𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭︱octavia blake, book 2

( twenty-seven )

Loss and grief was an emotion Harley had no choice but to accept since her first day on Earth. She had always visioned the planet to be full of peace and beautiful plants, where her and her people could finally live in peace. That all changed on the first day, when she watched a spear be thrown and hit Jasper directly in the chest. He wasn't gone, but so many were. People she cared about, people she loved. The love gave Harley a weakness, and that was the agony that would come when they died. It came when she was told Octavia was dead. It didn't fade, it didn't stop aching for one second in the time her, Bellamy and Kane were held as Ice Nation's hostages and forced to Arkadia.

The tears eventually stopped, but Harley's cheeks were wet and stained red. She would have still been crying if a bag wasn't put over her head and she didn't feel numb. She had fought the grounder who dragged her away at Roan's order, up until she was put on a horse. She didn't move then, growing paralyzed as every thought of Octavia ran through her head. There was so many things Harley could have told her, maybe she could have done something more, beginning with maybe she should haven't left her alone.

The grounder who had been gripping Harley while leading the horse slipped off, forcing her down as well. She stumbled, holding her bound wrists to her chest as he keeps his grip on her bent elbow and directs her forward. Harley can't see through the bag except for the sunlight shining through a few tiny holes, and she staggered weakly a few times, bumping into Ice Nation grounders before she hears Clarke's voice. "We need to talk!" Harley freezes as the grounder stops, keeping her still.

"Little late for that," Roan countered this time. "Reinja! Lok Wanheda in!" He shouted in command. (Archers! Target Wanheda!)

"Lid honon de in!" Echo's voice follows after him. (Bring the prisoners.) The grounder holding Harley's arm tightened his clasp, heaving her ahead. Once she's out of the crowd, he pushed her downward until she falls into a crouch on her knees and rips the bag off her head. The loose hair sticks to Harley's skin as her glossy eyes adjusting to the light. She's in the middle of two cliffs on each side, on the right of Bellamy who had Kane on his left. Behind them is an army of Ice Nation warriors, but the one person ahead is the one Harley keeps her gaze on.

It's Clarke, who had changed her grounder clothing for the ones Skaikru held. Her eyes are wide, caught off guard by the sight of the three. Roan noticed so, and from behind them, calls out. "Your move, Wanheda." Swords are suddenly pointed at the three of them, but Harley doesn't flinch, remaining still.

"Ten minutes," Clarke pleaded. "That's all I ask."

It doesn't take long for Roan to cave. Harley sees why when he slips off his horse and walks by them, following Clarke past fallen rocks. Green lights are beaming at him from different directions, from what she assumed is the guard's snipers. "Wait, where she's going? What if it's a trap?" Echo hollered after him in alarm.

"It is a trap," Roan retorted. "We're already in it."

Harley's hair falls as her head lifts, squinting as Roan leaves. The lights flicker off, but his words linger in her head. It is a trap. "They knew," Harley mumbled in realization, her voice hoarse from the earlier screaming. Kane turned his head to peer over Bellamy and look at her questionably. "They knew," Harley repeated, her thoughts whirring too fast for her to keep up. "How did they know?" She whispered.