Conflate | Bellamy Blake ¹ ✓

✯ | chapter fourteen

❝this was the door to both sustenance and sanity. and we were each other's key.❞

-katniss everdeen, mockingjay

♛

I STAND IN FRONT of the two Grounders between me and Lexa's tent with my back straight and eyes still watering. They don't seem fazed by the tear stains on my cheeks, nor do they budge at my begging for them to let me pass.

"Please," I whisper, trying to speak through the lump still lodged in my throat. I don't feel ashamed or embarrassed about my obvious sorrow- I have every right to be upset. Standing before them doesn't change that.

"Let her pass," Lexa's voice commands from nearby.

"Heda--" one of them tries to argue, but Lexa holds up a hand that effectively makes them go silent.

"Dula chit ai biyo."

The guards step aside to let me through without another word. I turn to where Lexa watches me carefully from the side, sending her a nod in thanks. She jerks her chin toward the tent in response without expression. 

I keep my head high up until the moment the red curtains close behind me. The instant they do, I more or less sprint toward where Clarke sits at the foot of the throne, choking on her sobs as she vigorously rubs her hand with a cloth to rid it of the blood. Finn's blood.

She looks up at me with despondency in her eyes, her mouth opening and closing as if she's trying to speak but can't find words. I sit beside her and take the rag. She shakes violently from head to toe, as if miniature earthquakes are beneath her skin. I have to steady her hand before I can help her clean it. The blood is stubborn as it sticks to her skin and refuses to come off unless I use force, scrubbing it off so hard I must be hurting her.

Abby and Kane enter a few moments after, quickly taking note of Clarke's sobbing and my own tear-stained face. Her mother steps forward and crouches before her.

"They were going to torture him," Clarke bursts out heavily through her crying, finally able to find her words. "I had to. I--"

"Shh," Abby coaxes and brushes a strand of hair away from her daughter's face in a loving manner. "It's okay. It's okay."

"What did I do?" Clarke questions numbly from Abby's arms. I cover my mouth with my hand to prevent any more sobs from escaping at the pure agony in her voice. Her pain may as well be my own, I feel it so strongly. 

A familiar Grounder steps in with an impassive expression- the one who had threatened us upon our first arrival. Gustus? Is that his name? I think so.

"The Commander is ready to talk," he informs us, then shifts his hard gaze to me. "You are not welcome."

"No," Clarke protests, clinging onto my hand with her clean one in desperation. "Let her stay."

"She is of no importance to us," Gustus replies blankly, but the words still succeed in sending a jab through me. He seems to fry me with his stare. "The Commander was generous in letting her come in. Leave. Or I will call Indra."

I squeeze Clarke's hand before standing, telling her, "It's okay." I straighten up and leave the tent with my back straight. Gustus' eyes follow me while I walk. When I'm outside, I take a deep breath of the crisp morning air. It steadies me a bit. 

She is of no importance to us. Why do I feel like that phrase follows me wherever I go? I'm of enough status to be allowed into Lexa's tent, but not to stay for longer than I need to. It feels like a cruel punishment to walk out of there alone, and I can't help but feel the tiniest but humiliated.