BELLAMY BLAKE
COURT Unseelie
TITLE Speaker of Darkness (✮✮) The Bloodied Hand (✮✮✮)
OCCUPATION Soldier.
ABLE TO FAST-TRAVEL Yes.
RESIDENCE IN 2,701 Spire 3.
RESIDENCE IN 2,702 Spire 3.
MAJOR EVENTS
HIGHLIGHT
Fox Cult Investigation Quest [ ✖ ]
HIGHLIGHT
Description [ ✖ ]
HIGHLIGHT
Description [ ✖ ]
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PLANS
Sneaking onto the Seelie side, investigating the Cult of the Fox, attending far more parties/festivals than he ever has before in his entire life. Bringing anarcho-communism to the drabwurld. (cr plans)
SUMMARY OF KNOWN DETAILS
✪ Sword training and combat training (PARKOUR) with Jason
✪ Magic training with the Magic Guild
✪ Working as a letter runner, including over Seelie lines.
✪ After gaining fast travel + shard concealment, making several trips over to the Seelie side, both to look for his people and to spy for Morla. Making Seelie contacts.
✪ Investigating the Cult of the Fox and becoming a target of the cult.
✪ From July onward: avoiding assassination attempts by the Cult of the Fox.
✪ Attending various holidays: Beltane, Samhain, Yule, etc.
✪ Working on Saber's R&D tech team, as a field tester/security.
✪ Looks into the Midnight Court.
TIMELINE OF EVENTS
| SPRING IN 2,701 (Mar, Apr, May) |
- MARCH - Takes advantage of the Monarch Audience and gains a means of shard concealment (thanks to Clarke saving Unseelie shards in battle, both their shards are concealed full time). He and Clarke take on a quest from Waver. When the snow rolls in, he does his best to help unfreeze things.
- APRIL - Bellamy continues sword and magic training and decides he really hates harps.
- MAY - Starts off the month with Beltane. He takes his first trip into Seelie territory later, checking out Caer Glaem and the area around it. Starts looking into the Cult of the Fox via Seelies. Kills some swans because fuck swans.
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| SUMMER IN 2,701 (Jun, Jul, Aug) |
- JUNE - Attends the tourney in Treun! Makes a second trip into seelie territory, this time centering on the Cothromach. Befriends some people with connections to the Cult of the Fox, begins the process of sending them undercover.
- JULY - Third tip into Glaschu, where following the Cult of the Fox leads him to Daonna just in time to witness the hangings. When he returns to the third spire, he and Clarke get a decapitated surprise and become a targets of the Cult of the Fox.
- AUGUST - Let's avoid sneaking around this month, ok? Ok! Works on more magic training, attends some festivals, and follows Clarke to the 8th and 9th Spires to help set up the spire clinics.
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| FALL IN 2,701 (Sept, Oct, Nov) |
- SEPTEMBER - Fourth trip into Glaschu, Parrais. Wreath Festival! Starts learning Blood Magic from Clarke and they adopt a dog (which he names Rhea Silvia).
- OCTOBER - Bellamy goes to Redgate midmonth, attends the opening of its theatre. Samhain: Bellamy and Clarke make offerings to the Black Shuck, and he manages to actually Dance and Have fun during the following festivities.
- NOVEMBER - As a former delinquent, the prison break is of course Very Scary. Continues with magic and combat training.
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| WINTER IN 2,701/2,702 (Dec, Jan, Feb) |
- DECEMBER - Yule! the Hare Hunt!
- JANUARY - Stuff and things!!! Another trip into Glaschu, checking on Caer Glaem before hitting up the Cothromach again.
- FEBRUARY - Ostara Festival in Parrais. Visits the art gallery with Clarke. At the end of the month, falls asleep and canon updates, gaining memories of infiltrating Mount Weather and joining up with Maya inside.
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| SPRING IN 2,702 (Mar, Apr) |
- MARCH - Nearly gets killed in Parrais by the Cult via broken balcony. Zombies must die aka takes out some of the undead.
- APRIL - Agrees to be bait for the Cult of the Fox in hopes of luring in members to capture for the Red Hand.
- MAY - ¿ we just don't know ?
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![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
late february
her throat closes and another wave of nausea and panic washes over her, ice cold down her spine, a weight in her chest she just can't shake. she can't think about Finn, she can't.
instead her eyes fall back over Bellamy where he continues to sleep, where he can't be roused awake. she's heard of it, the enchanted sleep that people don't wake from; it can last a week or, in some cases, those who fell to rest and haven't woken again since the network shut down. the idea that it could have been her, that it could be Bellamy now- that's what has her more upset than anything else, she's sure.
the thought that he might be asleep for an eternity and that she'll face this alone, without his constant presence at her side, without the comfort of his hand in hers.
(she continues counting, it's been almost seven hours now, and she stays put sitting in the bed next to him, back propped against the headboard.)
Clarke forces her attention back to her sketchbook. she's filled four pages already, trying to draw out everything she saw in the vision of the Drabwurld. of monsters and mazes of fire, of smoke that burned down her lungs. she fills the pages with memories of a future that she hopes never come to pass, but then-
but then she stops focusing so much on what she's doing. draws hands and fingers she's long memorized, draws familiar eyes, draws the smile that she's seen more frequently during their time in the Drabwurld. she draws Bellamy, because she's scared, and because all she wants is for him to wake up. )
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[His eyes snap to her immediately, realizing she's there before he even sees her. She's awake, and that much at least manages to give him some semblance of relief against the worry (and panic) he couldn't shake off after she'd fallen asleep and he couldn't wake her up, and he struggles to sit up properly against stiff muscles.]
Clarke. [His voice is hoarse, and he's not sure if it's because he's been asleep for god knows how long, or if it's because of everything he saw while it happened. The metal around his neck, his hands around Lovejoy's. Finn.]
[Bellamy draws in a sharp breath and runs a hand over his face, through his hair, reaching out blindly with the other until he touches some part of her beside him, fingers ghosting on her leg as he grounds himself with the contact and pulls himself fully out of the weeklong dream.]
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she feels like she shouldn't be allowed to have this, not after what she did back in their world, even if it was just a dream.
but she has to do her best right now, he needs her to, she needs herself to. she forces up a thin smile, reaching her hand down to rest atop his, thumb stroking over the back of his hand, an effort in comfort. she doesn't know what he's learned about home, if anything at all, and the last thing she needs to do is try and explain I sent you to die. )
Hey. Welcome back.
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You too. [Right?? That makes sense - she was out too. She's awake now. They're both back, and he hopes she wasn't sitting there alone for the same amount of time he was, though he suspects it's a dumb hope to have.]
[Bellamy finally sits up, resting one elbow on his leg as he leans his head into his hand. Part of him still feels like he should be there, inside Mount Weather, not here with Clarke where it's safer. But even looking down at his clothes, they're the dark ones he remembered last - not the uniform stolen from Lovejoy's corpse.]
[He exhales suddenly, still holding her hand. It's - so calm, sitting here like this. It's so jarring and he's tense with the memories, except in his hand where his fingers with hers are both iron and gentle.] I saw home.
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the comfort in having Bellamy be awake is immediate, and it's almost impossible for the anxiety and upset of home to eclipse that. Clarke might not know how to grapple with her new memories, but she knows she would be far less capable of doing it without Bellamy here.
there's a tightness to her voice when she finally speaks up, and she intends to tell him that she dreamed of him, too. that it wasn't just him, but- )
I didn't know if you were going to wake up. ( she swallows back the lump in her throat, gripping his hand a little tighter. it all comes out in a rush after that, like if she doesn't get everything out now, her throat might close around her words. ) I dreamed of home and woke up, and I wasn't sure if you'd stay asleep like other people have, and I didn't- I didn't know what to do. ( I was scared. )
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[His grip tightens too, as desperate as it is reassuring.] Like hell I'd just sleep my way through this place. [It's meant to be lighthearted, but he means it. Like hell I'd leave you alone here.]
[Bellamy's other hand moves, quietly cupping her face, thumb on her cheek. He startles himself with the contact, almost enough to pull away, but he keeps it there, keeps his gaze on her stubbornly. Between the pictures of home (hanging from his ankles, his blood drained before he drained someone else's) maybe he needs a little proof that his hands aren't just for killing. Between that and the visions, the spire collapsing as the biggest welcome back fuck you, the contact is more grounding than he wants to analyze. So he just rolls with it. He wants her attention.] I'm awake now. It's done.
[That she'd been scared, on his behalf, might have scared him a year ago, but he's long since come to terms with how similarly he'd feel (and has felt).] It's okay. We're okay.
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( her voice catches after that, because she isn't. she's really not. it was easier back home, it was so much easier. because she had been given the same choice there as she had here after Nuala had died. the option to turn it off and push it away; the grief and the guilt and the overwhelming pain of it. but back here- back in the Drabwurld she promised not to, she promised too many people, and now she's terrified that she doesn't know how to navigate it this time. )
I killed- ( her breath catches and she grips his hand hard enough that her own fingers ache, and her shoulders start toe shake from how hard she's trying to not cry. she can't, she can't, because she isn't sure she'll be able to stop if she starts to. her voice shakes, pitches higher, and she isn't going to cry, she isn't- ) Bellamy, I-
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[His expression collapses with hers, and there's a part of him that's glad she doesn't repeat as she'd done at home and close herself off. But the other part hurts for how much she's hurting.]
I know. [His voice is gentle as his hand moves from her face to the back of her head, and he lets go of her hand so he can pull her towards him, arm wrapping solidly around her. He couldn't do this before, for too many reasons to care about. He understands her choice, and he'd told her so at home too; there isn't an ounce of blame in his tone or frame. It doesn't mean it'll get any easier, but she is Clarke and he is Bellamy, and they wouldn't have gotten this far if they didn't understand even the most haunted parts of each other.] I know.
[She doesn't have to say it, she doesn't have to do or say anything she can't bring herself to, because he already knows. All he can do is just - keep holding her, cradling her head with Finn's death hanging in the air between them.]
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she killed Finn and he thanked her for it. she can still remember Raven's cry of pain when Clarke had stepped away, remembers the way Finn's blood slicked her hands, remembers the way he haunted her after.
and she remembers sending Bellamy away.
Clarke's hands shake as she leans into him heavily, more than she means or wants to, but the solid presence of him is all that's keeping her together. she's a million pieces of herself, a mixed puzzle with parts that belong to two different pictures. there's the Clarke here in the Drabwurld that wouldn't have ever done that to Bellamy, but there's the Clarke she dreams of back home that sent him away because loving people was too much of a weakness for her. the pieces don't fit together, and it's a struggle to even try. )
I'm- I'm sorry. I'm- ( the tears feel hot on her cheeks when they start to fall and she has to swallow back a sob to keep from making any noise. it's bad enough she's crying, she can't let this take over, too. ) I sent you away. I t-told you I couldn't lose you and I- And I sent you away. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Finn's- Finn is dead and you're gone and it's my fault, I'm sorry-
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[When she speaks, starts crying, his arm tightens around her and he presses the side of his head to hers. She doesn't have to return it, but it doesn't mean he'll stop hugging her. His voice is gruff with the emotional volcano they're sitting in, not an angry hard just - edging on overwhelmed not by her but everything around them.] It's not your fault. I made that choice just as much as you did. Going inside the mountain was my idea.
[He remembers being struck with a strange sense of upset by her agreement, her decree of being weak coming off her initial I can't lose you too. He understood it, like he understands all of her choices, but the surprise of it was the unintended admission of how much she did care and how terrible it was to watch her try and cast it off.]
[He won't let her do that here. The Drabwurld is not home, no matter how many parallels and similar decisions they've been pushed to make. He has no regrets about entering the mountain, no matter what he's had to do so far, because it means they're one step closer to saving their people. Killing for them is just the easier part of what he'd go through for it.]
Clarke. I don't blame you, okay? Not for anything.
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breaths coming in stuttered gasps, she presses her forehead into his shoulder, choking back on a noise that tries to escape. she killed Finn. she killed him and it's the type of blood that she'll never be able to get off, not even here in the Drabwurld. and when it got to be too much, when the guilt was ready to swallow her whole, she sent Bellamy away instead of falling back on his support.
he says he doesn't blame her, but- )
I blame myself.
( for not finding Finn sooner, for not keeping him safe, for not finding a different way that spared his life, for agreeing with Lexa about weaknesses, for sending Bellamy away. she blames herself, because there is no one else to blame. )
I didn't know what else to do, I didn't know- ( her fingers tighten their grip in his shirt and she lifts her head to look at him properly, desperation leveled in her gaze. ) What do you remember? What happened at Mount Weather? Bellamy I need to know what happened to you.
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Clarke, he - [He what? Was going to die anyway? She spared him that torture? What good are these reassurances right now?]
[Especially because she asks him about the Mountain.] I don't. I never will. I swear on my life, Clarke, I don't blame you for any of this. [It's a promise he has to make, before he goes on.]
[He's going to tell her, he is. Keeping Mount Weather to himself was never on the table, but he hesitates right now.] I got in. I was fine, last I saw. Maya helped me. If you don't remember. [Because he'd managed to find her, on the radio, and he remembers the sound of her voice helping him to press on. The big events have been covered, but who knows how far apart they are again by the details?]
[He's still holding her head, and he meets her gaze. She's so close, it's so impossible to lie, to brush it off, because there is nothing in him that wants to keep these secrets.] I didn't get the same treatment you did. They decontaminate the Grounders a little more aggressively. [His neck feels heavy, like it should be bruised, and he swallows.] Chains and powerwashing. Cleanest I felt in months. [He spits it out intended as a joke, but it's more hostile than that. There was also a lot more to it than the simplistic description he offers, and he wouldn't be surprised if she could tell.] You were at the Grounder cages. That's where I ended up.
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( some of it is fuzzy, feels worlds away (it is), and she's still muddling through the things that were a dream and the memories of the Drabwurld. but she remembers that; she remembers feeling such despair that she was ready to give up. she remembers finding out that they were bleeding the kids, remembers not hearing from Bellamy, remembers Raven telling her that she killed Finn and wasn't allowed to give up.
(and she did, she did, she did. she killed him and he thanked her, and all she can remember is not being able to scrub hard enough to get his blood off her hands and how his last words were thanks, princess and the way Raven screamed loud enough for the world to hear her.)
but she remembers Bellamy's voice over the radio, and the surge of hope in her chest. those things she remembers, too.
his explanation is processing is far and away different from her own. she woke up in a stark white room and just had to wait to be cleared for contamination; only delayed by her own (rightful) suspicion of the Mountain and its residents. she regrets what she did to Mia, now, but back then it felt necessary in order to find their people. but Bellamy-
her face is blank as she stares at him. it isn't a disconnect so much as she's trying very hard to keep herself together for this, to not keep crying, to listen. )
You're being vague so I don't feel worse, aren't you?
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[He leans forward, pressing his face into her shoulder, taking a second.] Not on purpose.
[It's part of it, of course. He doesn't want to put this on her with everything else she's dealing with, but the other part is just that he's still processing it. It was such a rush, from the moment Lincoln failed him to the moment he woke up here beside her. It still doesn't feel like it happened.]
Everyone's shackled, hands, feet neck. They poke and prod them. Test them, probably. [It's easier to phrase it as though it's something that happens only to Grounders, distancing himself from it. They did so much, and he honestly can't tell what some of it was.] There're injections. Powders, pills. Maybe chemicals.
[He doesn't wait before jumping to the next part, not wanting to dwell on it.] I woke up in a cage. They tried to take the Grounder next to me to bleed her. [He can see that split second decision to kick the bars, to draw the attention on him. It was as much a way for him to get out of the cage as it was to stop them from taking her.] I got them to take me instead.
[His hands wrinkle into her shirt. Clarke saw the riggings. He doesn't need to explain it. He's not even sure he could right now, not with his chest tightening.] When I came to again, Maya was there. She did something. Helped me get down.
[Short, quick sentences. It gets the simple parts out.] Helped me get out.
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( her voice is empty the way a dead thing might be. there's no sympathy laced in her words, no emotion etched into the syllables, no catch in her breath. it isn't that she's closing off, that she's shutting down, it's that there is so much that she doesn't know what to do with it all.
the guilt is a heavy pressure, a growing burden, and she's sure that her knees will buckle beneath her before she can manage to shoulder it and keep going. it's Finn killing a village, it's her killing Finn, it's everyone blaming her for her choices in that, it's having sent Bellamy to Mount Weather, and now it's this. the experimentation, the torture, that they hung him for his blood. she feels so responsible, feels so guilty, and it compresses her chest until she can't breathe, as though she can't get enough air despite how many breaths she might take.
and the house feels too small, and Bellamy too close, and the noises of people outside too loud, and there is so much guilt-
Bellamy's head is on her shoulder and Clarke's reaching up before she thinks better of it, cards her fingers through his hair as her free hand lifts, shaking, to whisk the tears from her face. she doesn't know when they started falling, can't even remember now, but of course she is. of course she's crying, because does she know how to do anything else when the guilt presses down on her? will she ever know how to do anything else in response to it?
I was being weak. I was being weak. I was being weak. I was being weak.
she can't swallow back the raw sob that claws its way up her throat, can't remember how to breathe around it, and god, she wonders if this is what drowning feels like.
she's being weak and she doesn't know how to stop. )
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[It's impossible, though. Clarke has proven herself capable of making the kinds of decisions he thought she couldn't, but it's dealing with them that keeps ruining them both. They can't take it from each other all the time. They have to - handle it. Somehow.] It wasn't your fault. What happened to me wasn't your fault, Clarke.
[If his voice is scratchy, it's probably because he's starting crying too. He doesn't deserve her hand in his hair, but he can't bring himself to break from it. It's so much gentler than metal and chains.]
Stay. Please. [Bellamy doesn't know what he can offer her in return, but he's so scared she's going to shut down, even with the way her sob racks her body. His arms hold her tighter, not hard enough to hurt but enough to - to ground her, maybe. Like she's doing for him now. It's probably selfish. He'd probably let her go too, if she needed that. There are a thousand things he would do for Clarke, but he can't figure out what she needs now.]
It's not weak. You weren't being weak, keeping me from the Mountain. We had to get in there. We're going to save them.
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she doesn't want to cry anymore, she doesn't want to do this. it was easier to pretend like she didn't feel anything, it was easier to act like feeling anything was a weakness. but in the Drabwurld she doesn't have almost fifty kids to rescue, she doesn't have a best friend trapped in a mountain, she doesn't have an entire army and its leader waiting on her choices. here she has Bellamy, and he can only keep her so safe before it's her own conscience that pushes her down and crushes her beneath the weight. )
I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do, it hurts so much and I feel so bad, and I don't- What am I supposed to do, how am I supposed to-
( her voice is rough like gravel, digging into her throat and making it impossible to speak without cracking over words. )
I'm so sorry-
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You're human, Clarke. We feel too much by nature. [Which is such a fucking corny and stupid thing to say right now, but he's not really thinking so much as doing, working through all he's just seen while trying to remind Clarke that she's still worth caring about. If all he can do is just keep - talking at her, holding her, letting her cry, it has to be better than nothing.]
Stop apologizing. You're already forgiven. [He cards a hand through her hair, like she'd been doing for him.] I don't know either. But we're not giving up, okay? We're not.
[Or what's it all worth? What's the point? Bellamy has to believe in the end or he can't deal with what's happening to them now. He wonders when he got less cynical about that sort of thing. There is so much blood on his hands, and he never really forgets. It's something he knows they share.]
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the forgiveness he grants her so easily feel undeserved, but she's doing her best to find comfort in it, so she doesn't deny what he so freely offers her. she reaches up, wraps a hand around the wrist of his hand that's in her hair. another grounding force for her to hold onto.
she's quiet after that, for the moment, focusing on her breathing and alleviating the weight of guilt and grief in her chest. it's deep seated, will remain for a while, but Bellamy's eagerness to forgive alleviates it, marginally.
only when she's calm again does she clear her throat, attempts to force her voice to work correctly. )
I didn't only dream about home. I dreamed of the Drabwurld, too.
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[When she finally speaks up again, he nods without breaking away.] I did too. Some kinda vision. [A beat.] It wasn't pretty.
[Which sounds about right, considering everything else.]
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( she shifts then, only barely pulling from him so that she can grab her sketchbook. she settles down near him, touching him where she's able without crowding into his space again the way she had been before. the space is only granted so that she can open the pages of her sketchbook with the scenes from her vision; the crumbling tower, the maze of smoke, and the monsters that wreaked havoc. )
This was what I had in mine.
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[Bellamy looks over her sketches, and recognition fills his face. He brushes his hand over the top of the page and nods.] Yeah. This is what I saw too. All of it.
It's the Drabwurld, but none if it's... familiar to me.
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( either way, it's not something that bodes well. )
Even if those monsters are from the past, they could easily be recreated again. And if that happens- Bellamy, we're going to lose this war.
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[A beat.] But not right now. [His tone suggests this is not up for debate, so does the way he reaches for her hand tightly.]
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