Discover Top Posts Tagged with #queen-swagzilla

Ruthlessly Alive, Chapter 8

Read it on Ao3

The rest of the day went well, at least from the Grounders’ standpoint. Everyone made it through training with no more than bumps and bruises. Raven and Monty had started planning how they were going to take apart the Dropship, and Wells had been coming and going to chat about materials collection. Miller had been listening to the Trikru contingent’s concerns regarding their weaknesses against the Mountain Men all day, and Syl had started her disgusting fecal purification project with Jasper.

To Clarke’s chagrin, her ‘council’ had also plotted with Octavia and Murphy to give her some alone time with Bellamy. Now they were eating dinner alone in the Dropship with fucking candles (where had they even found those?) and Clarke didn’t know what to say.

“Are you ready for the first courtship ritual?” He asked, breaking their silence. She blushed and nodded.

“Octavia said that I should harm you as severely as I could, as long as I knew that I could fix you.” She uttered. He looked surprised, but nodded.

“Yes, that’s ideal. I didn’t want you to worry about it too much. That’s why I suggested the cuts across the palm.” He replied slowly. “Did you have something else in mind?”

She swallowed nervously. “I did. I wanted to run it by Octavia first. I want them to know I’m taking this seriously, but I don’t want your people to think that I’m actually trying to kill you.”

“You can run it by me, if you’d like.” He offered. “That way I’ll know what to expect and I won’t panic.”

“There isn’t a rule about that?”

“There isn’t. And people will be impressed that you’re committed to doing things our way.” He smiled. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, so Clarke figured he was anxious to hear what she had planned.

“Okay…I was going to poison you, stab you, then suffocate you.” She grimaced. It felt like a strange sentence to say without malice. His eyes widened.

“I would leave the suffocation out.” He suggested after a pregnant pause. “It’s one of those things that you can’t help but react too. If you’re being strangled, suffocated, or drowned, you struggle.”

Clarke nodded quickly. “But the other two are fine?”

He nodded hesitantly. “I’ll be uncomfortable for a while, but ideally this will prevent any immediate wars, so I don’t need to be my best.” He shot her a somewhat pained smile. “Not that I’m excited by the idea of being stabbed, but it’ll certainly show your skill and commitment.”

She exhaled gratefully. “I’m not exactly thrilled by the idea either.” She admitted. “Stabbing you after everything you’ve done for us seems rude.”

“Well at least you’re stabbing me in the name of partnership.” He replied wryly. She let out a surprised laugh. “I’ll be fine. I’ve been stabbed before. Just pick a spot that won’t cause lasting damage.” She nodded, but was a little stuck on—

“You’ve been stabbed before?” She asked, worry creasing her brow.

He grimaced and nodded, pulling up his shirt to reveal a puckered scar on his abdomen. Of course, it was surrounded by other scars that were clearly from slashes, hacking and a multitude of other skin-breaking events, but the stab was distinct. “Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim.” He reminded her quietly. “It hurt, but it healed and I kept going.”

“What happened?” She couldn’t help the curiosity. Slashes and hacks were common in battle—she’d healed a number of them herself. But stabbing…you had to get close to stab someone. They were less common from what she’d seen of Grounder warfare. He pursed his lips and looked pained, and she backtracked. “Of course, you don’t have to tell me. That was invasive, I’m—“ He held up a hand to cut her off.

“I hope we’ll be the type of partnership that is comfortable with sharing more than just political aspirations, but personal information as well. This was…it was a betrayal, and the result of my refusal to see past my own hope.” The set of his mouth was grim. “A while ago…was it four years? I loved someone. She was from the Yujleda clan, and had come to Baltim to trade. Well, she told us she’d come to Baltim to trade. We invited them to stay in our home when they visited, first as a diplomatic gesture. Eventually, we’d warmed to them, and I looked forward to their visits. She brought me things she knew I’d like—books, fine furs, unique weapons. Her stays grew longer and I fell for her. I was planning to ask her to marry me.” He looked down at his hands. Clarke reached over, and laced her fingers with his. He remained hunched, but she could see the rigid lines relaxing.

“Murphy discovered what was happening. Our relationship was not always…well, we used to hate each other.” Clarke’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I kept him at arms length when he first came to my service. But then he overheard a conversation outside the city gates while he was patrolling. It was Ilena, speaking with a messenger from her clan. She was telling them that she needed more time—that she hadn’t secured my interest. That their army couldn’t make a move until she was in a seat of power.” His voice was gaining bitterness as he spoke, and Clarke drew her thumb in circles on his hand to soothe him. “He’s usually quite good at staying silent, but it’s hard to mask footsteps in the dead of night. He ran, deciding to bring the news as close to me as possible. Tried to tell me, or at the very least Octavia what he’d heard. But she heard him and went after him. She was quite skilled and very fast.”

“Once he noticed that he was being followed, he started bellowing for Octavia. He knew I was asleep all the way across Baltim, but Octavia’s home was close so he ran for it. He didn’t get to her—she tripped him up and stabbed him. Then she came for me. Luckily, one of the guards had heard the ruckus, and found Murphy, who told him to get Octavia and tell her what Ilena was planning. He did, and Octavia made it to me just minutes after I’d let her into my room. She told me what the guard told her and what had happened to Murphy, insisting that Ilena was some sort of spy for her people. I wouldn’t hear it. I loved her. I didn’t want to think she would betray me like that, but then Ilena turned and stabbed me. Octavia slashed her throat before she could escape.”

“Bellamy…” Clarke murmured, heartbroken and outraged for him. “I’m so sorry.” She honestly didn’t know what else to say. How do you respond to something like that?

He smiled softly, tinged with sadness. “It was difficult. But I had Octavia, and I gained Murphy. I survived, I healed and I learned.”

She continued to stroke his hand with her thumb, lip caught between her teeth and an ugly mixture of sadness, concern and anxiety welling up inside her. He’d told her something so personal and so devastating, and it didn’t seem like enough to offer shallow comfort. He wanted to share personal information? She could do that.

“You know how I said that I didn’t belong to anyone?” She asked hesitantly. He immediately stiffened, grip tightening around her fingers and eyes hardening. “No, that’s not what…no.” She huffed frustrated, squeezing his hand gently. “I don’t belong to anyone, that’s still true. But a week after we landed, I thought I might end up with one of my people.” She admitted. He relaxed, but still eyed her warily. “Finn.” He didn’t tense again, but he did frown.

“Finn is with Raven. That’s what you said.” He reminded her, a soft warning making it’s way into his voice. She nodded, dropping her eyes.

“He was so fascinated by everything he found and helpful when everyone else was being useless. He stood up for me and told me when he was scared and let me do the same. When our wristbands failed he felt helpless and alone, and I told him he wasn’t. He had taken me to this small bunker where we’d scavenged supplies before, and in the heat of the moment we just…latched onto each other. For three days we were all soft smiles and long talks and steady trust. Then Raven, the most amazing, intelligent, and devoted woman in the universe, built herself a dropship from the shittiest materials on the Ark, risked being blown up on re-entry, and threw herself through space in a tin can to get to him. Because she had been with him for years on the Ark.” She swallowed, voice wavering.

“He hadn’t mentioned her to me once, and she was so thrilled to see him alive. And then she was excited to meet me because my mom had helped her get the materials she needed to build her pod. And he went back to her—of course he went back to her, she’s amazing—but he didn’t say a word about what had happened, and I was shamed into keeping it from her. In the meantime, he kept on leaving me little gifts and following me around, trying to talk and make me feel better or get me back even when he was with her. He was unfaithful because he thought she was going to die, and I could have forgiven that. But then he withheld the truth and kept pursuing me and it made me feel filthy and ashamed. That one thing you only talk about in whispers because everyone would hate you if you said it out loud.”

It was his turn now, and he was softly stroking the back of Clarke’s hand. His hands were rough and warm, and they completely enveloped hers. “You couldn’t have known.” He murmured.

“But I could have told her when I found out.” She whispered. “I didn’t. She found out on her own. Found one of the gifts he left me and confronted me. I’m lucky, because she might be hot-headed and ruthless, but she doesn’t blame me. Somehow, she ended up as one of the people I trust the most. But now, because he’s close to Raven and what he’s done with me, he’s everywhere. And he’s smart, and he’s a pacifist, so sometimes his input is valid, but sometimes it’s like he has a claim on me and feels entitled to sway my decisions.”

“He doesn’t.” Bellamy replied confidently. “If he ever did, he doesn’t anymore. Anything you may feel guilty about, anything he feels you owe him? It was repaid in full when you agreed to this alliance. Beyond that, it’s not his society to influence anymore.” He reminded her.

Her eyes shot to his, suddenly anxious. “What do you mean?”

“Not that your people won’t be part of our peoples’ voices.” He assured her. “But we have a monarchy. We have a government. You and I will pick our advisors, and decide what we listen to. When there were just a hundred of you, his voice was far louder. In a month, you’ll be a queen to thousands, and take many more peoples’ needs into consideration. You’ve earned the right to not listen if you find his input invaluable. You can trust that whichever advisors you choose will tell you if you need to reconsider. Whatever power you think he took from you is back in your hands.” He smiled gently. She felt tension draining from her, and felt the need to be closer. He flashed her a confused look when she stood, but then she settled herself in his lap, his hand still clutched in hers. He brought his free hand to her hip to steady her.

“Thank you, Bellamy.” She placed her hand on his chest. “Thank you for giving us this chance. Thank you for being so good to me. Doing so much to make me feel comfortable.”

He let his eyes roam over her face. “You make it easy to care for you.” He admitted. She flushed under his gaze, and his eyes darkened in return. “Clarke.” Her eyes flicked down to his lips, then back to his eyes. He acquiesced, leaning up to brush his lips over hers. “I want to take this at your pace, Princess.” He whispered against her mouth. “You’re giving so much of yourself to this alliance, I want to at least have our relationship feel like it’s yours.” She melted, sealing her mouth to his firmly.

His answering groan was sinful. Suddenly, Clarke found herself surrounded by him, and utterly electrified. His hand gripped her hip harder, squeezing into the supple flesh. He sucked her bottom lip and nipped it—sharp flashes of teeth followed by soothing swipes of tongue.

Before long, their entwined hands separated so that she could thread her hands in his hair, and he could run his newly freed hand up her back, drawing her closer. She moaned into his mouth when he dropped his hand from her hip to squeeze her ass, and the sound seemed to ignite him. He repositioned her effortlessly, swinging her leg over his lap so that she was straddling him before pulling away from her searching mouth to drop his lips to her jaw; grazing his teeth over her mandible, then nipping her ear, then leaving hot, open mouthed kisses and blunted bites down her neck. He reveled in the sounds she made—low, sweet, and tremulous moans and whimpers that went straight to his cock. “So beautiful.” He murmured against her flushed throat. She shook in his hands as his deep, rumbling timbre vibrated across her skin. “And you taste,” he scraped his teeth across her skin. “Like sunshine.” The growled assessment was punctuated by another, sturdy bite—sucking the delicate skin at the junction of her shoulder and neck between his teeth. It would leave a mark, and the sensation had her hips rocketing into his with a delighted cry.

He reluctantly pulled away, and she whimpered at the loss. He let his eyes rake over her again, and arousal punched through him at the artfully ruined picture in his lap. Swollen lips, mussed hair, glazed eyes, bruised neck. She was grinding down on his leg—tiny, unconscious gyrations that begged him for more. “As much as I want to ravish you, Princess, we need to eat. You trained hard today. We have time.” He hated himself for saying it, but was impressed with his own even speech. He kissed her again, soft and coaxing. She sighed against him, and tried to pull him closer, but he pulled back.

Clarke knew she was pouting, but dutifully slipped from his lap and say back in her own seat. She nibbled her lip, gazing shyly at him from beneath her eyelashes. “Are you sure you don’t want to keep going?” She asked after a long, uncertain moment.

“Oh, I do.” He chuckled, shifting in his seat. Her eyes dropped to his lap, where it was clear that he wanted to keep going. “But coupled with your training, I have a feeling you’d hate me tomorrow if we did.”

She sighed a little wistfully. “Fine. But keep in mind that I’ll be stabbing you tomorrow. I can’t promise that my frustration won’t affect the outcome.”

He grinned, delighted at her cheek. “On the other hand, if you want me to fix it, you’ll have to keep me alive.” He purred.

She grinned back. “You make a good point. I guess we’ll see if I’m more swayed by frustration or anticipation.”

Finn loped up to the campfire, sliding in next to Raven where she was surrounded by their ragtag team. His eyes slid over the group. Their ragtag team, minus one. “Where’s Clarke?” He asked. Wells frowned as Raven stiffened, and Finn didn’t seem to notice.

“Getting to know her fiancé.” Syl smirked, holding her hand up to Miller who quickly high-fived her.

Wells chuckled at their antics before turning his eyes back to Finn, uncharacteristically cold. “They’re having dinner in the Dropship before their super intense Grounder courting ritual tomorrow. Why, did you need something?” There was an edge to his tone that Finn ignored.

“What ritual?”

“There are three rituals before the main ceremony.” Raven grumbled. “Do you listen when I talk to you?”

“It’s essentially proving to one another that they can take care of each other. There’s one about health, one about providing, and one about communication.” Syl told him before he could make a fuss. “Tomorrow’s the one about health. They harm each other, then they heal each other.”

“He’s going to harm her?” Finn snapped, getting to his feet. Even Jasper rolled his eyes. Raven grabbed his sleeve.

“Not as much as she’ll harm him. Now sit down and shut up before you piss someone off.” Raven snapped. Finn looked mutinous, and both Wells and Miller stirred uneasily. “Back to what we were actually discussing. Those training exercises were brutal.” She complained.

“We’re going to be sore as fuck tomorrow.” Syl agreed, flopping down. “I’m actually considering sleeping right here.”

“You could. It would get cold once the fire died down.” Miller grunted. She shot him a small wry smile. “Yeah, I know. Open spaces.” Syl didn’t like sleeping in the open. She also didn’t like to talk about it.

They chatted for a while, talking about their progress and plans. Eventually they got to Wells, by which time Murphy, Octavia and Lincoln had joined them. “So I was looking at the super shitty map we drew based on what dad showed us before comms cut out,” he began. “And there are some old supply depots nearby that we should check out.”

“What makes you think they haven’t been ransacked already?” Miller asked around a mouthful of rabbit.

“Government depots. Smaller than Mount Weather was, but hidden. They didn’t want to give the locations out to the public in case they were ransacked during a crisis.” He rolled his eyes. “But there’s one that’s supposed to have a ton of tac gear in it.” Miller perked up.

“Like what?”

“Armor, tech, rations, camp gear, guns—“

“We don’t use guns.” Octavia warned. “I know you’ve been using the ones you found, but once you’re integrated, you’ll probably be asked to stop. Until you take care of the Acid Fog, at least. They see guns on one of us, and they unleash it. And after, the other clans will be unsettled by our military advantage, and it’s in our best interest to keep the peace by getting rid of them.”

“So we’re supposed to fight Mount Weather without technology on their level?” Wells raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like a good way to lose.”

“Perhaps. But until the fog is gone, we can’t risk it. We can’t use them until we’re sure, and after the Mountain is defeated, we’ll have to disarm.” She insisted. “Unless, of course, you want guns in the hands of every clan. That is the most likely compromise that Lexa will offer if we refuse to dispose of them.”

Nobody liked that idea. No. That seemed like an awful idea. “Well then we better learn quickly.” Syl muttered. “I don’t like the idea of us being defenseless or underprepared. Even for a minute.”

Octavia smiled and flicked her eyes to Murphy, who looked proud and pleased with her statement. Then her eyes drifted over the rest, and Miller and Raven were nodding along. Jasper and Monty looked hesitant, but seemed like they understood. They weren’t built for battle, though. Wells looked resigned, but resignation was a form of acceptance, so she was okay with that. But Finn—the pretty boy with the big dreams and sense of self-importance looked annoyed. “Do you disagree, Finn?”

He shot her a look that suggested dislike. “I thought the whole point of this alliance was to prevent violence.”

She offered him a condescending smirk in return. “Just because you have brokered peace with us, does not mean you have done so with the other eleven clans. Resources are precious, and territory is precious. We fight to protect our people and ourselves. And even if we weren’t at war, being able to defend yourself is always valuable. Especially if you’re a woman. Why don’t you ask your houmon how many time she’s been tempted to kill to protect herself?”

Raven shifted uncomfortably next to him. “Raven?”

She was silent, pondering through her response. “I don’t really want to kill anyone. But I would have loved to beat the shit out of Commander Davies when he’d kick me out of our room to exploit my mother, or Nigel for not cutting her off moonshine. And I’d have given my left leg to break Parson’s arm the next time he felt me up in the airlock chamber.” She admitted. His jaw dropped.

“You didn’t tell me he was harassing you!”

“I did. You told me to tell him to stop, or I’d file a complaint with Sinclair. That didn’t work because he threatened you. After that, I left it alone. You were in the SkyBox, I didn’t want to bother you with my less life-threatening problems.”

“Threatened me how?” He demanded.

“He worked on the heating and ventilation systems in the prison units. He could have suffocated you in your sleep or frozen you to death in under an hour.” She shrugged. “You saved my life, I save yours, right? But yeah, even having the knowledge that I could hurt him if I wanted to would have made it better. Made me feel like less of a victim.”

Octavia had a satisfied and knowing smirk plastered on her face. “The only thing that keeps you alive is your willingness to fight for each breath. If you are unwilling to fight, someone will take what’s yours because those who need more fight harder. And all people—men and women—are taught to fight in Trishanakru. Though we value peace, we will not be exploited. As my brother likes to say, we 'speak softly and carry a big stick.’ There is no shame in strength, only in needless violence. But it is sometimes necessary, so don’t undervalue its importance because of your ideals. You’ll only put yourself and your people in danger.”

Finn’s jaw clenched. “Maybe we deserve to die if we can’t solve our problems with words instead of weapons.”

Murphy spoke. “You’re being naive. You are assuming that just because you prefer to solve problems with words, everyone will. The Mountain Men are the perfect example. They didn’t tell us they had marked off territory. They started burning us alive and poisoning our water supply. We didn’t know what was happening until we saw one of them fleeing back to safety behind the Mountain’s steel doors. They come silently and keep us tame with their weapons, and we’ve never even seen their faces. No matter how many times we tried to make peace, they slaughtered.” Though his tone his soft, his words were sharp and intentional. They’d asked to be prepared and taught their ways, and he was merely fulfilling that promise.

He continued. "That might not be the way we do things, but that’s because Bellamy is honorable and always keeps the bigger picture in mind. Not everyone is like that, because the more you think you deserve, the less you are willing to share.” His eyes flicked meaningfully from Raven across the campfire to the Dropship where Clarke was hidden, then back to Finn’s face. He was pleased to note that his words had caused the foolish boy to go red in the face, the implication not lost and not appreciated. “Believe what you will, and learn what you want. But don’t impose your ideals upon others at the expense of their lives.”

He did his best not to notice that Syl was raking her heated gaze over his form, clearly pleased with his perspective and unsubtle venom. Or maybe, that he had supported her opinion so thoroughly.

Wells looked pleased with him, too. “Even if we’re not using those guns in the long term, it’s still a good idea to collect them.” He stated, bringing the conversation back to the center. Octavia raised an expectant eyebrow, waiting for him to explain. “We can use them once the acid fog is gone, but then when it’s time to disarm we can still repurpose the components. That’s a lot of scrap metal and chemical surplus, and it would be a shame to waste it.”

Syl nodded. “The chemicals in gunpowder can be repurposed, and the metal from the guns can be used in Raven and Monty’s engineering projects.”

“Gunpowder?” Lincoln asked.

“It’s the stuff in a bullet that makes it move so fast. Explosive material that forces the bullet out of the gun at an extremely high speed.” She explained quickly. “It’s mostly made from sulfur, potassium nitrate, and charcoal. Sulfur is used for killing bacteria, so it’s useful in a number of medications, and in farming. Potassium nitrate is a really important component of most fertilizers for crops, and charcoal can be used for purification, and can theoretically be used to prevent water damage and moisture decay. There are more uses, but those are the most obvious. It depends on how much of it we find, too.”

“I’m starting to understand why Bellamy agreed to this alliance so readily.” Lincoln murmured. “You’re all quite impressive. I should have known.” Octavia elbowed him.

“Known what?” Miller asked, suspicious. Murphy shot him an amused glance.

“Bellamy has been offered political alliances like this in the past. He’s declined them all, except for Trikru. That was only because Octavia wanted to bond with me, so the timing was convenient.” Lincoln replied, ignoring the elbow digging into his side. “No alliance was important enough for him to forget his desire to love and be loved by his houmon. But I can see why he thought this one was. Your people are very impressive. You have a lot of potential, and you’re resourceful. That’s valuable.”

While they were flattered by his appraisal and glad to know that their alliance was secure and valued, the reminder that Clarke might never be in love with a person she could have was a jarring and upsetting one. But when Finn opened his mouth to say as much, Raven dug her nails into his thigh.

“That’s kind of you to say, Lincoln.” Monty said, soft and measured. Monty would have made a good representative for Farm Station. If they’d stayed in space, that is. “It’s good to know that our skills are valued. I hope we can earn the relative peace you’ve given us.”

“I can’t wait to see what you accomplish.” He smiled, unaware of the shift in mood. It didn’t escape Octavia though. Luckily, she was a master of setting people at ease without them noticing. It’s what made her such a capable assassin.

“And then there’s Clarke.” She smirked over at Murphy, who couldn’t contain his amused grin. “You made the right decision when you sent her to TonDC instead of Wells.” The laughter in her voice was palpable.

“I thought he was going to choke when she sat next to him at the negotiation.” Murphy chuckled. “A brave, beautiful girl with a martyr streak to rival the saints of old? And her peoples’ leader.”

“And the eye-contact thing.” Octavia grinned. “We all knew she was terrified, but walking in there and staring him straight in the eye as though he wasn’t the king of a warrior nation? I’m surprised he managed to speak in complete sentences.”

“He likes her?” Miller asked.

Octavia snorted. “She’d already be pregnant with a leash around his balls if not for tradition. I don’t completely trust your people yet, but I’m honestly too amused to be annoyed. I’m just glad that he has a panel of advisors so that he doesn’t blindly agree with everything she says out of sheer lovestruck idiocy.”

“Clarke isn’t like that. She’ll always put her people before herself. She’s too rational.” Finn told them, barely suppressing a smug smile. Raven was tense next to him. Octavia’s stare hardened. She knew what Finn was trying to do.

Syl guffawed. “Shows how well you know her. Yeah, she’s not likely to back down from an opinion without extreme persuasion and her people come first, but it’s not because she’s too rational. It’s because she’s taken responsibility for every single one of us, and she cares too much to let herself be happy. She’s not a robot, she’s a martyr.”

“Personally, I’m glad she has Bellamy.” Wells drawled, learning back. “She’ll have someone to help her carry the weight of her decisions.”

“And,” Miller continued, giving Finn a nasty side-eye. “Now that we’re joining Trishanakru, she probably can probably relax into her personal life a bit. They’ll be her people too, so she won’t have to worry about us spontaneously dying as often and we’ll have the rest of the clan looking out for us, she can let herself get romanced a little.”

“I got a chance to talk to Bellamy today.” Monty offered. “They think a lot alike. I think he might be what she needs. To heal and move forward, I mean.”

“Like how?” Murphy asked.

“She needs a partner.” He shrugged. “Someone steady who she can lean on, and who can lean on her. Someone to respect her decisions and be a sounding board, and listen when she offers her opinion. Bellamy admires her and is genuinely interested in how she makes her decisions. He wouldn’t stop harassing me while I was trying to itemize. He asked about life on the Ark, our customs and laws. Beyond what Clarke had already told him. He wants to understand us. To understand her.”

Murphy frowned. “I told you at that would be the case. At the peace conference.”

“It’s one thing to say it, and another to see it.” He replied wryly. “As much as I hoped you were telling the truth, I was still worried. She does so much for us, so the idea that she’d give up falling in love—having a life, really—to keep us safe was daunting. We’d be grateful, but that’s a cold life to live. Especially after a year of solitary and losing both of her parents. I’m glad that there’s a chance for her to have a fulfilling and equitable relationship. One that won’t cause her more pain and loneliness.” His eyes cut to Finn before turning back to Murphy.

“I’m glad he decided to pursue this alliance.” Murphy admitted. “After his few romantic disasters and failed alliances, I wasn’t sure this would turn out well. He’d still attempt a peaceful resolution, but this amount of involvement was more than I predicted.”

“Romantic disasters?” Syl piped up, leaning in. “What romantic disasters?”

“Murphy.” Octavia warned. Murphy rolled his eyes. Everyone had leaned in a little—clearly interested and waiting for the story. Octavia clearly didn’t want it told.

“It was only one disaster.” He admitted, leaning back against his log. “He fell in love and she betrayed him. She stabbed him, and Octavia slit her throat. For a while, we thought he was turning down courtships because he didn’t trust anyone anymore, and we were worried about him.”

“Murphy, shof op.”

“Chil au.” He replied. “They deserve to know more about their future King. Especially since he’s marrying their friend. They’re worried. Can you blame them?”

“As a hai-seken, no. As his sister, absolutely.” She snapped. “I doubt Bellamy will want to hear that joka’s name ever again, and our people know that. They don’t.”

“Emo laik oson kru.” He scolded. “They need to know how the world works. It’s different than when their people left. You can tell just by the way—“ He looked up, gesturing, but was met with empty air. He blinked owlishly. “Where’s Finn?”

All eyes swiveled to the empty space that Finn had been occupying mere moments ago. “Oh crap.” Syl muttered. Raven’s eyes snapped to her, glaring and furious. “Oh, come on. What if he’s about to barge into our carefully crafted dinner date to tell Clarke that Trishanakru has a history of murdering their love interests? That doesn’t exactly scream ‘good diplomatic relations’ or ’successful marriage’. We gotta find him."

#queen-swagzilla

Trending Tags

Recently Viewed Tags

#queen-swagzilla