#azplna

Octavia is done taking orders from others. She still doesn’t think of herself as a leader, but she’s no longer just a follower. And while this is a request rather than a command, it still rubs her the wrong way.

The warrior draws closer to the blonde as if sizing her up. Her grip is tight around the hilt of her sword, but the weapon is angled down with no intention of being used. She feels powerful now, unlike on the Ark where she was at everyone else’s mercy. Hiding beneath the floorboards, pretending not to exist. Even when they first made it to the ground, everyone walked on egg shells around Bellamy’s precious little sister. No. No more. The naïve girl who once chased butterflies is now the one who slits throats.

“What look, Clarke?” Blue eyes seem to burn into the other. “Enlighten me.” Octavia’s already in a bad mood, so she’ll be damned if anyone is going to tell her what to do. 

Oh boy. There’s a lot of things Raven wants to say. Of course, the brunette has learned over the years that sometimes it’s better to keep one’s innermost thoughts to themselves. After all, the mechanic has a reputation for being very blunt- which isn’t always appreciated.

Her mouth opens several times, but she stops herself. It’s a dangerous question and Raven refuses to take the bait. “Uh-uh. No.” She waves a playful finger at Clarke, though she’s still serious. “Whenever we have one of these conversations, it goes one of two ways: we get pissy and don’t talk for weeks, or we scream at each other and then don’t talk for weeks. I’m-“ Raven uses hand gestures to try to get her point across. A deep breath helps as well. “I’ve said my piece and I don’t want to dwell on this any longer. I’m sorry if that’s not what you want to hear.”

The warrior looks up from her blade and rolls her shoulders back. Though she doesn’t know when the next battle will occur, she still sharpens her weapon to prepare. She doesn’t respond to Clarke right away and seems to stare past her while she thinks. After a few moments and a heavy sigh, Octavia simply says, “Then don’t.” She doesn’t mean to be rude or curt, that’s just the best advice she can give to the other woman. “You have nothing tethering you here.”

Unlike most of the hundred, Octavia feels a sense of belonging here in Polis-something she could never feel on the Ark, despite the best efforts made by her brother. Hunting in the woods, riding in the open fields, the younger Blake feels alive and she knows this is where she is meant to be. “You’re miserable. It’s all over your face.” Octavia knows this pain all too well; feeling stuck and trapped, haunted by the past. And while everything about the ground was Octavia’s liberation, maybe Clarke still needed to find hers.

“Wherever you go Clarke, be free.”  

Raven is absorbed with her newest project when Clarke enters the hangar. The mechanic tends to get restless if there’s nothing for her to do, nothing to keep her hands busy and her mind sharp. But the familiar voice cuts through, even against the roar of the torch. Raven sets her tools down on her work bench and raises her mask to get a better look at her visitor. “Hey stranger-“ She doesn’t mean to stop so abruptly, it’s just the Clarke she sees now is different from last she saw her. The garb, the braids the brands – Raven takes note of the facial markings as she draws closer. She wonders if the blonde thinks she’s changed too. That’s the crazy thing about time. It makes one notice all the little discrepancies that went under the radar before. But at any rate, Raven’s happy to see her too.  “Of course you did,” Raven teases, pulling Clarke into an embrace. That’s one thing about Griffin -well she’s not exactly a Griffin anymore- that’s remained constant; she still gives fantastic hugs. “You know I’d come see you more often, but you’d have to get me one of those awesome coats.” The astronaut refers to the parka-like clothing the people of Azgeda often wear. “Have you been well?” 

body     freezes     the    moment     her    hand    lays    upon    his    sleeve  ,    fingers     curling     around    the    fabric    in    an    attempt     to    halt    him    from    storming     out    of    her    tent    .    even    frozen    in    anger    and    hurt   ,    her    touch    is    like    a    soothing    balm    on    all    the   wounds    that    riddled    his    war    torn    body    ;    quieting    the    roaring    chaos    within    him    down    to    a    dull    murmur    .    still    ,    he    clings    onto    the    lingering    remnants    of    his    anger    ;    holds    it    close    like    a    safety    blanket   ,    so    she    won’t    see    the    pain    lurking    just    beneath    the    surface    .

he    shrugs    off    her    touch   ,     though     he    wants    nothing    more    than    to    sink     into     the    comfort    for    of    it    ;   locking    his    jaw    to    hide    the    quiver     it    held     before    shifting    his    arctic    gaze    to     clarke’s    .    ❛       you    got    your    coalition    ,    your    majesty    .    just    like    you    wanted    .    now    leave    me    the    hell    alone    .      ❜     with    that     he    turns    and    walks    away    from    her    ,      fighting    the    powerful    urge    to    look    back    at    her    with    each    heavy    step    taken    .

         lips press together as a slow exhale leaves him. he UNDERSTANDS her frustration, her dismay. they made this union to bring peace. but that is easier said than done. it will take time and much more than taking a bond. it has given them peace between their people, but other clans still war and rebels remain within his own borders. he imagines this is not what she wished for or had in mind. but it is reality and she is intelligent enough to have understood that to begin with. he knows it doesn’t change how exhausting it is, this constant fight which seems as if it will NEVER end.