Day 145 – Feb. 4
A heavy sigh falls from the redhead's rosy lips once she and Jasper step through the empty elevator threshold. Jasper instantly moves to the right side with a crudely drawn arrow pointing up etched into the wall, reaching across to the centre of the back wall to flip the small lever that clamps down the brake. Planting his glove-clad hands on top of the rusted lever he stands in front of, Jasper cranks it down and the whole elevator jolts up in the narrow shaft. One of Myles' glove-clad hands finds the cylindrical chain reel that's connected to the hoist along the back wall and twists the short handle to follow the circular shape of the reel.
When Jasper cranks the lever, the elevator lifts a foot, and Myles spins the handle to keep the loose chain wrapped around the reel so it doesn't get caught. It's a simple design, a manual pulley system to use the elevator that survived with the building after the war 197 years ago. This building is by far the tallest structure to have survived the bombs, standing at forty-two different floors, most above but some below ground. The travel up will be long and tiring, seeing as the warriors who usually shift the elevator are not here, but that's the least of Myles' worries right now.
Today at sundown, a peace summit is being held on the very top floor, where Lexa's throne room is. Ambassadors from all twelve clans will come together to discuss a peace treaty with representatives from Arkadia. Marcus Kane is very prepared, having been planning this for the past three months, it's a great relief for him to finally be able to sit down and discuss his visions for the unity of their people. The man has been able to see, especially with Jasper and Myles' close working relationship with the grounders, that peaceful unity isn't just an option, but it has great potential to be a reality.
"Stop fiddling with them," Jasper warns, yanking the lever down again and jolting them up. Hazel eyes glide over to him, her slender fingers still feeling her earrings. "They'll get infected. Again."
"At least there's proper earrings in there now," the redhead grumbles, following each wrenching of the lever with a twirl of the reels handle.
"Thank god for that," her best friend agrees. "The other ones were terrible."
Myles snaps her head in his direction, her eyes widening and her hand dropping from her ear, "they were not!"
"None of them matched," Jasper reasons, a lighthearted smile hinting across his face as he huffs with each crank of the lever. "You didn't have two pairs of earrings. You had four different ones."
"They weren't that bad!" Myles argues, her tone raising in pitch.
"Yes, they were," the brown-haired teen snickers, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "I cannot believe you're keeping them pierced."
"This is not being supportive," the red-haired teen jibes through a giggle, "you're just jealous I'm the one with all the jewellery."
"We do everything together," Jasper protests halfheartedly, shoving the handle down and huffing. "We're switching."
Myles snorts loudly, her playful smile still covering her features, "Okay." Taking his spot by the lever, the redhead has to use her whole body weight to fully swing the lever down. "I didn't know… you wanted to get your… ears pierced."
"I don't," her best friend disputes, spinning the handle of the reel. "We've split up more in the last two weeks than we have in the last three months, and both times you've done things without me. It's rude."
"You should've…," Myles starts, quirking her eyebrow up as a serious look overtakes her face. "Stayed with me then."
"I couldn't," Jasper explains, all trace of mischief leaving his tone. "It would've been intimidating all three of us trying to nose around."
"I know," the redhead huffs dramatically, shooting a pointed look at her best friend.
The look makes his whole body go rigid, and his hand on the handle stops halfway around the chain reel. Ray staying with them has been great, but they're both starting to crack under the invisible pressure that's come from having him around all the time. It's suffocating, in a way, adding someone who doesn't share their experiences, mindsets or thinking processes that have come from figuring out Earth and the grounders. Both teens have been tiptoeing around each other, having had to rehash past events and allow Ray to properly process them has provided a minor setback for the two teens, leaving both feeling like they can't be themselves in their own home.
"What?" Jasper questions, his face blank but his tone serious and Myles' hazel eyes jut to the side, waiting for something else to happen or be said.
"What do you mean, what?" Myles counters, matching his tone and furrowing her red eyebrows in confusion.
She can't do anything until he finishes winding up the loose chunk of chain, and he's too busy pinning her with a vacant look to continue in his actions.
"What?" Jasper repeats, as if that answers his best friend's question. "You know what I mean; what?"
"What, what?" Myles quizzes, her voice slow and drawled out in confusion, tilting her head to the side slightly.
"What about my dad is intimidating?" The brown-haired teen enquires, "he's like a big puppy. Max the second."
"Technically," the red-haired teen deflects, "he'd be Max the first. Because he was first."
"Oh, my god," Jasper gasps, taking his hand off of the handle of the reel to point at Myles. "You think dad is intimidating."
"I," Myles reassures in a high-pitched voice, "I love Uncle Ray. He's great, more… more than great, he's fantastic." Jasper squints his brown eyes at her when she doesn't continue straight away. The look is heavy, and the redhead feels her resolve crack under its weight. "I'm afraid to sleep because he keeps trying to 'fix' things around the house. I still don't even know what he did to the drop-down pulley. Or how he fucked up the gravity-shower when he was trying to make the heating coil hotter."
The water isn't a big concern to either of them; all of the Arkers are fully capable and fine with boiling a bucket of water and using that. It's more of the principle. Countless nights spent awake, using anything and everything that they could remember from books or teachers on the ark and an excruciatingly long course of trial and error to get to where they are now. Both problems Myles has listed are probably easily fixable, and if not, at least now both teens know how to make one from scratch, but they're busy, and it's the principle of it.
Life after Arkadia and Mount Weather hasn't been spent sitting around and doing nothing. The first few weeks were about trying to just live, trying to want to live. Throwing themselves into job after job to give them something to take their minds off of their troubles. Now, days and nights where they struggle to be present and functioning after all that's happened are still a weekly occurrence, if not more, but slowly it's been replaced with running around for the different clans. It's been spent less at home and fiddling with whatever they can get their hands on to make it useful, and more scavenging for supplies for the clans and doing jobs.
Sometimes they can get a break, but when they do, they use it to get their ducks in a row for their next supply hunt or job. Mapping instead of sleeping, practicing and memorising knowledge of clans dialects and their cultures, reading book after book that they can find so they can do more, be more, help more.
Marcus has been reprimanding the two of them for months about how unhealthily they are trying to keep themselves afloat. It had started for Myles with submerging herself in work and supply hunts to keep herself from being focussed on the fact that she was drowning, and when Jasper joined her, it had changed completely. Ever since then, the two of them have been highly reliant on each other to an abnormal degree. Eating the same things at the same time, drinking the same things at the same time, doing everything together, to the point where they're beginning to mould into one person, instead of two.
When Myles had been with Roan, playing along to find out who had offered him enough to make him want to deliver her instead of taking her 'power' for himself, Jasper hadn't eaten a thing. He hadn't even felt inclined to, because Myles wasn't eating with him. This ledge, this wire, that Myles constantly balances on, waiting for a gust of wind to knock her off now has Jasper's weight to it as well. Neither try to cross the wire to the other side, to step away from the ledge, instead they copy each other's movements and stick to one another as if that's all they need to keep their heads above water.
And it's worked so far. Days where Myles can't stop Mount Weather from bleeding over reality have become fewer, and now she has someone who knows what's happening and knows how to handle her when she's stuck to help pull her out. Days where Jasper is so consumed with grief and loneliness that he forgets what it's like to not feel so smothered with despair have become less and less frequent. Now he has someone who's so familiar with that deep pit of pain that she knows how to share the burden and get him to remember something that's not all darkness. Nights where she and Jasper scream until their throats are raw at traumatising memories, or stare at the ceiling and cry their eyes out, they still happen regularly, but now they can sense it. They can feel it coming, whether for themselves or the other, and now they both have each other to sit with through the storm so they don't get completely shipwrecked with no lifeboats.
"He did try to clean our mini-bridge," Jasper relents, spinning the handle of the reel, "and left those awful cloudy marks all over the wood. What the hell even does that?"
"I think he used that…" Myles brushes off, throwing the lever down, "half-mixed abomination… of bleach that didn't go right. And… it's a whole ass bridge."
Jasper snorts, "it's a skinny, half bridge to get from tree to tree because you were too paranoid to have the 'front door' be anywhere near the house."
"Respect the bridge," the red-haired teen counters. "Love the bridge… the bridge keeps us safe."
"Oh, god," her best friend cringes loudly, and it's the only point during this journey up that Myles takes into account the fact that there's no elevator door.
A red eyebrow quirks up and her hazel eyes turn to the opening allowing her to see onto one of the floors they're between. Her gaze meets the annoyed eyes of a female warrior, and Myles quirks her other eyebrow up as she glares right back at the woman.
"Dad was on the other side of the door for the third night in a row last night," Jasper tells her, and Myles cranks the lever down, finally tearing her searing hazel gaze away from the now-disappearing warrior. "While I was having a bucket shower, and he went on this big, long lecture on how we're handling things with the grounders at a 'perilous pace'. Said that rushing into things half cocked and winging it scares him, and he's worried our 'in tuned-ness' will be 'detrimental to our future paths'."
"What the fuck…" the redhead inquires, her eyebrows falling down low, "does that mean?"
"I think he meant with Bellamy," her best friend theorises, "and other… Maya's. He kept pushing about the Monty thing and trying to do things I don't feel ready to do because it's healthier."
"What?" Myles exclaims, and it's her that stops the movement that allows them to escalate this time. "This happened three nights in a row? Why am I only hearing about it now? Sis's before misters!"
"I was trying to repress it," Jasper explains in a dull, lifeless tone, "thanks for reminding me."
"He loves you," the redhead reminds him blandly, his father's words still echoing in her mind as she cranks the lever again. "He's trying to help."
"Yeah, well," the brown-haired teen replies halfheartedly, "you don't move on by someone telling you to move on, and you don't get ready to face your demons by someone telling you to just be ready. No matter how much they love you."
"If he thinks I'm dragging you down," Myles starts, halting in her pulling of the lever to glance over at Jasper fleetingly. "Maybe we're both too close to see it."
"You're not dragging me down," Jasper asserts, his tone confident. "You're the only one who dragged me up, instead of just expecting me to be alright."
"I don't know," the redhead sighs. "I hope so. I don't think I could handle doing something else wrong, especially to you."
"You're not," her best friend assures, and Myles throws down the lever. "If I wasn't happy, I'd let you know."
"Rodger, dodger," Myles acknowledges, Ray and Marcus' concerns still bouncing around in her mind.
Their conversation becomes lighthearted again, and it's only a few minutes more before they're at the very top floor. Myles cranks the lever down, and the elevator jolts up, allowing a small sliver of a warrior's fur-covered boots to be seen. At their arrival, the man ducks down to peer through the elevator and speak to the two of them. He's a familiar face, a warrior they've come into contact with quite a bit in Polis.
"Hei," Osco greets with a small nod, "Heda gaf yo in hit em op ona lou wogeda." [AN: "Hey. The Commander wants you to meet her on the floor below."]
Hazel eyes lock on Jasper's brown, "ou, du os haiheda." [AN: "Oh, good god."]
"Kei," Jasper laughs, walking over to the lever with a down arrow carved into the wall opposite Myles. "Chof, ai lukot. Osir laik kamp raun der." [AN: "Okay. Thanks, my friend. We'll be there."]
"Pro," Osco replies with a smile, standing up straight as Jasper yanks down the lever for them to go down. "Ai na tel Heda op yo's ogud." [AN: "you're welcome. I'll tell The Commander you're ready."]
"This is a travesty," Myles informs Jasper, her red eyebrows high up her forehead.
"It's not that far down, Aggie," he chuckles, shaking his head at his best friend.
"No, I know," the redhead corrects. "Do you know what else I know? She's about to ask us for something. Again."
"Maybe Skaikru aren't here yet," Jasper tries to reason with her, watching her flick the brake before they both walk out of the elevator and onto the floor below the commander's quarters. "And she wants us to go in with them. You know, show that they're under Wanheda's protection."
"Maybe," Myles agrees, walking forward with slow and aimless steps. "But my gut thinks not."
"Your gut's never wrong," Jasper seconds, his eyes doing the same thing Myles' are.
Their bored and aimless gazes scan around the room, taking it all in mindlessly while they wait for the commander. It's not the first time they've been on this level, their wandering actions less to see and more to aide in the passing of time.
A rickety, old chandelier hangs above them, where there were once lightbulbs, there are now candles. The walls separating the hallway where they stand now and some of the rooms around the circular-shaped floor are completely gone. Some only partially stand, and a few still have the walls intact, barring the lack of paint and wallpaper that barely a strip of remains unpeeled. Instead, long, woven blankets of skinned animals and ratty fabric hang over the walls, giving them more than just the framework to look at.
Tables and chairs sit amongst the hallway and litter inside of the rooms that they can see. A couple of them are new, made of new wood or scrap metal, but the others look ancient. The furniture is barely standing, appearing worn and dull, bits and pieces chipped away with age and wear. Mould and splatters of various colours of paint seem to be etched into the wood, staining it in lifeless spots. Whatever fabric or cushioning was on the chairs before the bombs is gone, leaving hand stitched cushions, pillows and throws to make the seats comfortable.
Old picture frames sit spaced out on the walls, faded, almost invisible artwork and photographs worn away. Some are empty, just backless rectangular decaying wooden frames accompanying the banners tucked into the walls visible framework. In one room, a few very low down tables can be seen, one of which has a series of thick blankets over them. They're too low to have been intended for tables or chairs, as they are being used for now. Perhaps they were once beds, and this was once a tower of apartments or hotel rooms.
Footsteps coming down the stairs makes the redhead cease her bored pondering and turn towards the stairwell. Lexa steps down the stairs, meeting both Myles and Jasper's eyes. Her expression is what it usually is, guarded and always hard to decipher, but the ever so slight crease in her forehead being present above her small gold gear tells Myles that she's not happy about something. Slouching and sauntering up to the young woman, Myles comes to a stop beside one of her best friends.
Her hair is mostly down, the top pieces pulled back into several simple braids that rest down the back of her head. Lexa wears her usual getup, the fierce, black, long-sleeved top she wears opens up at her hips, falling over her legs like a long cloak. Fur is stitched onto the fabric, hints of it poking out under the empty weapon straps that cling to her waist. Black tights are worn under the menacing and regal coat, tucked into her tall and heavy worn leather boots. One shoulder has the dense armour she wears in battle, a single shoulder pad with a long, velvety strip of red curtain the length of her long coat raining down from the piece of armour. Thick wrist cuffs with spikes covering them covers both of her wrists, with simple, frayed black fingerless gloves on her hands.
"Myles, Jasper," Lexa greets, her tone monotone and lacking any distinctive emotions. "I am glad you came."
Hazel eyes lock on Jasper's brown fleetingly before responding, "we made a deal."
"Yes, we did," the commander agrees, her words as slow as they usually are. "How is Finn doing?"
"Good," Jasper answers, nodding. "We saw him a few days ago. He's finding it hard to adjust to not having something to do."
"I'm sure he will do just fine," the brown-haired young woman assures, before flicking her brown eyes between the two of them. "I'm afraid I have to ask you to do two things more before our summit."
A red eyebrow quirks up, and Myles stares pointedly at Jasper, saying, "oh, do you now?"
"Yes," the commander confirms, and the redhead looks back at her. "One of the Azgeda delegates is dead, and I fear the recovery job you did in Delphi isn't enough to convince the clans to reach peace."
"Dead?" Jasper questions immediately and red eyebrows furrow, everything they've ever learnt about the grounders beliefs in leadership and 'peace' rushing through Myles' mind. "Is that why there's blood on the path outside of the tower?"
Lexa doesn't answer, she doesn't have to, the 'so?' look on her face and her lack of refusal speaking volumes.
"How did you get him close to the window?" Myles asks, and Jasper swings out his arm to whack her with the back of his hand.
Myles reflexively reciprocates the gesture as Lexa continues, "war is brewing." The commander's hard brown eyes flick between them, "Azgeda is trying to convince the clans that I am unfit to be commander. If they can get all of the clans to vote to remove me, there will never be peace between our people."
"Then forget the peace treaty," the red-haired teen instantly suggests, earning a quick look of bewilderment from her best friend. Lexa tilts her head to show she's interested, "make the summit about establishing a thirteenth clan. Skaikru. They won't get a unanimous vote then."
"My want," Lexa starts, "with the peace treaty has always been for your people to become my people. If they agree to join the Coalition, to become the thirteenth clan, no one would dare to move against them, because they would be moving against me."
"Great," Jasper shrugs. "Are the Skaikru here yet? We'll go tell them the plan's changed."
"They have yet to arrive," the commander states, "but that's not all." Myles quirks an eyebrow impatiently when Lexa merely locks her gaze on her hazel eyes and stays quiet. "Bow before me at the summit," Myles scoffs sarcastically, turning her whole body away. "Someone with your power bowing before the commander will show the clans to respect the Coalition. Bow before me and your people will be safe."
"Bow?" Myles repeats, the word being spat from her mouth as if it tasted bitter on her tongue. "If you wanted the 'power of Wanheda' you should've killed me."
"Aggie," Jasper cautions, and all the redhead does to acknowledge his warning is to look to him briefly.
"Bellamy Blake," the red-haired teen laughs ironically at his name, "is the only person in the universe who can get me on my knees."
Lexa's face brightens, her skin crinkling slightly with an amused smirk, a stark contrast to Jasper's abhorred expression.
"You know," Jasper grouses, his voice strained, "when I told you about the Yujleda girl I slept with on a sack of onions and you said it was too much?"
Myles cringed, scrunching her nose up apologetically, "too much?"
Jasper only nods in reply, bringing a hand up to his face.
"Talk with Marcus," Lexa advises, "but I'm not sure it will be much help without you bowing, and with only one Azgeda delegate."
"Is having only one delegate bad?" Myles enquires, a light going off in her head with an idea. Lexa tilts her head to the side, her eyes alight with the recognition of the redhead's plan face. Hazel eyes swivel to Jasper's brown, watching as the same idea begins to form in his mind. "Because we've got someone who might just be interested."
Descending this amount of stairs used to make both her and Jasper's legs weaken and ache with overuse, but now they barely feel a burn. Three months spent with going up and down these stairs, training and walking around clan lands has given them the ability to build muscle and gain endurance. Sure, if someone else hadn't used the elevator to take it back down before the two Arker's finished talking with Lexa, they probably would've taken it. Apparently, the commander had told her warriors to ensure that the elevator remained on the bottom floor so they could give their new guests a kinder welcome, which they wouldn't have a problem with if it wasn't so far down.
Three sets of footsteps step off of the staircase and onto the level that houses all of the prisoners. None of their determined strides falter or slow, even as they round the corner to approach the guarded prison doors. Hearing them coming, the warriors instantly open the doors for them, and no one slows to explain. Once they're all inside the main room, the warrior that Lexa sent with them splits off, going towards the grounders that maintain the prison to explain what's going on.
Jasper and Myles turn in the opposite direction, heading straight for the door that leads to the rows of cells. Barely a glance at them is needed for the guard to open the door for them, and the two teens break their stoic and silent demeanour to mutter a thanks. Their strides finally slow to a stop several cells down, and Myles leans her shoulder on the metal bars locking the prisoner in his cell.
"If it isn't the Great Wanheda," Prince Roan of Azgeda drawls out, a twinge of curiosity in his voice.
"How is his royal highness doing today?" Myles asks, her tone becoming patronising over his royal title.
Roan stands up and slowly walks over to lean against the bars, his Azgeda clothes stripped from him and replaced with Trikru's typical winter wear. A plain black long-sleeved shirt that's been patched by several different textured and shades of dark fabric with small puffs of fur for warmth. The tan jeans are no better, the material ratty and grossly discoloured. The outfit is nothing suited for the wealthy or those with royal blood, leaving Myles to wonder if the choice of attire was a passive aggressive dig from the guards here. His hair is a mess and hanging down loosely instead of having the top tied back in a half-ponytail like it was when they met, looking greasy and unkempt. Facial hair has grown out, scattered in uneven chunks over the bottom half of his face from not shaving for a week, making the decorative scars over his face seem sporadic rather than symmetrical.
"You ready to go home?" Myles continues when Roan merely stares at her in answer to her first question.
This time, his simmering and impatient stance shifts, his hard expression softening into one of confusion. His shoulders slouch and his whole body goes rigid once again.
"What are you talking about?" Roan quizzes, seeming unsure if he's being messed with.
"She pulled some strings," Jasper informs him, and the man's brown eyes switch to him, trying to decipher if he's being serious.
"I promised I'd do what I can to get you home to your lady," the redhead elaborates, "unfortunately, it's not as simple as letting you walk straight out of here."
Roan straightens, sensing where this is going, "what do I need to do?"
"There's a peace summit being held today," the brown-haired teen supplies, "all you need to do is be there to represent Azgeda."
"Why aren't the delegates going?" The Prince enquires, his tone gruff as his dark brown eyebrows sink in confusion.
"They are," Myles corrects, nodding, "but one has… dropped… dead. Suddenly."
Jasper swings his arm out to whack Myles with the back of his hand at the words, and the red-haired teen reciprocates the slap with an indignant squawk. Roan's brown eyes switch between the two for a moment, his hard gaze not holding the hint of amusement that Lexa's had.
The door to the prison cell room opens and Myles can see the warrior Lexa sent down with them enter with his arms full of Roan's clothes out of the corner of her eyes.
"Look," the redhead sighs, "you don't have to do it. But I don't think you're gonna get a better chance than this. All you have to do is sit there."
"Or stand," Jasper interjects eagerly, "standing is good."
"You don't need to contribute," Myles continues, "all you have to do is be present to show the Coalition hasn't broken."
Roan's eyes jut to the warrior waiting patiently behind the Arker's with his clothes, and he straightens, pushing off of the metal bars. Nodding his head slowly, he locks his eyes back on the two teens.
"Okay," the Prince agrees, "I'll be Azgeda's delegate."
"Good," Jasper praises, and Myles pushes off of the bars to turn away before her best friend adds. "You might wanna freshen up, we're only waiting on the Skaikru leaders."
"Wait," Roan calls when the two turn and the warrior walks up to the cell door. "It's happening now?"
"As soon as Skaikru gets here," Myles answers, shrugging with one shoulder lazily. "Oh, and you, uh, might want to take a shower."
"And by might," the brown-haired teen emphasises, "she means you really should. It's very ripe in here, man."
They've finally made it back up to the top floor again after waiting for Roan to finish getting ready. The man is cleaned up, his hair brushed neatly and tied back in a half-up ponytail. His facial hair has been groomed meticulously, and he's wearing his Azgedian clothes again, looking as if he feels more comfortable in his skin. Everything about him has changed by giving him back his old clothes and letting him groom himself, his posture is straight and his movements certain.
A few metres before the three of them reach the shut throne room door, Osco stops them.
"Jaspa, Maiyls," Osco greets, nodding his head to the left. "Ogeda Skaikru Heda ste hod op ona Heda hoshon. Hainofa Roun na hod op ona haisidon wogeda-de." [AN: "Jasper, Myles, the Sky People leaders are waiting in the Commanders quarters. Prince Roan can wait in the throne room."]
Myles and Jasper's eyes meet, their steps heading in the direction of Lexa's bedroom instead of the throne room.
"Mochof, Osko," Myles replies easily, breezing past him as Roan opens the door to the throne room. [AN: "Thank you, Osco."]
"Chof," Jasper seconds, following his best friend. [AN: "thanks."]
Rounding the corner, the two guards in front of Lexa's room perk up and open the door, "os gon ai yo op. Emo don's hod op." [AN: "Good to see you. They've been waiting."]
As the door swings open, it lets out a high-pitched creak to announce their presence. All three Arkers in the room light up at the sight of them, but only one rushes forward to wrap the two best friends in a tight embrace.
"Aggie! Jasper!" Clarke calls out happily, her soft features nearly blinded by the bright smile on her face.
"Hey," Jasper chuckles, wrapping an arm around the blonde-haired teen.
Her blonde hair is longer than it was three months, coming down to her waist with strands of it twisted back in braids that glow in the warm orange hue that the setting sun casts upon them. The clothes she's wearing look more crisp and new, like they came from Mount Weather, instead of the dull and worn patchwork fabrics that clothes from the Ark looked like. Still, Myles wraps her arms around the blonde and Jasper, allowing herself to smile at her friend's embrace.
"It's good to see you," Myles states, pulling back to look at Clarke before directing her gaze to the man who's been like a father to her. "But we don't have much time."
"What?" Clarke asks, switching into her serious leader mode in the blink of an eye.
"What are you talking about?" Marcus enquires, his brown eyes clouded with concern as he steps closer to rest a hand on Myles' shoulder.
"Lexa's changing the terms of the summit," Jasper quickly explains, "we're no longer here for a peace treaty."
"What does that mean?" Clarke quizzes, her voice overlapping with Abby's 'what?'
"Is this because of Mount Weather?" Marcus questions, his tone low and Myles almost feels guilty.
Realistically, Myles and Jasper both know that it wasn't his idea to move the Farm Station survivors into Mount Weather. In fact, Marcus Kane had tried to stop it. Unfortunately for them, though, he's no longer the Chancellor, Abby is. The two of them have been passing around the Chancellors pin and the responsibilities it comes with since the first day they set foot on the ground. Apparently, it's Abby's turn to fuck up all of the progress Myles and Jasper make.
"Yes," Jasper asserts, his bitter tone overlapping with the redhead's guilty 'kinda'.
"But, look," Myles tries, "it's not Lexa. It's the Ice Nation." The redhead's hazel eyes stay on Marcus' deepening expression, only briefly glancing towards Clarke to make sure she understands the gravity of the situation. She knows from experience that Abby will need more encouragement than the two best friends have time to give her now. "They want Lexa dead, and they want to take control of the Coalition to further their expansionistic and, and militaristic desires."
"That's Lexa's concern," Abby refutes, not grasping the fact that anyone besides Lexa being in control right now would mean that peace would never be a reality. "Not ours."
"Mum," Clarke protests, looking at her mother as if she's appalled by her words. "You're not listening."
"If Lexa falls," Marcus appeals, his focus on Abby and his tone urgent. "The coalition shatters."
"We'd never get peace like this again," Jasper interjects, shifting anxiously. "There's no way we'd avoid another war."
"Abby," the councillor persuades when the look in the doctor's eyes doesn't lighten. "There hasn't been a single attack since Mount Weather, and that's because of the work Aggie and Jasper have done to keep us in everyone's favour. If they say this is a warning we need to heed, we need to listen." Marcus turns his attention back to the two best friends. "You said there were new terms."
"We become the thirteenth clan," Myles advises, knowing before the words are even out of her mouth that the two Griffin's won't like them.
Clarke blanches, her posture stiffening as her mother guffaws. Marcus looks away, stepping to the side while his mind works hard to think through the idea.
"The thirteenth clan," Abby challenges quietly, "what does that mean? That we follow Lexa?"
"To a degree," the brown-haired teen reasons halfheartedly, and Myles turns her gaze to Clarke's blank eyes.
"It's better than a peace treaty," Myles tries to convince the blonde. "She made the deal with the mountain men to free her people. That included Azgeda and every other clan." Clarke's blue eyes become alight with understanding, "we'll be a part of that umbrella of protection, even from other clans."
"No," Abby refutes, her voice hard and unshakable. "We came here to negotiate a treaty."
"Mum," Clarke spins to her mother, "this is our new Unity Day."
Abby blinks in shock at the words, and Myles quickly interjects, "you've only got two options."
"You can be the thirteenth clan," Jasper tacks on, following her train of thought. "Or you can be the thirteenth Station."
It's a low blow, but it's conveniently and scarily applicable. When the bombs destroyed the old world 197 years ago, the only survivors of the war were thought to be the people living on thirteen different Space Stations orbiting the planet. Now they know it's not true, but they didn't back then; back then, they thought they were the very last of the human race.
In order to 'save' the human race, the United States Space Station, what they now know as Alpha Station, organised for all thirteen to dock together, recreating the biblical analogy of Noah's Ark. When the thirteenth Station, Polaris, hesitated, the USSS blew it up, reducing it to smithereens that floated emptily in the uninhabitable atmosphere of space. They did this to demonstrate to the other Stations exactly what was at stake. This is what they celebrate on Unity Day, the uniting of the twelve remaining Stations to save the human race.
And now, 197 years later, they're at almost the same predicament. To avoid a war where the calamities will be greater than anything any of them have ever seen, they'll have to unite again. Dozens of grounders have told the two teens the same stories of the past commanders. No one has ever tried, fought, and succeeded in joining the clans together, only Lexa. If Lexa dies, so does the coalition, and so does peace.
Abby shifts, her features hardening at the words as she turns to the councillor, "Marcus?"
"The kids are right," Marcus confirms, turning back around to face them. "I've seen the Ice Nation army. And we don't stand a chance against them. We need to do this."
"Mum," Clarke urges, "we don't have a choice."
The doctor turns back to the two best friends; her calculating eyes flicking between them for a moment.
"So we become the thirteenth clan," Abby proposes, clearly unhappy with the idea. "Then what?" Jasper tilts his head, glancing at his best friend as her steady hazel eyes lock onto Marcus'. "What's gonna stop the Ice Nation?"
A red eyebrow quirks up, her tone strong and sure, "Wanheda."
Myles' shoes make a loud and distinctive thunk with every step she makes. Her best friend walks by her side, approaching the doors to the throne room to commence the summit. Much like Roan had to get dressed, and Lexa will have had to change into something more… formal, both Arker teens had to as well. The redhead's getup is designed to demonstrate her 'power', and Jasper has dressed to be on her same level, showing that they are a package, sharing her 'power'.
Her dress is a deep, dark shade of green with a long and wide split up her right leg. The material is torn, having the fabric that flows lightly and elegantly down her left leg reach all the way down to her ankle, but the right side stops at her mid-thigh. When Lexa informed Myles that she was expected to wear a long dress, the redhead wanted to make sure that her loaded weapon straps on her legs and high boots were clearly visible. A heavy, stiff gold plate bodice hugs to her figure tightly, illustrating her tiny waist.
There are no sleeves on her dress; the only thing keeping it up and in place is the gold corset she wears on top of it. This is also by design, meant to showcase the weapon braces fully loaded with knives and ammo mags that cover her forearms, wrists and hands. Her corset has skinny shoulder pads attached, securing the bodice to her. On her back, the scars that taunt her with memories of her father are on display, and it's the first time in her life that she's using the marks as signs of strength instead of reminders of weakness.
Shin height thick leather boots with tuffs of decorative fur cloak her feet, the once black leather now splattered with tan and brown hues of discolouration. A thick heel is at the back of her shoes, roughly two inches high. They're short enough that, if she needed to, she could still fight easily, but tall enough to assert some kind of dominance. Straps and small sheath-like pouches wrap around her boots, ammo and knives tucked into their spots and clearly visible.
Jasper wears a long-sleeved blue shirt, but the material is only visible on his right side. On his left, a crisp and clean white sheet of fabric with a long sleeve fashioned in it covers his arm. The long, flowing white fabric wraps around his back and hangs along his right leg, reaching down to his shin. His own golden plate of armour sits lower than the redheads, acting more as a wide belt to keep the white fabric in place and show off some of his weapons.
Black, slightly baggy jeans that have been patched with several other shades of dark grey material with different textures cover his long legs. Several straps and small pouches for weapons have been sewn on with similar material, each slot holding a weapon. Old, rusty buttons and chains line some of the straps decoratively. Shin height flat boots cover his feet, but only the very bottom part of the shoes display the 200-year-old, weather worn leather. Ratty dark grey cloth covered in straps and braces full of his weapons cloak all but the toe and heel end of his boots.
His wrist and forearm weapon braces sit on top of his long sleeves, starting at the tips of his fingers and running all the way to his elbows. A strip of metal taken from a chunk of armours shoulder pad rests on his right shoulder. Rusty chain rains down from the metal on his front and his back, falling to the left to connect to the loaded weapon straps along his waist.
Their intentions are solely to steal the show. Myles has resigned herself to what's about to happen, and if it must be done, she will make damn sure everyone that needs to see it will have their eyes glued on them. She needs the black war paint covering both her and Jasper's eyelids and streaking in matching sharp and neat lines from the bottom of their eyes to their hairlines by their ears to be noticed. Needs the difficult braids in her short, shoulder length hair to be seen as the symbol that it is.
Rule number thirty-two: 'Act like you're supposed to be here, or you'll be eaten alive'.
The second the two guards at the throne room doors see the two Arkers turn the corner, they push the double doors open. A strip of red fabric lines from the door, down the middle of the room, right up the few steps to Lexa's throne, where she and Titus standing waiting.
Titus wears what all of the others in the room wear, typical warrior attire with over-exaggerated stereotypes of their clans. Azgeda has their ridiculous amount of white fur and stripes on their very thick and heavy clothes, Trigeda is wearing Earthy shades of brown with nets, strips of bark and dead plant life as decorative features. Sangeda have their tan coloured layers of sacks and ponchos with suns and small gold ornaments, Yujleda's clothes shimmy with long tassels and the braids of hair from their fallen warriors. Ouskejon are adorned with various jewels and crystals, Delphi with decorative strips of fabric and jewellery braided into their hair and very neatly made clothing. Trishana wear decorative dots on their faces with very modest and reserved outfits, Podakru is covered in small, round pebbles and shells that line their clothes. Ingranrona has the braids of their horses hair hanging from their belts and horseshoe-shaped tattoos, Boudalan both have rocks, stones and bits of old pipes all over their clothes for good luck. Louwoda Kliron proudly displays bright shades of red cloth draped and tucked into their simple and humbly plain clothes.
Lexa, on the other hand, wears a simple yet loud medieval-style dress that practically screams 'bow before me'. The top half of the garment is pitch black and has no sleeves, only thick straps holding it up. It falls in a 'v' shape, with a small sliver of deep red, the shade of Myles' hair, appearing and wrapping around her waist. Under the wide leather and gold plated belt that wraps tightly around her thin waist, the dress turns into the deep red material and falls down to completely cover her ankles. The silky, velvety material has two strips of the black wrapping around her hips before the red takes over.
Her typical black warrior paint is smeared across her eyes, the gold gear present on her forehead and her brown hair falling in complex braids. Black ink lines her right upper arm, three bands with repetitive lines wrapping halfway around her arm, a geometrical heart shape in the middle of all of them. It gives the illusion of two butterflies with their wings open, looking down at one from the top and the other from the front.
A blonde woman dressed up in a fancy outfit, a simple and elegant dress that's nothing like the rest of the warriors outfits starts singing the clan's anthem the second the doors open. All eyes of the clans ambassadors turn to the two Arker's entering, and they stay on them for the whole walk up to the thrones steps. The blonde woman wears a golden headband in the front of her hair to keep her beautiful curls from her face, but a small chunk is free and bounces as she sings long and full notes perfectly.
Jasper and Myles make it to the steps and slow to a stop while the woman starts the second verse, and both teens maintain their steady eye contact with the commander. Both stay standing there for a moment, only breaking eye contact to bow their heads respectfully when the singer reaches a high note. They both fall to their knees, bowing before the commander with their eyes on the floor and shocked movement flutters in the corner of the redhead's hazel eyes.
The brief, pessimistic thought that her high slit in her dress had made her flash them without her knowing crosses her mind, but she chooses to have faith that because Marcus didn't faint and Clarke and Jasper didn't have heart attacks, she should be good.
Neither teen moves a muscle, and, slowly, all of the ambassadors mimic the two Arker's, with Prince Roan being the very first to fall to his knee. Marcus, Abby and Clarke are the last to kneel, and everyone holds the position until the very end of the anthem. After the singing stops, Lexa addresses them to advise them to stand.
"Hail warriors of the twelve clans," the commander declares, her voice loud and strong.
"Hail Commander of the blood," everyone but Marcus, Abby and Clarke reply in unison.
"Rise," Lexa orders, and everyone does. Myles and Jasper step to the side, standing between the Podakru ambassadors and the Arkers. "We welcome Skaikru to our halls, in the spirit of friendship and harmony." Clarke steps to stand beside her two friends as the commander's loud voice bellows out, "and we welcome Myles and Jasper kom Skaikru, legendary Wanheda, Mountain Slayer, both Ghost People."
A loud snort bubbles up inside of Myles, and both Jasper and Clarke reach out to pinch her nose. Swallowing and sucking in her lips, her hazel eyes lock on Roan's brown, finally seeing a shred of amusement. Her red eyebrows wiggle at him jokingly, and her eyes go back to Lexa when her friends remove their fingers from her nose.
"The reason for this summit has changed," the commander informs them, and heads instantly snap around at the words. "We are not here to negotiate a treaty with the Skaikru, but rather to initiate them into the coalition."
The room is suddenly deafeningly, the utter silence that had fallen when the two best friends had entered being consumed with the clans noisy clamouring. Lexa lets the unrest simmer for a moment more before talking again.
"To symbolise this union," the commander announces, and the room goes silent. "The leader of Skaikru must bear our mark."
None of the Arkers in the room hesitate in turning to look at Marcus Kane, the obvious choice is shared among them all. Marcus' gaze sweeps over all of the Arkers and Abby shifts, hesitating before speaking.
"The honour," the doctor whispers, "should be yours."
Marcus pauses, before locking his eyes on Lexa's patiently waiting gaze.
The young woman nods, "present your arm."
A man appears from somewhere behind them, a metal rod with the coalitions infinity symbol in a circle on the end of it. It's burning bright red, the air above it quivering from the heat it's emitting. Obediently, Marcus rolls up his wrist sleeve, offering his forearm to the man.
Myles can't help clenching her jaw and flinching away from the sight as the sound of his pained grunt and his skin sizzling echoes in the quiet room. The stench of burnt flesh reaches her nose a second before the door to the throne room is kicked down.
Octavia Blake's grunt ricochets amongst them as she rushes in the room with her machete drawn and swinging threateningly towards the doors guards. Bellamy Blake drags in one of the guards from the hallway outside of the room, holding him to his chest with his gun to his head and Charles Pike with his gun held high behind him. Everyone jumps back in shock, but Myles takes a subconscious step forward, feeling Jasper step close to her.
"Bellamy?" Myles calls in disbelief, "what the fuck are you doing?"
The Blake brother's deep brown eyes swivel to her, and his expression softens ever so slightly, his gaze sweeping over her greedily.
"What is the meaning of this?" Titus demands, stepping forward to Lexa protectively.
"The summit's a trap," Bellamy's deep voice announces, throwing the guard in his arms to the ground. His eyes find Myles', and he steps towards her urgently. "I need to get you out of here."
Myles steps closer to him instinctively, "what the hell are you talking about? Lexa, what's going on?"
"I don't know," Lexa's furious voice rumbles, her hard eyes boring into Bellamy.
"It's the Ice Nation," the dark brown curly haired man accuses, his eyes as frantic as his hand gripping at Myles, like his hold on her could protect her.
Confusion spreads across Myles' face. Why would the Ice Nation plan an attack on the summit, if they were gonna be dicks earlier and get pushed off of the building? Wouldn't they just play along, wait until the attack to disavow the commander?
Myles shakes Bellamy's arm to get his attention, but the Azgeda ambassadors beat her to the punch.
"These allegations are an outrage," Ivon, one of the Azgeda delegates, fumes, "the Ice Nation never stormed this summit with weapons, breaking our laws, that was the Skaikru."
"Bellamy," the redhead tries, her eyes desperately pleading for him to stop pointing his gun at the man and listen. "You're wrong."
"We're right about this," Pike assures confidently, "the two guards you left behind are dead already." Myles' head spins with the information before coming to the only logical resolution. "We need to go now."
"No," Myles refuses, spinning to look at Lexa, "it's a diversion. Heda, there's no way the delegate earlier today could've known of an attack." Lexa's expression flickers with bewilderment, "he would've had no reason to pick a fight."
"What are you talking about?" Bellamy questions, his hold on his weapon faltering as his wide eyes implore Myles.
"How did you come by this information?" Lexa asks, her authoritative tone booming.
Bellamy's eyes are stuck on Myles' hazel, his weapon dropping down at the conviction in her eyes.
"Bell," the redhead's worried voice shakes, "you're the attack. Where were you?"
The Blake brother gets ready to answer, but before the first word can fall from his tongue, he flicks his gaze to the door and freezes. Doing a double take, the confident stance he had a second ago crumbles at the sight behind them. Octavia follows suit, her wide and horrified deep brown eyes whipping to Bellamy.
"Where the hell is Echo?" Octavia's voice wavers, her fearful expression bleeding into her words.
Echo? Who's Echo?
"Bellamy," Jasper urgently prods, his anxious jittering begging for the man's attention. "You're a distraction. Where were you?"
"Bell," the dark brown-haired girl remorsefully utters, "we were wrong about this."
"Bellamy," Myles calls, shaking his arm when all he does is stare at door vacantly.
"I don't understand," his gruff voice breathes out as Marcus approaches him.
The councillor yanks the gun from his hands and Bellamy can only stare at the men in horror, "stand down."
"Bellamy," Raven's desperate voice crackles across several walkie-talkies, including the ones on Myles and Jasper. "Bellamy, come in."
Bellamy looks down at his waist but doesn't shift to answer it, as if he can feel the message Raven's about to tell him.
"He's here, Raven," the redhead answers, pressing down the button on the device strapped to her arm. "What's happened?"
"The grounders attacked Mount Weather," the mechanic sobs over the radio, and the words have an effect on everyone in the room.
"Casualties?" Jasper enquires morosely, and Myles finally drags her eyes from the Blake brother to search out Marcus'.
The image of Monty and his mother dying with all the Farm Station survivors in a bloodbath flashing behind her hazel eyes.
"It's gone," Raven whimpers, and Myles feels numb all of a sudden, both her and Jasper reaching out blindly to steady each other. "It's gone. They're all gone, Sinclair and I are the only ones left. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."
Raven holds the button down, allowing her sobs to wrack through the room.
"Uncle Marcus," Myles' quiet voice calls, and the sound of her voice makes both Bellamy and Jasper's hands grip her arms tightly. "Who was in there?"
"Not Monty or Hannah," the councillor weakly supplies, and the redhead shuts her eyes in relief.
"You should have never moved your people back into Mount Weather," Ivon sneers, stalking forward to stand between the Arkers and Lexa. Myles' hand's grip Bellamy's arm, pulling him into her side to comfort the shaken man. "The Ice Nation did what Lexa was too weak to do."
"Oh, good god," Myles mutters, looking exasperatedly at Jasper, who slaps her chest at the phrase.
"This is an act of war," Lexa seethes, spitting the words out venomously and stepping down the few stairs to stand toe to toe with the man. "Sentries, arrest the Ice Nation delegation!" Immediately, two warriors come and snatch up the Azgedian and haul him from the room. "Including the Prince."
"Woah," the redhead drawls out in shock, ignoring Jasper's warning grip tightening on her arm to try to stop her from abandoning her spot with Bellamy to approach the commander. "He's been here the whole week. He didn't know."
"Friends of the enemy, Wanheda," the commander reasons, and Myles whips her head to share another pissed off look with her best friend.
"That one was low," Myles murmurs, allowing Jasper's alarmed hands to edge her away and Lexa follows. Her hazel eyes go to the other Arkers in the room, "you need to go home."
"If they attacked Mount Weather," Abby agrees, "Arkadia could be next."
"I agree," Marcus announces and Lexa approaches the group of Arkers.
"Go," the commander declares with finality, "marshal your forces. We'll avenge the attack together."
"Team work makes the dream work," Jasper seconds, and both him and Myles raise their hands to high five themselves.
"I'll escort them," Indra offers, guiding Abby and Octavia away. "I hope you kept up your training. You'll need it."
"What do we do now?" Clarke quizzes, flicking her gaze between the two best friends and Lexa.
"You go home," Jasper kindly urges with a shrug. "Team Ghost has handled things like this before."
"No, Aggie," Bellamy refuses, his deep brown eyes bright with worry as his hands try to pull Myles towards the door. "We need to leave. Now."
"We need the ambassadors from the thirteenth clan to stay here in Polis," Lexa informs him, watching the redhead try to pull away from Bellamy's frantic hands.
"You've got Jasper," the Blake brother insists, "it's not safe here for her."
"Bell," Myles assures him, tugging herself away from his hands. "I'll be fine. I'm with JJ."
"And she will be safe here," the commander asserts, "under my protection."
Marcus doesn't even try to argue with it, having seen how both she and Jasper work and trusting in them to stay safe. Exactly like they've done for the past three months.
"Aggie, Jasper," Clarke's worried voice tries, her blue eyes swimming with emotion. "Are you sure?"
There's an undertone to her voice that makes the question seem less about their safety, and more about her hesitation to trust Lexa.
"We'll make sure she keeps her word," the redhead verifies, and it hits the nail on the head.
"Okay," the blonde sags, flicking her still uncertain eyes to the commander.
"Heda," Titus calls, "we must convene the war council immediately."
Jasper hesitates, seeing Marcus and Bellamy still itching to say something more.
"I'll join you soon," Myles tells both him and a patiently awaiting Lexa, and it sets things into motion.
Lexa turns to follow her Flamekeeper out of the room and Jasper surges forward to hug Clarke.
"Be safe," the brown-haired teen tells the blonde, before pulling back to clap Bellamy on the shoulder. "Good to see you guys again."
Taking his departure as their cue, both Griffin's turn to walk through the door and Myles' hazel eyes linger on Pike. The former teacher is antsy, his hard and stony expression stuck scanning the grounders around them from the doorway, his hands twitching as if he expects a fight. His words from a week ago echo in her mind, 'grounder killers one and all'.
"You guys stay safe," Myles orders Marcus, the man missing her subtle glance and giving her a hearty chuckle in reply.
"I'm supposed to be telling you that," the councillor jibes, and Myles pulls him into a tight embrace. "Try not to do something that'll give me a heart attack."
"Rule number forty-seven," the redhead whispers low enough for only Marcus to hear, and it makes the councillor go rigid.
In her extensive list of rules, there are sections and groups of numbers that fall under a category. Jasper and her had the goal of the rules being their own code, giving several numbers multiple different rules to confuse anyone unfamiliar with them all. They all fall under category's, but the only important category to know and recognise is the forties. The forties are the only rules that don't have more than one rule to each number. They're only to be used in absolute emergencies, meant to be a deafening alarm to the recipients.
Rule number forty-seven: 'Wolves arrive in sheep's clothing'.
Marcus pulls back, and the redhead flicks her gaze to a disgraced Pike again, and this time the councillor receives the message loud and clear. Nodding and cupping her cheek for a moment, Marcus turns to leave after clapping Bellamy on the shoulder.
"Aggie," the Blake brothers pleads, his body shaking desperately as he gets as close to the girl as possible. "She left us to die on that mountain."
"She won't do it again," Myles states confidently.
"How can you be so sure?" Bellamy quizzes, his tone becoming frantic. "She will always put her people first."
"Because you're her people now," the redhead relays calmly, her red eyebrows turned up in a worried frown.
"No, we're not," the man insists, bringing his hands up to cradle her face. "You should come home to yours."
Myles lifts her hands to gently pry his hands from her cheeks, shaking her head sadly, "I'm so sorry." A heartbroken look crosses his face, and it crushes the redhead's heart. "I can't. I spent the last three months fixing shit like this. I need to stay."
"Please," Bellamy begs, his gruff voice quiet, "don't do this again."
"I have to," the red-haired teen justifies, her eyes soft with sorrow at the instant switch in his demeanour. He backs up, flinging his arms up slightly and dropping them frustratedly as he steps backwards slowly. "I'm sorry."
And with that, the Blake brother walks out of the door, disappearing into the hallway.