winnes set raun bakon kom givnes.

Camp Phoenix was buzzing with activity, people quickly recovered and they all helped out and tended those that were sicker. They gossiped too, and quite a lot. Half of his camp was angry, they all demanded Jaha’s head and were burning with rage because of those that had been lost and the ones that almost died. Bellamy himself was full of anger too, and guilt. But mostly anger. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to agree with those that insisted that giving Thelonious a literal taste of his own medicine was the answer. 

Bellamy looked up to see Lexa, and before she even spoke he deduced what her visit was about. The pair didn’t get along: period. He didn’t trust her, and seeing her prancing around his camp didn’t please him. But then again he couldn’t blame whoever it had been that let her in, she could be quite terryfing. “Then perhaps don’t announce your business in public,” he answered simply, pushing open the entrance to what Deven called the ‘Commander’s tent’ and gestured to the inside. “No one will bother us here, consider it my office.”

Lexa fought the urge to roll her eyes at him, instead shooting a heavy glare his way. It was no secret that they shared a mild distaste for one another. None of their conversations previously had been pleasant in any way. She did however hold a slight respect for him, from one leader to another, and the fact that he didn’t try to have her removed from his camp said perhaps he did too. Lexa made her way inside the tent  and turned to face him, looking him over with narrowed eyes. “You got what we needed from him. The cure is being made in abundance and every one is free of the effects of the illness. Now we require justice, give us Thelonius so he can be put to death.” she said bluntly with a face of stone. Lexa didn’t like to beat around the bush so she got her point across as quickly as possible. 

Slowly straightening herself up, Anya used the inside of her collar to dry her face quickly and give Lexa a small half-smile.  “Mentally, I don’t know.  I saw things–ghosts,” she said hesitantly as her eyes tighten in a visible attempt to gain even a fraction of her usual rigid emotional control, “I saw them often.”  Her control was further tested at each word Lexa continued to speak, her jaw flexing in anger as she tries to restrain the urge to harm the one in question for just what she–and undoubtedly everyone else–suffered through.   Her hand had unconsciously and without her knowing lifted to tightly grip the knife at her hip as her anger flared.  “Yet…he isn’t screaming right now.  Why isn’t he screaming yet, Lexa,” Anya asked sharply before closing her eyes and forcing her hand away from her knife and her rigid control to relax, “I apologize.  That was out of line.”

When she spoke of ghosts, Lexa understood the meaning behind that immediately. Her understanding being backed up by the struggle she wore on her face. “That must have been quite difficult.” she said softly. Lexa saw the anger flush through her former mentor. She accepted it when it turned into a vocalization. “No.” she said looking up. “You are right to say that.” Lexa took a deep breath as she closes her eyes to think. “I want the same thing. The sky people have him and I am sure won’t just hand him over without some sort of friction. I am waiting until our warriors recover before I make a more threatening demand.” Lexa tilts her head back slightly, blinking a few times, as she physically feels yet another weight on her shoulders. Thankfully her shoulders were made of steel by this point. “I am shocked that they would even house a traitor. You would think that they would be more willing to let us deal with his punishment.”

“Well, not exactly,” Wells admitted. There had been so much anger among the delinquents when they’d landed, he had to wonder why he felt so defensive. After all, the council had sent them down to die, had sent Clarke down to die. Maybe it was just easier to come to terms with it now that it was all in the past, now that the people who’d sent them down had followed and struggled to survive, too. “They did what they had to, and it saved our people,” he said, deciding to leave it at that. He didn’t exactly want to get into the politics of sending 100 teenagers down as living radiation experiments, especially not with the grounder Commander. Wells blinked as she coughed; he’d almost forgotten that she was sick. He wondered if Clarke had found a cure yet. But the thought was driven out of his mind again with her next few statements. The first sounded like a compliment, but he wasn’t sure how to respond, so he just moved on to the second. “The camp is named after my father,” he explained, and the words left a bitter taste in his mouth. Why they didn’t change the name, he’d never understand. The name had been chosen for a legacy that no one acknowledged anymore, and Wells despised carrying around that weight. His eyebrows furrowed as she confirmed her identity. So he had been right. “I guessed,” he replied, a bit awkward. He’d spent so much time studying Earth, and now he had no idea how to speak to one of its leaders. The grounders didn’t have rank in the same way that people on the Ark did, and he hoped that a respectful tone would be enough to answer her authority.

“That is to be expected no matter the nature of uprising.” she nods in agreement. Even with the many differences all the factions had, protecting their respective peoples would always be the commonality at the core. That fact could bring them all together or tear them all apart; she favored the former, but knew from experience that the latter was the one that came out on top. After all that was the reason most wars were fought. Every side was right in there own way. She was glad that she had the ability to see that perspective without it affecting her judgments. Lexa noticed the ways he passed over her compliment, although she understood why he did so. There was only one other sky person that she has ever complimented so she could see how it could be strange. Maybe it was the throbbing headache she had from the sickness, since she did not regularly say such things as they crossed her mind. “He must have been a person of significance then.” she used the past tense since she never heard of a person with that name associated with them other than the one right in front of her and assumed him to be dead. When she revealed her identity she expected some sort of anger as most of the sky people had with her. Instead the respectful tone caught her of guard. She knew very few if any of his people even recognized her as anything other than a savage. “And you still carried this non-hostile conversation with me nonetheless?” 

The voices outside the tent–at least one of them–were very familiar to the warrior whose hands were slowly and surely washing her face clean.  The effort to escape the illness was one in futility, but Anya was determined to try to make steps to avoid it.  Anya could feel the emotional strain of the last several weeks weighing heavily on her shoulders, heavy like it should be entirely visible to everyone around.  “I’m recovering…if not still weak,” she said simply after a beat before shaking her head slightly in an effort to knock loose the coolness that she displayed to the public before adding, “Physically.  I heard you caught the one responsible, correct?”

“That is good to hear.” a subtle smile graces her lips. Lexa takes a few more steps closer to her wondering exactly what she had gone through in the fit of the sickness. “And mentally?” she raised a brow with a questioning tone, a bit of worry flashing in her eyes. Lexa knew the question could possible be in be in vain, but she asked it nonetheless. “Yes.” She rubbed her temples at the question as she thought of just the right way to discuss it. “I followed a hunch that Mt. Weather was responsible with Lincoln and reluctantly a few of the sky people. Turns out it was one of the sky people hiding out there that was responsible for the illness.” she paused taking a sigh. “It is to my understanding he is the namesake of their camp and previously their leader. Although I can see why he no longer is with his delusional philosophy.” 

His hands felt heavy, heavier than usual. First, it had been Lincoln, with his unwavering silence and the innocent eyes that followed Octavia around the room, with the red marks on his back that were his fault. Then it had been the hundreds of people in the Ark, the lives that were taken because of him. The list went on and on, and it ended in Mt. Weather. Yet again in Mt. Weather they had found a different threat, and this time the face was more than familiar. 

Bellamy washed his already clean hands for the tenth time in the day, to his eyes the blood was still notorious. The torture on the former leader weighted on him, but still he couldn’t find it within himself to be sorry. Turning around to grab the pack of blankets he had taken from his tent, he made his way back to the medical bay in Phoenix, to his recovering people, to redemption (if that was even possible).

The camp was buzzing with a certain level of relief as the cure made its way to all the inhabitants that so desperately needed it. She stayed behind not only to see her people safely make it out after recovery, knowing all too well how things could turn now that the main problem was dealt with, but also to seek the rightful punishment that Thelonious deserved. A part of her wished that they had just taken him to her own village, but logically this was a better place, much to her displeasure. Now that the information they wanted was out, her patience was at its end. Lexa watched as Bellamy finally emerged and saw the opportunity to bluntly bring it up. She stepped in front of him before he could reach his destination, starring him down coldly. “We must discuss the next move for the prisoner.” she looked around before her gaze found his again. “Preferably not out in the open.” 

Splashing water onto her face as she crouched by a small container, Anya tried to wash away the stresses and signs that the illness had unexpectedly wrought.  She’d heard rumor that the one responsible had been caught, but everything else varied from the Commander herself to the most ineffective of the Sky People and everything in between.  She would definitely ignore the rumors of whom it may be just for that reason alone.  It’s not like she couldn’t steal a few moments of any of the leaders’ time to get the facts…but later.  When her emotions didn’t feel like they’d been raked over hot coals and old wounds didn’t feel quite so freshly ripped open.  Not to mention, standing guard over her people hadn’t done her any favors.  It had slowed her own recovery time when it didn’t put her at risk entirely.

The past few days have been stressful to say the least, not that she couldn’t handle it, but the situations she was faced with have become more bizarre than she could have ever imagined. Now there was yet another friction point with the sky people over the punishment of the one responsible. With a deep sigh she steps into the tent she knows Anya to be in and orders the guard with her to stand post by the entrance. She hadn’t had the chance to talk with her since they parted ways, but was glad to hear she was on the road to recovery. “Anya.” she spoke, the coldness melting from her face as she looked to her. Anya wore a face rarely seen, even by Lexa herself. “How are you feeling?”