfed her features.
"Indeed they may." She spat lowly, "But it is the Commander's choice to accept or not." She drew her sword. "And I do not."
Suddenly, Aerrow saw his chance, and before either of the two could do anything else he seized it.
"Then you lose already."
Both Pike and Ontari whipped their heads around at his raspy, crackly voice. Even crippled as he was, he found the strength to meet their gaze.
"What do you think you're talking about, worm?" Ontari demanded.
Aerrow laughed acridly. "You do that, and your little façade is over. When the other clans find out you refused a challenge, without reciting the lineage, you'll be ousted from Commander before you can even ascend."
Ontari narrowed her eyes at him. "There won't be anyone left alive to tell them."
Aerrow shook his head. "Your people will be. And even if they don't say anything, they'll still know. Do you really think your people will follow someone who they see as a coward?"
He didn't flinch when Ontari's sword whipped towards his neck, stopping just short of the skin. Her hand was trembling in rage but she held herself back. He grinned. He had her right where he wanted her.
"The challenger declares the terms." He told Pike.
The chancellor thought for a moment, before a grin of his own formed. "If I win, you and your army turn around and never come back." He declared. "You win, and you may take me and do with my people as the Commander decreed."
"I AM the Commander." Ontari snarled.
"Not yet." Aerrow growled at her. "There has been no ascension. Your rule is not yet official."
Ontari this time was by now shaking with rage. Her own army was visibly doubting if she was truly the Commander. She had been backed into a corner, and she hated it.
"Do you accept?" Pike demanded.
Ontari flicked her hateful glare to him. "Oh yes…" she said lowly. "Who do you choose to be your champion?"
Pike was visibly surprised by this. Obviously he had not expected that. "I was under the impression that I would be fighting you." He told her.
Ontari's smirk quickly returned. "Impression's are dangerous, Skaikru scum." She said, "I may choose any champion I wish. As may you."
Pike's mind raced to think of a solution to counteract her. He had planned on simply getting her one on one, then putting a bullet in her brain and being done with it. Now all that was ruined. He had to stay on the upper hand. He had to make her make the first move. "Who do you choose?" he asked her.
Ontari was silent for a moment. Then her evil smile grew even wider. "Aerrow kom Qinta gonkru"
Aerrow froze at the mention of his name, then his heart sank as realisation set in. Damn it! He should have seen it coming! Of course Ontari, the shrewd bitch she was wouldn't fight herself. Of course she would instead choose the warrior who was said to be the most dangerous of them all.
Pike knew it too, and he reeled at the prospect of facing Aerrow. He had done so once before, and had come out the very much the loser. He'd somehow survived Bellamy's headshot for god's sake! How could you fight someone like that? Pike had no idea. All he knew was that someone was going to have to do it. And if his people were to survive, that someone was going to have to be good.
Suddenly, an idea popped into his head, and he grinned.
"Your champion is?" Ontari pressed.
Already dreading the coming battle, what Pike said next made Aerrow's blood turn to ice. With one, single word, every cell in his body turned to stone.
"Lincoln."
…
The darkness enveloping her faded as Octavia slowly blinked herself awake. The muddled fog of unconsciousness lingered briefly, but was then replaced by the plodding of hooves, and a soft but steady undulation under her back.
Suddenly, she remembered where she was and how she had come to be there, and her eyes shot open.
"Lincoln!" she gasped.
She rolled off the horse that was carrying her, uncaring of how her wrists stung with the jolt from landing on the muddy earth. She only had one thought: saving the man she loved. Still addled by the Reaper stick, she could only crawl desperately back towards the station.
"Octavia, stop!" Kane called urgently behind her. "It's not safe!"
"I don't care!" she choked out, willing herself to her feet.
The older man grabbed her arms to steady her as she stood. "You can't go back!" he hissed in her ear. "Pike has much bigger problems to worry about than Lincoln. We all do."
"What are you-" Octavia's words died in her mouth as the world around her finally came back into focus, and she froze.
Standing outside the gates was what looked to be the entire Azgeda army, locked in a stand off with Pike and a platoon of guards, while the rest of Skaikru watched on nervously from within the camp walls.
Curiously, the Ice Nation warriors seemed to be forming a circle around two people in particular, and her heart clenched in fear. She knew what that meant.
A challenge had been declared.
It must have been a desperate move by Pike, in order to stall the assault on Arkadia. Briefly, she flashed back to the last time she had witnessed such a duel. It had been when Lexa was calling for Aerrow's head, after he had massacred Lincoln's village. He had challenged her, and the ensuing fight had been as bloody as it was fearsome.
She wondered who could be fighting this time, only for the army to part slightly, giving her a glimpse of the two combatants standing at its centre, and her heart stopped beating altogether.
On one side of the arena was the man she loved.
On the other was Aerrow Eroxin
…
Aerrow was still unable to move.
The shock of Pike's declaration still hadn't worn off, nor had the prospect of what he had to do.
He was going to have to fight Lincoln, the one who had captured the heart of the girl he himself had feelings for. Standing opposite him in the makeshift arena, Lincoln didn't look any better. They both knew what had to happen. There was no escape. One of them was going to die.
Neither said a word. They both simply stared at each other, sharing the same look of utter despair.
Suddenly, Ontari stepped forward and announced. "In single combat, there is one rule: Only one may live."
She held Aerrow's twin coandite swords in the air. "Let it begin. To the death."
She tossed the swords into the middle.
At first, neither man made a move. Indeed, Aerrow himself was struggling just to stay on his feet. He didn't know if Ontari assumed he was faking his condition, of if she counted on Lincoln refusing to kill him. Either way, he was in no shape to do battle, even if he wanted to.
Suddenly Lincoln sprang forwards, completely disregarding the swords and instead choosing to barrel straight into him, tackling him to the ground.
He was powerless to do anything as Lincoln flung him around like a rag doll, using his much greater bulk to his advantage. Eventually, they came to a stop in the middle of the circle, just next to the swords, with Lincoln's arm wrapped around his neck in a choke hold.
"Lincoln- I'm sorry-" Aerrow choked out.
"Shut up and listen." Lincoln growled in his ear.
Aerrow froze at his words. Whatever the grounder was doing, he was doing it for a reason.
"There is a way out of this, but we need to move fast. Elbow me."
Without hesitation, Aerrow mustered all of his strength and sent his elbow back into Lincoln's ribcage. The man grunted and his grip slackened, allowing Aerrow to crawl away, only for Lincoln to regather himself and jump back on top of the teenager, pinning him to the ground and resuming his choke hold.
…
Octavia watched in horror from the distance as Lincoln charged toward Aerrow and tackled him.
She had never felt so powerless in her life. She had no idea what the terms of the fight were, who was fighting for who, and had no way of stopping it.
All she knew was that one of them was going to be killed, and she couldn't bear it to be either of them.
Every fibre of her being was telling her to close her eyes and look away but she couldn't. She just couldn't! Her feet were rooted to the ground and her eyes glued open. All she could do was watch and pray for a miracle.
…
"We both know there's only one way this ends." Lincoln whispered again, too quiet for anyone but Aerrow to hear. "One of us needs to die."
"So do it." Aerrow coughed as he struggled. "Kill me."
Lincoln shook his head. "No… It has to be me."
He rolled, and threw Aerrow onto his other side. "No!" the younger man replied instantly. "I can't… I won't!"
"You heard the terms just as well as me." Lincoln said hurriedly, "Ontari was too distracted to see that Pike was tricking her. If you win she only takes him! Lexa's truce still stands."
Aerrow knew what he was talking about. It had been his plan all along. But that was before Pike sent Lincoln in to fight. "No!" he said again, more firmly this time.
"Aerrow this is about more than you and me! If you win, Pike's rule ends. Octavia and everyone else lives!"
Lincoln looked at him sadly. "You know what you have to do." He said simply, before releasing his grip slightly, allowing Aerrow to move.
Aerrow looked around him, took in the Azgeda warriors baying for blood, the stoic mask adorning Pike's face, and the sadistic scowl on Ontari's. Everything came crashing down around him.
He screamed in fury, and threw Lincoln off him, sending the grounder flying away. He rolled over to find himself staring at his muted reflection in the blade of one of his swords. The weapons just laid there innocently, almost mocking him, daring him to pick them up.
Resigning himself to his fate, he gathered them off the ground and rose shakily to his feet.
Then he brought the two blades together and slid them along each other, creating a high pitched whining noise.
The response was immediate.
A large black and white Lace Monitor burst through the crowd and immediately took its place next to Aerrow.
Cleo.
Having responded to the call just as he had trained her to, she now looked up at him questioningly.
He grimaced as he looked down at his faithful friend. "Forgive me, pretty girl." He whispered brokenly to her. He reached down and stuck his hand out in front of her mouth. The Lizard hesitated for a moment. Then she opened her mouth and bit him. Hard.
Aerrow clenched his teeth and groaned as he felt her venom soak into his blood, and braced for the coming explosion of pain.
It hit him harder than ever before, igniting his nerves like wildfire and bringing him to his knees. As strange as it may have seemed, he had gotten her to bite him for a reason. He was in no condition to fight, his body failing him and his energy all but gone completely. He needed something to get him through the duel.
Adrenaline.
It surged through him in response to the agony, replacing the pain with raw instinct. The will to survive.
Aerrow seethed at the new energy and raised his head to find Lincoln coming back towards him. His reflexes momentarily restored, Aerrow leapt aside, rolling across the ground before springing back up. If this was going to work, it needed to be believable.
Lincoln came again, leading with a right hook, but Aerrow deflected the blow with the flat blade of his sword, before spinning and sending a strike of his own at Lincoln's head. The man ducked and then, with impressive speed, sent a lightning fast kick at Aerrow's dominant left hand.
The kick connected, and Aerrow's fist automatically sprang open, and the sword fell. Lincoln snatched it out of the air and the two re-engaged, this time with an identical blade each.
They swang at each other with measured strikes, none seriously aiming to kill. The warriors jeered. They wanted a death.
Aerrow deflected another of Lincoln's blows, doing everything he could to delay what needed to happen. He span around and caught Lincoln's blade, holding the two swords in a stalemate.
Breathing heavily and with his eyes full of water, Aerrow sent a pleading look to his opponent. "Please don't make me do this." He begged.
Lincoln shook his head. "It's the only way."
"But Octavia needs you!"
Lincoln looked down. When he looked back up, Aerrow was surprised to see tears matching his own welling up. "She needs you more." He said quietly.
Aerrow froze, stunned by the admission. Then the cold, dark truth settled on him.
There really was no other way out of this.
As the first tears began rolling down his cheeks, he made the final move.
…
From the distance, Octavia hadn't breathed since the fight had started. Her fists were clenched tightly together, and her face was twisted in agony.
She watched as they wrestled on the ground. She watched as Aerrow was bitten by Cleo. She watched as they traded blows with identical blades. The entire time, hoping beyond hope that one of them had a plan to get out of this.
She felt vomit rise in her throat when Aerrow suddenly broke the deadlock, bringing his sword down and cleaving it through Lincoln's arm. Her hands flew to her mouth when she saw his entire forearm drop, followed by a grizzly spray of arterial blood. His agonised cry echoed hauntingly in her ears as Aerrow flipped over him and kicked his knees in.
She sank to the ground with him.
She knew what had just happened.
It was over.
…
Tears by this stage were pouring from Aerrow's eyes, dripping onto his chest and streaking through the blood that had sprayed onto him when he had severed Lincoln's arm.
It was all he could do not to completely break down at the defeated look on his opponent's face. It was a look he had seen so many times: the realisation that death was approaching, and nothing could stop it.
He forced himself to look away, and flicked between the stunned look on Pike's face and Ontari's victorious smirk.
Breathing heavily, he forced himself to look back down at Lincoln. "I'm sorry." He whispered, broken. "I'm so… so sorry…"
Lincoln didn't break eye contact. "I'm not." He said stoically. "Just promise me you'll be there for her when I'm gone. Be the person she needs you to be."
Aerrow gulped, and found himself reciting a phrase he hadn't heard in a long, long time.
"The soul is the heart of the warrior. The warrior is the soul of the Earth. The Earth is the blade of the heart. The heart is the warrior of the soul. All are connected. The Earth, the heart, the soul, the warrior. You… are one."
The Qinta mantra of death.
For his part, Lincoln merely looked to the sky. "May we meet again." He whispered.
Then he looked back at Aerrow, and nodded solemnly.
Aerrow closed his eyes.
Then he drove his sword through Lincoln's chest.
…
Octavia stood there, powerless as Aerrow stood over him.
She saw him bow his head. Saw him whisper goodbye.
She saw Aerrow plunge his sword straight into his heart, and her own ripped in two. Pain laced out from her chest as if she herself had been stabbed.
"No…" she whimpered.
She couldn't believe it. She didn't want to believe it. Lincoln was dead. Killed by the only other person she cared about.
She cried no tears though.
Her eyes remained completely dry. She was feeling so much that she couldn't feel anything at all. It was all a muted static, screaming to burst free yet at the same time vanishing into an empty husk.
She swayed on her feet as she locked her eyes on the person still standing over the body of her lover. Still alive, when Lincoln was not. The person who had been given every chance to come back and fight with her, for her, yet had instead killed her very heart and soul.
The hollowness vanished.
To be replaced by coursing, boiling hatred.
She didn't even feel Kane's hand on her shoulder in sympathy. Barely registered his warning that they needed to leave before they were spotted.
Her body was on autopilot as she turned away from the dreadful scene, her mind focussed on only one thing.
The next time she saw Aerrow Eroxin, she was going to kill him.
…
Aerrow stood still, frozen in shock.
He could only watch, as if he was one of the crowd as Lincoln fell – sword still in his chest – and collapsed into a puddle at the centre of the arena. The brown water was quickly stained red as he bled out, his eyes dulled and his chest evened before finally laying still. Dead.
Aerrow brought his hands to his head. What the fuck had he just done!
Hyperventilating, and shaking with grief, he was about to let loose an agonised cry, when he glimpsed Ontari raising her sword at Arkadia. "Kill them all." She ordered icily.
The Ice nation warriors drew their weapons as one and began advancing. Inside the wall, the gathered spectators retreated in terror.
"WAIT!"
The army stopped in their tracks as an enraged voice spoke up.
Ontari dropped her gaze to find Aerrow standing between her and Arkadia. His sword, still stained with Lincoln's blood, was levelled at her throat.
"Get out of the way, worm." She glared at him. "You won the duel for me, now step aside and let me finish what I came here for."
Aerrow stood his ground. "No."
Ontari narrowed her eyes. "What?"
"No." Aerrow repeated. His whole body was shaking, both from the pain of the duel and sheer fury at what he had been forced to do. His every muscle was clenched while his eyes, previously dull and lifeless, were now blazing blue fire.
"I won the duel. But you forgot the terms." He seethed at her, "You win, and you take him." He gestured to Pike, "And you leave the rest of Arkadia alone, as per Lexa's order."
"Lexa isn't here." Ontari dropped her voice venomously.
"No." Aerrow replied. "But I am. And I will challenge you again and again and again. I will kill every warrior you pit against me until you yourself lay cold and dead at my feet."
He stormed towards her. She attempted to hold a dagger to him, but he batted it aside like it was nothing and jammed his sword against her throat.
"I'm only going to tell you one more time, Ontari." He said slowly, dangerously. "Take your prize and leave. Or I take your head here and now and you never become Commander."
Ontari held his glare for a moment, before her eyes flickered uncertainly and finally, she backed down.
"Don't think this is over." She scowled at him murderously. "Take him!"
Still stunned by the outcome of the fight, Pike didn't resist as the Ice Nation warriors grabbed him roughly and wrapped him in Aerrow's old chains. The guards protested but he told them to stand down. He had no other choice if his people were to survive. An Ice Nation guard then slammed the butt of his spear in the back of his head and the man slumped, unconscious.
Aerrow watched as they loaded the Chancellor onto a cart and slowly began to leave. He knew it wasn't the last he had seen of Ontari, but at least he had bought himself – and everyone else – some time. All he could do now was honour Lincoln's dying wish.
As the last of the army receded from sight, his emotions finally caught up to him as he looked down at the dead and bloodied corpse at his feet.
He sank to his knees beside it, releasing his emotions in great heaving cries of despair, sobbing in agony at what he had been forced to do.
…
This was observed only by one other.
While the rest of the citizens had watched the duel with horror, had gasped fearfully when Aerrow killed Lincoln, and then again when the grounders had taken Pike, none of them had stayed outside for the aftermath. Instead they had rushed for the mess hall, to reconvene and try to restore order now that their esteemed leader had fallen into enemy hands.
All except for one.
Thelonius Jaha stood in the courtyard, unaffected by the damp, drizzling rain. His eyes were locked solely on the desolate form of Aerrow, still kneeling, head bowed in the mud.
So much pain… so much suffering…
He turned to the person standing next to him. A woman in a red dress, invisible to all but a few. "What do you think?" he asked her.
A.L.I.E smiled tightly.
"I think we've found our next target."
I'm sorry Lincoln… I'm so so sorry…
Unfortunately, as great as he is, his death was inevitable in this story, as was Lexa's. these characters need to be gone to drive the plot (and if I'm totally honest, Lincoln never really served a purpose in any of my stories.)
For those a bit confused as to why Ontari and Pike didn't just declare war on each other, let me clarify: Pike, in my opinion, never wanted to attack the grounders. He wanted to defend his people, even if that meant taking psychopathic precautions. Ontari meanwhile, although incredibly bloodthirsty, is also incredibly vain. She cares about herself above all others, so when it was her own life at risk, she backed down. At the same time, she didn't just want to obliterate Arkadia, she wanted them to know she was doing it, which is why she waited for Pike to face her. From there, she was too caught up in her own ambition to realise Pike and Aerrow were tricking her. A bit convenient perhaps, but I have been planning this scene for years, and I needed a way to both deal with Pike earlier than cannon, and have Aerrow, tragically, kill Lincoln in front of Octavia.
For those a bit tired of the depressing nature of this story, be assured that this is the last of the emotional torment I put Aerrow through, though how he recovers in the aftermath won't exactly be bright, especially with Jaha and A.L.I.E now interested in him.
Apologies for the massive break between the last chapter and this one. I've been very busy, and also pretty sick recently, but I've used the time to plan chapter by chapter what is going to happen until the end, so hopefully it will be done by the end of the year.
Please let me know what you think of the chapter, and stay tuned for more.
