Day 146 – Feb. 5
The handles of Myles' knives prod her ankles as her heavy leather boots march up the stairs in Polis, her and Jasper's hot and tall travel mugs squished between her side and right arm. Most of her fingers are hooked around three thick wooden handles of steaming mugs made from buffalo horns, the size of them so bulky that the third mug is only being held up because of the two others pressing against it. The fingers that aren't clinging onto the warm wooden handles are crushed into either each other or the warm and coarse texture of the horn-mugs. Stepping off of the last step to get to the floor she wants, the red-haired teen walks down the hallway instead of going up the next flight.
Immediately, the lone warrior standing guard in front of the door where the two Ingranrona ambassadors are staying the night perks up at the sight of her. A polite smile crosses over his sharp features, highlighting the small tattoos above the line of his carefully groomed facial hair.
"Eiii," the blonde man calls, relaxing his shoulders, "em komba raun. Chon bilaik ain?" [AN: "Ayyy, she's back. Which is mine?"]
"Ona twin," Myles answers tiredly, her mind still wracked from the events of the night before. "Sou wodaplei kom kodchuwellen, sha?" [AN: "In the middle. Dash of milk, yeah?"]
"Daun's ait," he confirms, carefully grabbing the mug clamped between the two others. "Mochof, Maiyls." [AN: "That's right. Thank you, Myles."]
"Pro," the redhead replies distractedly, her eyes on the two mugs in her hands as she slowly walks forward. Without the third cup there anymore, Myles feels unbalanced, like she's about to drop the rest of the cups any moment. Two more warriors slowly appear in the edges of her vision, "ait yo skat. Tu kom skap kodchuwellen, rasad thau shogon, lesad kom shogon." [AN: "You're welcome... Alright, boys. Two with half milk, right without sugar, left with sugar."]
"Spichen," one of the men exclaims jokingly, both of them taking their respective mugs appreciatively. "Yu beda na shak op kom osir, ai na hon disha in, foshou." [AN: "Goddamn. You should come live with us, I could get used to this."]
"Ba ha na ai kep yo in ona yo tipa?" Myles counters with a light smile, awkwardly grabbing her and Jasper's mugs from her elbow and continuing past them to reach the room where she and Jasper are staying. [AN: "But how will I keep you on your toes?"]
"Chof, Maiyls," the other man calls quietly, lifting his horn-mug up in a silent cheers. [AN: "Thanks, Myles."]
"Sha, pro," the redhead waves off, pushing her door open and tossing over her shoulder. "Osi'na nestaim." [AN: "Yeah, you're welcome. We'll see you later."]
Shutting the door behind her with her boot, Myles' hazel eyes find one of the two skinny beds in the room. One is unoccupied, the neatly hand-woven blankets straightened and made. The only signs that someone had slept in it is the slight crinkle in the wool-stuffed pillow and the miscellaneous junk piled on top of the side table. A few metres away is another skinny bed, this one with Jasper laying face down and sprawled across the scattered blankets with his arms out wide and his fingers on one side brushing against the floor.
Walking directly up to his bed, Myles sets her mug down on the edge of his side table. Using her now free hand, the redhead twists the top off of Jasper's and holds the steaming coffee under his nose for him to smell it. After a beat, her best friend's nose twitches before sniffing earnestly.
"Is that heaven I smell?" Jasper slurs out dramatically, his face trying to follow the mug over the side of the bed as Myles pulls it away to put the lid back on.
"As close as it gets," the red-haired teen sighs, watching the teen rub at his face and start to roll over. "Scoot."
Jasper obediently rolls onto his back and shifts to lie on the very edge of the skinny bed. Plopping down beside him, the redhead hands him his warm mug then reaches for her own.
"This bed isn't big enough for the two of us," the brown-haired teen grumbles halfheartedly into his mug before taking a huge mouthful.
Myles sighs heavily after taking a swig of her drink, "I miss Max."
"Dad'll take care of him," her best friend replies tiredly, rubbing at his face. "What time is it?"
"The sun isn't up yet," the redhead supplies dully. "I'd say almost six-ish."
"Aggiiiiieee," Jasper groans loudly, the sound vibrating through his side that the red-haired teen is pressed against on the small bed. "Why am I awake?"
"I'm awake," Myles answers simply, lifting a shoulder lazily. "And we need to talk."
Jasper rolls his head to look at her, "I wasn't the only that dreamt of that hellhole last night?"
"They must've given more marrow to the residents than we thought," the red-haired teen theorises, the cogs in her mind turning. "But why would the Ice Nation work with a mountain man? What could they possibly offer each other?"
"Does it matter?" Jasper scoffs indignantly, "none of them is innocent. They're all demonic, happiness-sucking vultures."
"Tell me how you really feel," Myles probes sarcastically, a red eyebrow raising as she looks down at her best friend.
"That place should've been blown up three months ago," the brown-haired teen insists heatedly, "why does it matter what motive the bastard had? Azgeda won't just let them live happily ever after. The fuck probably died the second after the self-destruct code was handed over."
"Okay, so…" the redhead drawls out thoughtfully, staring in front of her with furrowed brows. "Mountain-fuck is dead, and Azgeda gets their war, but how do they see themselves winning a war against the other twelve clans and automatic rifles? They wouldn't make such a bold move without a plan they're sure will work."
That gets Jasper to stop, his frustrated shifting ceasing against his best friend's side. It's silent, the air in the room becoming thick with the weight of the two Arker's heavy thoughts.
"It could be a triple-whammy," the brown-haired teen guesses distractedly, "triple diversion. First diversion is the army marching on Polis, the second is Echo drawing Bellamy to…" Jasper's voice trails off, causing hazel eyes to swivel to his far off brown. "Why did Echo draw Bellamy, Octavia and Pike away?"
"Intel, maybe?" Myles instantly offers, though the scenarios are still playing through in her mind.
"Arkadia," Jasper lists, "us and Indra are the only ones that have radios. It wouldn't've helped with the attack on Hell."
"Because it wasn't for the attack on Hell," the redhead explains, "it was to scope out Polis' defences and make sure Lexa knew of the attack straight away."
"You know what we should do?" Jasper asks after another dull moment of thinking. Myles rolls her head to him in acknowledgment. "Go home and build another extension."
"To... distract the Azgeda army when they come to take our land?" Myles counters slowly, patronisingly.
"No," her best friend refutes, "for dad. That way it gives us all privacy, and it's not tossing him to the wolves completely."
Myles waits a beat before adding hesitantly, "and it'll get him outta Greenie's room."
"Monty won't move in with us," Jasper huffs pessimistically, "he's happy with all them. Not having nightmares and pretending he's innocent." A red eyebrow quirks up subconsciously at the words, her mind recognising the step back he's taken. "I miss him."
"Yeah, I do, too," the redhead empathises, her shoulders sagging in relief at his words. "Maybe he can visit soon, once Ray's settled in his own room."
"Yeah," her best friend's bland and quiet voice cracks out. "Maybe."
"Ambassadors of the coalition," Lexa's loud and authoritative voice bellows out in one even tone. The commander sits on her throne with Titus standing by her side, the bright morning sun shining through the window behind them. "Today we honour our covenant." Myles' curious hazel eyes sweep over the seats that have the ambassadors sitting on them until they land on Roan's. The chained man's equally intrigued brown eyes meet hers, prompting an eyebrow twitch that he returns. "The clan that stands against one of us… stands against us all."
"Lid fingadon in," Titus calls to the warriors standing guard on either side of the door, gesturing to them with a 'come hither' motion. [AN: "Bring in the accused."]
Jasper and Myles' eyes lock, before the redhead flicks her head to look at the door, feeling her short ponytail brush against the back of her tall chair. Red hair that's too short to reach her ponytail and barely touches her shoulders swings through the air, gliding over the black hood that's stitched across the top half of her long-sleeved dark grey, form-fitting shirt and wraps around the top of her shoulders.
Trikru warriors enter as the guards open the door, one of their hands gripping an arm each of the Azgeda Queen. Her clothes match Lexa's in their quality and effectiveness, a light streak of dried deep red blood smeared across the fur on her right side is the only sign of imperfection. Long dirty blonde hair is braided and carefully pinned back in an elegant bun, and it's too complicated for the woman to have done by herself. Large facial scarring hooks around both of her eyebrows, the symmetrical pattern jagged and spiky, giving the impression of a crown of thorns.
Dull green eyes find Myles' hazel within seconds of the woman being brought into the room, her silent challenging gaze flicking between the two Arker's. Jasper straightens beside the redhead, but all Myles does in acknowledgement is hold her pointed stares and slowly raise an eyebrow. As she's brought past Roan, Myles can see the Prince's stunned expression at the sight of his mother in chains.
The queen never once takes her eyes off of the two Arker's until she passes them, and not a single person in the room says a word or makes a sound until she's brought right up to the commanders steps. Queen Nia is pushed to her knees once they've stopped, and her hard eyes are now stuck on Lexa.
"Queen Nia of Azgeda has confessed to the destruction of Mount Weather," Titus announces, and hazel eyes squint when they look to Roan, trying to gauge the authenticity out of his shocked reaction. "Resulting in the death of 49 members of Skaikru." The flamekeeper's dark gaze catches the redhead's. "Wanheda, what say you?"
All eyes in the room except for the Queen's and Jasper's also look to the red-haired teen as her strong voice doesn't wait a beat.
"Skaikru demands for justice," Myles answers, her eyes locked on the commander's.
"Azgeda nou badan disha goufo op nowe," Queen Nia snaps disdainfully, tilting her head to the Arkers. [AN: "The Ice Nation does not answer to these children."]
"Shof yu op," Titus immediately declares, glaring at the Queen and successfully shutting the woman up. "The punishment for your crime is death." Hazel eyes swivel to Roan, watching how his face shows hardly any sigh of grief, like he'd resigned himself to the fact already. Murmurs fill the room from the other ambassadors, and dread pumps through Myles' veins when she looks back at the Queen's confident posture. "Do you have anything to say in your defence?" [AN: "Silence."]
"I need no defence," the woman proclaims spitefully, glaring at the commander. "She does." Jasper and Myles lock eyes fleetingly in fear, "today is judgement day. I call for a vote of no-confidence."
Lexa doesn't even flinch, but the ice cold dread pumping through the two Arker's veins electrifies the two best friends. This is what Lexa had been afraid of, the clans unanimously voting for her to be too weak to be commander.
"Take this Queen to meet her fate," Titus demands, pointing at the woman and gesturing to the door.
Two guards step towards her but the woman is calm, and the ambassador for Trishanakru stands from his seat.
"Slou yu rou daun," the old man orders as he rises, "nou Heda noumou." [AN: "Not so fast. Commander no longer."]
"Nou Heda noumou," a Sangedakru ambassador seconds, standing up. [AN: "Commander no longer."]
Ambassadors continue to rise, repeating the same phrase and Titus gestures to them angrily, "take them away, too!"
Guard's grip at the Queen's arms, and surround the delegates when Lexa's voice bellows, "hod op." [AN: "Wait."]
Titus crouches down to desperately plead with the commander, but the young woman merely raises a hand.
"Let her make her move," the commander declares with determined finality.
Quickly, every clan ambassador besides the two Arker's stands, the same phrase being echoed by them all. Roan does not shift, but the other representative from his clan does, standing in unison with the rest. Myles and Jasper's panicked eyes shoot around the faces.
"Heda," Jasper calls, his tone filled with a worried warning as Roan finally stands. "This was her plan."
"It's a coup," Lexa agrees, her usual slow speech emphasised by her dark tone.
"It's the law," Queen Nia's harsh voice corrects, her dull green eyes pinning both teens with a bitter look. "Her law. A unanimous vote of the ambassadors or death are all that can remove a commander from power."
"Sucks to be you, then," Jasper quips instantly, getting a sharp look from the woman.
"It's not unanimous," Myles informs the Queen, her tone matching the commander's slow and dull voice.
"We don't recognise the legitimacy of Skaikru," Queen Nia denounces loudly, her eyes looking the two up and down condescendingly.
"We do," Titus interjects strongly, stepping down to stand on the Queen's level. "Yesterday, Skaikru took the brand. They are the thirteenth clan. This vote of no-confidence fails. All these coup plotters will suffer the exact same fate as the Ice Queen."
The ambassadors heads snap to each other in shock before the Queen settles their nerves.
"She won't take our heads," the Ice Queen announces, "because she knows our armies will retaliate. None of us here wants war."
"We both know what you want, Nia," the commander's strong voice rumbles out authoritatively. Lexa stands from her throne, stepping down the few steps of her platform to approach the woman. "If you think me unfit to command, issue the challenge and let's get on with it."
Red eyebrows quirk in confusion, and Jasper turns to her, but she has no answers for him. Neither one of the two teens have heard of a 'challenge' being issued in place of a no-confidence vote.
"Very well," the woman agrees, her voice as icy as her clan's land, "you are challenged."
"And I accept your challenge," Lexa answers straight away, earning several whispers around the room.
Hazel eyes jut to Roan, as if he could somehow shed some light on the subject. The man appears to be just as surprised by the turn of events as them, watching the scene with a strange detachment.
"So be it," Titus addresses the room, "soulou gonplei." Myles' lungs release a quick breath in a huff of shock, and Jasper snaps his head to her. "Warrior against warrior. To the death. Nia of Azgeda, who do you choose to be your champion?" [AN: "Single combat."]
Myles snaps her head to Roan, feeling even more dread rile up inside of her.
"My son," the woman declares without hesitation, "Roan. Prince of Azgeda."
The blatant shock and betrayal that flashes across the prince's face is undeniable. She's blindsided him, and the redhead can't help but see her father's short black hair and the scar through his eyebrow on the Queen's face now. A warped sense of fear trickles through her veins, either Roan dies and this war will be over, or he wins and it's only the beginning of a new Hell.
"Heda," Titus directs his attention to the commander. "Who will fight for you?"
Lexa, ever-collected, calmly turns and steps up the stairs to sit on her throne. Once she's seated, her hard eyes tell Myles exactly what's about to happen.
"Ai na," Myles replies, her low tone shaking the floor. [AN: "I will."]
"Are you crazy?" Jasper snaps under his breath, his brown eyes wide and petrified as his hand clamps down on Myles' forearm. "There has to be another way."
"No," Lexa utters strongly, "ai laik Heda. Non na throu daun gon ai." [AN: "No. I'm the commander. No one fights for me."]
Titus turns slowly, his terrified eyes locking on the two Arker's.
Jasper and Myles' two boots march down the Polis hallway to reach the commander's throne room again. Both teens are on edge, having just spoken to Marcus and Abby about the Mount Weather memorial and election for Chancellor they're having today. If they never hear the words 'Mount Weather' again, it'll still be too soon.
"What if he hasn't done it?" Jasper frets, breathless from anxiety and scaling the flights of stairs again. "Then what?"
"I don't know," Myles grunts out, "pick up shop and move across the country? There has to be grounders over there that aren't constantly at war."
Nodding at the two guards standing on either side of the throne room doors, both instantly push the doors open for the two teens.
"… chit bilaik thri bakon gon Heda?" Lexa asks the seven children sitting on the steps under her throne. [AN: "What are the three pillars of being a commander?"]
The commander's warrior outfit from before is completely gone, the young woman only wearing a black see through lace, long-sleeved shirt over a black tank top and black leggings. Her hair is tied back in the half-up ponytail with braids littered throughout and her black war paint is no longer smeared across her face, making the small gold gear on her forehead the last remaining identifying factor of a commander.
"Noun," a young boy answers confidently, and the two Arker's silently step towards Titus. [AN: "Wisdom."]
"Fiyanes," a girl supplies, before falling quiet again. [AN: "Compassion."]
"En uf," another child finishes. [AN: "And strength."]
"You manage to talk her out of it yet?" Jasper enquires lowly, the question meant for the man's ears only.
"No," he regretfully informs them, not turning to look at them, "but maybe you two can."
"This is fucking insane," the redhead huffs quietly, "the Queen doesn't have to fight, why does she feel like she has to?"
"The Queen's strength is not in doubt," Titus divulges wisely, finally turning to meet their eyes for the first time since they've walked in. "Thanks to your people, Heda's is."
"Lev yo op meija en mema yo in," the commander tells the children, "Yo gada yo rein in kom yo Sheidjus." [AN: "Train hard and remember, you are each worthy of your Nightblood."]
Titus takes this as his cue, stepping forward and clapping once, "Natblida." Every child stands and they instantly form a line in front of the Flamekeeper. "Mafta ai op." [AN: "Nightbloods. Follow me."]
Obediently, all seven children calmly and quietly follow the man to the door, and Lexa stands from her throne.
"Aden," the commander calls to a young blonde boy near the back of the line, stepping down the steps. "Stay." Lexa's eyes find the two Arker's, "Myles, Jasper, this is Aden." Both best friends step forward to them with polite smiles and small nods in greeting. "Aden is the most promising of my novitiates. If I should die today, he will likely succeed me." The words get an instant reaction out of the two teens, Jasper straightens visibly and Myles' left arm tremors violently. A kind smile graces the usually stoic commander's face as she turns to the young boy, "they worry about their people. Tell them what will happen to them when you become Heda, Aden."
"If I become Heda," Aden addresses the two Arker's, his tone unwavering but his already grieving eyes tell a story of how much the boy cares for his teacher. "I pledge my loyalty to the thirteenth clan."
"Mochof, Adin," Myles vows, trying to ignore the dread that the conversation leaves in her bones. "Oso na otaim gran klin gon bilaik gudenof, you." [AN: "Thank you, Aden. We will strive to always earn that."]
Lexa's chin tips up, a bright look blazing away in her brown eyes, "Thank you. Now, go join the others."
Aden bows down, before turning and walking around the two best friends to leave. Myles and Jasper's eyes stay on him, watching him go with the same fearful expressions of their faces. If this is what it's like having a young woman in charge, how could they ever possibly put a child in the middle of a never ending war path? Have a young boy be the centre of any and all enemy attention?
"See?" Lexa breathes airily through a smile, "nothing to worry about."
"Sorry," Jasper grumbles out, turning away from the door to face the commander, but Myles' hazel eyes remain glued to the shut doors the boy exited out of. "Having the fate of our people in the hands of a child doesn't really settle any nerves. That isn't even the tiniest bit worrying to you?"
"Where are his parents?" Myles inquires, finally turning to look at the young woman.
Brown eyes flick between the two teens, "if that's what you're worried about, you worry for nothing."
"Doesn't matter," the redhead amends, levelling the commander with a stubborn look. "You're not dying today. We need a strong and experienced leader to walk us through this, for both our people, or there will be no one left for Aden to be commander over."
"I've sent Indra to raise an army from the villages near Arkadia," the commander informs them, and the weight on the two teens' shoulders shifts. Over the last three months, they haven't just given supplies to Arkadia, but they've built up a rapport with the villages around them. Lexa turns as she continues, "your people are protected, as I vowed they would be."
"It's not just about our people," Jasper corrects, following the commander up to her throne.
"We care about your people," Myles finishes when the young woman turns back to face them. "And you. I've seen Roan fight."
"You've never seen me fight," Lexa counters confidently, and the soft and respectable expression on her face twists into something sour.
"We haven't," the brown-haired teen agrees, "but the way he handled the Azgeda scouts on the way here… you don't stand a chance."
"If you're right," the commander proclaims as a flutter of an idea wiggles its way into Myles' mind, "today's the day my spirit will choose its successor and you need to accept that."
"Like hell we do," Jasper snaps, stepping forward urgently. "I'm not losing another friend."
"JJ," Myles whispers, reaching a hand out to rest on his arm. Her best friend's brown eyes look to her hazel. "We might not have to."
Myles stealthily slips through Polis' markets, her black hood up and cloaking her head. Her cautious and purposeful steps steer clear of the group of guards escorting the Queen and her son through the streets, but her eyes never leave them. Every turn they make is anticipated, and quickly followed up by one of her own, slinking in the shadows of the Capitol. They weave around handcrafted structures, heading to a clearing with nothing in it but the pale solid concrete floor for a radius of a couple metres.
The small group halts when they get to it, and the woman exchanges heated words with her son before holding her chained hands up. One guard places a sheathed sword in her outstretched and awaiting hands as another unshackles Roan's. Queen Nia offers the weapon to her son, but Roan doesn't take it, only diverts his eyes to the ground. More words are uttered by the woman, and whatever she says must stir something inside of the reluctant man, because he grips the handle of the long blade and yanks it from its sheath.
Queen Nia walks off with the guards, and Myles stays in the shadows with her hood up, leaning on the edge of a handmade wooden stall around the clearing. Roan turns away from where his mother walks, taking on a predatory posture as he swings and spins the weapon expertly around is his hands. Myles pushes off of the building she was leaning against, sauntering up quietly behind the distracted man's back. When she's only a couple feet away, the red-haired teen stops as she sees his head twitch to the side.
Expectantly, with one last impressive twirl, Roan spins around in place and holds the sword's tip to Myles.
"Is that death I hear stalking me?" Roan questions rhetorically, and the redhead pulls her hood down. "Or just the Commander of Death?"
"Some say they're one and the same," Myles retorts blandly, not flinching back from the man's sharp weapon pointing at her face.
After another quiet moment, the Prince drops his sword down and turns away, "I need to prepare."
"That's why I'm here," the redhead insists, stepping forward and holding her hands up in surrender. "Come at me."
"I thought you were done fighting," Roan presses gruffly, a halfhearted scoff falling from his lips.
"Oh, come on, Azgeda," Myles taunts, taking another step towards the man with a slouched and predatory stance. "You've gotten boring."
No sooner than the last syllable is past her rosy lips, the Prince juts towards her, swiping his long sword through the air to slice at her. His movements aren't as fluid as Myles knows they can be, and there's a reluctant stutter in his motions, like he's only doing it to scare her and is already preparing to stop before the sharp blade is anywhere near her. The redhead ducks and slides to the side the swinging sword came from, shooting back up to hook her arm around the blade, close to the handle.
Her intentions aren't to hurt the man, and she only applies enough pressure on his wrist with her other hand to pinch at his muscles and get him to drop his hold on the weapon. The sword clatters to the concrete, and the Prince makes no more moves at the girl. Myles instantly steps back and let's go of his wrist once the weapon falls from his grip, and the teen bends down to pick it up.
"You're holding back, your highness," the redhead states, holding the swords handle out to him and quirking a red eyebrow with their stubborn gazes locked. "Come at me."
"You didn't come here to fight," Roan barks out accusingly, snatching the sword from her hands. "Spit it out!"
Myles doesn't answer, only holds her arms out wide with her empty palms open in a show of 'come and get me'. Roan huffs frustratedly before twisting the sword around with a flick of his wrist, charging at the red-haired teen. Lifting the weapon up high, the Prince swings the blade down and Myles jumps to the side before quickly dipping her shoulder to lean back to the right when Roan jabs the blade towards her. When he juts the weapon forward, his whole body sings with him, following the movement with one foot subtly stepping towards her. Using this slightly closer proximity to her advantage, Myles shoves her hand against the flat edge of the blade above her leaning form as she immediately bounces back up to stand up straight and lifts a leg to give enough of a push to the man's hip to force him back another step.
Breathing a sadistic laugh, Myles repeats his words from their 'adventure' a week prior, "now, that's more like it."
Roan lets out a harsh breath in disbelief, shaking his head before barreling forward again with his sword swinging up. The red-haired teen leans back as she jumps to the left, lifting both her hands to twist and flick at his sword-wielding arm to use his momentum to change his direction. He's caught on now, and as his body continues rushing into the empty air, he flicks out his ankle to trip her.
Falling on one knee, Myles is just about to use the foot still firmly planted on the concrete to propel her upwards when the prince swings around and stops with the cold metal of his sword lightly brushing against the pale skin of her neck. A smile spreads across the redhead's face, and her brightly shining hazel eyes are locked on his torn brown, as if he's fighting with himself and not the Arker. The look in his eyes makes the smile and alight glint in her own expression fade.
"It's better," Myles jokes, feeling the weight of his anguish sit upon her shoulders as she stands up. Roan pulls his sword away, looking at the ground distractedly. "Not great, but better."
This gets a sarcastic huff of a laugh from the prince, "alright. You like talking. Talk. What do you want?"
"When," the redhead starts haltingly, shifting on her feet and diverting her eyes. "When you unstrapped my weapons… you saw – "
"The scars," Roan answers, finishing her sentence for her.
Hazel eyes snap back up to his, "They're not like yours or... kill marks."
"They looked like battle scars," the prince offers instead, his brown eyes filled with confusion. "They're old. You've been fighting battles since you were a child."
"Yes and no," Myles awkwardly supplies, "it… was more like a one-sided battle. He fought, and I took it, because that's what I needed to do to survive."
"Why are you telling me this?" Roan quizzes, his frustrated confusion only deepening with every word the Arker says.
"Because," the red-haired teen drawls out awkwardly, her eyebrows turning up in a frown, "when your mother said your name, I saw the look on your face. I didn't see you and your mother anymore, I saw me and my father." Roan stays quiet, but his eyes flick between hers, and she continues. "I want to do something, but I can't without telling you first."
"You're going to take Heda's place," the prince guesses, his body going rigid and something strange flittering through his dark expression.
"I think she's a tad bit too prideful for that," Myles admits softly with a sad smile, taking a deep breath. "How much does Michi like your royal title?"
"What?" Roan barks, anger twisting up his features. "You want me to denounce my family? My people would never take me back."
"I don't want that," the redhead tries to appease. "I want you to become king." That makes the man still again, his eyes imploring the Arker with silent questions that she doesn't answer, instead doubling down on her offer. "I've seen the heart of a true king, one who's not just good but great. You have that."
"You want to kill her?" Roan enquires, his empty tone losing the harshness it had held a moment ago.
Nodding regretfully, "if you win, this war will never be over. And if Lexa wins, the Coalition will be pitted against Azgeda. I…" dropping her eyes for a second before finding his again. "I don't know if it's the right thing to do, or if there even is a right thing to do, but I trust that you know your people enough to tell me if it isn't."
Roan holds her eyes for a silent moment, the idea being turned over in his head, "how?"
"I can get close," Myles offers, as if that answers his question.
"She won't be alone," the prince discloses, "she never is... but I can help you do it."
It's midday now, the time is passing far too quickly for Myles' liking. The sound of her boots walking down the hallway of Polis' prison cells is slower than her anxious heart-rate, and her left sleeve is predominantly taking over her mind. What she's about to do isn't lost upon her, and if she's being completely honest, the redhead hasn't fully thought it through. Somehow, both she and Jasper keep finding themselves stuck in these positions where there's little to no time, and all they can do is act.
Both rules for number thirty-two echo in her mind. Rule number thirty-two: Anyone can die. Rule number thirty-two: Act like you're supposed to be here, or you'll be eaten alive. Rule thirty-two. Rule thirty-two.
What's a little more blood?
Coming to the very end of the hallway, two guards watch over the door to the Queen's much larger cell, and the redhead slows to a stop. Her posture is calm and straight, giving her an air of confidence and authority that she's sure she shouldn't ever have. The men's eyes watch her, but it's the red-haired teen that speaks first.
"Slak dei door," Myles' loud voice orders when her feet still, adding after a moment of nothing happening. "Beja." [AN: "Open the door. Please."]
"Azplana don biyo nou hangon," one man replies gruffly, neither one moving for the door. [AN: "The Ice Queen said no visitors."]
A red eyebrow lifts impatiently, "kei, yu na tel du op Wanheda gaf telon in." [AN: "Well, you go tell her ('du' is derogatory/sarcastic) that the Commander of Death wants a word."]
The men look at each other before turning and pushing the door open for the Arker. Myles saunters in after the guards, eyeing the Queen's setup. She is eating lunch on a table that none of the other cells have. A young woman with dark brown hair that reaches her armpits and the decorative facial scars of someone from Azgeda tends to the woman's meal. The white and raised scars over her young face stretch across the entirety of her forehead, falling down past both of her eyebrows and lining her cheeks with straight lines that cross over the bridge of her nose. One of her arms is behind her back, the other pouring a drink into the Queen's cup from a large pitcher.
Neither look up from the Queen's meal when they enter, only acknowledging them when one of her guards speaks.
"Wanheda kom Skaikru," the guard introduces her presence, and both of the women look up at her. "Ai Haiplana." [AN: "Wanheda of the Sky People, my Queen."]
Myles walks past the guard, who only stops a few steps into the room before turning back around. Queen Nia shares a pointed look with the young woman standing beside her table, and the brown-haired girl sets down the pitcher to walk over to a wall to the redheads left. The red-haired teen doesn't stop slowly approaching the woman until she reaches the other side of the Queen's table, and it's only then that the woman speaks.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Queen Nia inquires blandly, looking at the Arker expectantly.
"What if Jasper and I changed our vote?" Myles' strong voice counters, and Nia tips her head with intrigue.
"Now you're thinking like a leader of your people," the Queen praises, a small smile on her thin lips as she twists a piece of flat bread and a knife around in her hands.
Myles takes this as acceptance and walks around the table to the woman, "I would need some assurances first."
"Skaikru will be safe," the woman pledges, dropping the bread onto a plate.
"And me?" Myles presses, her boots stopping to stand a few steps away from the Queen.
"My quarrel is with Lexa," Nia informs her in a sharp tone, "not you." The Queen stabs the knife she holds in her hand into the wooden table, looking up at the redhead with her angry dull green eyes. "Once she's gone, I won't need the power of Wanheda."
Hazel eyes jut to her left for a second, trying to see the brown-haired young woman standing against the wall in her peripherals.
Returning her gaze to the Queen, "Okay."
"Okay?" Queen Nia repeats in disbelief, her expression is stoic and frozen, but her eyes shine with uncertainty. "You don't want vengeance for the dead at Mount Weather?"
"I make sure to keep my priorities with the living," the red-haired teen deadpans unwaveringly, "and not with the dead." Reaching forward without breaking the eye contact with the woman, Myles yanks the knife from the table. "Oso tai choda op kom jus." [AN: "We bind ourselves in blood."]
Lifting the blade, Myles slices her own palm open, watching as deep red blood the shade of her hair bubbles and pools from the wound. The Queen's eyes watch her, lighting up with pride and joy at the action.
"I see you've learned our oath," Queen Nia states as the redhead pulls the blade from her hand.
Myles wipes each side of the blade on the sleeve of her left wrist before stabbing the weapon back into the table.
"Do you accept?" Myles asks, holding her bleeding hand up and waiting for the Queen to make her move.
The Queen stands, walking around the corner of the table to stand directly in front of Myles. Her dull green eyes stay locked on the redheads hazel, and she pulls the blade from the wood.
"Oso tai choda op kom jus," the woman repeats, her gaze unwavering as she lifts the knife and brings it to her palm.
"Hod op!" The brown-haired young woman calls out urgently, and Myles whips around to see the woman charging for her. [AN: "Stop!"]
She's quick, but Myles is quicker. Her hands grip at Myles' shirt, shoving her backwards towards the table, and the redhead reaches for the brunettes shoulder to fling her arm into her own chest. They both stumble, grunting as they struggle for the upper-hand. Myles shoves her knee up into the young woman's stomach and uses the brief bout of breathlessness it gives her to pull two of her knives and hold them to the woman's throat.
Strangely, the brunette stops struggling, and it takes a second to register to Myles that she is sniffing at her wrists. Hooking her ankle around one of the young woman's, Myles swipes the foot out from under her and the brunette goes crashing to the floor. She catches herself on the table, flinging an arm up and throwing Myles' back down on the table with one hand on her throat and the other on one of her wrists. The redhead drops the knife in her bleeding left hand, the wound stinging painfully from holding the weapon.
"Feisbona," the brunette sneers to her queen, and Myles kicks both of her legs up, one boot lands on the young woman's shoulder and she kicks the girl away from her. [AN: "Poison."]
"We could've been allies, Myles," Queen Nia asserts, wiping the blade off on a scrap piece of cloth and stepping to stand in front of the redhead still half lying across the table. The brunette is back in front of her now, and even though Myles hasn't moved, she leans across to lean both hands on her chest to keep her pinned to the wood. "But instead, I declare you and your people enemies of Azgeda. Ontari, hold out your hand." Ontari, the brunette, immediately obeys, and the Queen slices her palm open. "I'm letting you live, for now, to send a message to Lexa."
Queen Nia squeezes Ontari's bleeding hand above Myles' face, thick, warm black blood raining down on her skin. A Nightblood. How does she have a Nightblood?
"I have my own Natblida," Nia gleefully tells her, continuing to let the black blood spray all over the redhead's face. "And she will be the next commander." [AN: "Nightblood."]
Jasper and Titus poke and prod at the dried blood on her face, Titus in order to check its authenticity and Jasper out of sheer bewilderment. They've both heard stories of Nightbloods, people born with black blood, but they've never actually seen their blood. All of their commanders have always had Nightblood, a very rare genetic trait that only those destined to compete for the role of Heda have.
"Cool," Jasper huffs a laugh as Titus steps away, rubbing some of the dried liquid between his fingers.
"A commander from the Ice Nation," Titus grovels, walking over to the commander. "Now all of Nia's provocations make sense. And we played right into it."
"She knew you'd accept her challenge," Myles states, dread pumping through her veins. "If Roan doesn't kill you, she'll never stop until there's another Conclave."
"All the other Nightbloods are kids," Jasper remorsefully adds, catching Lexa's brown eyes as both best friends walk up to them. "They don't stand a chance against a fully grown and trained Azgeda warrior."
"It cannot be changed," the commander informs them, "goes back to the first commander. It's why when a Nightblood child is found, they're brought here to be trained fairly. Or supposed to be."
"Your legacy is no longer secure," a fretful Titus urgently warns, "there is still time to choose a champion. Wanheda is a great war-"
"You know I can't do that," Lexa snaps, walking past her Flamekeeper to cross the room.
"Heda – " the bald man tries again, unsuccessfully.
"Leave us," the commander booms out, her hard voice shaking the room.
Titus gives one last worried look to the two Arker's before turning on his heel and storming out of the room. Hazel eyes watch Lexa stop walking, staring at the wall across from her. The redhead's mind spins and whirs wildly, desperately playing through scenarios and thinking through what she could possibly do.
"Lexa," Jasper calls, walking up to the brunette and staring at her worriedly. "She's got you cornered."
"I can kill her," Myles blurts, and Jasper snaps his head to his best friend. "I can shoot her from a distance."
"No," the commander replies simply, not bothering to turn around and face the redhead.
"You are giving her exactly what she wants," the brown-haired teen raises his voice, his nerves getting the best of him.
"Only if I lose," Lexa counters harshly, turning around to face the teens. "I know you're just trying to help, but there's nothing you two can do here."
"I'm not going to just let you die," Myles bites out, watching the young woman walk even further away. "There are people here who need you."
"If that is to be my fate today," the commander declares, spinning around to look at the redhead. "You must. You're driven to fix everything for everyone, but you can't fix this. I have to do this on my own, and you two have to let me."
"What if we can't?" Jasper retorts, flinging his arms up. "What if we're tired of losing our friends? What if it's us that need you?"
Lexa doesn't say anything, her eyes flicking between the two best friends in front of her. Footsteps echo behind them, and the commander's eyes leave theirs for a moment as the repetitive sounds get closer and closer.
"Heda," Titus announces, his tone downtrodden and defeated. "Taim don kom op." [AN: "Commander. It's time."]
Myles' eyes slip shut and her shoulders drop at the words. They've run out of time.
"Then," Lexa proclaims softly, "this is goodbye. For now."
The commander marches down the strip of red carpet that lines from her throne to the door, walking through the doorway and out into the hall with Titus and the guards following her. Myles and Jasper both heave a heavy sigh, looking at each other in despair.
"We're so fucked," Myles whispers fearfully, "should I just kill the bitch, anyway?"
"No," her best friend breathes, pulling off his glove to lift his hand and lick his thumb to scrub off some of the dried black blood still covering Myles' delicate features. "We need to trust that she knows what she's doing."
Drums bang and people chatter noisily, the sound deafening. Myles and Jasper sit in the seats designated to Skaikru among the other clan delegates, Titus standing on the platform in front of them. On the concrete ground in front of the platform are Roan and Lexa, waiting for battle. Titus flings his arms up, holding his palms out and Myles' hazel eyes glance from him to Queen Nia sitting behind him as silence falls upon the Capitol.
Hundreds, if not thousands, of people stand in a large crowd around the two about to battle. Eager eyes flicking around quickly, trying to take it all in. When Myles turns her gaze back to what's happening in front of her, Jasper taps her leg.
"Nightbloods are on the right," the brown-haired teen mumbles quietly to her, and the redhead instantly snaps her head to search them out.
Sure enough, Aden sits among the seven Nightbloods Lexa had been training this morning, their worried gazes fearfully watching the commander and prince.
"Hashta soulou gonplei," Titus' loud voice bellows out for the crowd to hear, and Myles looks back to Lexa and Roan. "Bilaik won hedon noumou: du souda wan op deyon!" The crowd cheers loudly, and Titus lifts his hand to signal to the commander and Roan. "Yo na jomp in." [AN: "In single combat, there is but one rule: Someone must die today! You may begin."]
Titus sits down in the chair behind him, a huge drawing of the Trikru sigil on the tattered banner above him. Every other clan ambassador but Indra and Roan are in their seats with their symbols above their heads, lining the stage and watching with front row seats of the brutal battle that's about to begin.
Roan pulls a sword from the sheath a guard holds out to him, and the crowd cheers again. The prince looks at his mother scornfully, the white war paint accentuating his dark expression. Before the man turns away from the stage, he meets the redheads hazel eyes and quickly looks away again. Lexa marches over to a guard, handing him the shoulder piece with red velvet fabric raining down that she wears and yanks her own sword from him. The crowd screeches in excitement, and the commander meets the Arker's eyes with a reassuring nod.
The prince of Azgeda barrels towards Lexa, and she turns when he's only a second from her, catching his sword with hers. Sliding her sharp blade down his, the commander twists her whole body around and slices across Roan's back as he passes her. Roan is where Lexa stood now, looking up at Myles and Jasper's horrified and worried expressions before turning back to attack Lexa. The commander strikes with her blade three times; the Prince catching each one with his sword and matching her skilled and swift twirls and twists.
Lexa is pushing Roan back, his feet taking small steps backwards with each blow he catches, until his feet firmly plant on the ground. He catches the commander's blade that swipes up by slamming his down on top, and they're at a standstill. Roan's tall and strong muscles pushing down with all his might almost overpowers Lexa, forcing her arms to shake as she tries to push up against him. The commander falls to her knees, but her blade hasn't left his yet.
Roan's mouth moves with words too quiet and far away for the Arker's to hear from the stage, and Myles grips Jasper's hand tightly, earning a tight grip back. Suddenly, Lexa grips his blade with her hand, black blood spilling onto the concrete below them as she forces the weapon up. The handle of Lexa's sword catches the prince in the chin as his momentum slackens and hers doesn't, sending the man sprawling backwards while she flies back up to her feet. He catches himself when he stumbles, correcting his stance and swinging his sword to the commander.
The commander meets his strike and ducks down to avoid his second one, but his grip catches her bleeding hand. Roan's knee slams into Lexa's back, sending her dropping to the concrete. Myles clenches her jaw as Lexa swings her sword up only for the prince to smack her wrist down roughly. The sword clatters on the ground and Roan kicks it away when her hands reach for it again. On her hands and knees, the commander slams her fist into Roan's knee, bringing him down to the ground and gripping his head to slam her knee up and into his chin with a loud roar.
Snatching his sword from his falling form and quickly running to pick up hers, Lexa twirls them around menacingly in the air before taking on a battle stance. Staggering to his feet, Roan rushes up to a guard and punches him in the face to steal his spear. Doing his own spin tricks with the weapon, the two approach each other, their blood splattering in scattered drips all over the old white concrete. Swinging the blade end of the spear at Lexa's head with a guttural battle cry, the commander ducks down and rushes to the side to avoid the blow.
Lexa swings at him with both swords, spinning and twirling with each blow he catches to aid with her momentum. Roan backs up with each strike of the two swords, meeting them with his spear until his spear is caught between Lexa's two swords. They stay like that for a second, before he swipes his blade up one of hers, jerking it from her hand. The commander swipes at him with the other sword, but Roan catches it, knocking it from her hands as well.
In the corner of Myles' hazel eyes, Titus rises from his seat in panic as Roan kicks Lexa square in the chest. The force of the blow sends the young woman flying back a metre before she hits the concrete. Titus drops back into his seat, defeated, and Myles' hand starts to go numb from squeezing and being squeezed so hard. The screeching crowd becomes alight with shocked murmurs, everyone craning to get a view.
Roan stomps up to the young woman as she lay flat on her back, flicking his wrist to toss his spear up in the air and catch it again, pointing it at the commander. The prince puts the spear's blade to her neck before pulling it back up to jab it down into her throat. Lexa rolls away, the blade only catching a chunk of her long brown hair as it makes contact with the concrete. Swinging her legs around, Lexa catches Roan's knee and knocks him down onto his back.
They're both instantly scrambling to their feet, the Prince swiping his spear at the commander who ducks it completely. Roan stabs forward and Lexa catches it under her arm, slamming her fist into his arm to force him to drop his grip on the weapon. Turning the weapon on the prince, the commander slices into his leg and brings him to his knees before smashing the butt of the spear into the man's face.
When all that does is get his head dizzily smacked backwards, Lexa slams it into him again, this time up from under his chin. The force throws Roan back onto the ground, and the commander advances, standing over his fallen form and holding the blade end of the spear to his neck. Queen Nia stands from her seat.
"Gyon op!" Queen Nia's furious and gruff voice shrieks out, "taim yu wan op, taim yu nou na wan op kom Hainofa! Yu wan op kom bushhada!" [AN: "Get up! If you die, you don't die a Prince! You die a coward!"]
"Jok yu!" Myles screeches angrily, standing up and tearing her hand away from Jasper's. [AN: "Fuck you!"]
"Chit yu don biyo?" Ontari squawks, matching the redheads furiously screwed up delicate features and stepping around the back on the Queen's chair to approach the Arker's. [AN: "What did you say?"]
Jasper flies from his seat, his hands pulling at Myles to calm her down and keep her away from the brunettes aggressive advancing.
"Yu don sen ai-" the red-haired teen argues, before cutting herself off when she sees Queen Nia get pinned to her seat with a spear behind Ontari. [AN: "you heard m– "]
The crowd is in an immediate uproar, shocked screaming and cheering erupting deafeningly all around them. Ontari spins around, and the sight of her queen dead shakes her to her core, and Myles' hazel eyes search out Roan. He's still lying on the ground, but he's definitely not dead.
"The Queen is dead," Lexa announces loudly, looking down at Roan, "long live the King!"
"Long live the King!" The crowd repeats, the mantra being shouted at the top of everyone's lungs before it's quickly replaced with the repetitive chants of 'Heda!'
Lexa turns her head to the two Arker's, and they both nod in appreciation and admiration at the young woman, relief lightening their heavy bones.
Jasper slows the rover down when they reach the familiar tree with half of a branch cut off that sits in front of a boulder and a cluster of rocks. Coming to a complete stop in the pitch black woods, Jasper looks at Myles in the passenger seat before flicking the headlights off. The redhead has her distracted hazel eyes staring at the dense blackness of the night sky-cloaked forest and one of her hands reach back behind her seat to scratch absent-mindedly at Max's fur. Having to wait a few minutes to let his eyes adjust to the lack of light, Jasper decides to start another conversation with his best friend.
"What do you think he wants to talk about?" Jasper asks, reaching back to pat their small calico coloured dog.
"I don't know," Myles drawls out, rolling her head against the back of her seat to look at him through the darkness. "He either won the election this morning and is so excited he wants to share the news in person, right now, or something terrible has happened and he's so paranoid he doesn't want to say it over the radio."
"He did the code four times," the brown-haired teen recounts, "in a row. Is that like a super-secret-code?"
"If it is," his best friend shrugs one of her shoulders lazily, "I don't know it and I haven't figured it out yet. It's not a rule, rule number four is 'never say you're sorry, it's a sign of weakness'."
"I hope it's just he's excited," Jasper sighs, "we just got to go home a few hours ago." All he gets in reply is a tired hum, and he continues after a moment. "If he wants to talk about the Mount Weather memorial, I might blow it."
"After the week we've had," the redhead agrees, "I wouldn't blame you."
"And we still have to build an extension on the house," Jasper reminds her, earning an annoying whining sound that mimics a drawn out sob in return.
"Don't remind me," Myles whines, sliding down in the passenger seat. "I just wanna go home and sleep in my own bed."
"Ugh," the brown-haired teen grunts after starting to inch forward blind and hitting the brakes again. "It's not too late to go home."
"JJ," she whines through a halfhearted giggle, "yes it is. We're three minutes away from the spot."
"Fine," Jasper relents, inching the rover forward carefully again. "You know, we could still be home, in our beds, right now."
Reaching the hand scratching at Max's ears forward, Myles whacks at Jasper blindly and lazily. Her hand finds Max's kind and appreciative head, getting loving rubs and licks in thanks from the happy dog that missed them as much as they missed him. It's not too much longer when they approach the usual meeting spot, and Jasper comes to a stop once more.
Sighing, the two teens unbuckle themselves and Myles reaches up to turn the dull light on the ceiling of the rover on so they can see Marcus when they talk to him. Opening their doors and stepping out into the crisp and chilly late winter air, Myles scans her eyes around before stopping on movement to her right. Marcus Kane isn't the one to walk out of the shadows, however, but a massively relieved Clarke Griffin.
"Clarke," Myles greets with a smile, opening up her arms to hug the blonde when she rushes up to her.
"Aggie," Clarke breathes, tightly hugging the redhead back then embracing Jasper just as strongly. "Jasper, you both came."
"Sure did," Jasper confirms happily, both teens happy to see their friend again. "How're ya goin'?"
"You called us on the radio," Myles realises, some of the worried tension that had built up from the strange transmissions easing.
"Yeah, I did," the blonde admits, seeming shaken, but still relieved. "I'm hoping I can stay with you guys tonight."
"Of course," the brown-haired teen immediately accepts, a bright smile on his face. "Yeah, you're always welcome."
"Clarke," Myles presses, reaching a hand out and gently gripping her arm reassuringly. "What's wrong?"
"I can't be here," Clarke confesses quietly, shaking her head rapidly. "I can't be here. I'm scared to be here."
"Why?" Jasper enquires, the same overwhelming concern and fear the two girls vibrate with invading his senses. "What happened?"
"Pike," the blonde tells them, her voice thick with emotion, "Pike and everyone from Farm Station and, god, and Bellamy."
"Are they alright?" Myles frets, her red eyebrows furrowing deeply.
"Yes," Clarke corrects, "they're fine, everyone else isn't. They hate the grounders. They want them all dead. At the memorial today, Farm Station survivors threw a big rock at Lincoln and started beating him up."
"Oh, my god," Jasper and Myles echo, disgust twisting up their features.
"Bellamy is in on this?" Myles questions, disbelief screaming through in her tone.
"Not with hurting Lincoln," the blonde elaborates, "but he was just arrested with a whole army of Pike's men. They were trying to storm through the gate with automatic rifles to kill the peacekeeping army." Shock chills the two best friends to the bone, "they don't announce the winner of the election until the morning, but I don't know what good that'll do. Pike's racist influence is spreading like a disease, and I'm scared."
"We…" Myles starts, gently tugging their friend to the open passenger door. "We need to go to Lexa. The Ice Queen is dead, and Arkadia needs to be able to see that the threat is gone."
"Dead?" Clarke repeats in shock, "she's dead?"
"Long story," Jasper sighs, helping Myles lead the shaken girl to the rover. "Climb on up."
Clarke is just about to do as told when she freezes, her body going completely rigid under the two best friends' touch.
"Is that a dog?!"
"So," Myles sighs tiredly, looking at her clasped hands as she leans forward to rest her elbows on her knees. "What do we do now?"
"We take them the body," Lexa answers, standing from where she was sitting on the edge of her bed to walk around the room. "Show them the instigator is no longer a threat, and the King has pledged his allegiance to the Coalition."
"If it isn't enough?" Clarke pries, watching the commander with a look in her eyes the redhead has only ever seen in Bellamy Blake's.
"Then," the commander turns to her, "we will order a buffer zone, as done with Finn's time. Anyone outside of a certain distance will be subject to a kill order."
"And you don't want to punish them?" Myles checks reluctantly, "for trying to leave Arkadia with a war plan?"
"Did they?" Lexa counters, tearing her gaze from Clarke to glance at the redhead. "No act has been committed, and those with the intention are prisoners now. We will show them in the morning that there is nothing to fear, and let that be a gift of an easy start to leadership."
"Thank you," Clarke says sincerely, and the heaviness of her tone makes Jasper and Myles' eyes lock in intrigue.
"Thank you," Lexa repeats, "for backing me against your people."
Clarke steps forward, taking Lexa's bandaged hand, "sit down. Let me change that for you."
The commander sits down and Clarke grabs a towel before sitting down beside her and beginning to tend to her wounds.
"Ontari," Myles calls out, "what will happen to her now?"
"Nia's Nightblood?" Clarke verifies, unwinding the bandages on the commander's hand.
"She won't be back until the Conclave after my death," Lexa assures them, watching Clarke's gentle hands work.
"Geez," Jasper exclaims jokingly, "do you ever talk about anything else but your death?"
Lexa gives the teens a sad, knowing smile as the blonde tears off a new bandage and redresses the wound. The two girls keep giving each other quiet, meaningful looks and every time one of the best friends sees it, they lock eyes and make a face.