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Gravity \| Book I: Amidst the Chaos	By : Prophecy Category: 1 through F > The 100 Views: 2331 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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This storm of thorns is growing, there's no end in sight
Chaos claws my jaw & incites a mental riot
I'm in the mouth of madness with a tongue of poetry
I ate the spine of Atlas
Now the world is crushing me
I hate my life, buried alive behind enemy lines
- Otep, 'Buried Alive'

A/N: The atlas is the first cervical vertebrae (C1) of the spinal column and is responsible for supporting the weight of the skull. It is named after the Titan of Greek mythology, Atlas, whom Zeus punished by forcing him to hold the sky up on his shoulders.
A/N2: In Greek mythology, Danae was kept locked in a bronze room by her father, Acrisius, because the oracle foretold that Danae would have a son who would kill Acrisius.

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Octavia lashed Clarke to the tree, binding her hands separately to her waist with just enough slack for her to reach her mouth and tossed a roll of cloth with smoked meat and a bota bag of water into her lap with slightly more force than necessary. She sat on a stray log opposite her and pulled out the sword bearing the mark of the Coalition Lexa had presented her with and began unnecessarily sharpening the blade of it while Indra's voice echoed in her head.

"Distraction is the enemy of your enemy. Make them nervous and you will learn something from them."

Octavia slowly and deliberately scraped the stone over the blade with a steady cadence as Clarke ate and drank quietly, her face solemn but otherwise unreadable.

"You're not going to eat?" Clarke broke the silence after awhile, studying her curiously.

Octavia ignored her, as she'd been doing all day. Aside of the greeting, she'd spoken three times; "No", "Wait", and "Eat". She was well aware that it was driving Clarke a little crazy, and that was the point. Not to mention, she was mildly afraid that any conversation with Clarke would lead to an overwhelming desire to shut her up that would directly violate the whole "alive and unharmed" order from Lexa.

Occasional sighs and throat-clearing from Clarke was the only sound breaking up the natural music of the forest and rhythmic scraping of stone on metal until she finally snapped a little. "Would you say something?"

Octavia slowly looked up at her, the scar on her cheek shifting when her eyes narrowed a little. "What do you want me to say, Clarke? That what you pulled at Mount Weather was cowardly and fucked up? That you made a mess and left it for the rest of us to clean up? I figured you knew all that already, but if you wanna hear it again.."

Clarke swallowed hard. "I had to save our people."

"'We' don't have people anymore. Ai laik kom Trikru, Skygirl." Octavia practically snarled, her eyes flashing.

Clarke's face hardened a little. "So Bellamy isn't your people? I should have let them put a bullet in his head, in Raven's, in Jasper and Monty's? That's what you would have preferred?"

Octavia stabbed her sword into the ground and moved in, squatting in front of Clarke, her face only an inch or two away and enjoying the look of hesitation that appeared in her pale blue eyes. "Bellamy would never have told you to do what you did. None of them would have." She shifted even further into Clarke's personal space, her voice tightening just a little bit. "You betrayed the Commander, the truce with the Coalition, the people in Mount Weather that helped us, the grounders taken by the maunon, and your own people! You left all of us there without a word, left us to clean up your mess, and forced us to kill everyone in the mountain."

Clarke shifted a little, pulling her shoulders up and tilting her head, her body language trying to convey that she wasn't afraid of Octavia despite definitely being afraid of Octavia. "And now every grounder respects and fears you, don't they? So shouldn't you be thanking me for forcing your hand, Wanheda?" she said in a sardonic whisper.

Octavia faltered for only a moment, but it was long enough for Clarke to swing her hands just slightly beyond the reach of the bonds, her wrists popping painfully as she yanked Octavia's dangling braid hard on her way to grab the knife from her thigh. She lifted her leg quickly at the same time, effectively flipping Octavia to the ground while still holding her hair, slamming her to the ground on a pile of thick branches and knocking the wind out of her.

Clarke quickly worked the knife into the rope around her, slicing through the bindings as vigorously as she could, knowing it wouldn't take long for Octavia to recover. She'd only gotten through two rope loops when she felt Octavia's powerful fist connecting with her cheek like a brick. The force of it propelled Clarke's other cheek into the bark of the tree she was tied to. Octavia reared back again instinctively, but caught herself, slowly rising to her full height in front of Clarke, who was now bleeding from several spots on her face and glaring at her.

Octavia casually wiped the blood from her own mouth and the corner of her eye where she'd hit the ground and smiled darkly. "Nice try, Skygirl, but Heda wants you alive, and that's how she'll get you. She'd prefer if you were unharmed, but trust me, that part is not a deal-breaker." Octavia kicked her hip just hard enough to hurt but not to inhibit her ability to walk, enjoying the clipped cry of pain Clarke let out. "I might be the Commander of Death, but you're the bringer of it, Princess."

She gave Clarke another swift kick, more out of annoyance than anything else, and pulled the bonds on her wrists tighter once more to ensure she wasn't going anywhere. She spat the blood in her mouth right into Clarke's face, muttering, "Nomonjoka," as she headed through the trees to the creek running just a few dozen yards away.

Octavia crouched beside the clear stream and removed her bracers, splashing the cold water on her face a few times and cleaning her hands, trying to ignore the fact that they trembled slightly as she scrubbed Clarke's blood off her knuckles. She shut her eyes tightly for a moment, gathering herself and letting a slow breath out before spitting another mouthful of her own blood into the water.

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Octavia never opened her eyes when she was in the Hole.

If she had, she wouldn't have seen anything, anyway; but with her eyes closed, she could pretend she was somewhere else. In bed, maybe, cuddled up against her mom or Bellamy, feeling safe and warm and like she could be any other little girl growing up in space.

She'd never seen space, of course. She'd never seen anything but metal walls and the infinite darkness of the Hole.

Bellamy tried to make it seem less awful, and she loved him for it. He called it practicing for the invasion of Troy. Said someday Octavia would emerge from the Hole like a warrior inside the Trojan horse and change everything. It was a nice thought—all of the stories he told her were nice thoughts—but Octavia had known they would never come true; that she would have to live under the floor her whole life.

As she grew older and taller, the Hole became more and more of a source of dread for her.

Fifteen years old and she lay beneath their feet, curled into a ball with her head tucked down to her chest to make herself fit. She'd stopped thinking of it as the Hole the day she could no longer lay stretched out in it and begun thinking of it as her coffin instead. That was the same moment she realized that even her dead body would get her mother floated, and so the girl who lived under the floor would one day become the girl who died under the floor and then, finally, the girl whose grave was under the floor.

Octavia would never have a friend, never go on a date, never see the stars or the Earth. She would certainly never travel the way her namesake had done as a child. She'd considered it a lot, and she felt that her name should have been Danae, who also spent much of her life locked in a metal room. But then, Danae got a happy ending, too, and that was the one thing she felt certain about: there would never be a happy ending for her.

Sometimes, on her worst days, she would lower herself into the Hole when Bellamy and her mom were at work. She would close the hatch and force her eyes to stay open as she punched the inside of her cage more and more furiously. She relished the feeling of the blood droplets that landed on her face as she broke the skin on her knuckles against the floor that held her prisoner. With each hit, her skin grew tougher, her muscles grew stronger, and her mind grew darker.

This was truth, and because it was truth, Octavia, the girl who feared the floor, feared the dark, would have to die. She was far too weak to survive here, with her stupid mythology and games and stories, and her fantasies about ever living anywhere but inside this cold metal box, alone. No, Octavia would have to die and take her fairy tales with her to make room for the monster growing inside.

Little girls who lived under the floor didn't get happy endings; but monsters didn't need them.

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"Commanders don't get happy endings either," Lexa spoke from the dais she was reclined on, still in her sleeping gown and sipping honeyed dandelion tea.

Octavia's fingers deftly wound through her hair as she parted, braided, and tied the long curls into place. "I wouldn't think so. I mean, it's not like you get to set daun gon bilaik Heda when you get old or something."

Lexa smiled sadly as she finished off her tea and set the tin cup aside. "It would be nice if I could, though."

Octavia carefully tied off the last braid, guiding it over Lexa's shoulder and patting her back lightly. "Oso ste odon, Leksa."

"Mochof, strisis." Lexa stood slowly and inspected her hair in the mirror. Octavia went to the closet and retrieved Lexa's armor and coat while the Commander changed out of her nightgown, taking care not to displace any of Octavia's careful work on her head.

"Mantle or pauldrons?" Octavia asked curiously as she laid out the armor pieces anatomically at the foot of the bed.

"Mantle, beja. I have a meeting with the ambassadors from Trishanakru and Louwada Kliron Kru."

"Azgeda gapa-skrish again?" Octavia made a face when Lexa nodded. "Of course it's Azgeda, that was a dumb question." She laid the mantle out carefully beside the coat, thinking about the lack of options in the life of a Commander, and really the life of any natblida. "Have any other Commanders ever had partners?"

"Bed partners, yes. Everyone has physical needs, of course. But lovers? Only one I am aware of. Two Commanders ago, Heda Zynbel kom Boudalankru brought Dillion kom Podakru, the boy he had sworn fealty to, with him to Polis when he ascended."

Lexa, now dressed, came to the bed, her back to Octavia as she stretched her arms out to the sides so she could put her duster on. "What happened to them?"

Lexa bit her lip, experiencing the painful memory in her head and feeling Zynbel's heart breaking all over again. "At the time, Podakru and Sangedakru were at war over resources, mostly water. Sangedakru captured Dillion so Heda would order Podakru to provide Sangedakru with half of their water without trade."

Octavia carefully buckled the series of belted armor around Lexa's waist. "And when it didn't work, they killed Dillion?"

Lexa was silent for a moment, watching Octavia adjust the straps. "No, it worked. Zynbel issued the order and was killed by a Sangedakru assassin the same day, and Dillion drowned himself when he received the news."

Octavia paused, meeting Lexa's pained gaze, her voice very quiet. "I'm sorry."

Lexa shrugged a little as Octavia tightened the last strap and retrieved her chest armor. "This is why Titus is angry about my fee--" She cleared her throat a little. "About Clarke."

"He thinks she'll get you killed, too." Octavia stated quietly. Lexa gave one of her signature tight nods, studiously avoiding her gaze, her cheeks flushed a little. "You still have feelings for her." That was also a statement, and Octavia didn't need to see Lexa's nod this time. "There's nothing wrong with that, you know."

Lexa's eyes shifted sideways as she tilted her head so Octavia could work the closures. "After what she did, all thirteen clans will want to see her die at my hand. They will never accept her. They would kill her and then me."

"They won't accept her as your partner, no." Octavia brushed her hair out of the way to attach the other side. "As your prisoner, though? Under jus nou drein jus daun?"

Lexa turned to face her quickly, searching her face curiously. "Are you suggesting—"

Octavia shrugged as she connected the last strap and grabbed the Mantle of the Commander. "As far as anyone outside would know, you sen em op gon taingeda. The rest is nobody's business."

As she clipped the Mantle into place and straightened her hair out once more, a small smile began to spread across Lexa's cheeks as she felt a tiny pang of hope in her chest for the first time since the Mountain War.

"Yu laik pri bos for a girl who grew up in a box, Octavia."

Octavia smiled and gently tugged a braid over Lexa's shoulder as a final touch.

"So are you, Heda."
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Gravity | Book I: Amidst the Chaos