❛ the ground. that's the dream. ❜
On the list 𝘓𝘺𝘳𝘢 𝘑𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘛𝘰𝘱 𝘛𝘦𝘯 𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘔𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘖𝘧 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦, getting arrested is definitely up there. But, hey! At least there's a silver lining ━━ getting shoved into a drops...
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THE ROAD TO TONDC is a miserable, beaten dirt-brown. Sunbeams seethe overhead.
Lyra's bangs are sticky against her forehead. Sweat trickles down her underarms. An entourage surrounds her; a Grounder rider takes the head, the Commander and her guard bringing up the rear on horseback. Their armor glistens bronze in the sunlight. Bellamy and Clarke walk some feet ahead. Their heads are bowed together, a rigidity in their backs. Behind her is Octavia and Lincoln, nearby Abby and Kane. Her own dad hadn't come with them, something he fought Kane against with very colorful language; but Camp Jaha could not be left undefended and, at the present time, her dad's been promoted to Commander of the Guard.
Sitting in the horse-drawn cart is Raven. Her expression is void, emotionless. She sits with Finn's corpse.
Finn's body belongs to the people of Tondc, as the Commander has declared. He will not be buried by his own people. Raven will not get to hold a proper funeral. This is not the way of the Grounders. Instead, he will be burned at the village he slaughtered.
Murderer and murdered joined together by fire.
"Raven," Lyra's voice is an inhuman croak as she approaches the mechanic. "Clarke says you have the radio parts. She wants us to establish a connection with Mount Weather."
"Get the hell away from me."
And suddenly Raven is thunderous. Shaking the earth like a hurricane. It used to be so rare for her voice to be lifted in rage at Lyra and yet lately that seems to be the only way Lyra can talk to her. Fury ripples across her face is smoke-colored waves as Raven glares at her with unbridled disgust.
Lyra swallows. "I'm sorry about Finn — "
"I said get the hell away from me, Jupiter."
Lyra staggers to a halt, the world swimming as her eyes suddenly become blurry. Her hands furl and unfurl rapidly as she takes in very short breaths.
"Lyra," Lincoln's deep baritone meets her. "The world is watching."
Startled, Lyra realized he and Octavia have come up upon both of her sides. The two warriors flank her and she forces herself to look up with a shuddering breath. Lincoln is right. The procession ahead of them has stopped completely; Bellamy is gazing at her with his brows knit in concern. She looks away from him hurriedly only to see the Commander watching her from behind. Scrutinizing her. Sizing her up.
