#the same seats in Mn ended up going for half but weren’t even visible until days before the show

[iwatcheditbegin]

I wasn’t able to do any of the boosts bc I was in the hospital then ed treatment for months. Wasn’t able to get tickets either.

Idk what I learned from rep is they hold the best seats / prices until last minute. I’m staying hopeful

[vertanimeni]

the ice will start to break, the day will fade away (6/18)

Summary:

“Have you heard? The Elephant of Caocin has committed high treason!”

From Trikru’s most reputable war hero to Trikru’s most wanted traitor, Kova found themselves stripped of their titles and trapped between a clan that wants them dead and a camp of invaders - the same ones who kidnapped and tortured their brother.

But Kova was willing to do anything to stay alive and keep their family together.

Pairing: Bellamy/Grounder OC

Word Count: 5,428

TW: Canon typical violence, violent flashback, healing/medicine.

A/N: Hi hi! After some convincing from my friends, I decided to post this series here :D I’ve already finished with season 1 and half of season 2, I’m just in the middle of re-writing and editing. If you’re reading through my blog, the read more does not show up due to Tumblr’s new formatting, so please click on the post itself. I’ll be updating every other day at 12pm EST. Anyways, hope you enjoy it!

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⟻ Previous Chapter || Masterlist || Next Chapter ⟼

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vi. irreconcilable.

“Everyone gather around!" Clarke summoned the camp to the platform where she and Bellamy stood. He prepared to explain the events leading up to the situation of having a grounder as a neighbor until Clarke spoke first. “With the help of two grounders, Lincoln and Kova, we attempted to make peace with one of their leaders.” Her words started low rumbles of whispers throughout the group. Clarke paused. Unsure of what to say next, she needed to come up with a reason for Kova’s stay without alarming them.

As if on cue, Bellamy spoke up. “Due to miscommunication, the meeting didn’t work out as we had hoped. I know this is difficult and, trust me, I understand why you’re all angry. We have a lot to talk about, especially after last night."

“But since Kova helped us, the grounders consider them as a traitor.” Clarke surprised herself with how flawlessly she came up with that excuse. “They were injured in the process and had no other place to go, so we brought them here.” The murmuring in the crowd increased and some people grew agitated. "Think of it this way." Clarke raised her hands up. "They could help us find a better water source and food, maybe even teach us about the land."

"How do we know this grounder won’t try to kill us while we’re asleep?” One shouted out, adding gas to the flaming panic within the group.

“Because they were injured. They can’t do much.”

“But if you all feel unsafe, we can have them hand over all their weapons and stash them away. By having them around, we can get valuable information in order to survive. And if the grounders come, we’ll have the upper hand with them. Are we good?”

The whispers cooled down after Bellamy’s reassurance. After all, he hated the grounders more so than anyone else in camp. If he had agreed to this, then there must have been a good reason. The muttering stopped and most of the camp were nodding their heads in agreement. There were a few who still despised the idea, but none objected.

“Great.” Clarke clapped her hands. “Now let's talk about the ship from last night.”

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Red bathed Mount Caocin. Kova found themselves in the middle of a mountain path, dried trees and leafless bushes lining the edges. They felt fabric rustle at the top of their head. They realized it was an all too familiar hooded cape tied securely across their shoulders. Panicking, they tried pulling at the end of the strings to no avail. They tried pulling the cape over their head but the string tightened underneath their jaw.

They gave up and took note of their surroundings. Other warriors ran up the path, paying no mind to Kova even when they stepped in their way. Yet deep in their gut, they knew these weren’t their warriors. Sloppy foot work, unbecoming of a warrior of Trikru, capes similar to Kova’s covered their entire faces and bodies, denying Kova even a glimpse of who they could be.

But the warriors had the Trikru insignia stitched into their capes. Who else could they belong to?

Thus, Kova followed their fellow warrios up to the edge of the path.

The Azgeda army stood at the foot of the mountain, holding their flag on a pole, a symbol of war, but none of them had any visible weapons. 'Why haven't they followed us up here yet?' Kova found themselves asking.

Strange clicking noises came from behind. They turned around to face their fellow warriors, only to find the wind blowing their capes to reveal the forbidden ancient weapons. Guns.

Shots rang out. Kova flinched and squeezed their eyes shut, bending over to protect themselves. But no pain arrived, and neither did the bone crunching bullets.

The Trikru warriors they had fought along with for years disappeared, and now there was only one person in front of them. The brother they love fell to his knees in front of them, collapsing into a puddle of rainwater and mud, his blood mixing with the elements below him.

Their arm hung in front of them, jaggedly, inhumanly, like a puppet on strings, with the pointer finger pressed against the trigger of the gun in their hand.

///

Eyes snapped open, only to flinch away with the afternoon sun streaking sunlight through the crack of the tent’s entrance. Kova recoiled, back pressing against a mattress, and rubbed their eyes with the back of their hands. Their heart pounded in their chest, body alight with adrenaline, yet they couldn’t recall the nightmare that had woken them up.

Maybe that was for the best.

Instead, they tried to remember how exactly they fell asleep in this unfamiliar, orange tent. From what they could recall, they didn’t necessarily “fall asleep,” rather they passed out from the pain shooting up their leg.

Ah. The recollection of last night brought a dull ache from their injury. The ache also returned a hazy memory of the invaders’ leader visiting in the middle of the night with Octavia to disinfect their wound. Slowly turning to lay on their side, they peered under the thin blanket to find bandages wrapped around their calf.

As well as bare skin. Someone had taken off their leather armor, boots, socks, pants, long sleeve shirt, and jacket, folding them neatly to the side, the mask on top. They had been left with their underclothes — a pair of biker shorts and an off-white tank top. “I’ll have to thank whoever did that later. It’s exhausting to take all of that off, even for me.”

They noticed there were important pieces missing from their collection. "Surprise surprise," Kova grumbled to themselves, sitting up on their elbows. "They took away my weapons. Did they have to take the holsters, though?"

They tossed the blanket off and hooked a foot against the side of the mattress to sit up. Grimacing at the new spark of pain, they swung their healthy leg over the bed, then carefully guided the other one to follow. They took a deep breath, preparing themselves to try to stand until—

"Kova?" The tent shifted as someone poked their head in. "You alright?"

They didn’t need to turn to know who it was. They kept their back towards the entrance. “Mn. You can come in if you’d like, Clarke.”

Last night, Clarke had only been focused on disinfecting their wound while Octavia and Raven undressed them. She hadn’t seen anything other than their leg, not even their face.

Which was why her breath hitched at the sight of their tattoos. She had heard of tattoos before, but the tradition was lost on the Ark. An intricate armband circled around just above their elbow. Above the band, there was a thin line of blank skin before a new tattoo began — the ink became trees of a forest, with mountains and valleys ascending up their biceps, and a sun peaked out between two peaks of a mountain.

It wasn’t just the tattoos that surprised her, either. Circular scars took up the skin of Kova’s shoulder blade, too numerous to count. Kova twisted from their seat in bed, their shirt shifting along with them, revealing even more circular scars, as well as five circular tattoos following down their cheek bone. At the base of their neck, they had another tattoo, the exact same one that Lincoln had on his chest.

Clarke only snapped out of her stare when she accidentally made eye contact. “Sorry. Got lost in my thoughts.” She felt her ears and cheeks heat up. “We brought you here two nights ago — you were knocked out the whole day yesterday.”

“Mn. Makes sense. I feel like I slept for a whole day.” Their voice came out in a low, raspy murmur.

“I need to check up on the cut.” She said, raising a medical kit up.

“Go ahead.”

She went around the bed and knelt in front of them, opening up the med kit. Clarke drew the old bandage off the skin and inspected the wound. She felt eyes following every move she made. “It doesn’t look infected.” She looked up at Kova, whose gaze had solely been focused on her face.

“You look tired.” Kova answered her questioning look. “I’m guessing you’ve told your camp about me?”

The heavy sigh Clarke released made her shoulders slump. She started wrapping a fresh bandage over their calf. “Yeah. Some weren’t happy, but I doubt there’ll be any problems. We had to lie, just so you know. I told them that because you helped us, your people marked you as a traitor and you couldn’t return home.” 

A bitter laugh filled the tent. “Not a lie.”

Confused, Clarke looked back up at them.

Unaware of the blue eyes fixed on them, Kova leaned back against their arms, their distant gaze boring into the fabric of the tent. “By now, my clan will have raided my tent, my home, everything. Once they know I’m not there, they’ll ask around if anyone has seen me in the past few days. I’ll be marked as a traitor by the time the sun rises tomorrow.”

Her throat felt tight. She swallowed thickly. “Why did you do it, then?”

“Hmm?”

“If you knew your people would outcast you,” Clarke began packing her med kit. “why did you help us?”

“I hope you’re not expecting my answer to be, ‘because it was the right thing to do.’” One glance towards the sky leader proved Kova’s suspicions right, judging by the way she looked away from them. They shook their head, a breathy laugh tumbling out of their mouth. “No, no, my reasoning is selfish. I already had issues with my clan long before you came down, but once you arrived, our relationship snapped. It was a matter of time, I suppose. I needed to get away from them.”

There were no pros to telling Clarke the full story. After all, she was the invaders’ leader first, Clarke second. If she knew Trikru would be after their head soon, she might try to trade Kova in for a peace treaty or something. At least this way, Clarke might feel guilt over Kova losing their clan and allow them to stay permanently, and Kova can help around camp or whatever. It’s a win-win.

“But,” Kova continued, “I would like to be clear about one thing. I may no longer be loyal to my clan, but that does not mean I will be loyal to you.”

“Then, where does your loyalty lie?”

“My brother. And in conjunction, Octavia.”

“Octavia?”

“Mn. She’s my brother’s interest.”

Silence took over the tent.

“…interest?”

“Long story. Ask Octavia if you want to know. You don’t have to worry, though.”

“About what?”

“About me. Seeing as Octavia is part of your clan, my loyalty is as good as yours, even if it isn’t directly. I will not harm anyone here as long as they do not try to harm me. I can help with whatever you want me to help with.”

“I’ll… keep that in mind. And thank you.”

“For what?”

“You saved my life twice. Thank you.”

“…mn.” ‘I took responsibility.’

With that, Clarke made her way to exit the tent. Just as she placed her hand on the flap of the tent, Wells drew it open. They made eye contact but before he could say anything, she smiled ever so slightly and walked passed him. Ever since the incident with Charlotte, their relationship had gotten a lot better — Clarke apologized for how she treated him and blaming him for her father's death, and he forgave her immediately. But they still hadn't talked much. His eyes followed her until she left his sight, and he couldn’t stop the soft sigh that left his lips.

“You alright?” Came Kova’s voice from the inside of the tent.

Wells snapped out of his thoughts. He peeked into the tent and was greeted by Kova’s hunched back. “I should be asking you that.”

Ah. Truthfully, Kova though it was Clarke who sighed. They hadn’t expected this voice. “Yeah, I’m good. Just thinking.” They responded, elbows on top of their knees, the palm of their hand against their forehead. “What do you want?”

“I have water. You want?”

“…mn. Come in.”

Wells stepped around the bed and held the cup of water out. “I figured you might get thirsty.”

Kova skeptically glanced between him and the metal cup in his hand. They didn’t know if anyone might have tampered with the drink. Bringing the cup up to their mouth, they sniffed around it for a moment before taking a small sip. It tasted simply like water and had no type of fragrance. Once Kova felt like it was in the clear, they chugged the drink down.

“Thank you for saving Clarke.” Wells’ voice was gentle.

As they returned the cup with a thanks, they caught a glimpse of his bandaged right hand. The pointer and middle fingers were missing just below the second knuckle. ‘Hmm. Interesting. What kind of camp is this?’ Instead of asking, Kova sent Wells a kinder look, one people rarely saw. “No problem.”

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Wells left not too long after, giving Kova some privacy to change into their clothes. They could hear the bustling of the camp outside their safe little tent, of people talking and laughing with one another, of branches colliding into a pile together, of thick trunks creaking together to form a wall, of water boiling above a crackling fire.

If Kova closed their eyes and ignored the pain in their leg, ignored the tired ache of their muscles, and pretended like the invaders’ were speaking Trigedasleng—

Mn. It felt like they were back at TonDC’s training camp.

They would even bet that the moment they stepped out of the tent, all eyes would be on them, and the invaders would start talking, just as the Trikruvians did back at camp.

Well. At least they wouldn’t talk about Mount Caocin.

(Jump out of the frying pan, fall into the fire.)

They relished in the feeling for just a moment before taking a deep breath and opening their eyes. There was no point in feeling homesick — Trikru was never their home, it hadn’t been in three years.

(Was it ever?)

They secured their clothes, tied their dreads back and the mask on (better safe than sorry) and stood at the flaps of the tent. Neither Wells nor Clarke mentioned anything about allowing them to leave their tent. Hell, stepping outside would be a whole lot easier if they had been told they were a prisoner. But they were neither prisoner nor guest. 

Kova dealt with this before. They handled the side looks of warriors and civilians alike. They had knives shoved in their back by the same warriors they considered friends and kept walking. They handled the glare of the Chief and the interrogation of the General.

They could handle a couple of kids watching them.

Taking a deep breath, they let their hand push through the curtain and ease it open. Rays of sunlight attacked their eyes. They shielded themselves from the light with the other hand and stepped across the threshold.

Only a few delinquents glanced at them, and from that group an even a lesser amount of them outright stared before they went back to work.

…huh. Alright. Kova had been expecting more backlash—

Something crashed into their right thigh. Startled, they looked down only to find a young girl stumbling back, eyes shut, rubbing her forehead. If Kova hadn’t been wearing the mask, the young girl would have seen the worried look they had.

Instead, the young girl looked back up to apologize only to make eye contact with a very tall stranger wearing an absolutely terrifying mask. She gasped, eyes widening in fear as she stepped back and tripped over her tiny feet. She squeezed her eyes tight as her world went sideways, thinking ‘oh no, Fox just washed my clothes yesterday!’ and prepared for the crash—

One warm hand delicately wrapped around her wrist while another pressed against her back, helping the young girl steady herself. The moment the stranger’s hands retreated, she hid her face behind her hands, both in embarrassment and fear. But then she heard a soft laugh, not of mockery, but of fondness, affection, warmth, and she couldn’t help but peek through her fingers, watching as the now crouched stranger tipped the mask over their head, away from her view.

“You alright?” The stranger tilted their head questioningly before reaching up and picking a few leaves caught up in the young girl’s curly locks. “Make sure to watch where you’re going. You bumped your head quite hard.” They smoothed the back of their finger across her forehead.

“I’m okay, it didn’t hurt me that much. Sorry.” She mumbled, looking down at her worn shoes.

“Apology accepted. I’m sorry, too.”

“For what?”

“I scared you.” They reached back and untied the mask, letting it drop into their hand, making sure to keep the face away from her. “If I had known there were children here, I wouldn’t have worn it.”

“I’m not a child!”

“Is that so? How old are you then?”

“I’m seven.”

“Oh, I see, you grown grown. My apologies for calling you a child.” Kova looked down at their mask before offering it to the girl. “It’s pretty scary, right?”

Hesitantly, the young girl nodded, a small smile forming. “I’ve- I’ve never seen a mask like that before.”

“Mn. It’s my brothers. Do you want to see it? It’s less scary when there’s no one behind it.”

“Sure—!”

“Emmie!”

The young girl (’Emmie?’) snatched her hands back, startled, and whipped around.

Now that their little bubble had been popped, Kova realized the entire camp had been watching their every move like a hawk, as if they would hurt the child. Their set their jaw a little tighter than usual.

A pair of legs appeared at the corner of their eye, Emmie unwillingly behind them. Kova raised their gaze. The pair of legs belonged to a man, a familiar one at that. Ah. He had been there at the bridge, as back up—

Their eyes landed on a bandage plastered against his cheek. They were hit with an influx of memories and realized a lot more happened yesterday. Kova stood from their crouched position, face suddenly very serious.

Emmie didn’t like it. But before she could say anything, she felt a hand wrap around her wrist and pull her away. She looked up and found the hand belonged to Fox. Just before Fox pulled her around the corner, Emmie yelled, “Pretty stranger, see you later!”

Kova didn’t have low self esteem, but while they didn’t see themselves as ugly, they wouldn’t have used the term ‘pretty,’ either. They were caught off guard for just a moment, but before Emmie was dragged around the corner, they managed to respond with, “Mn, see you.”

They turned their attention back to the man. Their eyes unconsciously landed on the bandage once more before darting away in guilt. “My apologies for yesterday. I—”

“Whatever.” The man cut them off, leaving them in shock. He continued, “Clarke wants a word with you. Go to the dropship. I heard you already know where it is, right Kova?”

Still in shock at being cut off and his foul tone, his implication went over their head. Their jaw tensed, forehead creasing. “I was trying to apologize.”

“Don’t care. Go to the dropship.”

Kova opened their mouth, but before they could get a word out, the man turned away, heading to the location in question. They had to take a deep breath, silently begging the Gods to provide them with all the patience possible. Just before they could take a single step, Bellamy spoke over his shoulder. “And from now on, keep the mask on and stay away from the kids.”

The mask, they can understand, but something malicious settled in their stomach at the last half of his sentence. Their hands clenched at their sides. “I would rather die than hurt a child.”

Bellamy stopped in his tracks. “Good thing you won’t have to do either, since you’ll be staying away from the children.”

He kept walking.

Instead of arguing, they followed his footsteps, tying the mask back on. They were more angry at the implication of what they would do to the children rather than the order itself. But then again, they would never let Lykrian, Artigas, or any of the other TonDC children near an invader.

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Once the two arrived, Kova couldn’t help but take note of the dropship’s design. After all, the last time they had been here, they were too busy with saving their brother to notice the harsh lighting, the seats along the walls, most taken out of place and leaving behind an imprint. Boxes were now stacked neatly in one of the corners, rather than haphazardly like they had been last time. Kova followed Bellamy to the back and found Clarke sitting at a table with six empty seats and a cup of what seemed to be tea.

While Kova stood by the entrance and bowed their head, waiting to be invited, Bellamy simply sauntered in and plopped himself in the chair across Clarke’s.

“Come in, sit.” Clarke patted the chair next to her.

“Mn.” Hesitantly, they pulled out the chair between her and Bellamy. She nodded, and they sat down, back rigid. “I was told you wanted to see me.”

“I wanted to go over what happened at the meeting before the grounders attacked.” 

Before Clarke could say anything further, Kova interrupted. “I believe you have it the wrong way — Trikru did not attack first.”

“Jasper said they were ready to shoot Clarke down.” Bellamy said, crossing his arms, sending him his best glare. “We were protecting ourselves.”

“Did you not have your sights set on the Lieutenant?” Kova questioned without sparing a glance towards him, preferring to stare straight at the wall. “Just as your back up had their finger on the trigger, Trikru, too, notched their arrows in preparation. That does not mean they would have attacked without prompt. I told you on the bridge that guns weren’t allowed,” they directed their words to Clarke, “the causalities on Trikru’s side far outweigh what you have here.”

Standing from his chair, Bellamy scoffed and walked away from the table to pace around the tent. Kova wondered if he did that a lot. By the way Clarke sent him a worried glance every minute or two, it seemed so.

“Speaking of unprovoked,” Clarke continued. “Anya said something along the lines that we had attacked Trikru unprovoked too many times to be considered unintentional. Do you know what she was talking about?”

“…A few come to mind.”

“A few?” Bellamy let out a bitter laugh. “A few? What kind of bullshit — we’ve been here for less than two weeks, what could we have possibly done to them—?”

“Shall we start from the beginning?” Kova’s sharp tone interrupted him with a chill he hadn’t felt by anyone before. With every point, they counted off a finger. “Crossing the forbidden river, almost alerting the Mountain’s fog, risking the lives of many hunters and living animals, and then—”

“When was that?”

“When you first landed. I believe you had sent out a scavenger team. You were there too, now that I recall.”

It took the two invaders to realize what they talked about.

“What, Jasper? When he swung over the river?”

“Mn. Across the river is a no access zone. We’re not sure why, but that area around Mount Weather triggers an acid fog from the forest and passes a good kilometer or two past the river. The day Jasper crossed was when the hunters and gatherers were out.”

Bellamy seemed to have pieced whatever pieces he had together, and his face contorted in anger. "Then were you the one who speared him?!”

Immediately, Kova shook their head. “I heard of the incident, but it was not me.”

Noting Bellamy’s face, Clarke diverted the subject. “What else did we do?”

“After you landed, you destroyed large portions of the forest, burned down the Srathme Springs and the village with it—”

“Anya mentioned that. I already explained that was an accident. We had to send fireworks up to save our people still stuck on the Ark.” There were not many ways of excusing yourself from a mass murder, intentional or not, and this was not one of them. It sounded more of an excuse than a reason. “Our people in space — on the Ark — were running out of oxygen. 300 people volunteered to sacrifice themselves so the others can have more time. We had a radio to contact them so they didn’t have to lower the population, but it, uh…” She sent another look near Bellamy's direction, one he didn't notice. “It didn’t work.”

Truthfully, Kova hadn’t been paying attention to her excuse, but the way her tone faltered and how Bellamy tensed caught their attention. “Oh? And why do you keep looking at him for?”

Bellamy snapped his head towards the two. Clarke looked away guiltily. Kova kept their face as neutral as possible as if they hadn't exposed the invaders' leader. "What, did you mess with the radio or something?”

Clarke stiffened. Bellamy looked away. Neither responded.

“Hmm. Interesting. Well. Either way, your radio would have been useless.”

That caught the invaders' attention. “Why?” Clarke asked.

Kova looked down, picking the dirt from under their nail casually. “I'm not sure what the exact science is behind it, but radios don’t work around these parts, specifically Trikru, Azgeda, and Sangedakru, but I think parts of Podakru, Ouskejonkru, and Boudalankru that are closer to us also have the same issue. Something about the lingering radiation.

“Regardless, people died at the Srathme Springs. The remaining villagers were relocated.” Kova continued. “The Springs had also been heavily damaged, which means no mining or mineral collection. With one move, you managed to kill both Trikru’s people and its economy, especially in its sword making and arts. Congrats.”

Bellamy placed both hands on the back of his head, restraining a groan.

Clarke swallowed thickly. “Anya also said something else. Something about the library?”

Kova stilled completely. They turned their head towards Clarke, blinking a few times with wide eyes. “What?”

“What?”

“What happened to the library?” Their fingers tensed against the wood of the table.

“She didn’t say it completely burned down, but it had been heavily damaged from the fire. Why?”

Kova leaned over the table, dropping their head into their hands. “I didn’t hear about that. Fuck.”

“Watch your fucking language.” Bellamy snapped.

Clarke ignored him, inching closer towards the grounder. “Why, is it important?”

They couldn’t bare to look at dead people walking. They let out a heavy sigh. “How badly did you need the peace treaty?”

Well. If that wasn't ominous, Clarke didn't know what was. “Pretty badly, we didn’t know there were people alive here. If we did, we would have been more careful.”

“Too late for that.” Kova muttered.

“Will you just tell us what’s going on?” Bellamy snapped again, fists clenching.

“The damaging of a major library, like the one at Srathme’s village, is considered as one of, if not the most heinous way of declaring war.” Kova shook their head, scrubbing their face with their hands. “I should have known. No wonder the Lieutenant and the General had been planning for war since. I though they were just preparing for the worst case scenario.”

“War? Over a library? Why is it so important?” Clarke asked.

“When the Foresakening happened, naturally most books perished from both radiation and age. The previous commander, Rha, tried to destroy the little remaining knowledge we had left under the guise of ‘moving on from our past.’ We all knew he wanted to paint his version of history instead of what really happened, and the elders wouldn’t have it. After his downfall, all books were ordered to be preserved and copied, but minor libraries simply carry the copies of the preserved books. Major libraries hold both the copies and the original texts. They are also the epicenters of the copiers.” Kova pulled away from their hands, leaning back in their chair. “Meaning, you messed up real bad.”

“What should we do?” Clarke asked.

“Fuck if I know.” Kova threw their hands in the air in frustration. “You won’t get whatever treaty you want — hell, I’m shocked they didn’t shoot you on site back at the bridge.”

“Clarke!”

The group turned in their seats. One of the invaders had interrupted, calling for the leader from outside the dropship. “Myles keeps vomiting, can you check in on him?”

“Yes, I’ll be out in a minute!” She called back. She stood, but just before she left, she tapped Bellamy’s shoulder. “You two talk. I’ll be back in a second.”

While the two nodded, the moment Clarke left, they fell into silence. Bellamy had sat back down, but refused to even acknowledge their presence.

“Name.”

Bellamy faced them with a confused look. “What?”

“You never told me your name.”

“…Bellamy. Octavia’s brother.”

“…mn.”

“…”

They fell back in silence.

Bellamy grew frustrated. “Well?”

“What?”

“Aren’t you going to tell me your name?”

“You know my name already. You said it before.”

They weren’t wrong, but wasn’t it polite to introduce yourself? Ooh, Bellamy almost cursed them out on the spot.

Suddenly, Kova started talking again. “Our current commander, Lexa. Her campaign was almost solely based on restoring the libraries. If she knows what happened, she won’t let you get off free.”

“We have guns, I’d like to see her try.” His tone full of arrogance, he couldn’t help but lean back comfortable in his chair.

“Do you think this is a joke?” Their words were almost as sharp as their glare. “Are you willing to kill more people than you already have?”

Bellamy stood up, knocking his chair back. Kova followed his actions, hands tensing by their sides.

“Hey.” His tone deepened in warning. He stepped closer to the grounder, although he couldn’t help but hesitate when they didn’t move back like he expected. “Watch your mouth.”

“You know, I don’t think I will.” That hesitation was all it took for Kova to take up the rest of the space between them, pressing the tip of their finger against his chest to push him back lightly. It was only when he forcibly took a small step back did Kova realize that they were a good few centimeters taller than him. Good. They could practically tower over him with the way they were acting. "At the bridge, you and your friends had the same job as those scouts did. Trikru’s scouts didn’t shoot first. But why are you and yours so adamant on villainizing my people?” They leaned in, anger flashing in their eyes. “They aren’t the ones who killed over — What did Clarke say before? 300 people?”

A hand wrapped around their wrist, and Kova found themselves being back into a table, the edge pressing against the back of their thighs. Their nostrils flared in anger, but before they could growl out a warning they suddenly found themselves far too close to his face, their breaths mingling with his. But that wasn't what shocked them.

No, what shocked them was his pale freckled face, one of malnutrition and stress than the lack of sun, his dark, hooded eyes, prominent bags and lines underneath that screamed exhaustion.

It was Kova's own face looking back at them.

One of grief, of remorse and regret.

Unconsciously, they backed up, nudging the table askew.

“I already know what I’ve done. I have to live with it now, and I don’t need someone like you to remind me.” As much as Bellamy tried to seem threatening, he felt on the edge of falling apart.

Kova rarely stuttered, and while this wasn't a stutter, the hesitation behind their words made them uncomfortable. “You…feel guilt?”

His hand subtly relaxed around their wrist, loose fingers curling around their pulse point. Bellamy opened his mouth, but before he could answer, the sounds of footsteps entered the main area of the dropship. Bellamy stepped back and sniffed, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand, and turned away.

The curtain's cutting off the main area to the small corner shifted. Kova attempted to lean casually against the table, crossing their arms. The area where his hand had been felt hot to the touch.

Clarke appeared. “Everything okay? I was worried you two would bite each others heads off.” She joked before returning to her place next to the table. While she continued to talk about the meeting, Kova was still reeling over what just happened. They absentmindedly rubbed their wrist a few times before snapping out of their stupor and joining the conversation.

When Kova glanced at Bellamy, he turned away.

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