Greetings again readers. I do hope you are enjoying the story. I appreciate the favorites and follows! Thanks so much for the support. Here is chapter 6 for your viewing pleasure. Please read and review!
A/N: Please note, if you haven't noticed already, the characters are slowly maturing emotionally. I wanted to show the process of growing up, of understanding yourself better as you get older with these books and I think you will be satisfied with the end-result. I do enjoy delving into character motivations as well as scene settings so I do hope you you've also enjoyed that. Thanks again!
Bellamy sat huddled against the low stone wall surrounding the garden to the north of the small farmhouse, watching closely as a girl drew water from their well. The rain had started to fall again, making a gray mist rise from the fields to roll across the landscape like a thin blanket. The trio had tied their horses up in a clearing off the road, making sure they were not visible from the road before they took off on foot toward the small farmstead. The squat stone and wood house sat in a shallow valley between corn fields, the last of their crop still swaying in the wind and rain as Bellamy looked onto the scene.
They'd been there, crouching, and watching since before the rain began to fall, staying low so as not to draw attention. They also noted that the father had only come out of the house once to feed the pigs that had been grunting and squealing ever since the rain started. It was starting to get dark and the overcast skies made it feel even later than it was, the cold winds of the north stinging their faces beneath their hoods.
"We should just approach on horses," Jon whispered, watching the girl carrying the buckets into the small home. "It'd look less suspicious."
"I agree," Landell said, motioning at the house. "We've been here almost an hour watching. If the son hasn't shown up already, he won't be here tonight; not in this rain."
"Let's go get the horses," Jon nodded, backing up from the stone wall slowly as a light came on in one of the small opaque windows.
Bellamy followed them, crouching uphill back toward the forest slowly. This rain would make it difficult to see them and Bellamy had waited long enough. Once they reached the tree line, the trio started jogging through the trees towards their horses. It wasn't far from the farm, but they needed to be sure that they wouldn't be spotted from the road. Once they'd reached the clearing, the horses huddled under the trees out of the rain as they grazed, they mounted up, heading for the road.
"We have to try and be diplomatic," Jon warned, glancing over at Bellamy as the horses navigated around tree trunks and roots. "No threats until it is absolutely necessary."
"I can't promise anything," Bellamy spat, his voice almost a growl.
"Quit being stupid," Jon replied, shaking his head as they approached the ditch just off the road. "Let us handle this. We have to try and convince him to tell us what he knows, and it can go wrong in so many ways."
The three of them pulled up on their reins, the horses slowly clopping down the steep hill, the riders emerging from the trees and up onto the dirt road. They spurred on the horses now, galloping toward the path that lead to the farmer's home. Once they pulled up, slowing to a trot as they entered the yard, they saw the door open, the older man standing on the threshold stiffly. Bellamy pulled up to a stop now, nodding down at the man politely.
"Evening friend," Jon said, motioning to Landell. "I presume you know who he is?"
"Mister Pike," the older man nodded, bowing his head slightly. "What brings you out this far so late?"
"I would be happy to divulge all details, and share a cup of ale with you, if you'd allow us to stable our horses here for a while," Landell replied, swinging his leg off the horse, Jon doing the same. "I'd be happy to pay for the privilege."
"No need," the man nodded, turning sideways and motioning into the home. A young man, dressed in his military flak and pants came to the door, bowing slightly. "Take their horses to the barn, feed n' water 'em."
"Many thanks," Jon said with a smile, Bellamy swinging off the horse and handing the reins to the waiting captain. He was older than Bellamy, but he didn't look it; his features were still smooth and his darting eyes pondered Bellamy's face. After he had walked away with their horses in tow, Koa offered them to come into his home. Landell went first, Jon and Bellamy following up behind him as the warmth of the small fireplace embraced them. The main room of the home was comfortable, a table with a bench and a comfortable rocking chair sat in front of the hearth. There was a woven rug on the floor, the shelves along the far wall holding all their cookery and supplies. It was dimly lit with only the blazing fire and a couple of small candles on the far wall casting shadows across the floor.
"Warm yourselves by the fire," Koa offered, motioning for his daughter, who Bellamy estimated was no older than fifteen, to take their cloaks. After their cloaks were put up, and the girl had put on a kettle, they all became comfortable. Bellamy stood in the corner near the fire, Jon and Landell taking a seat on the bench near the table as Koa sat in his rocking chair. The young girl watched them wall wearily, standing behind her father's chair stiffly.
"So," the older man began, sitting back in his chair. "What brings you out durin' this rain, Mister Pike?"
"My companions and I have come to proposition you," Landell motioned, looking over at Jon and then Bellamy. "But I don't think you've met them yet."
"Jon Murphy," Jon said, standing and extending his arm in greeting. The older man took his forearm, shaking it briefly before turning to Bellamy, who had offered his own arm.
"Bellamy Blake," he said, watching the older man's reaction closely. He took Bellamy's arm, shook it, and then turned back to Landell knowingly.
"I see," he nodded, glancing between them. "Then we best wait for my son to come back in."
"May we speak freely?" Landell asked, glancing at the girl standing behind her father.
"She knows," Koa said, the girl placing a hand on his shoulder. "So does my son."
"Then you know why we've come?" Jon asked, looking between the man and his daughter. "We're not here to cause trouble or harm you in any way. I'm sure you know how desperate the situation is."
At that moment the door swung open and the young captain came inside, shutting out the wind and the sound of falling rain. He was dripping wet, pulling off his flak jacket and hanging it on a notch near the door. He looked about the room slowly, the silence out of place as the group sat there in front of the fire.
"I knew someone would be approachin' me ever since we got news of the Griffin girls abduction," Koa explained, his son coming to stand next to him. The girl moved to the fire now where the kettle had started to hiss. She took it off carefully, taking it to the table to pour them all something warm to drink. "I just wasn't expectin' you." He looked up at Bellamy, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
"Dad," the son said, a mix of shock and reproach on his face. "Don't speak to them like that…"
"Your name, soldier?" Landell asked, looking up at young man.
"Kaeman," he replied, standing up straighter now, addressing his superior officer. "And I apologize for my father's crude words."
"No apology is needed," Landell assured, looking back at the older man. "We need your help, sir."
"So, I guess all we must settle on is a price," Jon suggested, looking between them.
"And if what if I'm not sellin'?" Koa questioned, making his son glance down at him.
"I would urge you to reconsider," Landell insisted, glancing at Bellamy. "We could offer you a manor house, land, and if you're interested, I can nominate you for a Guild Councilman position."
"You'd be willin' to give me, an obscure family famer, a position like that?" Koa asked, looking between the three of them. "That's only goin' to draw attention to who I really am."
"We could offer a promotion for your son," Jon pointed, looking over at the girl making tea. "And we can give you a larger farm, so your daughter and son will have some sort of security for when they have their own families."
"What kind of information ya' need?" he asked, looking back at the fire.
"We need to know everything that you remember about the fortress and the city," Jon replied, taking the ceramic cup that the girl offered him. After she'd handed out the cups, she stood by the fire, watching the three strangers wearily.
"It's been over twenty years since I've been there," Koa admitted, taking a sip of tea. "But you obviously don't understand Azgeda or its people. If ya' think ya' can get close to the capital, yer' crazy."
"Father," Kaeman warned again, stopping as Bellamy stepped forward.
"We have a plan," Bellamy replied, finally speaking. "We just need a basic layout of the fortress, numbers of guards, entrances and exits, and the layout of the city."
"Only," Koa laughed, cradling the drink in his lap. "Even if you have a plan, I doubt things are the same as they used ta' be. I was a guard durin' the reign of the former king so I doubt anything is the same."
"Any information you can remember would be helpful," Landell assured, grabbing his handheld. "Could you draw a map?"
"Aye," he nodded, looking up at his son. "Go, grab some parchment and charcoal pens."
"Thank you," Jon said, taking a drink of his tea as Koa's son went to the shelf to grab the supplies for his father. "It's been a long ride out here Mr. Natal. I was hoping we wouldn't leave empty-handed."
"My information will cost ya'," Koa assured, taking the parchment and pens. "I don't want a title or a manor home. I want more land, some gold, and I want you to help me smuggle my sister and her family into Arkadian territory."
"That's a tall order," Jon replied before Bellamy could become impatient. "You realize that's going to take a lot of planning. Are you in contact with your sister?"
"She lives in the capital," Koa replied, starting to roughly sketch an outline of a river. "Her husband passed almost ten years ago and her only will be turnin' twelve this year. She can shelter you in Azgeda."
"Do you have ways to contact her?" Landell asked skeptically, addressing the issue that all three of them were concerned with.
"I do," he affirmed, looking between them. "I've kept contact over the past ten years by sendin' letters. It's common in Azgeda for birds to act as messengers."
"How do you know your letters haven't been intercepted?" Jon asked, setting his cup back down.
"Our language is hard to master," Koa assured, looking over at his son. "And my sister n' I have used coded messages since we were children."
"We'll accept your offer," Bellamy spoke up, making Landell and Jon look over at him. "But understand, absolute secrecy isn't negotiable."
"Then we have a deal," Koa assured, looking down at the parchment in his lap. He continued sketching, the rest of the group remaining silent, the patter of rain on the thatch and wood roof the only sound other than the occasional pop of the fire in the hearth. Bellamy could feel the impatience building, the plan starting to form in his mind as he considered how to accommodate Koa's demands. There was a lot to be done, including rallying supporters for their petition. Bellamy didn't have a lot of time to cobble together this plan and with Lexa coming to Arkadia in a couple days, time was short.
Bellamy had to make sure that he had a solid plan, one she could agree to and assist in without endangering herself for the delegation. He also needed to make sure that the plan could be initiated without incident. Though they had a way to lay low in Azgeda now, the dangers were still overwhelming. Bellamy also had to consider how to convince Clarke to go along with the plan. He had considered not telling her about it at all. He could avoid seeing her, speaking to her, and it would be less likely that she'd resist. It could also swing the other way, making her difficult to persuade. Bellamy had to be careful and as he mulled over the options, the immense to-do list rattling around in his head, he noticed that steadily, Koa had been sketching an artfully detailed map.
Bellamy watched him now, the outline of a city wall forming as the charcoal markings became clearer. It looked as if the city was compact, smaller than Arkadia, with few large buildings. In fact, the largest building he could make out from where he was standing was the fortress that, if he was interpreting correctly, sat atop a cliff. That seemed to be even more difficult, sending his mind into a frenzy of options. He'd have to go over this map, in detail, and hope that not much had changed in the past 20 years.
"How many entrances to the city?" Bellamy finally asked, moving closer to look down at the map.
"Three," Koa assured, pointing at them in sequence. "To the north, south, and west. This is goin' to be the first challenge."
"How many guards at the gates? Which gate would a delegation use?" Bellamy asked, looking at the carefully planned streets that Koa had outlined.
"Most likely the southern gate," Koa nodded, motioning for Bellamy to take a closer look. "The southern gate is guarded by more sentries n' the road leads straight to the fortress. I'd say there are at least six guards at each entrance and an additional thirty patrolling the city daily."
"The fortress is atop a cliff?" Bellamy asked, looking at the rough shaded and etched details.
"A waterfall," Koa corrected pointing at a few poorly drawn lines. "There is a stairway and a bridge that leads you up the cliff n' over the river."
"And the fortress?" Bellamy asked as Koa handed him the map of the town.
The older man began sketching on a new sheet of parchment, Jon offering to pour Landell and the rest of them a drink from his flask. After passing out the new drinks, the teenage girl refusing the drink politely, Jon and Landell came to look over Bellamy's shoulder at the map he held.
"The fortress is three floors," he pointed, drawing four separate rectangles on the paper. "The lowest connects to the courtyard n' river. It's where the barracks n' dungeons are."
"Is the river crossable?" Jon asked, looking at the map. "Would it be possible to cross without being noticed?"
"Not from there," Koa replied, shaking his head as he kept sketching. "There r' four entrances to the fortress. Through the guard-house barracks n' dungeons, the kitchens, the main courtyard, n' the north passage."
"Which entrance would be easiest to get to without being spotted?" Bellamy asked, looking down at the map Koa was working on.
"The kitchens if ya' go at night," he replied, pointing at the kitchens that were in the lowest part of the fortress. "They lead between all the top floors but the one that is least patrolled is the north passage. That leads from the upper floors down to a set of passages set behind the kitchen. This is meant to be an evacuation tunnel…"
"Mark the passages on the map," Bellamy instructed, looking back at the first map. "It seems the city is small, so it will be hard to deviate from the plan."
"Security and patrols are probably tight," Landell offered, looking down at the map. "We'll need to do this all at once and be ready to flee through the south gate, or maybe west on the river until we can head out on foot."
"The royal family's chambers," Bellamy questioned, handing Jon the finished city map. "Where are those?"
"Top floor," Koa affirmed, taking a drink of the ale Jon had poured him earlier. "The top floor is for ambassadors, important guests, n' the royal family. There are almost a dozen rooms on the top floor including suites."
Bellamy only nodded, watching the older man as he sketched some more, putting in little details like hallways and stairs. Bellamy could see the fortress taking shape, the simple design focused around a large dining hall on the first floor. He had wondered if Clarke would be housed in the dungeons or on the top floor with the Azgeda royal family. He honestly wasn't sure what to expect, wondering if she wasn't freezing in a cell right now. The impatience that rose in his stomach turned uncomfortably as he pondered the different approaches they could take when they go there.
When Koa finally handed him the rough map of the fortress, Bellamy studied it closely, understanding the basic layout and functionality of the palatial floorplan. He contemplated it before handing it over to Jon and Landell, who had been looking it over next to him. Bellamy then turned on the older man, pulling a satchel from his cloak's inner pocket.
"This is for your silence," Bellamy said, handing the man the bag of coins. "You'll get the rest when Clarke is returned."
"And if you fail?" Koa asked, looking between the trio.
"I'll honor the terms," Landell assured, looking over at Koa with a nod. "We'll be bringing your sister and her child directly to you so be ready. We may have to hide them until we can get her the proper documentation."
"Where would they keep an important prisoner in the fortress?" Bellamy asked, glancing at the map.
"Depends on the prisoner," Koa replied, downing the rest of the ale and handing the cup back to his son. "But my guess is that they're holdin' her in one of the suites."
"Any traps we should be weary of?" Jon asked, rolling the first map up in his cloak.
"None that I'm aware of but there are usually several guards on duty throughout the day," he nodded, leaning back in the rocking chair. "Four patrollin' the perimeter of the grounds, two in the guard house, and at least three guards on each floor of the fortress."
"Tell your sister to meet us at the north passage, just outside the fortress walls, after sundown," Bellamy instructed, turning to Jon. "It'll be your job to get Clarke, and the others back to Arkadia."
"On what day?" Koa asked, looking between Bellamy and Jon.
"We don't' know how long it takes to get to Azgeda," Jon admitted, looking over at Landell cautiously.
"It'll take you five days, on foot, from the southern border," Koa informed them, motioning for his daughter to clean up the cups and kettle. "It would take you two days if ya' pushed the horses…"
"Tell her to watch out for us in seven days," Bellamy replied, looking back at Koa. "We may be longer than that so tell her to use a coded phrase when approaching people."
"She doesn't speak much English," Koa admitted, crossing his arms over his chest. "When ya' meet up with her, you need to let her know she can trust ya'."
"What English words does she know?" Landell asked, handing Jon the second map for storage.
"Basics, but that was years ago," Koa admitted. "We used to use a phrase as kids, when we were jokin' around."
"What was it?" Jon asked, rolling up the last map like the other, shoving it in his cloak.
"Over, under, out," Koa admitted, a slight smile hinted in his eyes. "It was a silly joke between us, but she will know it is you."
"Joke?" Jon asked, watching the man closely.
"We'd pretend we had radios, like you Arkadians have," Koa nodded. "We'd pretend to call one another over them n' that was the phrase we'd use."
"Tell her to keep an eye out for us," Bellamy assured, reaching out his arm to say farewell. "We've taken up too much of your time as it is."
"It's still pouring out," Koa offered, standing up from the chair to take Bellamy's arm. 'You could stay until it lets up."
"We have to get back," Bellamy urged, glancing out the small window at the storm. "We've got a lot of planning to do."
"Ya' took a risk comin' here for my help," Koa admitted, looking between the three of them. "I never thought I'd see the day that a Blake would go outta his way for a Griffin."
"Father,' his son warned, glancing at the trio of strangers.
"What have you heard?" Jon asked, looking between the son and father quizzically.
"Rumors," Kaeman replied, looking at Landell. "We've heard a lot of murmurs about what happened in the capital."
"What kind of rumors?" Landell questioned, the young captain standing a little straighter.
"The most popular is that Clarke Griffin had married Roan of Azgeda in secret and fled to the capital," Kaeman admitted, looking a bit apprehensive. "But no one can believe it."
"Why?" Bellamy asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
"Because, we also heard rumors that she was abducted," the captain hesitated, still standing at attention. "And we'd believe that above the rumor that she betrayed Arkadia."
"We?" Jon questioned, looking over at the girl sitting near the fire, her eyes darting between her brother and father.
"The soldiers," Kaeman corrected, placing a hand on the back of this father's chair. "We've heard rumors of the Griffin heiress before and most of the soldiers, and ranking officers, believe she would never betray Arkadia. It's…" he trailed off, a confused look coming over his face.
"Go on," Landell prompted, noticing Bellamy's confused expression.
"To be honest sir, it's not how we see her," he tried to explain, looking down at his sister.
"What he means to say," she piped up, making all eyes fall on her. "Is that Clarke Griffin has a reputation for being kind, gentle, and loyal. We don't believe she'd betray Arkadia and we don't believe she'd betray you, Bellamy Blake."
"I don't understand," Bellamy admitted, feeling completely dumbstruck. "Why wouldn't you believe that?"
"Rumors started spreading in the weeks before she was abducted," Kaeman explained, looking over at his sister with a slight smile. "It's a popular rumor, to be honest. A lot of our youngest recruits can be quite fantastical in their expectations."
"Don't act like you know everything, Kaeman," his sister retorted, looking a little cross. Bellamy couldn't help but be reminded of his own sister, her stubborn attitude a mirror image of the girl in front of him.
"Oh, will ya' two stop givin' 'em the run'round," Koa groaned, sitting back in the chair.
"You have to understand," Kaeman explained, shooting his sister a warning look. "The commoners out here on the farms don't have much to talk about so they can be a little fanatical, and fantastical, about news from the capital."
"Spit it out," Koa urged, a smirk forming on his face as Bellamy stared between them curiously.
"Is it true that you fell in love with one another?" the daughter finally asked, approaching Bellamy slowly. "We heard you'd been together, that you'd fallen for one another, and were going to get married. We were told she was expecting a baby and that you were already married."
The girl's words started running together, the excitement in her voice throwing all three of them off. It was only when she noticed that she was talking too quickly that she paused, a blush coming over her face.
"I'm sorry about my sister's fantasies," Kaeman sighed, looking at Landell. "Like I said, the kids can be quite creative."
The room was quiet for a moment before Jon started chuckling, clapping Bellamy on the shoulder with a wide grin. "Now that is something," he commented, looking over at the girl. "You and Clarke have become Arkadia's most popular story."
"I hope you aren't offended," the girl said meekly, looking at the floor. "It's just that- "
"Enough, Mia," Kaeman warned, shaking his head.
"No," Bellamy finally spoke, looking down at the girl. "What is it? Tell me."
"It's a miracle," Mia confirmed, squaring her shoulders. "It's a wonderful story and almost everyone talks about it. I don't know what is more exciting; the love or heroism."
"Heroism?" Jon chuckled, looking at Bellamy's bewildered face. "Look at that. I bet you didn't know so many people approved."
Bellamy heard Landell chuckle and noticed Koa grinning as well. He wasn't sure what to make of this, but the girl had stunned him into silence. Before he could register what he was doing, before he could honestly organize his thoughts, he stepped toward her and wrapped the girl in a hug, a grin forming on his face.
"Thanks," he said, pulling away from the blushing girl. He looked down at her with a genuine smile which made her blush even brighter. "I do love her."
"I k-knew it," the girl stammered, looking at the floor. "You have to save her…that's…"
"That's what?" Bellamy asked, stepping away from the stuttering teenager.
"That's how the story ends," Mia smiled, looking up at him defiantly.
Clarke sat at the table with Roan, the hour late as they looked over the party. They'd all eaten hours before and were, much to Clarke's enjoyment, watching a couple of Azgeda warriors fighting it out. They were mostly drunk, given blunted weapons to dual with as the hall became rowdy. Over the course of the banquet, speeches were given, gifts presented, and the drinks flowed until well after midnight. Clarke noticed that the servants had not only refilled the hearths twice but also had to roll in another barrel of ale as the feast drug on. Even the musicians had taken a break after they ate, the hall's rumbling conversations echoing about them.
It was late now, Nia excusing herself a short while after the final speeches with the old shaman, Zenvegen. Most people remained in the hall, drinking, talking, and gambling well after the feast. But now it was starting to die down, guests slowly disappearing to their rooms upstairs. When one of the dueling men had finally been defeated, the hall erupted with applause and shouts, making Clarke laugh heartily at the spectacle. She raised a glass to the victor and then to Roan, finishing her cup. That had to of been her fourth cup of the night and she felt the effects building. It was a lightweight feeling, her head swimming as she looked back over at Roan.
"It's getting late," he commented, looking up at Adrax, who was approaching with a drink in one hand and a chicken leg in the other. Roan nodded at him and the older man bowed back, turning to Clarke and smiling drunkenly.
"Princess," he said, bowing his head. "Might I have a quick word before the night ends?"
"Come," she said in broken Azgedaslang, making the older man grin. He nodded, coming to sit next to her in the empty chair that Rajnon had been in earlier.
"I wanted to speak to you both," he affirmed, turning to look at the couple in his chair as he motioned for his cup to be refilled. "Tell me, what are the prospects of an expedient marriage?"
"I don't think that's possible," Roan interjected before Clarke could respond, turning her head to him curiously. "The Queen Reagent has yet to set a date."
"The faster the better," he assured, smiling over at Clarke now. "I was here for 'is parent's weddin' feast, you know?"
"You were?" Clarke asked, curious to learn more.
"And I was just a child when 'is grandfather was crowned," Adrax nodded, throwing the chicken leg aside for the dogs that were prowling the hall looking for scraps. "And I'll be fortunate enough ta'witness your coronation before death takes me."
"So, you've been to the bleeding tree?" Clarke asked, hearing Roan go silent beside her. Adrax considered her a moment, his eyes hazy and distant before he laughed, slapping his hand on the table. Roan started laughing as well, making Clarke look between them curiously. "What?" she asked, feeling a little embarrassed in her drunken haze.
"Have some water," Roan offered, grabbing the pitcher from a passing servant and filling a fresh glass for her. Clarke took it slowly from him, eyeing both men curiously before taking a big drink.
"It's called Faedtri, princess," Adrax smiled, taking a drink of his freshly poured ale. "An' it's the place where all our monarchs are crowned." His words were slurring slightly and his Azgaedaslang accent had made Clarke pause, unsure of her drunken perception. She had to mull over what he said for a moment before responding, taking another quick drink of water.
"Do you believe in the prophecy?" Clarke asked, speaking slower.
"I do," Adrax responded, grinning at Roan. "But only the Gods know our fate."
"Perhaps we should speak sometime," Roan suggested, steering the conversation now. "I'd like to speak to you about a few things before you leave the capital."
"I'll be here a few more days," Adrax nodded, setting his cup now. He then smirked, glancing over at Roan through his bushy red eyebrows. "We should talk 'bout a few things before I return to Wisteria."
"I believe we should," Roan agreed, setting his own cup down. "But for now, I think it is best to get the princess to bed. It's been a long night."
"It has," Clarke smiled, turning to Adrax again. "I do hope I get the chance to speak to you again before you leave."
"You should come with Prince Roan," Adrax nodded, moving to stand. "I think that would be best."
"I'll come find you," Roan assured, nodding at Adrax as he bowed. Clarke looked between them quickly before nodding her head, watching as the older man sauntered off with his cup.
"Talk about what?" Clarke asked, looking up at Roan curiously.
"Come, let's go back to my rooms," he said, standing up next to her. He offered his arm and she took it, not realizing that she'd need the balance. She knew she had drank more than she intended but she didn't think she'd gotten drunk. However, as she stood up she had to grip onto Roan's arm, steadying herself gracefully.
"I drank too much," Clarke said to him, smiling at the banqueters who sat closest to their table, the duo passing by with a nod. "I may need some more water and something to eat."
"When we get to our rooms," Roan nodded, wrapping an arm around her waist, his other arm coming around to hold her forearm.
"I normally never get this drunk," Clarke said, blushing slightly. As they left the hall she could hear cheers, whispers, and whistles calling after them, her blush intensified at the suggestion.
"Let's just get you upstairs," he said softly, holding her up. When they approached the set of stairs leading up to the next floor, Clarke groaned, not realizing how daunting the climb would be in this state. Before she could even step onto the first stair, Roan had scooped her up in his arms, carrying her effortlessly up the flight. Once on the second floor he set her down, smirking at the fact that she was blushing and wobbling on the spot. "Here," he offered, wrapping his arm around her again, lifting her up so that he was supporting most of her body weight.
They'd made it up to his suite a few minutes later, Clarke relieved to see the fire burning in the hearth and the small table littered with pastries and fruits. She stepped away from him now, sitting unceremoniously on the couch as she popped a pastry into her mouth. She ate a few of them before pouring herself a large glass of water, drinking it quickly. She then blushed when she noticed Roan watching her, shaking her head with a grin.
"Sorry," she said through a mouthful of pastry.
"It's okay," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Did you enjoy yourself at least?"
"I did," she admitted, taking another drink from her water. "It was fun, a lot like our family gatherings back home. What was that game? The dice one?"
"We call it parzehn," Roan reminded her, noting the grin on her face. "It's such a simple game. You just need three six-sided dice."
"We should play sometime," Clarke nodded, eating another pastry.
"I was hoping you'd have fun," he smiled, pulling off the tunic and leather he'd been wearing, grabbing a simple linen tunic to put on instead. He then grabbed his loose velvet slacks, opening his solarium door. He had emerged only a few moments later, his boots and leather breeches replaced and a relieved look on his face.
Clarke offered him a pastry across the room and he chuckled, motioning for her to toss it toward his open mouth. She laughed, tossing one and missing as it went over his head. It hit the door behind him and fell to the floor, Roan bending over to chuck it back, laughing as it bounced off her shoulder.
"No fair," Clarke laughed, grabbing a fresh pastry and throwing it at his open mouth. This time he moved, catching it and chewing it victoriously.
"Good shot," Roan admitted, plopping down on the couch next to her.
She chuckled, leaning back with her cup of water, sipping it slowly as she pulled her legs up under her. They both sat there quietly now, the silence relaxing after the night of music and the humming of continuous conversation. Clarke felt completely relaxed, happy that she had Roan there with her. She didn't know how she would have gotten through that night without him.
She wasn't used to being presented with gifts, or meeting such important people, and she was keenly aware that she had been watched the whole time. She had felt Roan's hand on her arm many times that night, steadying her when she wasn't sure what to do. She couldn't thank him enough for walking her through the night and the more she thought about it, the more exciting the night had seemed to be. She was entertained by games of cards, dice, and drinking but she also enjoyed seeing Azgeda combat techniques up close. Clarke sighed happily now, making Roan look at her curiously. She only grinned back at him, drinking the rest of her water before setting the cup down on the table.
"I should thank you for tonight," Clarke nodded, leaning back against the couch again. "I was really nervous at first."
"I know," he replied, smiling down at her. "But you did great."
"You think?" she asked, leaning her head against his shoulder. "I 'm just glad you were there. I felt so out of place at first…"
"I would be surprised if you didn't," he confessed, glancing sideways at her. "But it is getting late. Did you still want to practice tomorrow?"
"Oh," Clarke breathed, tilting her head to look up at him. "I forgot."
"We don't' have to…"
"No," Clarke said, shaking her head. "No, I want to learn."
"Then you should get to bed," he chuckled, his warm breath rustling her hair. "Come on, to bed."
Clarke chuckled when he stood up, pulling her with him. She allowed him to help her to his room, not feeling as light-headed as she had a while ago. She felt tired though, her eyes feeling heavy like her limbs. He motioned for her to sit down, moving to the small fireplace to load some logs onto the hot coals. He then turned back toward the door, grabbing a shirt from the bureau for her. It was one of his tunics, a bit large for Clarke but she assumed that was the intent. He handed it to her, pulling her flats off as he knelt, making sure to set them to the side carefully.
"I'll see you in the morning," he said, nodding at her as he stood. "If you need anything wake me or pull the rope in the lift. Someone will answer…"
Clarke nodded sheepishly, pulling the tunic to her face and smelling it. It smelled like him, the musk of a campfire and the faint scent of pine and sage lingering about her. She smiled at this, making him eye her curiously before shaking his head with a grin.
"Good night Clarke," he mused, turning from her now. Before he could step away though her hand flew out to his wrist, stopping him from moving. She saw him turn toward her but everything else was a quick, but gentle, blur. She pulled him back toward her, his eyes full of curiosity as she reached out her other hand to place it against his cheek. She saw the circuits firing behind his eyes as she leaned in now, placing a tender kiss on his lips before pulling away, her eyes never leaving his.
"Good night, Roan," she whispered, her lips brushing his slightly before pulling away completely.
He nodded now, his bewilderment fading as he placed a hand on her cheek before turning around and leaving the room. Clarke watched him leave, her fingertips coming up to graze her lips as she sat there swimming in her thoughts. She didn't know why she did it, but the sensation was undeniable. She'd enjoyed it entirely too much, thinking of the banquet and how much fun she had next to Roan all night. There was something different, Clarke realizing that the mead had undoubtedly contributed to the decision to kiss him. However, she believed it was more than that and at first it frightened her but now, as she lay in bed with his tunic clutched to her chest, she realized it was trust. She trusted him entirely, realizing that for the first time that she appreciated and wanted his company.
Her head swam a little as she hastily unfastened the dress from her neck, pulling his tunic over her chilled skin. She then slid into the bed, wrapping herself in the furs and covers tightly. It was still cold, the fire burning low in the hearth of the chamber, making her shiver slightly. She was thankful Roan had loaded a few more logs on it, seeing the smoke rising as they caught fire. Clarke lay there a few more moments, contemplating Roan as she did so. It wasn't the best time to consider her thoughts, but she also knew that her feelings were quite raw when she drank. They came to the surface so freely when she was intoxicated, and she wondered if they would remain when she woke the next morning.
Clarke didn't know what to do; she felt so conflicted that it made her physically ill. She laid there under the furs in Roan's room, inhaling his distinctive scent, the mix of pine and smoke no longer unfamiliar. She had to approach this logically and consider what would be best for her, her family, friends, and the people of Arkadia. She knew Roan was right about his mother and sister. She knew that they would bring the entire coalition into a war of attrition to expand Azgeda's influence. They were willing to risk thousands of their own citizens and thousands of other innocent lives just to achieve it. Clarke couldn't fathom why, and it irritated her; how could a woman so strong be so short-sighted?
And what was it all for? Was that much bloodshed worth it? Clarke pondered Nia's reasoning, trying her best to wrap her head around such a wasteful plan. Nia was obviously discontent with Azgeda's position in the coalition and the lack of influence they had. She was also obviously offended that Arkadia had been accepted by the commander and his followers. But why would she be so angry? Why would she be so bent on destroying Arkadia and the coalition? Every time Clarke thought she had an answer, a new question seemed to pop up.
Was she that greedy? Did she herself want to be commander? Was she just doing this to gain power? What had happened to her to make her hate so potent? Clarke started becoming frustrated now, completely unhinged by the idea that the reasoning behind Nia's maneuvering was nonexistent. Was she just doing this for fun? To watch the rest of them squirm? There had to be more to it than that, but she couldn't understand. And what about Roya? Was Roan right? Did his sister want the crown? Is that what the two of them were working toward? With Roya on the throne, Azgeda would be drastically different. Clarke knew this but it all just seemed so pointless – all that effort for nothing but death and destruction. Clarke groaned out loud now, rolling over to look up at the ceiling.
Nia is greedy, power-hungry, and ruthless; she doesn't make a move that doesn't benefit Azgeda or herself. She obviously dislikes Roan, not wanting him to take her place on the throne. She's stalled the council and war chiefs more than once, so she must have a plan, but Clarke couldn't fathom what it was. Even if she did want Roya on the throne, passing over Roan was going to be difficult. It was his, by right, and the war chiefs and council would need convinced with more than just threats. She would need the alliance of all the war chiefs to set Roan aside and Clarke just couldn't see that happening. In Azgeda's long history, they'd never had a reigning Queen. Though Nia was technically the queen, and called herself that, she was only a reagent for Roan who should have been handed control years ago.
So, if the endgame was Roya being on the throne, it would only make sense that Nia would have to figure out a way to get rid of Roan. This made Clarke uneasy, grasping the warm furs around her tightly. The only way she could do that, to make sure Roan never ascended, was to kill him. He would rather die than give up his birthright and Clarke knew this. She knew he was just as stubborn as his mother and had a better claim than anyone else. Clarke could understand wanting Roya on the throne; for Nia, that made the most sense. Roya would be just as ruthless as her mother, going to war with the coalition and Arkadia immediately. She'd want the lands that Arkadia claimed from them almost 60 years ago and she would want a commander from Azgeda to head the coalition. She would manipulate the coalition and, if what she feared were true, Roya would completely destroy Arkadia.
Was that all they wanted? Was all this planning, all this bloodshed, just to destroy Arkadia? Clarke couldn't understand that reasoning at all. If anything, Azgeda had maintained their independence and monarchy because of Arkadia. It was the Arkadians who stressed cooperation and mutual respect. It was Arkadia who'd been consistently attacked by Azgeda raiders and forced to act. Why would Nia hate them so much? And why would she be willing to set her own son aside just to destroy a nation that wasn't even half the size of her own? There was something else to it and it frustrated Clarke to no end. She hated not being able to see the whole picture and it made her own decision much more difficult.
The conflict within her was overwhelming. What could she do? How could she honestly try to reason through her emotions when they were all over the place? The truth was difficult to face and the more she mulled over it, the muddier the water became. She had two paths before her and both were dangerous; she could lose her life in either scenario. She could go along with Roan's plans, marry him, help him overthrow his mother, and then take her place as Queen of Azgeda. If somehow that worked out for them, she'd be the most powerful woman in the coalition, even more so than Nia was now. She could protect Arkadia and bring the peace between their two nations that was desperately needed. She could fulfill the prophecy, should she and Roan have a son; this thought sent shivers down her spine, making the sensation under her skin streak wildly. She wanted him, she could feel it now, and it made her want to help him. After all, Azgeda was suffering; the people of this warlike nation had no notion of how farm to feed a population of over thirty thousand. Clarke had also noticed that their most advanced healers were barely qualified to handle serious injuries and the flu.
Clarke could do so much good in Azgeda and Roan himself was willing to protect both Azgeda and Arkadia with her. That was also another problem; Roan wasn't as frightening or unappealing as he had seemed the first time they met. In fact, Clarke had noticed herself slowly growing to care for him. She had felt the guilt welling in her chest every day, learning more and more about who he was and what kind of King he wanted to be. She even admitted that he was an attractive prospect for any girl to consider and she just happened to be lucky enough to catch his eye. He had been straight forward about caring for her which made her respect him even more. He was never one to sugar-coat his words and that was refreshing in this world of deceit and lies.
She also felt so at ease around him, as if she'd known him her whole life and it scared her. She wanted to protect him; she wanted to be a part of his world, something she never would have imagined a few weeks ago. It wasn't because of his physical appearance though. Clarke had to reiterate that over and over to herself which made her question her values; to say that Roan had a commanding prescience was an understatement. He positively exuded nobility and strength in everything he did. He did it even when he didn't intend to and it made Clarke think twice. She'd frequently catch herself thinking things like "Bellamy would never do that" or "Roan makes it look easy." She even felt admiration in the way he handled people – boldly, honestly, and directly. Again, she had to stop herself from comparing that part of him to Bellamy. In this, Bellamy was seriously out-classed.
He was also caring, something she was most surprised at. It wasn't a face of concern and he wasn't coerced into caring because of his title. He truly cared about the people of Azgeda and she also believed him when he said he had no interest in a conflict with Arkadia. Clarke could also, reluctantly, feel how much he cared about her – she didn't want to acknowledge it before but now she couldn't help it. He'd made it plain to her, from the start, that he'd been curious about her. It was only after they'd spent so much time together that she admitted that there was more to their relationship than friendship and respect. In fact, she was positive that she had unwittingly fallen for the prince who'd never once disrespected her with lies or deceit.
It was at that moment, in the dark of his room, that she'd fully realized her own feelings. The conflict that had been stirring in her seemed to calm whenever she thought of being with him. The guilt that she'd initially felt over being even remotely friendly to him seemed to fade by the day. It wasn't until this very moment that Clarke realized how much she truly cared for the Azgeda prince. She wanted to support him, to help him, but unbelievably, she also wanted to protect him. She almost laughed aloud at the thought; what could she do to protect the strongest man she'd ever met? She bit her lip now, guilt starting to wash over her again. There was more to it than just protecting and supporting him. The cold reality that Clarke realized was that she was selfish – she wanted his support too. She wanted to take the step that no other Arkadian had taken before. To be a queen in her own right was a tempting, almost intoxicating, notion.
Clarke's restless mind had now wandered in that guilt and she could clearly see a set of dark, sultry, eyes staring back at her. Bellamy had never been far from her thoughts, even when she was with Roan. The guilt became heavier in those moments when she should have been thinking only of Roan. Bellamy was always there with her and it frightened her to think that she didn't want to let that go. She was so selfish, desiring both Roan and Bellamy by her side. What kind of twisted love could she possibly have for either of them when she so frequently bounced between thoughts of both?
How could she so easily, and suddenly, consider loving another man? Was what she felt for Bellamy not real? Was it all temporary, a fantasy she'd allowed herself to believe? Or was Roan the fantasy? It all became so overwhelming and she couldn't help but whimper into the pillow as she lay there, thinking of how to rationally explain these feelings that she so clearly couldn't control. She couldn't blame herself, she knew that even if she didn't want to. Bellamy was the first man she'd ever loved, the first to make her consider that love and power could go together. He had opened her eyes with his rough and overbearing nature and it had unlocked the door for so much more. Before Bellamy she had never considered the sexual aspect of a relationship – she wasn't ignorant before him but after she had been awakened, she could never go back to sleep.
She had chosen him, above other suitable and better matched prospects, because of who he was. If she wanted stale, safe, and traditional she'd have chosen Wells or Landell. She had wanted Bellamy because of his sharp mind and undeniable brilliance when it came to politics. She had chosen him because, despite the safety of a like-minded match, she wanted to truly bring the two warring factions within Arkadia together. It was a selfish and shallow reason to choose a suitor, but it had bloomed into something she had never intended it to. The way he had slowly started to soften had melted Clarke's heart and though she tried to resist, she couldn't deny that there was something between them. The thought of never seeing him again, of never feeling his arms around her, made her heart ache. Even now, when she might be content to stay in Azgeda, she felt the loss keenly.
It wasn't just because she had chosen him first; there was something deeper there, something in the soul, that had bound them together. When she looked at him she felt warm, as if the sun itself were shining through him. She'd found herself challenged by him as well, his cunning nature and pride in who he was cutting down any preconceived notions of who she thought he was. He was passionate, dedicated, but above all he was loyal; Clarke couldn't help the way her stomach turned with guilt now. He was loyal, but she had so quickly, and so suddenly, abandoned him for the slight possibility of unrestrained power and influence. Clarke didn't know if she was being self-righteous or selfish when it came to their relationship. Could she really forget him, forget the connection they shared, for power? And if so, how was she any different than Nia?
"We've been working on the drone all night," Monty pointed, leading Bellamy, Jon, and Landell into his workshop, waving at Raven who was glued to a screen of code. "We've been able to improve control, picture quality, and we've also worked out a way to take infrared photos."
"What about the reach?" Bellamy asked, moving toward the table where many parts and tools were strewn.
"It's only ten kilometers," Monty sighed, turning to Raven. "But we are trying to outfit it with software so that it can be piloted from a handheld."
"We need more time," Raven piped up, waving at Wick as he came through the door. "Did you get the camera mount done?"
"Good to go," Wick nodded, noticing Bellamy and the others. He sat down at the table, grabbing one of the tools and the drone. "I'll mount it now."
"So, what did you find out?" Monty asked, turning from the engineer at the worktable.
"He's drawn us out a decent enough set of maps," Jon replied, pulling out the two rolled pieces of parchment, the corners damp from the journey. "We may have to draw them again."
"I can digitize them," Raven insisted, turning from the computer screen. She held out her hand, opening the map of the city slowly. "And the guards?"
"There will be many," Bellamy noted, pointing at the entrances to the city. "Each gate is guarded and there are patrols throughout the city. There are also two dozen guards within the fortress at all times."
"So, what's the plan?" Monty asked, taking the other map from Jon and looking at it closely.
"Where is Wells and Harper? They are going to want to be here for this," Bellamy replied, looking about the room.
"Wells is standing by and Harper said she'd be back," Monty waved, setting the map on an empty desk and spreading it out.
"Tell them to get here soon," Bellamy nodded, turning to Wick. "Sorry but we need to speak. Can you…"
"Gothca," Wick nodded, grabbing a few more tools and the drone. After he'd left the room, Bellamy turned to Raven. "We need Finn too… everyone needs to hear this."
"What about Octavia?" Jon asked, looking at Bellamy. "She's going to be pissed if you don't bring her in on this."
"She'll try and talk me out of it," Bellamy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "For now, tell everyone else to meet here. We have a lot to discuss."
It was a long morning, Wells, Finn, and Harper showing up a short while later. Bellamy had sat them all down, explained the predicament entirely, told them everything Koa had said, and explained their plans for the council. As he expected, Harper and Monty were hesitant, not wanting to upheave the council when war was so close. They also didn't like the idea of replacing their parents, the council being more of a burden than a privilege lately.
However, after a lot of persuasion and discussion about contingency plans, they were all in agreement. They would put the wheels in motion, pushing the guilds to draft a petition to be submitted to the military union. It took a while to flush out exact details, the sun rising and peaking before they had come to a complete agreement on the terms. They also discussed, much to Jon and Finn's displeasure, the infiltration of Azgeda.
It had already been past lunch, Jon complaining several times about how long the journey had already been. After Harper had some food sent up from the cafeteria below, making sure to meet the lowly cadet outside the doors, the discussion continued. They had agreed that their only chance was to disguise themselves among Lexa's delegation. Sending an ambassador openly amongst the Polis warriors would tip Azgeda off and put them on guard, even more than they already were. It also got rid of their advantage of surprise, something Bellamy was determined to hang on to.
If anyone knew they were planning this, it would put Clarke's life in danger. They discussed route options as well as who would go along. Bellamy and Jon insisted that they go and would not yield, Finn pressing his chance to go as well. Raven was uneasy about it but after some time, she realized it was only fair. Their three best were needed for such a dangerous mission and Finn was a useful tracker and swordsmen. They had sat most of the afternoon in discussion, debating the best way to approach Lexa about their plan and a fail-safe should she refuse to allow them to accompany her. Bellamy was not going to take no for an answer and he'd make her see it.
He also wanted to discuss with them what would happen after Clarke was back, what steps needed to be taken to assure that Arkadia remained stable and safe. Almost everyone disagreed that Bellamy should have to give up his seat, arguing that his status as a counselor would keep him safe in Azgeda. But Bellamy refused, determined to give the seat to Octavia who, he was sure, could take his place. She was learning quickly now, making Bellamy both proud and fearful. He also knew she would keep faith with Clarke, ending the feud between their families.
"I think we can all agree that we're taking an enormous risk," Bellamy announced, the group quieting down again. "But this is the plan and there is no turning back now."
"I have a final question," Raven interjected, making the group of teens look at her. "What happens when Clarke finds out about all of this? What happens when she refuses to leave you behind?"
"You have to promise me," Bellamy said, looking between them. "When she returns, when things are settled, you won't allow her to come after me. If she does, this will all be for nothing."
"She won't listen to us," Wells commented, a smirk on his face. "You know she won't and I know once Octavia learns the truth, she'll side with Clarke."
"Then you make them understand," Bellamy spat, the past two days weighing on him more heavily now. "You do everything in your power to stop them. I haven't gone through all this hell just to have her stubbornness and naivety ruin it all."
"We'll have to figure out a way to stop her," Finn offered, crossing his arms over his chest. He was propped up on the desk, his legs swinging deftly.
"I don't care if you have to drug her and lock her in her room," Bellamy pressed, his jaw squared in defiance. "Do not let her come after me."
"That's a problem for another time," Jon sighed, standing form the chair and stretching. "We've been at it non-stop for almost two days. We have a plan and Lexa will be here tomorrow."
"Let's all get some sleep," Harper nodded, placing a hand on Monty's slumping shoulders.
"It's up to all of you to get that petition passed," Bellamy reiterated, making most of them groan in acknowledgment.
"Get some sleep Bell," Jon urged, patting his shoulder as he walked past him. "The council knows Lexa is coming so it is likely they will send out a scouting team to escort her. Harper and Finn will join them and tomorrow we'll explain everything."
"We've planned for everything to go wrong," Wells nodded, standing up as well. "I'll speak to the guild masters and Landell and I will convince them tomorrow at the emergency meeting."
"Make sure you contact your brother," Bellamy urged, looking at Landell as he stretched in place.
"Bellamy," Raven groaned, placing a hand roughly on his shoulder. "Relax, we know what to do. Go get some sleep before you drive yourself insane."
"He's already driving us insane," Finn mumbled, a smirk on his face as he and Raven left the room, leaving Monty, Harper, and Bellamy alone in his workshop.
"I still don't like this plan," Monty sighed, looking up at Bellamy. "But if this is the way it has to be, I won't argue. I just hope you don't regret this."
"I'm leaving this to you," Bellamy sighed, looking out the window at the afternoon sun.
"Just get some sleep," Monty nodded, standing up and wrapping an arm around Harper. "You've got a long road ahead."
I hope you enjoyed it. I encourage you to favorite, follow, and review! It would be much appreciated. I do hope you enjoyed the maturation of the characters and the situations they find themselves in. I do find it very fun to write about these characters and try to capture their essence in ways that are natural to the plot and character's personality/archetype! Again, thanks so much all. Please review!