In the In-Between

by chrisbec

Season 4 of t100 Clarke watched Lexa die. Twice. But that won't stop her from finding a way back to her. And maybe in the meantime she will bother to save the world again. Octavia's angry & broken & doesn't know how to fix herself. Raven's brilliant & a better friend than anyone deserves. A story about stubborn women who make the world a better place. And my attempt to fix t100.

30. Chapter 30: Heda

30

Heda

OCTAVIA

Indra, Luna, Rashanna, Roddek, Turlino, Malika, Kane, and Miller all wait patiently for me as I awkwardly hobble to the stables to find a suitable horse. Despite multiple bandages and braces between them all, the leaders and their seconds are laughing and talking easily and the change in the atmosphere from last night to this morning is so dramatic that my head is only spinning faster. At this point, I don't think I can become any more confused than I already am. At this point, I don't think anything could surprise me.

But I'm wrong. Because my heart leaps in my chest at the sight of a chestnut brown horse's ass sticking out from the trough of oats and hay outside of the stables. Helios found his way 'home' during the night and except for a few shallow gashes in his sides and rump, he seems perfectly fine.

"Well... Well..." I say as I limp up to him. "If it isn't the big shit that abandoned me last night..."

He pulls his head from the trough, still mulling the oats around in his giant slobbery mouth, and gives me a look as if to say "Did you really expect me to stick around, with the crazy-ass lady with the fire-whip? You know... Lincoln never made me deal with shit like that..."

And I just run my fingers through his mane and take a deep breath as I saddle up to join the others.

"Sangedakru is no longer part of the Alliance. There is no Coalition." The woman's voice is hot and scratchy as if she carries some of her desert with her in the back of her throat. I glare at her as she glares at Clarke, and I feel the anger rising again. Her hair is lanker, her eyebrows thinner, her chin more pointed, but the yellows and oranges on her face and the fire in her eyes are the same, and all I see when I look at her is the woman with the whip. The charred flesh of my arm still radiates heat, as if the anger has taken hold there too.

Once again, I am standing between Indra and Luna in the circle of clans. And once again I am struggling against the anger. Inside my pocket I count and recount the ridges of Luna's shell with my thumb, reminding myself to breathe each time I start again. Fifteen, sixteen... Breathe... One, two. I want to drive my blade into this woman as badly as I wanted to end Ronto, so badly that I am itching again. But I fight the itch. I fight it. I fight it. I fight it. Because Clarke and Indra, and Kane and Luna and Rashanna... They are all here fighting for peace. And the last thing anyone needs is for me to fuck that up by spilling blood all over the chamber's floor AGAIN.

"That is precisely why we are gathered here today." Clarke answers, calm and cool in the face of the Sangedakru representative's hot glare. She hovers on the edge of Azgeda's delegated chair, as if unsure whether or not to claim it as her own. Bellamy stands silently beside her like an over-sized guard dog. And I try not to look at him. Fifteen, sixteen... Breathe... One, two.

"To reform the Coalition." Clarke continues. "And to reinstate all those who agree to it's terms of peace."

"And what?" The Sangedakru woman spits. "Become subject to a Sky-Rat commander?"

"I am not the Commander." Clarke retorts. "Nor do I have any intention of ever becoming Commander."

"And yet," The woman hisses. "All I hear from your lips are commands. Sangedakru has no interest in rejoining the Alliance or making peace with Skaikru."

"Under the terms of Azgeda's surrender," Clarke argues. "Azgeda and their allies..."

"Sangedakru agreed to no such terms." The woman interrupts. "I don't believe we were invited to the armistice. I suppose you were too busy murdering Azgeda's king to remember to issue the invitations."

"King Arlen attacked my clan." Clarke retorts. "His death was not murder. He was an unfortunate casualty of the war he began... The war he refused to end."

"You executed a nation's king without a trial. You shot him in cold blood in his own chambers."

"He would have killed us all." Clarke fires back. The woman's fiery glare is starting to melt Clarke's cool facade. I wonder if Clarke is starting to itch too.

"You mean he would have killed all of YOU... Trikru and Skaikru..." The woman spits the names as if they taste bad on her tongue. "And all those foolish enough to stand by their sides."

"No." Clarke answers, lowering her voice with a deep breath, fighting to keep her composure. "King Arlen would have killed all of Sangedakru as well. And all of Azgeda, Boudalan and Louwoda Kliron... Every clan on Azgeda's side, every clan on Skaikru's side, every clan on no side but their own. King Arlen refused to see reason."

"You had a gun to his head."

"King Arlen declared war on Skaikru." Indra cuts into the argument in her calm, yet commanding, voice. "His assassination was not a war crime, nor is it the topic of today's summit. There are far more pressing matters to be discussed than the demise of King Arlen." She turns her eyes from the Sangedakru representative to Clarke and gives her a firm nod.

"King Arlen would have condemned every man, woman, and child of the thirteen clans to death." Clarke continues, gleaning strength from Indra's calm. "There is a sickness coming. A sickness that does not care what color warpaint you streak your cheeks with. A sickness that cannot be battled by blade or bow, cannot be quelled by fire or ice."

Clarke pauses, rising to her feet to pace the chamber. "Commander Lexa," She continues, swallowing hard as if uttering the name causes her physical pain. "Formed the Alliance... United the clans... because she was wise enough to understand that regardless of which clan you call home, deep down, we are all just people trying to survive in a cruel world. Life is already harsh enough without us foolishly trying to slaughter one another. The world, itself, means to destroy us. And battling one another only aids it in its attempts. The sickness that is coming will not discriminate between Sangedakru and Skaikru, Azgeda and Trikru, Floudonkru or Delphikru. It will treat us all with the same cold indifference."

"What sickness do you speak of, Clarke kom Skaikru?" The ambassador from Yujleda asks.

"The earth is dying." Clarke answers, her voice is softer, smaller now. But it carries easily through the chamber. For once, everyone is listening. Even the Sangedakru representative, though still scowling, has her mouth shut. "Nuclear plants across the world are melting down as we speak, leaking increasing amounts of radiation into the surrounding environment. Within months, maybe weeks, Grounders from every clan will begin to show signs of radiation poisoning. It has already begun in Azgeda, which is positioned in the center of three of the largest failing plants. Within six months every Grounder, regardless of their clan name, will die of exposure to extreme levels of radiation. And there is only one solution. One way to survive... Skaikru has developed a serum, based on the original serum of the first commander Becca, who was Becca kom SKAIkru before she was Becca kom TRIkru. It is the serum that created the first Nightbloods."

"Lies." The Sangedakru woman opens her mouth again. She draws out the 's' of the word like a snake hissing, and again I am reminded of the serpent of fire that climbed my forearm. Though it is not aflame, a long, sleek whip dangles from this woman's hip too. And I long to wrap it around her neck until she cannot breathe. I long to set fire to its tip and watch the flames caress her skin. Fifteen, sixteen... Breathe... One, two. "Why should we believe a single word you say, Sky-Rat?"

Clarke pulls a blade from her own hip and for one, wild second I think she is about to run it through the Sangedakru woman. I think she is about to succumb to the itch, and I wonder if she will allow me to help her scratch it. But Clarke just holds the blade before her. I've never seen her hold a sword before. It looks awkward in her grip, as strange and unnatural as the rifle Indra once held in her arms. Clarke holds out the flat of her palm and runs the blade along a fresh wound, reopening it so that blood drips black as Luna's from her outstretched fingers.

The silence in the chamber is obliterated by gasps and murmurs.

"I am no Nightblood." Clarke calls out above the mutterings. "I was not born with black in my veins. Only two days ago I still bled red. But with the help of Luna kom Floudonkru, Skaikru has found a way to replicate the blood of the commanders... the blood of Becca. Nightserum is designed to combat the effects of radiation poisoning, and three doses of the serum is all it takes for the body to start manufacturing nightblood... Developing the ability to metabolize otherwise deadly levels of radiation. Skaikru is currently mass-producing the serum, and under the terms and conditions of the new Alliance, any clan who joins the Coalition will have the right to receive enough Nightserum for every member of their crew."

"The terms and conditions of the ALLIANCE?" The man in Boudalan's seat speaks for the first time in a deep, rocky voice. "You mean the terms and conditions of SKAIKRU. There can be no Coalition without a commander. And Boudalan will never answer to, let alone bow to, a Skaikru commander."

"Nor will Sangedakru!" The Sangedakru woman shouts.

"Like I said," Clarke answers, her voice low, but tinged with frustration. "I have no interest in being Commander. But I do agree that if the Alliance is to be successfully reformed, a new commander must be selected."

"SELECTED?" The Yujleda ambassador speaks, his voice a mixture of suspicion and interest.

"Of course, according to tradition, Luna kom Floudonkru has the greatest claim to the throne, being the only remaining natural-born Nightblood." Clarke answers. "However, as Luna has shown a past reluctance to accept her birthright, and because nightblood will soon no longer be a rare commodity, I propose that being a natural-born Nightblood no longer be considered a requirement for leadership. I propose the members of this council SELECT the next commander by vote."

The room breaks out in murmurs again, some clearly angry, most genuinely intrigued by the suggestion.

"The council cannot make such a decision without all of its representatives present." The Sangedakru ambassador shouts above the rest of the voices. "Azgeda must be given a say in such a matter."

"The king of Azgeda forfeited his right to a seat in this council along with his life." Clarke growls back. "I will stand for Azgeda until the next commander appoints a fitting leader from amongst its people."

"YOU have no..."

"Azgeda..." Turlino suddenly bellows over the scratchy hissing of the Sangedaku woman, effectively silencing the chamber with his gruff, intimidating voice. "Should count itself fortunate to be included in the reformation of the Alliance at all. As should Sangedakru, Boudalan, and Louwoda Kliron. The proposals offered by Clarke kom Skaikru are not only reasonable, they are merciful. Skaikru has no obligation to provide its remedy with those who call them enemy. Trishana seconds Skaikru's call for a fair election."

"As does Floudonkru." Luna speaks from beside me. "And as the last remaining natural-born Nightblood... the person with the greatest claim to the throne... I would like to nominate Indra kom Trikru as the next Commander of the Clans!"

The murmurs begin again, even louder than before. I scan the faces of the room. The woman from Sangedakru has her lip curled back so far I find myself checking her gums for fangs. Boudalan and Louwoda Kliron look confused. Most of the others seem as pleased with the suggestion as I am. Of course Indra should be the next commander. Of course, of course, of course.

But my eyes fall on Indra, sitting beside me, and she is frowning under the glares of every eye in the room, looking more confused than Boudalan and Louwoda Kliron combined.

"Skaikru seconds that nomination." Kane speaks for the first time, nearly shouting to be heard over the murmurs. "Indra kom Trikru is not only a fierce warrior, but she embodies each of the qualities in a commander that Commander Lexa kom Trikru valued: compassion, wisdom, and strength."

"Indra kom Trikru has experience in battle and in the Council's chambers." Rashanna adds to Kane's words. "She is a respected elder of her own clan, and has earned the respect of many amongst the peoples of other clans, mine included. Ingranrona will support the nomination of Indra kom Trikru."

"Trishana will also stand for Indra kom Trikru." Turlino belts out. "Indra kom Trikru served closesly under the command of Lexa kom Trikru, working for unity and peace between the clans."

"Azgeda will also back Indra kom Trikru." Clarke announces with a wide smile, and I realize that this has been her design from the beginning. "She is all of those things and more. But her greatest leadership quality is that, like Commander Lexa kom Trikru, Indra kom Trikru neither desires nor seeks power. Commander Lexa accepted the burdens of leadership out of a fierce love for her people and an insatiable desire for establishing peace and prosperity for all of her subjects, not only Trikru, but every clan. Indra kom Trikru shares that same love for her people and that same grand vision. And... You can see it written on her face... She understands that being Commander is an immense burden, a responsibility, a weight much heavier than a sash on the shoulder could ever show."

"Sangedakru will not stand for ANOTHER Trikru commander." The Sangedakru woman snarls. "It is time we cut down the TRUNKS at the roots, set fire to the forest. .." I do not like the way she looks at Indra or speaks to Indra or spits the title TRUNKS as if it's the dirtiest of curse words. The last man who spoke to Indra like this... Well... I nearly beheaded that Rockslinger.I could behead this woman. I could. I could. I could. And I am itching. Fifteen, I count, feeling my fingers shaking as they run over each ridge. Sixteen... Breathe... One, two.

"It is time we burn the woods..." The woman continues. "And build our strength on sand and stone. I nominate King Montu of Boudalan as next Commander."

The man with the deep, rocky voice rises to his feet. "I accept Yulmina kom Sangedakru's nomination. The strength of Boudalan has long been overlooked in the shadow of Azgeda. But as Commander, I would continue King Arlen of Azgeda's vision of strength and might. Peace is the dream of the foolish and the frail. Save the wisdom for the scholars and the compassion for the weak. The Coalition ought to have a commander who is strong and solid as rock, powerful and fierce as the North wind."

"Very well." Clarke answers. Her voice is polite and formal as she addresses Montu, but I can see the distaste on her face. "This is a fair election and you are entitled to your own nominations. We have five clans in support of Indra kom Trikru and two in support of Montu kom Boudalan..."

"Indra kom Trikru has yet to accept her nomination." The representative from Louwoda Kliron points out.

At his words, all eyes fall once again on Indra. Her gaze quickly grazes the faces of Luna and Clarke, Rashanna and Roddeck, Turlino and Malika and Kane, all wide-eyed, eager, expectant. And then, to my surprise, her eyes fall on me.

For one instant, we have stopped playing the game again, and I catch a glimpse of the insecurities in the strongest woman I have ever known. For one moment I see her lying, broken in her tent, wishing she had died with her warriors in Pike's massacre. For one moment I see her on her knees in the mud and ash of Ton DC weeping for her people. I see her lost and afraid. But then I see the warrior who left that tent, took up her sword, and stood by my side. I see the woman who straightened herself in her saddle and set her jaw. I see the immense courage and the unrelenting strength. And I know that Indra is strong.

And I see the woman who's opinion Lexa always valued. The woman whose opinion I value above all others. The woman who is a natural leader, who can inspire Archers and Riders and Arkers to stand with Trikru even against impossible odds. I see the woman who doesn't seek power or glory, but rather the prosperity of her people. And I know that Indra is wise.

And I see the woman who took me back after I chose Skaikru over Trikru at the mountain. The woman who took Lincoln back after he chose me over his people. The woman who still stands with Skaikru even after Pike's massacre. And I know that Indra is compassionate.

And I see the woman who once saw the strength in me and helped me find the courage within. And so I fix my eyes on hers and I nod because I see her strength and I long to help her find her courage within.

Indra sets her jaw and turns her eyes back to the rest of the room. "I accept Luna kom Floudonkru's nomination." She speaks and I feel my skin prickle into goosebumps at the resolve in her voice. "As commander, I would seek to continue working towards Commander Lexa kom Trikru's vision of peace and unity among the clans. I would seek the wisdom of a diverse council in which each clan has a voice... the compassion found in the peaceful camaraderie between clans, who are more than just allies, but also friends... And the strength in a unified people working together for the common good of every clan."

"Very well... Six clans in support of Indra kom Trikru." Clarke corrects her former statement, with an excited smile. "Two in favor of Montu kom Boudalan. What say the rest of you?" She turns to Podakru first.

The man puckers his lips thoughtfully, then gives Clarke a nod. "Podakru will support Indra kom Trikru."

"As will Ouskejonkru."

"Delfikru supports Indra kom Trikru as well."

"As does Yujleda."

"Louwoda Kliron?" Clarke asks, turning to the last delegate to cast a vote. The man wriggles his jaw, his gaze fluttering over the faces of each of the other leaders, lingering on Indra's dark eyes and on Yulmina's orange-yellow cheekbones.

"Louwoda Kliron will also support Indra kom Trikru." He finally says, a hint of bitter reluctance in his voice. And I can tell he is the type of calculating man who, rather than being driven by honor or loyalty, always chooses the side who can offer him the greatest chance of survival.

"Eleven of the thirteen clans have cast their votes in favor of Indra kom Trikru." Clarke announces to the room before stepping before Indra's chair. Clarke drops to her knees and lowers her head. "All hail Heda Indra kom Trikru!"

All around me people rise from their seats and drop to their knees before Indra. But Montu is still seated and Yulmina remains on her feet, glaring at Indra with the fire raging in her eyes. And before I realize it, I am moving. I am suddenly only inches from the woman's yellow-orange face. I am close enough to see the specks of yellow in her brown eyes. Close enough to smell the stench of dried sweat and blood on her.

"Bow to your commander." I growl. I begin to count the ridges, but my fingers are not clutching the shell any longer. They are wrapped around the cool steel of my blade.

"This TRUNK is no commander of mine." The woman snarls, spitting at the ground at Indra's feet.

I cannot fight the anger. I cannot fight the itch. I cannot fight it. I cannot.

I pull the blade from my back as the woman wraps her own hand around the handle of her whip. And I am not afraid as I rear back.

"Octavia kom Trikru!" Indra's voice is fierce, deep, commanding and I freeze at her icy tone. "Sheathe your weapon. There will be no blood shed in my chambers."

Every eye in the chamber is on me, and I struggle to breath under the glares. Yulmina's ugly yellow teeth are still bared and I am still itching.

"Sheathe your blade." Indra repeats, and it takes every ounce of my strength to follow the order. I sheathe the sword, step back from the center of the circle. But the eyes still follow me. I dig into my pocket and find the shell in my shaky fingers. One, I count, closing my eyes. Two, Three.

"Sangedakru refuses to acknowledge the legitimacy of Indra kom Trikru as its Commander." Yulmina hisses. "Sangedakru will answer to no commander but its own. We shall have no part in this Coalition of the weak."

"You would forfeit Sangedakru's right to the Nightserum..." Clarke argues even as Turlino speaks.

"Sangedakru cannot stand against the might of the Alliance, even with Boudalan at its side. If the sickness does not claim you first, the Alliance of the eleven clans will end you."

"That's enough!" Indra speaks, and once again I am amazed at the power in her voice. Of course she should be Commander. Of course, of course, of course.

"As Commander of the Alliance, I will neither coerce nor martially force any clan into the Coalition who does not wish to join. Nor will any such clan me met with hostility or aggression from members of the Alliance. For generations, our peoples have valued justice and revenge above all else. But before Commander Lexa died, she was working to usher in a new era... A new age of peace. And her last command was that 'blood must not have blood.' Perhaps instead of revenge, judgment, and justice, it is time we embrace mercy and a chance for restoration."

The reactions to Indra's words are varied, and I know that the concept of 'blood must have blood' is deeply ingrained in these people, as deeply rooted as the anger is in me. And I cannot see how Indra has any hope of changing that. But Luna, Clarke, Rashanna, Kane... Even Turlino and the man from Podakru... They are all looking at Indra with admiration in their eyes, and the glimmer of hope. And even those who scowl at her words hold their tongues in her presence.

"This summit will meet again in one week's time." She continues, pacing the room with her hands clasped behind her back, and I notice she is no longer limping from the wounds of her crucifixion. She stands proud and erect. "Any clan who chooses to join will receive access to Skaikru's serum as well as the promises of peace, fair trade and commerce between clans, and the defense and aid of its allies in times of need. Any clan who does not join will forfeit these rights along with their seat in this council. However, the clan will not be met with hostility unless it is foolish enough to attack a member of the Alliance... In which case they will be met with the full force of a vast unified people, marching as one in defense of their fellow brothers and sisters."

"Furthermore..." She continues. "A nation's refusal to join the Coalition will not automatically disqualify its people from receiving Skaikru's serum. Trikru will not turn a blind eye to any person who comes peacefully seeking Skaikru's remedy or Trikru's refuge, regardless of their Clan's political stance. It is time we consider every man, woman, and child as inherently worthy of life and peace as long as they do not seek to destroy either."

"As for Azgeda... The tyranny of Queen Nia and her line has been cut off. And, pending her acceptance of the position, I hereby appoint Atawa kom Azgeda as the new queen. May her reign be long and prosperous. And let it be known that any forces who attempt to usurp her throne will be met with the full might of the Coalition."

"Clans wishing to join the Coalition shall conduct a census of their people to report at the next summit in one week's time. Once sufficient quantities of the Skaikru serum have been produced, the serum will be delivered to each clan's leader to be distributed and administered by its healers. The order in which clans will receive the serum will be determined according to most immediate need and highest levels of exposure. But in time, every citizen will receive the cure. No one shall be forgotten, neglected, or overlooked. Until then, health and prosperity be with you all. I hereby call this meeting adjourned."

Before she has finished the words, already Yulmina is storming through the chamber doors, Montu close at her heels. And I long to follow them, because I am still itching. And the anger still burns. And I wish Indra had punished them for their disrespect. I wish she had not stopped me from making blood flow from the sand. But Indra is wise and Indra is compassionate.

The air in the chamber is suddenly light, peaceful, friendly. But I am still struggling to breathe. The other ambassadors move to greet one another and to offer their congratulations to Indra. I see Clarke and Luna laughing in one corner like old friends. I know I could join them. They would welcome me. So would Malika and Turlino and the man from Podakru. So would Kane and Miller and Rashanna and Roddek. I could move to join any of them. Yet, I stay where I am, feeling very much alone.

"Octavia!" Bellamy calls to me from behind. And I long to turn to him. I long to feel his arms wrap tightly around me.

"Leave me alone." Is all I say as I step away from him and move to the chamber's exit. And for once in my life, Bellamy makes no attempt to follow me.

I wait by the horses, running my fingers through Helios's mane with one hand, and tracing the edges of the shell with the other. And I feel the desperation building in me again. Because the storm has passed and I am still alive... Indra is Commander... And Clarke has saved the world again... and I should be full of joy and relief and a feeling of peace. But still I feel the emptiness and the anger and the loneliness. Because Lincoln is still gone. And I am still broken.

And I hold it all in as I smile at Rashanna and Roddek and bid them, "Smooth riding." And I hold it all in as I clasp hands with Turlino and Malika and wish for the light to guide them. And I hold it all in as I give perfunctory hugs to Kane and Clarke and Miller and recite the words "May we meet again," while avoiding Bellamy's eyes. And I hold it all in until she finally appears walking side-by-side with Indra.

And now I am choking back the tears and I am trying to play the game. But the desperation is rising and rising and rising. And my voice cracks as I call out to her.

"Luna!"

"Octavia kom Trikru..." She responds, and I can see in her eyes that she already knows I have been waiting and waiting and waiting for her. Because she knows I am broken. And she knows I can't fix myself. And beside her, Indra turns away and pretends to busy herself with Cedar's saddle. Because Indra knows I am broken. And Indra knows I can't fix myself. And there is no point in playing the game anymore.

"You have to teach me, Luna." I plead, and I cannot stop the tears from falling. "You have to teach me how..."

"Octavia..." Luna cuts me off with a sad smile. "I can't teach you how to forgive. The power to forgive is something every person has to find on their own, within themselves. But the power is inside of you, Octavia."

She lifts her hand and for an instant I fear she will put it on my shoulder again. And I feel myself cringe because the weight of another hand on my shoulder might just finally break me entirely. But she reaches out and puts her hand against the space above my heart. The place of sheer pain. The place of numb emptiness.

"You have so much good inside of you, Octavia." Luna says, softly. "You just have to stop fighting it. Learning to forgive is the hardest thing you will ever have to do. It may take you years to master it. But I'll tell you what, kid..." She pauses to let out a small chuckle. "Just WANTING... WANTING to forgive is half the battle."

She lets her hand fall and moves past me as I lift my own hand to my face. Because the tears are still falling. And I am still broken. And I still do not know how the hell to fix myself. And I wipe bitterly at my eyes and I turn to watch her go. But already she has disappeared as quickly and silently and mysteriously as she always appears.