Clarke
Lia had found them new clothes. Clarke was conspicuous in her ostentatious dress, and Lia quickly went to work undoing her hair as well. "You must look like one of the common folk," she told her. Clarke nodded, but as Lia pulled her braids loose and scrubbed the makeup from her face, she couldn't help but think of Yana- when she ran, what would happen to the servant girl?
Octavia seemed to have no shyness about her body as she stripped down to her underwear and pulled on the clothes Lia had brought her. Clarke averted her eyes as soon as Octavia began to undress, and she couldn't help but think that the younger girl was probably more comfortable in leather and furs than she was in what she was wearing from the mountain anyway. Once Lia was done fussing with her, Clarke also got dressed, turning her back on the others for some semblance of privacy.
Once they were dressed, Lia pulled a leather roll from her clothes and unfolded it to reveal the same darts that Alek had used on Clarke time and time again. She couldn't help but have a visceral reaction, stepping back without even meaning to, feeling sick to her stomach with dread.
"These are not for you," Lia assured her.
"It's okay, Clarke," Octavia said gently, reaching out and squeezing her forearm. Clarke nodded her head, pulling in a deep breath to calm her nerves. She couldn't help but feel embarrassed, though she tried not to be.
Plucking a blue dart from its loop, Lia carefully opened one of the glass vials and dipped the sharp end inside, rolling it between her fingers until it was coated in the liquid. She pulled it out again and held it up to Octavia.
"You must be the one to put him to sleep," she told her. "He will surely kill Clarke, and he will no doubt force me to kill him if I attempt it." Octavia nodded and reached for the dart, but Lia moved it just out of her reach and said, "You must be careful to get it in the right place- it will only work properly if it is inserted correctly. The webbing between the fingers and toes is best, but I don't believe you will have much luck with that. Put it here." She reached up and lightly touched the dip between Octavia's shoulder and her neck, and Clarke watched Octavia cringe a little. She couldn't imagine how it must feel to be touched by the person who murdered Lincoln, but she knew Octavia would put all that aside- do anything- if it meant getting Bellamy out of here.
Octavia nodded her head and said, "No problem."
"Let us hope so," Lia answered, handing her the dart. "We will watch from the other room, and intervene if need be."
"Don't you dare," Octavia answered shortly. Looking at Clarke she said, "Don't you let her hurt him."
"It's okay," Clarke said gently, squeezing Octavia's shoulder. "I won't let anyone hurt him- I promise."
Seeming satisfied with this, Octavia went to the door while Lia and Clarke retreated to the adjoining room. Clarke saw Octavia enter and watched Bellamy's reaction- he seemed horrified, terribly distressed, that she was there. Even though Clarke couldn't hear what Octavia was saying, she saw her lips moving, saw her hands up as she gently approached him, like she was cajoling him, and she just hoped this went as well as their last encounter had.
"Why are you doing this?" she couldn't help but ask Lia while they waited.
"I have my reasons," Lia answered, not taking her eyes from the Blakes.
"Is it them?" Clarke pressed. "Something about the two of them- what is it?"
Lia looked at her and she frowned. "Why are you so eager to know my reasons? Is it not enough that I am helping you?"
"You murdered my friend," Clarke answered frankly. "I don't trust you."
If Lia was offended by that comment, she didn't show it. She turned her eyes back to the window, where Octavia could be seen getting closer to Bellamy where he was crouching, tearing at his hair. It was so hard for Clarke to see him like that- he was usually so strong, and what Elody had reduced him to… it made her so angry even to think of it- the destruction she'd caused in their lives.
Inside, Octavia finally made it to Bellamy's side and she dropped to her knees next to him. Even through the wall they could hear the horrible, gut-wrenching sounds Bellamy was making as his sister reached out and laid her hand on his head, stroking her fingers gently through his curls.
Lia said suddenly, interrupting Clarke's thoughts, "I have never seen anything like that. I have very little experience with love. Most of my assignments are short, and I have never been able to get to know anyone before this. If I was told to kill them… I don't think I would like that."
Clarke knew that her lack of experience was because most of her assignments involved murder, but she didn't say that, she just said, "But what about your own family?"
"I didn't have a family," Lia answered. "I was raised with other shadow children, and love was not important to our purpose." She kept watching as Bellamy stayed still, just letting Octavia comfort him, and she seemed totally fascinated by it. Finally she looked at Clarke and said, "You say that Lincoln was a Reaper, and you helped him overcome the drug… and Bellamy is a Reaper, and yet his love for his sister is stronger than the Red. I feel you are more valuable alive. Besides… you have missed your chance to do as the queen wishes. You were meant to be presented as the new Heda alongside the proof that the old one has fallen, and now that the clans know she is gone, they will assemble the conclave, and Lexa's keryon will already have been released. We may not have received word of it yet, but it will all be done. Your window to become Heda has closed."
"I don't understand what any of that means," Clarke said, confused, but also feeling something else- a tiny pull of guilt, like maybe she had missed an opportunity, fighting against becoming commander. But that thought scared her, so she pushed it aside.
"It is finished," Lia said, nodding towards the window. Octavia was cradling Bellamy in her arms, and he was obviously unconscious, a fleck of blue buried in his neck. "We must move quickly now."
Stepping into the cell, Clarke got her first close up look at Bellamy since he'd attacked her days before, and she couldn't help but notice how young he looked- freckles standing out on his pale skin, eyelids fluttering in disturbed sleep, hair tousled like a little boy's, curled into Octavia's lap as though he was her child.
"Help me get him up," Octavia said to Clarke.
"Wait," Lia stopped her before she could bend down, and from her belt she pulled out an injector, loaded with a vial of Red.
Alarmed, Clarke threw herself between Lia and the Blakes. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked, totally appalled.
"When we leave this building you will be an enemy of the Ice Nation," Lia said calmly. "We must travel far from here before it will be safe to stop, and without the drug, he will die. I will only give him a quarter dose every few hours- it will keep him alive."
Clarke hesitated, but she saw the logic to it- she remembered how quickly Lincoln had gone downhill, and if they had to flee then she wouldn't exactly have time to resuscitate him and treat him properly. Plus, there was still the problem that they didn't have a defibrillator or even a shock baton.
"Let me do it," she said finally.
"Clarke!" Octavia exclaimed, hugging Bellamy closer to her protectively. "Are you crazy? We want him off that drug, not having more of it."
"Trust me," Clarke said gently, holding her hand out for the injector. Reluctantly, Lia gave it to her, and Clarke crouched down to look into Octavia's eyes. "I wouldn't do this unless we had to," she assured her. "I wouldn't hurt Bellamy, you know that."
Octavia hesitated, looking down at Bellamy's face for a moment, before finally gritting her teeth and nodding. "Fine. Do it."
Clarke watched Bellamy's face for a moment, hardly believing she was going to dose him up with something so destructive, but she felt a lot better doing it herself than having Lia do it. The girl appeared to be helping her, but that didn't mean Clarke was going to trust her blindly, and she knew Octavia wouldn't.
Reaching out with her hand, Clarke laid her fingers gently against Bellamy's neck, feeling for his pulse. "It's erratic," she said, frowning.
"Yeah, his heart is beating funny," Octavia agreed. "I heard it before."
"It's part of the side effects of the Red," Lia volunteered. "Reapers don't live long. They usually suffer heart attacks after a few weeks, which is why the mountains always require more strong men."
Octavia paled, but Clarke said quickly, "Don't worry, that's not going to happen." She looked at Bellamy's sleeping face and said urgently to him, "Do you hear me?" She couldn't lose him, not now.
"Just do it so we can get out of here," Octavia said, leaning her face down and burying it in Bellamy's hair.
Clarke kept her fingers on his pulse and slid the injector into the other side of his neck, slowly depressing the activator. The Red began trickling through the needle, and at the same time she felt Bellamy's pulse gradually evening out. When it settled into a normal rhythm, she stopped injecting him, pulling the needle out.
"I do not think you gave him enough," Lia warned.
"Yes, I did," Clarke answered. "I gave him the bare minimum." She helped Octavia with him, supporting half the weight of his unconscious body by throwing his arm around her shoulder, Octavia doing the same thing on the other side.
Lia led them outside and down a narrow street to the back of another building. She seemed cautious and nervous, but no one came upon them. There were three horses waiting for them, and with great difficulty they managed to get Bellamy up onto the back of one, his body slumping forward over its neck.
"We need to tie him to it," Clarke said to Lia, steadying him with her hand. "Do you have any rope?"
"Don't worry about it," Octavia said, climbing up behind her brother and putting her arms under his, taking the reigns in her hands and letting him slump back into her chest. "Let's just get out of here."
Clarke and Lia mounted their own horses and Lia instructed them, "They will begin searching for us at dawn. Keep your heads down, follow me, and we may live to see the stars again."
Turning their horses east, they slipped quietly through the streets, out of the city, and into the gathering dawn.