Hello, all! Long time no see! I've only just arrived on the other side of the country, now is the hunt for work and exploring surroundings. This fic is still, technically, under hiatus but I'll try to update inconsistently until I get a proper schedule. I missed you all, and I missed this fic!
HOO BOY was this chapter ever hard to write, though. I had a lot of points I needed to get through before I could change pov, and so this just kept getting longer and longer. But that's good news for you! More to enjoy!
I might try to shorten the chapters again, it makes everything seem like it's happening faster. Can you believe that with the length of this story, only about 1 full week of time? My planning for it is that this fic is going to last the entire winter (in-universe) so… we may do some time-jumps haha. But not yet.
There's a lot of blood and killing in this chapter, not to mention various injurious that come from fighting to the death. Bellamy is the poster child on 'how not to handle having a concussion'.
As for pseudo-science, here's what's important about the wolves, since it doesn't really come up in-fic. The wolves in the story aren't (timber/gray) wolves like you and I know them. They're heavily interbred with what remained of dog populations after the nuclear war, so their fur is a wide variety of colors and patterns that you wouldn't find in true wild animals. Some of them might even have the curly tail or floppy ears of domesticated animals, but since this story is also vaguely a Long Time after nuclear fallout, those traits may have been lost. No one in the fic is going to know this because they've never seen a dog or a wolf to know they're different and how they've changed, and also because they don't really care about those details when the wolves are trying to eat your face.
And, because they're post-nuclear war and animals that live in high radiation conditions, they're also Really Big Mutant Wolves. RBMW lmao. Gotta go with that rule of cool.
Shoutout to tumblr user Acesophos who helped me translate a lot of the Trigadeslang in this chapter! As always with Trig in these chapters, translations are provided at the end of the chapter. (Ctrl F is your friend if you're on desktop). All of the translations probably aren't grammatically correct, but they're based on the info available at . There's a lot of cool stuff there!
Lastly, a huge thank-you to everyone who's left a review. You light the fires in my heart and make writing this story so much fun. I love to delight and surprise you, and I'm super emotional when you tell me about it.
On to the chapter!
Bellamy took aim, exhaled, and fired. The gunshot cracked like thunder, thrilling him from head to toe. His shoulder took the brunt of the recoil. He'd struck the wolf in the shoulder and it tripped, but he hadn't killed it. He took aim at another one running at him. This time he wouldn't miss.
Lexa kicked Bellamy's gun out of his hands, sending it sliding across the ice.
"No guns!" she shouted.
He was going to kill her. Four monsters running at them and she took his only weapon?
She had a sword drawn, and stood between him and the oncoming animals. The biggest one leapt and tackled Lexa, knocking her right into Bellamy. The three of them tumbled across the ice. There was a loud crash nearby. People were screaming. Jaws snapped inches from Bellamy's ear. Lexa elbowed him in the gut in her struggle to get free. Bellamy tried to shove her and the monster off of himself. Lexa tore free like a bullet. The monster rolled over and was face to face with Bellamy. He stared into its yellow-black eyes and faintly remembered his Earth Skills classes. 'Wolf' he thought distinctly, 'this is a wolf'.
The wolf snapped at Bellamy's face, and Lexa stabbed it through the throat. It gagged, and bloody spittle splashed Bellamy in the face. It was coughing, dying on Lexa's sword. Bellamy pushed himself to his feet as Lexa struggled to hold it down with her sword. It was a poor vantage point. The wolf was turning to face Lexa, slowly overpowering her. It was so big. It's head came up to Bellamy's chest.
It was struggling to its feet, ready to kill as it was being killed. Bellamy snapped out of his shock and kicked it in the jaw while it was focused on Lexa. It slipped and Lexa drew her sword out to stab it again and again. Bellamy stomped on its head as hard as he could. There was no time to celebrate. The rest of the world came back in startling sound. People were screaming—there were more wolves back on shore with Abby and Kane. They were all running onto the ice. A wagon was down—no, the sick wagon was down! Raven was being dragged away by her bad leg. Wick was running after her. Bellamy could see a wolf circling the overturned sick wagon. The horses were trying to run, and dragging the wagon with them. Unconscious people were spilling out of the wagon across the ice. Bellamy's heart skipped a beat. Octavia!
"No guns!" Lexa was shouting desperately. Her call was being echoed by other grounders who were charging in to fight with daggers and arrows. The wolves' fur was so thick that Bellamy wasn't sure the arrows could do any good.
Bellamy took off towards the wagon. His feet were slipping on the ice and he could barely stay upright. He had no traction and barreled right into the wagon, catching himself on the rough wood. He used it to pull himself around the corner.
The wolf was eating someone. It was facing away from Bellamy and its head jerked as it struggled to tear a bite of meat off of the body. Bellamy covered his mouth before he threw up. Steam rose up from the heat of the blood. The wolf was using one massive paw to pin the body down. Bellamy could see long black hair under the wolf. His knees gave out.
"No, no," he gasped.
Clarke on horseback charged onto the scene, startling both him and the wolf. The wolf leapt out to challenge her. Her horse reared back and she was thrown. Bellamy couldn't see where she landed. The horses tied to the wagon were bucking and kicking, practically screaming for all the noise they were making.
Without the wolf blocking his view, Bellamy realized his mistake. Octavia was underneath the man being eaten! She needed him before it was too late. Relief hit him like a punch in the chest. He couldn't breathe. His sister was still alive.
Bellamy saw the wolf turn back to its kill. It's face was covered in blood—and it was limping. It was the wolf he'd managed to shoot in the shoulder. He looked around, desperate. There was nothing to use as a weapon. He couldn't just watch his sister be killed. Drool oozed between the wolfs long fangs. There was nothing for Bellamy to do but move.
"Get away from her!" Bellamy shouted, leaping out of his hiding spot.
The wolf snarled, stepping back. The teeth were big enough to rip out his throat. He had nothing but his fists but he had to protect Octavia. Bellamy stepped forwards, stepping closer to Octavia and the dead man. It smelled terrible. He had to draw the wolf away from Octavia, or get between it and her. The wolf growled, Bellamy growled back. He kept walking forwards.
Bellamy held eye contact with the wolf, using everything in his will to force it back. He stepped carefully over the bodies, over Octavia, to put himself in between them. There was more blood on this side, and his boot slipped.
The stagger was all it took. The wolf saw his weakness and lunged. Bellamy tried to respond but he lost his balance in the blood and tumbled backwards. The wolf hit him at an awkward angle, unable to get its teeth in his throat like it wanted, and bit into the meaty part of Bellamy's forearm that he brought up to protect himself. They tumbled backwards, onto the half-eaten body. Bellamy knocked his head against the ice so hard he saw stars. The wolf let go of his arm as it tumbled onto its back. His jacket was torn to pieces, and Bellamy could feel his own warm blood running down his arm.
The wolf scrambled to its feet much faster than Bellamy could. His boots were slippery with dead mans blood and his arm ached when he put pressure on it to lift himself up. The wolf spun, digging its claws into the ice to give it traction, and snapped at his face. Bellamy threw himself backwards, onto his ass again. He could feel Octavia under him, the dead man at his back. The wolfs teeth closed a hair away from his nose. Bellamy grabbed the first thing he could feel to swing at the wolf. It happened to be the dead mans arm, which the wolf sunk its teeth into and nearly bit Bellamy's fingers off.
Sprawled on his back with the wolf on top of him, biting into a dead man's arm, Bellamy pulled back his knee and kicked out as hard as he could. He caught the wolf in the gunshot wound he'd made minutes ago and its leg buckled. With a yelp it pulled back, giving him a bit of space.
Bellamy had nowhere else to go. He wouldn't get up in time, there was nothing resembling a weapon around him, and the wolf was ready to kill. If it ate him, hopefully it would leave Octavia alone. There were screams all around him. Everyone was being torn apart by the wolves.
Bellamy rolled, covering Octavia's head with his body, and braced for the worst. He heard the wolf snarl, and then a shriek. He lifted his head and the wolf was stumbling backwards, an arrow lodged firmly in its eye. It teetered for a moment, and then collapsed on its side.
"Bellamy!" Lincoln shouted, sprinting to him. He'd fired the arrow. Bellamy had never felt so relieved to see Lincoln in his life. He heard a loud crack as if someone had split the sky apart.
Bellamy sat up, feeling incredibly tired and terrified all in the same moment. That sound had to be the ice breaking. Had someone fallen through? They needed to get off the ice immediately.
Lincoln slid to a smooth stop beside them and the two of them pulled Octavia out from under the corpse. She was soaked with blood, both the dead mans and Bellamy's, but she was breathing.
"We need to get out of here," Bellamy said. He was breathless and full of adrenaline. His hands were shaking.
Lexa's shriek made him jump, "Clarke!" The ice breaking—had Clarke fallen through?
The Commander leapt over the upturned wagon in one leap and Bellamy watched her sprint across the ice as if her life depended on it.
"Go," Lincoln urged him. Bellamy's head was spinning. He stumbled his way into a run, following Lexa.
Lexa dropped to her knees, sliding a few feet before coming to a stop, and physically punched through the ice. Bellamy saw the ice begin to fracture around her. It was too thin! What was she doing?
Something metal caught the light beside Lexa. It was the tip of a knife, sticking up from under the ice. Like someone had stabbed it there, from underneath.
"Oh my god," Bellamy breathed out. He couldn't tear his eyes away.
Lexa tore chunks of the ice away beside the knife tip with her bare hands and before Bellamy could get close enough to help her she plunged her hands into the river water, so deep in that she even put her head and shoulders underwater. Bellamy dropped to his hands and knees and tried to crawl the last length. It was too slippery to keep his balance and the ice was bending under his weight. His heart was hammering in his chest. One wrong move and he'd fall into the river and he couldn't swim.
Lexa rocked back with her whole body, water pouring off of her long hair and down her back. She'd dropped her winter cloak at some point during the fight.
She dragged someone—Clarke, it was Clarke— out of the water in almost one pull. Clarke looked like a corpse. Her lips were blue and her skin was ash-grey. She was clinging to another hand, emerging from the water.
"Raven!" Bellamy shouted. He reached Lexa's side. She was digging her heels into the sinking ice, water pooling around her feet, and trying to walk backwards, pulling both women from the river on her own strength. Bellamy grabbed Raven's arm emerging from the water and heaved hard. He pulled Raven's upper torso mostly out of the water, reached down into the water—it was so cold—to grab the waistband of her pants to get better leverage. The ice was bending under his feet. Cold water was seeping into his boots. If they didn't move they were all going to fall in.
Lexa was still pulling, resisting the tug of the river that was still trying to pull Raven—and Clarke, who was frozen to Raven's grip—back under. Bellamy pulled again. Raven came free of the water. The heel of his left foot broke through the ice and he fell up to his knee through the ice. A hand grabbed the back of his jacket and hauled him backwards.
Kane let go of Bellamy quickly and the two of them push-pulled Raven to safety using the momentum Lexa was creating by pulling Clarke away. They dropped the two girls at Abby's feet.
"Clarke? Clarke!" Abby shouted, shaking her daughter. She was openly crying, and her hands were bloody. She'd been bitten on her right shoulder and blood had seeped through her sleeve. She leaned down to listen to Clarke's breathing and checked her pulse.
"She's alive," Abby gasped, relieved.
"Raven's not breathing," Kane shouted.
Bellamy wasn't medically trained. He didn't know what to do to help. Lexa was pacing in tight circles around them, glancing up and away to keep a lookout for any more attacks. The wolves had fled.
Abby almost pounced onto Raven. She ripped Raven's jacket open with a force Bellamy didn't know she had.
"Tilt her head back," she ordered Kane, "CPR—do you remember?" Kane nodded quickly and he started doing compressions on Raven's chest while Abby pinched her nose and breathed every few moments.
"Bellamy," Lexa called, "help me."
Bellamy turned around. Lexa was trying to get Clarke's soaking clothes off of her.
"She'll freeze to death," Lexa explained.
They'd just been through this that very morning. Bellamy couldn't believe they were saving Clarke from the same fate twice in one day.
"Come on, Raven," Kane said desperately. He was breathing hard with the exertion of CPR. Bellamy wasn't sure how much longer he could keep his rhythm.
"Bellamy," Lexa hissed again, snapping him into action.
Clarke regained consciousness as Lexa was trying to manhandle her into a sitting position. She groaned and pushed back at Lexa's hands.
"Clarke," Lexa sounded more tender than Bellamy had ever thought she could be, "Clarke, stop fighting or you will die."
"No," Clarke whimpered. Her hands were still frozen into claws. Bellamy couldn't get her to let go of Raven's hand.
"Raven, wake up!" Abby shouted, "don't give up on me!"
Po rushed to their aid, holding Lexa's thick cloak.
"Keep her hands back," Lexa instructed. Po took Clarke's arm while Bellamy was still trying to warm up Clarke's other hand. Lexa had a small knife in her belt and she cut Clarke's shirt up the front. Bellamy looked away to give Clarke some privacy. The movement of his head made his stomach lurch. Indra was standing further back, closer to where Octavia was. She had her sword drawn and was watching both sides of the river.
At that moment Raven convulsed violently, vomiting onto the ice.
"Roll her!" Abby said, grabbing at Raven's shoulders, "don't let her choke!"
Bellamy remembered the position they'd put Octavia into only days ago. He managed to wrench Clarke and Raven's hands apart so that Raven could be rolled onto her side. She took in deep, wheezing breaths that sounded more like she was being strangled.
"Raven, honey, it's okay, you're gonna be okay," Abby was talking fast. She looked up and her eyes met Bellamy's. She was looking for an answer.
"Good," Bellamy said. He meant Clarke was good, but his brain and mouth wouldn't coordinate. He couldn't understand why he felt so out of place. Everyone seemed to be moving so much faster than him, his brain couldn't keep up.
"Wick!" Raven screamed on her next breath, "Wick! Where's Wick?"
Kane looked downriver, horror in his face.
"He was… the wolf," Clarke slurred. Lexa had Clarke wrapped in her cloak and was rubbing her arms to get blood flowing. Clarke was still grey with blue lips. Her eyes were half-lidded like she might fall asleep at any second. Her face was covered in bright red scrapes.
Abby moved over to her daughter, "Clarke, baby. Stay awake. I need you to stay awake, okay? You're hypothermic. I know you're tired but you can't go to sleep."
Clarke nodded mutely.
"She will not die," Lexa stated, as if it was a fact.
Indra approached slowly, standing beside Po who was hovering over them all. She was staring at Abby in awe. She was glancing between Raven and Clarke and back to Abby.
"Sekenomon," she said after a moment, "it's true."
Raven was trying to push herself up onto her knees, and kept coughing up more water. Her normally dark skin was sickly pale, paler than Bellamy had ever seen her.
"Wick!" she called. Her voice was weak and coarse, "Wick!"
She was dripping wet, and shaking so badly her teeth were clicking together. Her leg was bleeding, and there was a cut high on her temple that was bleeding freely now.
"We need blankets," Abby said quickly, "we have to get them warmed up. Bellamy—check the wagon."
Bellamy—that was him. She was talking to him and he needed to do something. He pushed himself to his feet and the world lurched underneath him like someone had turned off the gravity. He hit the ice hard and only just avoided hitting his head.
"Are you hurt?" Lexa pulled him upright. She started checking for injuries and noticed the bite on his arm, "this is not enough to fell a warrior—" she trailed off when she looked into his face.
"Sekenomon," Lexa called, talking to Abby, "his eyes!"
Bellamy knew that they were talking about him, but they all felt so far away. It was like he was watching people put on a performance of his life. He should be more worried about why he couldn't stand, but standing seemed like such a strange thought he wasn't sure why he needed to stand at all.
Abby held his eye open with her thumbs, frowning. She had dirt and tear tracks down her face, and blood running from her shoulder to her wrist. She left wet blood on his face.
"How many fingers am I holding up?" she asked.
She was holding up a hand. Bellamy knew that. This should be a simple question. But the thought of trying to focus on her fingers made his head ache like there was a high-pitched noise whiting out all of his other senses. He felt sick.
"You hit your head, didn't you?" Abby asked.
He hit his head when he was attacked by grounders, like a week ago. And it still hurt—oh yeah, and he'd hit the ice when the wolf attacked him.
"Yeah," Bellamy managed to say. He hoped that was the right response.
"You're concussed, well, more concussed," Abby said, "your pupils are dilated and it looks like your balance is shot. I can't tell any more without my equipment."
"Will he live?" Lexa pressed.
Abby looked surprised by Lexa's aggressiveness, "Yes. Bellamy will have to ride in the wagon, but he's not in any danger. Clarke and Raven are our priorities right now."
Bellamy found himself in the sick wagon—how did it get upright?—with a mostly-naked Clarke shivering in his lap and the two of them wrapped in Lexa's cloak. Abby was in a similar position with Raven, sitting next to them. The remaining sick people were in the wagon with them, and Lincoln, who was the new guard. The sun was setting, casting bright arrays of light across the sky but thickening the shadows in the forest around them.
"Remember," Abby told him, "neither of you can fall asleep."
Clarke was so cold Bellamy didn't think he could be warm again. Her head kept knocking into his jaw as she shook and he was scared of biting his tongue. He had his arms locked around her waist to keep her from sliding around or falling out of Lexa's coat because that would be embarrassing.
Raven was crying. She was hyperventilating—both she and Clarke were—but between the sobs and the shivering it didn't seem like she had room to breathe either.
Lexa and Kane rode up beside the wagon. Lexa looked like she was riding a piece of starless sky, and she towered above them. Kane was riding Clarke's horse. Were they off the ice? Bellamy couldn't remember getting into the wagon. Abby said his short-term memory might be a little wonky.
"There was a lot of blood," Kane said, "I don't… I don't know if Wick…"
Abby was stroking Raven's hair, and Raven was either so delirious she couldn't hear him or couldn't hear over her own crying.
"Are you sure?" Abby asked, "should we be sending a search party?"
"The river is very strong," Lexa said, "if he could swim, there might be a chance. But Clarke said the pakstoka took him by the throat. I think the ice has taken him."
"Then we should find his body," Kane insisted, "he saved Raven's life. He's one of ours."
"We can't risk any more warriors," Lexa said, "I am sorry for your loss."
"Will they come back?" Bellamy asked. If the wolves attacked again, he wasn't sure they were ready.
"The wolves? We killed two, and then the one in the river," Kane said, "the others were scared off."
"They should not have attacked such a number of people," Lincoln said.
"They could smell the sickness. They knew the people here were weak," Po said, walking beside the wagon. Bellamy hadn't seen Tara since the wolves attacked. What a useless bodyguard, "they were sick themselves. They are missing fur." Po gestured to his thick neck to explain where the wolves were missing fur.
"If they were hungry, they had to be desperate," Abby said.
"We cannot wait," Lexa said, "we must drive fast now. Night will come soon, and Azgeda knows where we are. The gun gave it away."
Bellamy knew she was staring at him, blaming him for that, but he couldn't feel angry. If he'd been allowed to use his gun then maybe Wick wouldn't have died. Maybe Octavia wouldn't have been nearly eaten alive.
Lexa rode to the head of the caravan to lead the way.
"Can we trust her?" Kane asked quickly, "with Bellamy and Clarke stuck here?"
Bellamy wanted to object to being talked about like he wasn't there, but Clarke fidgeted and hit him in the ribs and he pinched her to make her stop.
"They're engaged," Abby said incredulously, "how can you possibly ask that?"
Oh yeah, Bellamy should have objected. He didn't trust himself to lie right now so he stayed quiet, glancing out into the trees.
Kane grimaced, "Sorry, you're right. I was out of line."
"Have hope, Marcus," Abby said, "there's love in the world. Things are going to change."
Kane smiled at her but didn't say anything more.
It was so dark Bellamy couldn't see anyone walking behind the wagon or ahead of them. Lexa wasn't allowing torches. The moon was rising, and that was helping a bit, but the trees stole a lot of the moonlight.
Monty had pressed himself between Bellamy and Abby, draping himself over Raven and he held onto her until he fell asleep again. Raven had stopped loudly crying a while ago, though Bellamy was sure she wouldn't stop crying for a long time.
Lexa's cloak was warm, much warmer than Bellamy had thought, but it stank like grounder and animal skin. Abby kept telling Clarke to keep her head covered as well, which made her grumble and irritable. Bellamy's ears and nose were frozen, and his feet were numb from Clarke sitting in his lap.
He couldn't believe he'd seen Clarke dressed down twice now. If she had been anyone else— someone a little less Clarke—he'd have slept with them by now. Earth was a cruel place by taunting him with someone who wanted nothing to do with him twice. Besides, even though he'd never considered sleeping with Clarke didn't mean he wouldn't if the opportunity came up, except that Clarke had made it clear that wasn't going to happen. It had been a while since he'd last had sex with anyone, since he'd been busy keeping Camp Jaha running and now the entire mess with Lexa and Octavia being sick, which was probably why he was thinking about it at the worst possible moment. He'd have to change that as soon as possible.
The realization caught Bellamy off-guard. He was engaged. He couldn't have sex with whoever he wanted anymore. He was stuck with Clarke, which sucked. Or there was Lexa, who was worse. He was getting married to people who did nothing but ruin his life, and on top of that there wouldn't be any sex. Marriage was binding and for life.
He sank down in defeat. Clarke's blonde head poked out of the fur cloak.
"Stop moving," she grumbled, "keep your hands still."
She'd regained her superiority complex, it seemed. Clarke made the rules and Bellamy was literally just there for her to sit on and keep her warm.
"Tell me, Princess," Bellamy asked, and adjusted so she had to sit between his legs and he could get some relief from her weight, "has Lexa always been into you? Or is this a new thing?"
"What?" Clarke hissed. She shifted to face him and her hip dug painfully into his groin. Bellamy grabbed her by the waist to move her and she elbowed him in the ribs.
"Don't touch me," Clarke growled. Bellamy grabbed her arms so that she wouldn't hit him again. Her back was pressed to his chest this way, and he hooked his chin over her shoulder to talk in her ear without anyone else being able to hear him.
"I'm not doing anything, calm down," he whispered, "I was just wondering. Lexa was really concerned about you."
"It's none of your damn business," Clarke snapped. She turned her head to face him so that they were nearly nose to nose.
"There's no need to bite my head off. I've saved your life twice today," Bellamy muttered.
"Well go do something useful and keep an eye on Lexa," Clarke said, "the longer we leave her alone the more time she has to do something."
Unfortunately, Clarke had a point.
"Fine. At least it'll get me away from you," Bellamy said.
Kane and Abby were passing the time with quiet chatter. It was a lot colder now. Bellamy's feet were sticking out from under Lexa's cloak and his toes had gone numb. Clarke was still shivering against him but nowhere as badly as she'd been before. She'd be fine without him.
Kane kept shifting in the saddle while he talked, grimacing, until Abby laughed at him.
"Horses aren't very comfortable," Kane complained, "I think I'd rather walk."
"I'll trade," Bellamy offered, "I want to get up front anyways. You know, to be with Lexa."
"How are you feeling?" Abby asked.
"A little sick," Bellamy admitted, "but present. I'm, uh, at full speed again." In his defense it was hard to tell if he was nauseous or just hungry at this point. They'd been travelling all day, and including the scouting mission, he hadn't stopped to eat once.
"I'm okay too," Clarke said, "a little chilly and I want some clothes, but I'll survive."
Bellamy wanted to shake her. Did she have to say it like that? To her mother? Now it seemed like he was ditching her in favor of Lexa even though this was her plan in the first place.
"If you're sure," Abby said slowly, "Clarke, hypothermia is serious."
"She's warm," Bellamy said, "not even shivering anymore."
"If that's what you want," Kane said. Bellamy untangled himself from Clarke and the cloak and Lincoln helped him step off the back of the wagon. Kane pulled the horse to the side to dismount and took a moment to stretch out his legs.
"Apparently in Old Earth," Kane said, "people would ride horses for days. I thought I was going to die if I had to ride for a few more minutes."
Bellamy grimaced, "Is it that bad?"
"When it's bumpy, try to stand up," Kane advised with a laugh.
Clarke's horse wasn't as large as Lexa's—it blew Bellamy's mind that animals could get that big—but it was still bigger than anything he was comfortable with. He was able to get a foot in the stirrup and swing himself into the saddle on his own. Horses felt weird, they were nothing like sitting in a seat. They spread your legs almost uncomfortably wide, and they didn't listen to your every command. There was an actual brain, a living creature, that was taking direction from the reigns and could decide to ignore him at any moment. They made Bellamy very uneasy.
The horse was content to walk with the wagon, and Bellamy had some trouble convincing it to speed up. After that he tried to focus on steering it so it didn't run anyone over. More than a few people had to jump out of his way.
He encountered Tara walking with a small child in her arms.
"So you are alive," Bellamy commented.
"Mangy pakstoka can't kill me," Tara shrugged.
"So where were you? I almost died," Bellamy said.
Tara furrowed her brow in confusion, "You are Wangona. You don't need protection in battle," she hefted the sleeping child in her arms, "I had to protect my sister."
A sister? That surprised Bellamy. He'd assumed the child was hers. There was a huge age difference, unless Tara was much younger than she appeared.
"You have a sister?" Bellamy said.
Tara looked down at her sleeping sister and back at Bellamy, as if she couldn't believe he was just stating the obvious.
"What about your parents?" he asked, glancing around.
Tara frowned, "My nomon and I were in the mountain. Then my sister joined us. My nomon did not survive Maun-de."
The little girl couldn't be more than four. Where the mountain men so brutal that they'd bleed out a child? Bellamy was sickened, but not entirely surprised. They'd been willing to torture his own people to death to save themselves. Apparently there was no end to how disgusting they were.
"Heda rides ahead," Tara prompted.
Bellamy took the dismissal and urged his horse to speed up.
If Lexa was surprised to see him up and riding she didn't show it. Didn't even look happy.
"Where are we?" Bellamy asked. It was nearly impossible to see up ahead since it was so dark. The mountains had all faded into the sky and night was closing in on them.
"We are a little over an hour from Mt Weather," Lexa confirmed, "but I fear this will be the hardest part of our journey yet."
"Any more rivers to cross?" Bellamy asked.
Lexa glanced over at him—it was weird having to look up to see her on her horse—and Bellamy could tell she was angry, even if she wasn't showing it, "No. But Azgeda will be moving to intercept us. They have realized we did not take the mountain path, and the gunfire gave away our location. In the dark it is safest to move slowly, but we will have to hurry to reach the mountain before their forces hit us."
"I'm not apologizing for it," Bellamy said, "the gun. You shouldn't have knocked it out of my hands. I could have killed all of those wolves before they hurt anyone."
"You are useless without one," Lexa said, "I am… I was not expecting that."
"What did you think? I'm not a grounder," Bellamy said.
"But you are Wangona," Lexa said.
"What does that even mean?" Bellamy asked.
"The Warrior of Death," Lexa said, and she looked surprised that apparently no one had informed Bellamy about that, "you are the great warrior that infiltrated Moun-de. My people speak highly of you—they said you killed a man with ferocity and strength, even after the mountain men had poisoned you and taken your blood."
Bellamy's stomach lurched. He'd tried to avoid thinking about Lovejoy's death. It brought up memories of Lovejoy's son smiling at him.
"It was kill or be killed," Bellamy said, "I took him by surprise."
"But for a warrior to be so reliant on one weapon," Lexa huffed, "we are lucky no one else has noticed. You must begin a warriors training immediately."
"I'm not doing anything," Bellamy said, "you don't give me orders."
"My people will not respect a leader who cannot defend himself," Lexa insisted, "I will make sure you have a good teacher. You have a warriors heart, Bellamy, but you cannot be reliant on your guns. There will be many times when you will not have one."
"Fine," Bellamy muttered. More training couldn't be bad, he figured. Octavia would be over the moon. She'd tried to get him to train with her several times but always got mad that he wouldn't hit her hard. That, and, the last time he'd tried wrestling gently with her she'd bitten him and they hadn't talked to each other for two days.
The horse veered off suddenly, deciding to put its head down and try to find a snack. Bellamy had to lean back, standing up in the stirrups, to wrench its head back up and get it back on the trail.
"I can see why the original grounders started using cars," Bellamy grumbled.
"You have no control," Lexa observed. She was showing off, not even holding the reigns to her horse and guiding it with her knees.
"And how do I get some?" Bellamy snapped. He wasn't in the mood for Lexa telling him all the things he wasn't good at.
"Trust," Lexa said simply, "and guidance. You hold the reigns too firmly, but let them get too loose and the horse will do what it wishes."
Bellamy rolled his eyes, "That's very helpful."
"Have you ever held a sword?" Lexa asked.
Bellamy shrugged. They were back to his lack of training apparently, "I guess? Like I said, I'm better with a gun."
"Here," Lexa said, "get used to the weight."
She struggled to draw her sword, hissing in pain as she did so. Her hand was swollen, knuckles split and while her skin was naturally quite dark, Bellamy could guess that she was bruised up as well.
He was about to ask when she hurt herself until he remembered her punching her way through the sheet of ice to save Clarke.
"Can you even hold it?" Bellamy asked.
Lexa finally managed to unsheathe the sword, and held it out for Bellamy to take.
"I can wield with both hands," she explained, "but drawing it is difficult right now."
"You should get Abby to look at it," Bellamy said. Not that he cared if she did or not, but that was something a fiancé would say.
"Do you know the way to Moun-de?" Lexa asked, "no, I think not. I must guide us so we do not get lost. Hopefully there will be no need to fight."
The sword was longer and heavier than Bellamy expected. He swung it down between the horses as a test. Lexa leaned away nervously.
"Please do not cut someone," she said.
"Do you fight from horseback with this?" Bellamy asked.
"Sometimes," Lexa said, "it can be helpful to have an angle of attack on your opponent, but they are more nimble on the ground. It takes great skill to strike true while riding."
Bellamy tried not to think about how easy it would be to stick Lexa in the ribs right now. With her hand injured she was less likely to be able to defend herself. While a sword wasn't quite as exciting and powerful as a gun in his hands, Bellamy could see the appeal of them. There was a savage beauty in fighting with them that he could appreciate. Not that they'd be any match for a gun.
He switched to his left hand, immediately feeling more awkward and uncoordinated, but now he could swing the sword towards the trees where he wouldn't hit anyone.
"You swing with no form," Lexa said.
"Sorry to disappoint," Bellamy shrugged, "I told you, I'm better with guns."
Bellamy took a few swings at branches as they passed. Mostly he just knocked snow into his face, but he started getting a feel for the weight of the sword and how to hold it steady when he hit wood.
"How is Clarke?" Lexa asked after a while.
"Obnoxious," Bellamy said, "she'll be fine."
"She almost died," Lexa said quietly, "she might have saved herself had she let Raven drown, but instead she chose to die with her friend."
"That's what friends do," Bellamy said, "besides, you saved her."
"Had the ice been any thicker I do not think I could have," Lexa said. She flexed her injured hand and hissed in pain, "both you and Clarke were in danger today."
"That's life," Bellamy shrugged. Was he mistaken or did Lexa actually sound concerned for his wellbeing?
"You and Clarke both must take up training, to learn to defend yourselves. And you must practice caution," Lexa informed him, "for both of your sakes."
"We can take care of ourselves," Bellamy insisted, "and I don't need a grounder bodyguard breathing down my neck all the time." Not that Tara did that. She seemed happy to let him deal with any threat on his own rather than step in and help.
"But you are not just you anymore," Lexa said, "you are a leader, and part of a coalition that has never been seen before. Without us the alliance falls apart. You cannot take your life into your own hands, you must think of your people."
Bellamy wasn't sure if he should be reading a threat into Lexa's words.
"You charge into battle all the time," he said.
"I," Lexa said proudly, and maybe it was the concussion talking but Bellamy thought she almost sounded playful, "am a trained warrior. One day you might be one too."
Bellamy manhandled the sword to try and hand it back to her. He didn't respond to Lexa's taunt. He wasn't sure how to feel about her trying to be friendly with him. Just because they were allies didn't mean they had to like each other. Being nice to him right now wasn't going to make him forget how she'd left them all to die, or that she'd strong-armed him and Clarke into this marriage of hell.
Lights caught his attention.
"What's that?" Bellamy asked. He could barely see anything over Lexa's horse and stood up in the stirrups. Lexa snapped her head around. There were pinpricks of lights moving in the trees. Too far away to count, but if Bellamy squinted he thought he could see the people holding the torches and running for them.
"Azgeda," Lexa whispered, and she looked ahead down whatever path she was leading them on, "we're too far still. They will cut us off."
"How far is Mt Weather? You said an hour away, but that was a while ago," Bellamy said, "if we run, can we make it?"
"Running in the dark is dangerous. The wagons may slip or the horses could fall. Our people have been walking all day, they will not have the energy to run that far either," Lexa hissed, barring her teeth in frustration.
"We have our guns, that has to count for something," Bellamy said, "we set up defenses here."
"And get surrounded?" Lexa snapped, "no, we must make it to Maun-de. We are dead if we do not."
There were more torches now. They were still far away—far enough that they were out of range of arrows or bullets, but it was clear that they were coming in this direction. It didn't take a genius to figure out how they knew to look this way. Bellamy had shot the gun that had marked their location, and he hadn't even made a kill.
"Heda!" Indra shouted, running up to their horses.
"I see them," Lexa said.
"We do not have the forces to fight Azgeda," Indra stressed.
"We have guns," Bellamy said, "we can scare them off."
"They will slaughter our people if they reach us," Lexa said, "we have no cover and too many sick. We cannot afford to fight here." A shout went up amongst the crowd behind them. Others were noticing the torches.
"We have to go out and fight them?" Bellamy interpreted, "you mean a distraction?"
Lexa seemed to form an idea as Bellamy spoke, "Yes. Let them think they have discovered us, while our people run for Maun-de."
"We have warriors in the mountain, they will be fresh and ready to fight," Indra said.
"We can't spare anyone to ride to get them," Lexa said, "I must meet Azgeda in battle."
"Heda you can't," Indra said. Her tone surprised Bellamy. It sounded like she was actually worried for Lexa's life—and not in the general 'battles are dangerous' but as if this particular battle was especially risky for Lexa.
Then he remembered Lexa's hand.
"You can barely draw your sword," Bellamy said, "your hand, it's too damaged. You can't even shoot an arrow. You're a better rider than I am, and your warriors will respond to you best. You have to ride ahead."
The idea of sending Lexa, alone, into Mt Weather while he rode to fight an army terrified Bellamy. She could lock them out easily and they would all die.
"No," Lexa snapped, "I can still fight. They must see Heda in battle."
"I can't let you die!" Bellamy shouted, and at least that was true, "you're too important. We'll hold them off while the wagons get through, and you bring your warriors back to hit them from behind. Our guns will keep them at a distance for now."
"You ride to Maun-de," Lexa insisted, "warriors are needed here."
"No, we need someone who can fight without a gun in case you run into anyone. And we need someone fast—you know the way. You have to go now," Bellamy insisted.
"Wangona may be right," Indra said quietly, "we must rely on gona kom Skaikru. For the children."
The children? There were more than just Tara's sister? At the back of the caravan Bellamy hadn't seen any grounder children. He hadn't really been paying any attention on his ride to the front either. His stomach churned.
"Would Azgeda kill children?" he asked, fearing the answer.
"Anyone affiliated with me," Lexa said calmly. She breathed out heavily and turned to Indra, "stay strong. Wait for my return," and then she turned back to him, "Bellamy, be safe. Don't be reckless. And," she paused a moment, "kill as many as you can."
She took her sword back from him and didn't bother to sheathe it. One shouted command and her horse thundered into the darkness.
"We need someone to keep guiding the caravan," Bellamy said, "who knows these woods?"
"All Trikru," Indra replied, "we know our home."
"Make sure someone's leading, and then gather whatever fighters you have," Bellamy said, "and then meet me."
"Yes, Wangona," Indra said. He'd never seen her defer to someone who wasn't Lexa and it caught him off guard a moment. The torches were getting closer. Bellamy turned his horse and raced back down the line.
"Skaikru!" he shouted before he knew what he was saying. His people didn't have a name for themselves, at least one that was helpful to shout into the dark, "guards! Guns at the ready, with me!"
Adrenaline was coursing through Bellamy's veins. His heart was hammering with fear. There was an answering shout from the guards, a rush of pre-battle energy. Bellamy rode right for the sick wagon.
"What's going on?" Abby asked. She had Raven and Clarke tucked under each arm. They both still looked pale and sickly. Kane was beside them with Monty sleeping on his shoulder and two little girls that weren't sick but likely exhausted from walking, in his lap.
"Is it Azgeda?" Lincoln asked.
"Yeah," Bellamy confirmed, "I'm taking a force out to meet them and draw them away from the wagons. You'll be continuing to Mt Weather and you can't stop for anything."
"Where's Lexa?" Clarke asked.
"She's rushing to Mt Weather to get her warriors there," Bellamy said, "I told her to go."
"You what?" Clarke shouted. Her eyes widened as she realized her outburst. Bellamy was sure she'd been about to read off a list of incredibly nasty insults at him.
"She's the fastest rider we have," Bellamy said, "it was the best call."
"I hope you're right," Clarke said darkly.
"Kane, I need you with me," Bellamy said, "Lincoln will you stay?"
Lincoln pulled an arrow from his small quill, "I will protect them."
Bellamy swallowed nervously. Kane was disengaging himself from a sleepy Monty. The little girls started protesting about being cold and Monty and Clarke tucked them in between them.
"And Octavia?" Bellamy questioned.
Abby shook her head, "she's still quiet. No movement."
"She will be safe in the mountain," Lincoln insisted.
Bellamy let out a slow breath. He was going into battle. It could go wrong in so many ways. He looked up to meet Lincoln's eyes, "Take care of her," he said. In case I don't make it, went unsaid, but Lincoln nodded his agreement.
The rest of the guard rushed to join him and Kane as the caravan continued into the dark.
"We don't know how many there are," Bellamy explained quickly, "but we need to hit them away from here, to buy everyone else time to make it into the mountain. Lexa is riding ahead to get reinforcements, but it's up to us to hold them off."
"As soon as they put out those torches we won't know where they are," Kane said.
"So conserve your bullets. Our goal is to be a deterrent until Lexa arrives, then we run like hell," Bellamy admitted, "but until then, we hold our ground."
Indra joined them. She had nearly a dozen warriors. Way too few. What had happened to the huge army that Lexa commanded? Had that only been for show? Some of the warriors with Indra looked too small to be holding weapons or going into battle. Bellamy swallowed his fear.
"We should meet them in a line," Indra said, "let them think there are more of us than them. If you use your faygon it may make them nervous."
Bellamy nodded, "I don't know how to fight in the open like this," he admitted.
Indra nodded sagely, as if she'd expected it, "Tell your troops to follow my lead then."
Bellamy glanced around and, while nervous, every single guard nodded respectfully.
"Ambush will be our friend," Indra said, "Skaikru will form groups, a Trikru guide to each. Lead them silently—as silent as a splita can be in our woods," all the grounders laughed. Bellamy didn't know the word but figured it was a harmless insult.
"Wangona," Indra said, "with me. I will protect you for Heda."
"Do I really need protecting?" Bellamy whispered, "I thought your people valued warriors who could take care of themselves." He was following in Indra's footsteps, which was nearly impossible in the darkness. Miller and Huxley were with him. All three of them had guns, and Huxley kept slipping on exposed roots and rocks in the snow.
"We do," Indra replied coyly, "once you are a warrior you will not need a nonomon ."
"I can handle myself," Bellamy muttered.
Indra hummed, apparently amused even as they were walking towards a nearly unwinnable fight, "I saw you swinging the sword," she glanced back over her shoulder and he could see the glint of moonlight in her eyes, "Trikru are born with more skill than you showed."
He'd thought it was dark enough that no one else would see that. When they'd first landed on earth, back at the dropship, a rumor had gone around that grounders could see in the dark. Sometimes Bellamy wondered if that were true.
"Is Azgeda as bad as everyone says?" Bellamy asked.
Indra huffed, "They dedicate their lives to warfare. If you cannot battle, then you are exiled, or killed. They are nowhere near as tolerant or gentle as Trikru."
Tolerant and gentle were the last things Bellamy would describe any of the grounders he'd met. For Indra to think herself nice in comparison to Azgeda?
"We're screwed," Bellamy said to himself.
The Azgeda warriors had extinguished their torches, hence the need for sneaking. There was real worry that the two forces could literally run into one another, and whoever drew their weapon first would start a fight. Bellamy hoped that guns were going to be a good deterrent.
Indra stopped them after nearly twenty minutes of creeping through the snow. Bellamy couldn't see any of the other groups, but Indra made a hoo-hoo noise that genuinely sounded like an owl. After a few minutes they heard responding hoo-hoo's that meant the other groups were in position.
"Azgeda! You are unwelcome!" Indra roared.
"Chon chich op Indra? Em otaim gada badannes in gon Heda, ba Heda ste kwelen."
Bellamy looked over at Indra. He didn't know what they were saying.
"Ice Queen?" he mouthed.
Indra shook her head, "If she were here, we would know. Now set daun, wait for my signal," Indra hissed, waving to the ground. Bellamy, Miller and Huxley figured out what that meant pretty quickly and crouched low. Indra jumped up and scaled the tree above their heads with little effort or sound.
"Holy shit," Miller breathed, "no wonder they kept hitting us from above."
"Azgedaled kongeda-de op!!" Indra shouted above them, "Yo don veid osir geda kom Trigedakru op! Yon kodon laik wamplei!"
The familiar sound of arrows. Fwip fwip. Bellamy waited to hear Indra fall, but it never came.
"Fousen Trikrulaik kom osir! Noumou natrona laik hir!"
Indra, in a different tree. When had she had the time to move? Why hadn't any of them heard her leap around? "Osir laik fousen badannes gona gon Heda! Du na put daun op kos natrona!"
Fwip fwip.
"Duhukop kom Kwelheda! Yu na gon op osir kom taim kwelness kom Kwelheda ste kot op kom heda keryon"
Bellamy had no idea what they were talking about, but he was getting an idea where the enemy was. He knew heda, at least. They were talking about Lexa. And their talking was pointing out their location to him.
Indra was in a tree to their right now. How fast could she move up there? "If you want to kill Heda you will have to fight death itself! Belomi!"
Bellamy still couldn't see into the dark, but he had a pretty good idea about the spots the voices were coming from. He leapt from his crouch, took aim and fired into the dark. The gunshots were so loud, echoing down the line of armed Arc guardsmen they had spread out, that the sound of them might have toppled trees. The forest went deathly still, like it was holding its breath. Bellamy had thought it was silent before, but he'd never heard silence quite like this. For a moment he might have almost believed that they'd killed the Azgeda warriors.
"Wanheda en Wangona glong op Kwelheda!"
Indra, again, "Wangona!"
Bellamy fired another round into the darkness. The recoil on the gun felt brutal in the cold night. His fingers were stiff and felt slow to movement. How long had it been since Lexa went for reinforcements? Would she come back? Had the caravan made it to Mt Weather? Sometimes Bellamy longed for the simplicity of being a janitor. Peoples' lives didn't depend on his decisions, didn't hinge on him being able to outthink the enemy.
"The true Heda will make peace kom Skaikru if they do not enter Maun-de!" a man's voice, in heavy, accented English. Maun-de, Bellamy knew that word. That's what Lexa called Mt Weather.
"Azgeda knows no peace!" Indra shouted back, in English, "Azplona will kill anyone who does not submit!"
"Kofosir op Kwelheda en fousen Heda hofli teik oso kik raun," a woman—Bellamy wasn't sure if it was the same from before—shouted. So they were back to Trigedasleng again.
The Ice Nation wanted to keep the Arc people out of Mt Weather. There was justification there, Bellamy figured, but when their decision was to attack first and make peace later, he was less inclined to listen to them. Why were they bothering to talk anyways? If this really was a small scouting party of Ice Nation warriors they stood no chance at actually winning any fight. At worse all they should be able to do would be to delay the caravan until their backup arrived.
Lexa had spoken about multiple routes that could be taken to get to Mt Weather. They were taking a route meant for people with wagons and to be gentle on those walking. But there would be paths that smaller groups could use, ones who weren't limited by weaker people travelling with him.
What had Indra said? That all of Trikru knew their territory. And the Azgeda scouts had said something about Trikru.
Further—Bellamy felt his stomach turning in knots—why had they lit torches? If they were trying to move undetected why would they light torches that could be seen for miles? Unless they wanted to be seen. They might already know that Lexa had warriors in Mt Weather, and if Bellamy and his people were with her and they had guns…
Grounders, one-on-one, were no match for bullets. They knew this. They'd been dealing with Mt Weather for years. They weren't trying to attack the caravan or delay them to wait for reinforcements.
This was a trap.
"Shit," Bellamy hissed, "shit, shit, shit!"
The Azgeda reinforcements were already here. They'd known that Lexa had taken them to the river—Bellamy had advertised their position so clearly with a single gunshot. As a fighting unit they'd moved faster than the caravan, and they'd known Lexa would try to meet an armed force head-on, leaving the caravan open for attack and undefended.
"Bellamy, what are you—" Miller started, but then was cut off by howling. And screaming.
"The wolves!" Huxley shouted.
Fwip fwip.
Bellamy dove for the ground as the scouts locked on their location. Huxley wasn't so lucky. The arrows shot just past Miller's face and hit Huxley. He dropped with a shout.
Bellamy rolled behind a tree as Miller and Huxley moved for cover in the opposite direction.
"It's a trap! They're attacking the others!" he shouted.
Indra landed on the ground beside him and Bellamy nearly leapt out of his skin.
"We have to get out of here," Bellamy said.
"Run," Indra hissed, "not in straight lines. Between the trees."
"But the scouts," Bellamy gestured behind the trees.
"Are just scouts. The real enemy is behind us!" Indra said, "I will buy you time. Hurry!"
"Huxley's hurt!" Miller shouted.
"Can he shoot?" Bellamy demanded.
"I can't run," Huxley whimpered, "but I'll kill any grounder that comes my way."
"With me, then," Indra said gravely.
The wolves weren't nearby, they were attacking the caravan. The forest was alive with snarling and screaming. There were shouts and gunfire from the few guards that had stayed behind.
"Fall back!" Bellamy ordered, "shoot to kill!"
Octavia was there. In the sick wagon. The wolves had come for her before, and now Bellamy wasn't there to protect her. He ran for her life, slipping and skidding in the snow as he weaved through the trees. Arrows flew over his head, but he didn't slow down.
It had taken them a long time to get into position to meet the scouts, and it felt like it took longer to run back to the caravan. Bellamy burst from the trees into the middle of the battle. It looked like the groups—Lexa's and his—had fallen back on one another. Grounders and Arc people were standing together to fight off Azgeda warriors and the wolves that were running through the crowd and dragging unarmed people to the ground with sharp teeth. There weren't enough Azgeda warriors to constitute an army, but they were all armed and powerful warriors, while so many of the people travelling with him were sick, elderly or otherwise unable to fight.
Bellamy slid to a stop, and took aim before he could catch his breath.
He was able to clip two archers on the edge of the fight, taking one down with a shot to the chest and the other he hit in the arm. The rest of the warriors were too close to his people. He couldn't get a clear shot.
The gunfire alerted the Azgeda warriors to his presence and several near him turned to face him. Bellamy summoned all the courage he could muster and raised his gun. Three of them ran at him.
One stumbled and hit the ground—the one Bellamy had shot in the arm. There was an arrow in his back! Clarke was standing up in the sick wagon, wrapped in Lexa's cloak and looking like she was some sort of animal, firing arrows at the attacking warriors around her. Bellamy tried to look for Lincoln, or even Octavia amongst those in the wagon, but then the grounders were on him.
He parried the swing of a sword with his gun, and twisted to avoid the dagger slash aimed at his gut. This close to his people Bellamy couldn't risk any stray bullets. He tried to get his footing again, from dodging the dagger, but he slipped in the snow. He hit the ground hard. The grounder with the sword reared back for another swing. Facing straight up, Bellamy lifted his gun and shot the man in the throat. Blood sprayed out, steaming in the snow.
The second grounder, the one with the dagger, kicked Bellamy's gun out of his hand. He dropped to his knees over Bellamy's waist, raising his dagger for a strike. Bellamy had nothing but his old guard training to fall back on, and punched up, hand open, to strike the grounder in the nose with the heel of his palm. Cartilage cracked and the grounder reared back in pain, giving Bellamy enough time to grab the grounders arm holding the dagger, draw it close, and bite hard into his wrist. Blood, sickeningly hot, poured into Bellamy's mouth and down his chin and he didn't dare let go until he'd done some serious damage. A grounder with two working hands was going to have an advantage over Bellamy, especially since he couldn't remember the last time he'd had a full meal.
The dagger dropped, hitting the snow and Bellamy lost track of it when the grounder punched him in the temple. His stomach lurched dangerously and only then did he remember he was concussed and probably shouldn't be taking hits to the head. The grounder rolled off of him, Bellamy rolled the other way and scrambled to his feet, grabbing cold metal as he stood up. He made eye contact with the grounder and spat out the chunk of flesh in his mouth.
The weapon Bellamy had grabbed wasn't his gun after all, but the sword from the other grounder he'd just killed. The grounder facing him hissed, barring his teeth in that feral grounder way, and drew his own sword with his good hand. Bellamy had held a sword a total of two times in his life: once when Octavia made him hold hers so she could crawl into a narrow space that the rabbit they were hunting had run into, and the other time being just a little while earlier with Lexa's sword. It was an understatement to say that Bellamy had absolutely no idea what he was doing with a sword.
He didn't have time to think. The grounder rushed him with a battle cry, swinging the sword down. Bellamy parried with the blade, like he'd done before with his gun, and narrowly avoided cutting his own fingers off. He made a desperate stab at the grounder but missed.
The snow was hard to move in—it was wet and icy and hid the uneven terrain underneath. Bellamy had to keep half a mind on not slipping again, which was difficult when he was actively trying to not get killed. The darkness of night was overwhelming, even with the flashes of gunfire and the pale moonlight to illuminate the battlefield.
His head was pounding and his lungs were burning with exertion. His arms were numb from the vibrations of impact of the swords.
"This is the mighty Wangona?" the grounder hissed, "is there any truth to the stories about you?"
"I've killed hundreds," Bellamy snapped, trying to sound brave but he just sounded desperate to himself, "you should run while you have the chance."
"Hundreds," the grounder laughed, like he couldn't believe it, "I will take this power from you!"
Bellamy braced as the grounder rushed, and he blocked the sword but wasn't prepared when the grounder head-butted him over the blades. Instantly the world pitched around him and he hit the ground, still unsure of which way was up. He couldn't get a grasp on his limbs, just like back on the ice when he couldn't get his bearings. He managed to focus his eyes to see the grounder's knee hit him in the face. He was knocked backwards into the snow. There was blood on his face—his own blood. It was so warm in contrast to the cold snow.
Get up! He yelled at himself. If he didn't get up he would die. Who would take care of Octavia?
"Wangona uf ain," the grounder hissed. He stalked towards Bellamy, holding his sword by the hilt so it was pointing downwards. Bellamy could see it clearly in his head. The grounder was going to stab him, using his own body weight to force the blow since his one arm wouldn't be enough to kill with a swinging strike. A stab wound would be more painful to die by.
Despite knowing all this, he still couldn't get his limbs to cooperate. He felt like he was in zero-g, free-floating with nothing to anchor himself to or propel off of. The best Bellamy could do was to watch the grounder raise the sword above him and stare down the sharp tip of metal.
A horn interrupted them. It reverberated down through Bellamy's ribs. He thought the whole forest was shaking. He knew the sound.
"Faya wan!" The call was echoed through all of the Azgeda forces.
Bellamy had a pretty good guess as to what they were saying. The horn was the alert for acid fog. His stomach dropped. Lexa must have made it to Mt Weather by now. Had they somehow figured out how to make the fog? Was she going to burn her people alive, just to kill everyone from the Arc?
No, that shouldn't be possible. Bellamy had seen to it that the control room for the fog was destroyed. The grounders wouldn't be able to repair it.
They also weren't supposed to know how to use explosives, and yet they'd taken out a bridge.
Bellamy's would-be killer recovered from his shock at the horn.
"You'd better run," Bellamy snapped. He was lying flat on his back in no position to threaten anyone.
"Azgeda does not fear death," the grounder snarled, spitting blood from his broken nose. He readjusted his grip and lifted his sword. Bellamy braced for the blow.
Another horn blew, so close it deafened Bellamy. A battle cry, and then cheering, from across the way on the other side of the battle. Bellamy realized he could distinctly feel and move his fingers. More grounders had arrived to the battle, were they Azgeda?
Another cheer went up from Lexa's grounders.
"Heda! Heda!"
"Kwelheda!" the grounder roared, forgetting about Bellamy again. His shout was echoed by other Azgeda warriors.
"Frag op Kwelheda!" Azgeda shouted.
"Heda! Heda!" Lexa's grounders chanted back. The world was about as steady as it was going to be for Bellamy, and he took the opportunity presented to him. He twisted on his hip and kicked out, catching the grounder in the knee. It wasn't enough to do much damage, but it knocked the grounder on his ass. Bellamy scrambled to his feet and ran for the battle. If Lexa and her warriors were here, it might be the safest place for him. He misjudged his recovery and his legs turned to rubber under him and he fell face-first into the snow.
He lifted his head and tried to keep crawling. Staying low to the ground helped his balance. He could see Clarke shouting and pointing towards him. She was talking to someone, but he couldn't make out the words. She didn't have any arrows left.
The grounder dropped onto Bellamy with his knee in the middle of Bellamy's back and his sword pierced Bellamy's shoulder. Bellamy screamed.
"I will bring your head to Azplana," the grounder said.
Bellamy stared forwards. Clarke was still gesturing madly. Where was Octavia? He needed to be sure she was safe. Lincoln would take care of her. He promised to look after her.
Because he was looking ahead, he saw the crowd part as Lexa's monstrous horse thundered towards them. It was frothing white at the mouth; otherwise it looked like a piece of starless sky that Lexa had bent to her will. Lexa's hair streamed behind her, and she'd painted her face black with her own blood. Her sword gleamed dangerously in the moonlight.
"Kwelheda!" The grounder on his back hissed, and yanked the sword out of Bellamy. Bellamy curled to cradle the wound. The cold snow felt like a balm on his injured face. The grounder stood up, pounded his chest with his injured hand and lunged at Lexa. Horse hooves passed within inches of Bellamy's face, and Lexa took off the grounders head with one swing.
"Azgeda ste taik daun! Ron we fou oyun medo flaim daun! Tel op Azplana fousen-de Heda nou teik in natrona! Ai na frag op en sad klin gon op Heda" Lexa roared, standing up in her saddle. She was clutching her injured hand tight to her stomach and directing her horse with her knees. That meant she'd cut off a man's head with her weaker hand. Once again, Bellamy realized that his fiancé was much more formidable than she appeared.
The roar of the other warriors Lexa had brought with her from the mountain filled the air. The Azgeda warriors, one by one, began to flee. Kane led a charge to follow them into the woods to ensure they left.
"Bellamy," Lexa shouted, moving her horse closer. Bellamy could barely see her in the dark. She towered above him on her horse. He pushed himself to his knees and looked up at her dumbly.
"Get up," Lexa ordered.
For the life of him, Bellamy couldn't find an argument to the order. He wasn't having much fun being cold and wet in the snow. So he clutched tightly to his injured shoulder and pushed himself to his feet. Instantly the world lurched and he staggered, knees weak, and caught himself against the horse. He doubled over and threw up, every movement jolted all of his injuries and made him even dizzier. The horse didn't flinch. It might have been a stature except for its heaving breaths that steamed in the cold air.
"We must hurry," Lexa insisted, "they will realize the horn is a distraction." Someone blew the horn for the acid fog again. It rattled the trees and made Bellamy's teeth ache.
"My head," Bellamy whined. It was so hard to stay upright. He let go of his shoulder to clutch at Lexa's saddle to keep himself standing, "my sister," he whimpered. He needed to see Octavia.
"Give me your hand," Lexa instructed. This time Bellamy felt an urge to argue with her. She wasn't the boss of him. In fact, she was practically the enemy as well. But the world was still spinning. He wasn't going to get anywhere like this. He closed his eyes tight to keep from getting sick again and thrust his hand in what he hoped was an upwards direction. Lexa nearly lifted him into the saddle on her own. His shoulder screamed in agony. He was able to get a foot in the stirrup to help hoist himself up and over. He cradled his injured arm close to himself.
"Hold on," Lexa instructed, "we are going to survive."
Bellamy realized belatedly that she meant hold on to her, and she urged her horse forwards before he could balance himself. He grabbed onto Lexa tighter than he intended, using his good arm, and ended up with his face in her hair. She kept her sword in her good hand, and had the reigns for her horse loosely wrapped around her injured wrist to keep them from getting in the way.
"Trikru! Skaikru! To the mountain!" Lexa hollered. A resounding cheer echoed amongst their people.
"But—people are hurt," Bellamy said.
"We don't have time," Lexa insisted, "that was a scouting party from Azgeda. There could be more in the forest. We only drove them off because we took them by surprise. Maun-de is nearly abandoned right now. The dead are gone, and we must keep the living alive. Mafta op ai, Belomi." The last was said quietly, to him, before Lexa raised her sword and shouted proudly, drawing a responding cry from their people who followed her.
She turned her horse with her knees and raced into the night. They nearly trampled a wolf that had been trying to feast on one of the bodies lying in the snow. Bellamy didn't know if it was one of theirs or one of their attackers. They were moving so fast it was making him nauseous all over again, so he pressed the un-injured side of his face into Lexa's shoulder and tried to endure.
There were lights flashing in his eyes, and he couldn't tell if it was the concussion or the torches of the Azgeda army coming back to kill them all.
I did this, Bellamy thought to himself. One bullet was all it took to get him to earth to save Octavia, kill 300 people in a culling, and threaten the lives of everyone else on the Arc. One bullet was all it took for him to kill the rest of them, down on the ground. If he hadn't fired that bullet then Azgeda wouldn't have been able to find them until they were safe.
The dead were gone because of him. He really did deserve the title Wangona.
Translations:
Sekenomon – Abby's nickname amongst the grounders for her ability to bring the dead back to life (which isn't accurate, but she has the advanced medical knowledge they lack). It literally means 'Second Mother'.
Nomon—mother.
Maun-de—literally 'The Mountain'. It's what the grounders call Mt Weather.
Gona kom Skaikru—literally 'warriors of Skaikru'.
Faygon—gun
Splita—outsider
Nonomon—combo of 'noda' (another) and 'nomon' (mother), literally meaning 'another mother'. It essentially translates to 'babysitter'. There were plenty of ways to put this 'idea' together in trig but I went for this one because it's fun to say, haha.
**You are free to translate the conversation Indra has with the Azgeda scouts, which I strongly encourage (it's fun!). But for Plot Reasons I won't be providing a translation (: (Plot Reasons being that Bellamy doesn't know Trig, which means that he doesn't know what people are talking about around him, lmao. But also... real plot. Hint hint.)
Wangona uf ai—'Wangona's [strength] will be mine'. My grounders still believe that killing someone means you get their strengths and powers as well. (Which puts targets on Clarke and Bellamy's backs, yikes!)
Faya wan—literally 'fire wind'. There's no official Trig term for Acid Fog, so I made up my own.
Azplana—Ice Queen. Azgeda, which looks way too similar, means Ice Nation, but like the show, I find 'Azgedakru' to be a mouthful, so people from the Ice Nation collectively are also called Azgeda.
**Again, feel free to translate yourself! Lexa's being pretty badass!
Mafta op ai, Belomi—'Follow my lead, Bellamy'. Just in case you'd forgotten their catch-phrase after all this time (:
And that's it for this chapter! Thanks to all of you for reading. I can't promise when the next chapter will be posted, but hopefully I'll see all of you once it's online :)
What did you think of this chapter? Will they ever make it to Mt Weather? Are they all even going to survive? Lexa might be the only one to make it barely in one piece, and she broke her hand to save Clarke (and Raven). I loved writing Bellamy fighting because his method of fighting is 'shoot them and then panic if that doesn't work' lmao. But then I gotta ask—why are the Arc people so good with guns. Why were they trained for guns on a space station. I'm no astronaut but I can safely say that guns on spaceships are A) a limited resource and B) REALLY DUMB TO HAVE. Anyways, that's why Bellamy's guard training is actually hand-to-hand combat, as I mentioned in one of his fights. They can fight one-on-one, but aren't really prepared for weapons since there weren't a lot of those on the Arc either.
Someone help these poor kids. They're going to have to start wedding-planning soon.
See ya next time!