Responsible for survival

Meeting

CLARKE'S POV: (A week later)

Lincoln ducks out of Octavia's tent and nods at us. "I'm going to see Indra." He says, before striding out of camp. Bell smiles at him before ducking into her tent. I keep walking, not wanting to be forced into involvement on Octavia's health again. Instead, I go and join Monroe digging a fox hole on the north side. "Hey." She grunts, shoving the make shift shovel into the ground. It's a big stick with a curved piece of the dropship as the blade. "Spare spades there." She nods her head to a smaller spade. The silence is comfortable, broken by the screeching of metal on the occasional rock. An attack from the mountain men's got to be imminent after what we've done. But we've had no retaliation and it's been 6 days. Sweat beads on my forehead, and the sky beats us. Sterling comes over, offering to swap jobs with me. Monroe gives me a non-verbal plea, shaking her bright green eyes, that shimmer with gold stars in the sunlight. I refuse him. Monroe smiles at me, and her shoulders ease onto the spade as he walks away. "He's got really creepy recently..." she mutters, "Like we were so close... and heee..." she draws it out as a twig snaps. Her hand flies to her waistband for a knife. Miller stumbles into the clearing, dragging a deer. It's head lolls and suddenly there's two. A large bloody scar and dead eye between the pair. Monroe yelps, fumbling with her knife. It drops to the floor, skidding past her boot.

We keep digging as the waves of cooking meat waft over the camp. We pat the sides down, then stand the shovels down. I grin at Monroe, and hold up a hand for a high five. She slaps it, and my hand tingles, blister forming from the tough spade. We walk through the gate as Lincoln walks in. He grins from ear to ear, eyes lit up. "I have good news from Indra." He closes the gate behind us. He jogs over to Octavia, who's sat in a chair from the dropship close to the fire with a blanket tucked over hre shoulders. He kisses her forehead before glancing, red, at Bellamy. Bell looks away and sees us. His smile lights up and we walk over, flopping down on either side of him. He squeezes my hand, and my head droops onto his shoulder. Lincoln comes over to us, head ducked as he strides past Jasper, who sits on the edge of Monty, Harper and Miller who are laughing at something. "I have good news from Indra. The alliance is to be agreed officially tomorrow, at the bridge." An out pour of relief courses through me. Tension drops from Bellamy's shoulders and my head drops with it. "I have to take the leaders, and everyone who was part of the first part of the alliance." We nod, and he walks back over to Octavia with a bounce in his stride. Bellamy lets go of my hand, and stands up, calling for silence. "Lincoln has returned with good news. Our alliance will be finalised tomorrow." Cheers echo round the camp, and the sound of high fives and hugs makes my heart burst with pride. These surely aren't the same kids who'd been silenced in fear when told they weren't alone. "Myself, Clarke, Monroe, Monty, Miller, Drew, Murphy, Finn, Raven and Charlotte will go, under instructions from Indra." Mutters seep up through the camp and I see Harper's golden hair shake a no. But Murphy is the first to object.
"Charlotte's not going." he crosses his arms. Charlotte rolls her eyes, but doesn't object.
"OK." Bell nods.
"I don't particularly want to go either." Calls Drew, perched in a chair next to Octavaia. He's only been conscious 4 days and it's taken a lot out of him... his cheeks are pinched and pale. I nod, because I'd rather he didn't go to. Too much standing could spell disaster until we can work out exactly why he was out for so long. Finn shuffles forward. "I didn't do anything other than get in everyone's way when we made the alliance. There's no point in me going. Besides, Indra" he spits the name. "killed Wells. I don't want to cause a scene." Bellamy doesn't object, rolling his eyes. Daggers are being flown at him from Murphy and Raven's glaring eyes. "Anyone else?" Bellamy laughs. We've lost 3, who's going to quit next? Harper stands up, shoulders back and chin pointed. She folds her arms and glares at us.
"I'm coming. I'm not losing my friends for a fourth time." Miller smirks widely, nudging Monty with his elbow. Monty flushes deep red. I smile.

The eight of us gather as Monroe crawls around the corner of the dropship she hid most of the guns in. She throws knives and axes out haphazardly and every so often someone jumps to avoid losing a toe. She pulls out four guns, and passes five rolls of ammunition out.
"Three stay at camp. One of these comes with us, and we bring Bellamy's gun as well." She nods, before turning to me and Bell. I shuffle my feet, unsure of who we trust as guards. Sterling, obviously, and Finn. Drew's not well enough and nor is Octavia. Jasper, John, Roma, Eric, Felix and Fox are maybes.
"Three guards or six?" I ask eventually.
"Six. In pairs, one with a gun, one without" Monroe tilts her head.
"So Sterling, Finn, Jasper, John, Roma..."
"And Eric, Felix and Fox." Bell adds, thinking same as I do.
"That's eight Bellamy..." Raven laughs.
"Get Roma and Fox to keep everyone inside the camp calm."
"A guard not on the walls." Monroe nods, before scuttling after a knife she'd thrown half way across the drop ship.

She throws them all haphazard on the bloodied rag the deer was cut up on. She whistles loudly, fingers in the corners of her lips. It rips sharply through the camp. "Three guns. Not to be wasted, or used unnecessarily. The rest is for guards only. Sterling, Finn, Jasper, Eric, Felix and John. YOU are on the walls. Get in pairs. One gun each pair." She stands on her tip toes, stumbling a little, and yanking on my shoulder. "Roma! Fox!" she calls, staring further into the crowds, "You're in charge of defence inside the camp." Roma smiles, finger gunning us. We begin to walk out of camp, when Octavia's high voice shatters the goodbyes. "WAIT!" she hops, clutching onto Lincoln with an iron grip. "I'm coming." Lincoln smiles, shaking his head and mouthing he had no choice. Bellamy shakes his head.
"You're not. You're injured. If the mountain men capture you-"
"I'll kill them." She hisses. I blink, head reeling. Raven taps Bellamy's arm.
"We can't waste time. Dawn at the bridge..." Monroe forces the gate open, and mockingly salutes the camp, before ducking under it in a fit of giggles from Amaya. Bellamy stands there, before sighing.
"Fine. But if you get tired, you tell us."

We make it to the bridge as the sun begins to prick purple on the horizon. Day 7. Seven dawns since we killed four guards and stole their prisoners. Seven dawns of no retaliation. My hand shakes in Bellamy's. He squeezes it tightly. As we cross the bridge Lincoln calls out to a set of guards in a rainbow of materials. "Hon heda op. Emo kom skaikru." The guards nod, and one beckons us forward. Lincoln carries Octavia away, towards a group of people under a red and black banner, three C outwards in a circle. Indra waves from the crowd, and she hurries to us. She beams, brightly, at Monroe and I. "Come. As my allies, I will introduce you to Heda." She pushes the grainy fabric away from the door way. Faded light blurs into candle light.

A young girl, no older than us, relaxes on a twisted wooden throne, spinning a knife on her finger tips. Her hair, loosely braided at the top, cascades into waves over shoulders. Her eyes, deep green and flecked with red roll over us. A long red cape spirals from large, chipped metal plates on her shoulder. War paint like a crying mask dribbles black on her cheeks. Belts clinch her waist together, and she nods once, untwisting her ankles, revealing mud and blood splattered knee high boots. She smiles softly, taking the knife, blade first into her right hand.
"Skaikru?"
"Sha." Indra nods, confidently walking to the right hand side of the throne, and removing the knife from her hand. A bald man, much older than anyone else here frowns at her. His long robe brushes the ground. Indra replaces the knife, handle first into the girl's hand. Her slender fingers close tightly over the handlr
"I am Commander Lexa. Please, take a seat. Titus, summon the other 11 clans." The man nods, and strides away. Lexa spins her knife against the throne a couple of times. We sit on a patch of carpeted floor she'd pointed to. Twelve chairs form a horse shoe around us. Indra looks at Lexa, who nods. Indra smirks, remaining where she stands. People file in, each bowing to Lexa as they enter.