A Trail of Souls behind us

[Clarke Griffin]

Lincoln

Turning away from Camp Jaha, from her family, her friends, everything she knew was both the hardest thing and easy in a way. There was a raging battle inside her. Guilt held her heart in her grip, broke her down, her soul felt raw, torn open. Even the betrayal still hurt deeply. It felt like she had come undone under the pressure, a shell of herself, her former shine no longer there. She killed the entire population of the mountain. She went to those extremes and she had to live with it. While she planned on carrying this burden, to remove the visible reminder of her deeds from people like Jasper, this was as much for herself, as it was in part an attempt for Bellamy and Monty. She hoped since Jasper blamed her most and others would, too, that her absence would do them good, allow them to heal. And she hoped she could find...something out there that allowed her to make sense of the deep guilt and perhaps move on.

As she walked away there was a single other figure out there. Lincoln stood by the edges of the forest. He had been through a lot and it was in part their fault. Clarke walked up to him, as upright and straight as she could while her heart broke anew, feeling like she might be walking away from them for good. At the very least if she ever returned, the girl returning would not be the same girl she was now. It could not be the same girl she was now.

"Couldn't go in either?" She asked him. She reached out and placed her hand on Lincolns arm, hoping he would understand the gesture. "I understand." Or maybe she did not quite, but for as far as she could, she understood. He had been a reaper, hooked on drugs he never asked for, forced to do things he never asked for, killing when it wasn't even his choice. A lot of things weren't. Neither was almost dying. "Maybe we're going the same way?"

[Lincoln]

if i'm a danger to myself Just think what I could do to you Tag: Clarke Griffin

It a time passed his father had told him the world had always been trying to turn him into a monster, he said this right before he had forced his child to kill an injured, defenseless man. For many years Lincoln had thought those words meant the world wanted to make him a warrior of his people; an efficient killer, someone that could survive the odds, could ensure his clansmen survival. But now he knew the truth. He was destined to be a different kind of monster--the kind that hurt others instead of killing them, the kind that left others alive but broken.

It wasn't only a trail of souls he was leaving behind him but one of broken hearts also. He had left Luna when guilt over leaving his clan ate him up inside. Then he betrayed Anya, and Indra, and Nyko, and all his village so that he could protect the woman he loved--one of the enemy. And then he had betrayed Bellamy for the red drug, had hurt Octavia in was he swore he never would. There was no place for him with them. No redemption for him. He couldn't stay so he had said goodbye instead; he had watched as Octavia's heart shattered at his feet while doing nothing to prevent it.

He was a monster, through and through.

His darkened hues watched as Clarke approached, saw pain that mirrored his own clear on her face. Kindred spirits they were, linked through emotions that suffocated them from the inside out. "No, I couldn't." It had been too painful standing there at the edge of the forest let along going inside. He couldn't do that, not again. "I don't know where I'm going." There was no place for him, not anywhere.

OWL

[Clarke Griffin]

There was a sense of lost for a place in this man before here. She could relate to that. In part she was responsible for it. Her involvement in this all, had brought him to this place. He had saved her life once and he had gotten caught up in their struggle to find a place in this world. They didn't seem to have a place. She didn't have one where she could rest and feel like the world did not matter at the moment, where she just belonged. And perhaps it was the same way for him. Though she wished it for him. He had sacrificed a lot for them. 

"I understand." She said softly. She understood feeling uprooted. His allegiance to them had uprooted him and it was not fair, not in the slightest. The blonde reached out to place a hand on his arm. But maybe it could heal, too. It might be able to heal them both. Two people unexpectedly linked by a feeling of not belonging or being whole. "If you allow me, I would like to not know where I am going with you? For now. We... might not belong here, but that doesn't have to mean we have to be alone. I think...we might understand each other and be able to help each other."

Lincoln

[Lincoln]

if i'm a danger to myself Just think what I could do to you Tag: Clarke Griffin

His muscles tensed beneath her touch. It was all too familiar to him, gentle, kind, understanding--how Octavia had once touched him. Their parting had ended with an outline of her hand on his cheek, and tears streaming down her face. He didn't think he would ever be able to forget the sound of her tears. Lincoln shifted slowly, moving out from beneath her touch, and gently took her hand into his. There had never been romantic feelings between he and Clarke; he had Octavia, and she had had Finn, and after his passing found love with Lexa. But he liked her, and her willingness to make the hard decisions when others would have buried their heads in the sand.

Everything had changed for them. It was all so wrong and he didn't like it. Change was something Lincoln had always wanted to change the world; he wanted his clansmen to be kinder to one another, wanted the thirteen clans to at least try to live in harmony instead of killing each other to one up the other. But this wasn't what he wanted. He hadn't wanted to bring about so much distrust, so much pain, so much hatred. And he was so certain that Clarke felt the same, or at least similar. The Sky People had just wanted to live their lives without worrying about when the grounders would attack, and now look where she was. A stranger among her own people. Like him.

"I would like that." He had yet to release her hand, had enjoyed the feel of how it fit so perfectly into his, had liked her words more than he was willing to admit aloud. They didn't belong, not here, not there, not anywhere. But at least they weren't alone. For the moment they had each other. Lincoln turned away from Camp Jaha, away from TonDC, away from Octavia, away from his clan, away from everything he had ever known about himself and about life. "We should go now." He still held her hand as he began to walk away.

OWL

[Clarke Griffin]

Lincolns movement had an ease to it that she honestly could not understand. she was buzzing with the guilt, the haunting memory of screams, probably forever imprinted in her mind. If she could, she would raise the dead, make sure those innocent lives were never taken. As Lincoln took her hand in his, she stared at them. She remembered how she tried to save his life once, to save many others, but not only that. She liked him. He was the one who gave them one thing no other grounder had: Understanding. He was the one person to try and understand their position. He was the one to explain things to them because their cultures were fundamentally different. Or were they? How were they different? Floating or death by cuts. It all was one thing, death, letting one life pay for a crime, except... theirs was something else. Once he told them, that if death had no cost, life had no worth. And he wasn't wrong. The guilt, the pain, this was the price she paid for the death she dealt out. Leaving her people. And yet there was still someone willing to hold her hand, to go with her, to maybe one day call her a friend.

And so the blonde walked away with Lincoln. They were two people from different cultures, with different stories and different ways to go. But for now they chose to go in the same direction, wherever that would take them. She walked in silence for a long time, one hand holding on to him, feeling like his presence grounded her as much as the feeling of different surfaces beneath her boots. They only had forward. And as much as the past hurt her, maybe she owed it to the people in Mount Weather, to walk this way, learn from it and become wiser. Maybe she could finally not feel like she had the weight of the world on her shoulder. 

Clarke couldn't even tell how long they walked in silence. She couldn't even remember what time of day it had been when they left, but slowly the sun sank on the horizon, casting the forest around them in a soft orange light. Once when she was younger she dreamed of seeing a sunset like this, granted over the ocean, but she realized that this was the first time she walked around with her eyes open enough to stop and take in the beauty of it. It stopped her in her tracks. When she was dreaming of this, she drew it often. And he drew, too, she knew as much. For the first time since knowing him, the realization hit her that they had this in common.

"It's beautiful." she said as she looked ahead. Any other day she would draw this. "Maybe we should rest here." Maybe they should find a place to just sleep for the night, make something of a plan, talk of something of a plan. No concrete one, but something they would...want. "Lincoln, I think... we should talk about ... I don't know how to say it, I see myself as a monster, but once I had so much hope. I had hopes to see a sunset like this and... I think we should talk about - where we might go to, to find a way....or be aimless on our terms."


Lincoln

[Lincoln]

if i'm a danger to myself Just think what I could do to you Tag: Clarke Griffin

Together they walked, hand in hand. For how long he did not know. They walked for minutes and hours, until he had lost track of time, until he no longer cared to keep track of it. It was strange to him, not at all awkward, but strange. Lincoln had never expected to find himself at Clarke's side--not like this.

He had wanted their people to find peace, to find a way to coexist. He hadn't wanted for he and Clarke to find themselves lost but not alone. Both he and her had bent over backwards for their people, bent until they broke. It hurt his head to think about it so instead he focused on the blonde and her seeming amazement for the setting sun.

"Yes, it is." He didn't know what else to say to her, didn't know what was appropriate for their situation. So when she suggested that they find a place to rest, he nodded his head slowly. His gaze shifted between the threes, ever vigilant. He knew this area well; there was a cave not to fat where they could spend the night.

But when he took a step forward she spoke again and those words stopped him in his tracks. He didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to think about it. But if they were going to go nowhere together then they would need to talk.

Lincoln sighed then, the sound heavy, filled with the weight that was resting on his shoulders. "Alright." If he and Clarke were going to stay together, even if only for a little while, there was no need to make things more difficult then they already were. "We should find shelter first. It'll be dark soon."

OWL

[Clarke Griffin]

He was right, of course, they should find shelter first before discussing what they would do, want to do even. Even being lost, in times like these, where she was sure sooner or later Arkadia and Lexa would be looking for them, especially after what she had done. There was blood on her hands, blood she could not wipe off and an accusation against Lexa which might just paint the Commander as weak - as she was. Lexa had not brought down Mount Weather, Clarke did, Clarke and Bellamy together, while Lexa ran, showing how faithful she was to the cause Clarke had given them.

This was not a topic she sought to discuss as she walked with him. His steps were steady, he clearly knew where they were going until a cave opened in front of them. It was large enough to allow them to sleep in it for a while. Maybe... one day they might even have something permanent, somewhere safe. She didn't want to talk about the past, only a rough estimate on where they had to go, because she did not have to tell him what she had done, he knew that intimately, he was there. He had witnessed it from the beginning, and maybe even deeper than anyone else. 

Clarke touched the wall of the cave and sighed. She had started this. In a horrible chain reaction of events, this all fell back to her somehow. One, by one, her decisions brought her there. Maybe she was a monster, a monster best locked away, one of the witchers her mother had spoken to her about, one of those who could only be stopped by themselves. "I think...I want to go far away from here." Somewhere where she could hurt none of her friends.

[Lincoln]

if i'm a danger to myself Just think what I could do to you Tag: Clarke Griffin

He released her hand when they reached the cave and he moved away from her. Lincoln explored slowly, thoroughly, to ensure no animal or person had claimed the cave as their home in the time since he had been here last. He saw prints in the dirt, nothing fresh, to indicate predators lurking nearby.

Lincoln signed heavily as he placed his pack down; he had only bought with him the necessary things, rations, some water, a change of clothes, whatever weapons he could carry.

"We will, Clarke." He answered her, his voice soft, an echo of his former self. He didn't speak with a swagger like he used to, a calm confidence. No. He spoke with a dark resolution because he understood that whatever happened now, it didn't matter. Whether he lived or died, he didn't care anymore.

He didn't have a place here, not anywhere. And the truth was... he didn't care anymore. Nothing was how it should be. "We can go somewhere far from here, over the hills, far away, across the ocean. Somewhere better."

OWL

[Clarke Griffin]

Across the ocean. That sounded nice. This was perhaps the furthest away she could imagine. Across the ocean in the east was europe. She had seen a lot about europe. She had seen pictures, back on the ark where these pictures now seemed like ghosts, like she had seen ghosts and clung to them, hoping for a world in peave when there was no such thing to be found. Oh how she wished that romanticized view was right. Clarke put her bag down. It didn't contain much at all, not even a change of clothes. She had thougth short term, very, very short term. Then again when the sun rose that mornig, she had not anticipated how much blood would be on her hands, how many lives lost due to her being, well her. 

Clarke sat against a wall and watched him. She envied his knowledge of this world in a way. Her world used to be sterile walls, stict rules, being the perfect princess, as Bellamy once dubbed her. She fell into this role, forced herself into it basically. And yet an echo of who she was remained. "Europe is across the ocean." She said softly as she moved closer and leaned her head onto Lincolns shoulder. "I have seen pictures of Europe, of mountains and planes, wild horses in...France. And the cities. I always wanted to see the cities." But she guessed those were mostly gone now. She wondered if anyone survived back there. Clarke just let her head linger on his shoulder. He was warm, he was solid, he was real, he was there. And that was ... something strangely comforting.

[Lincoln]

if i'm a danger to myself Just think what I could do to you Tag: Clarke Griffin

The weight of her head on his shoulder was a comfort he didn't deserve but one that he gladly welcomed. Lincoln had felt alone for so long that a little human contact, even something as innocent as someone leaning into his side, was nice. And yet he was still stiff and rigid, not moving so as to not make her uncomfortable or disturb her rest. He would stay awake and keep watch while she slept. Heaven knows she needed some sleep after everything she had been through... what she was still going through.

Truth be told they both needed some sleep, some time to heal. They both had their own demons, this much was true but he had been contending with his for far longer then she had been with hers. Lincoln was accustomed to the weight of them on his heart and soul so he could bear them a little while longer if it meant he could help her, care for her. "France?" He repeated, brows knitting together. "Europe?" He wasn't familiar with those names but guessed it was what the land had been called before the first praimfaya.

It hadn't been called that in a long time. But he could confirm that there were still wild horses, so there was that. Maybe that was where they could do first. To see the wild horses. Lincoln thought that would make her smile and dammit she deserved to smile. He placed his hand atop her thigh, the gesture innocent and reassuring. "You should get some sleep, Clarke. I'll wake you when its time to move again, then you can tell me about this places."

OWL

[Clarke Griffin]

Clarke felt in a way safe with him. He was strong. He was compassionate and quite unlike his people in a way that she rightfully enjoyed, or so she thought. His people were set on war in a way she could not understand. Maybe not yet, maybe not ever. Because the babylonian mentality started so many conflicts between their people, conflicts they could not end in a peaceful way, because while they were ready to be diplomatic, the Grounders weren't and neither were the mountain men. Worst was, that Clarke knew a way, a permanent way, to help the mountain men leave the mountain, to live in peace, but two side in this three sided conflict were so strictly against it that now she had blood on her hands, blood she could never wipe off again.

But she was comfortable, safe leaning against Lincoln. After everything, he made her feel safe and that was rare. Clarke wrapped her arms around his arm for a moment, holding herself close, just listening to his breathing, listening to his words as she just felt good in a way. Perhaps she should rest. Perhaps she should sleep, but after Mount Weather, she just wanted to get rid of the bad feelings and replace it with the good feelings he was giving her. Clarke moved, placed her hand on his cheek and gently guided his head so she could press a soft kiss to his lips. And boy did that feel good. It felt...alive. It felt right in a way she knew should not feel right that instant, because they were both emotionally not in the right headspace. And yet she kissed him and relished in the feeling of human contact and feeling alive.

[Lincoln]

if i'm a danger to myself Just think what I could do to you Tag: Clarke Griffin

The moment her lips touched his the world had come to a standstill. Colors seeped away, sounds faded, until all that remained was them. Just him and Clarke. He was frozen, his lips minimally moving against hers, the gears in his mind slowly turning over and tuning in to what was happening. She was kissing him.

Her small hand cradling his cheek and pulling him in. And then something in him clicked and her was kissing her back; hard, desperate, emboldened by her behavior. It was like a bolt of lightening going through him, shaking him to the very core.

It was wrong. Only hours ago he had left Octavia in tears. He shouldn't have been doing this, should have hated himself for kissing this woman so passionately but he couldn't find it in himself to stop. He and Clarke were kindred spirits, bound together by the guilt eating at him, by the burden of bringing about peace between their people.

They were more alike then any other person he had previously met; they wanted to live in peace, without the need to kill, or fight, lurking around every corner.

Lincoln couldn't deny his attraction to her. He couldn't deny the feelings she invoked with that first tentative kiss. His arms moved to encircle her waist, pulling her against his chest as he deepened the kiss, chasing the taste of her, letting himself become lost in her; in her taste, and smell, and feel.

The kiss was dangerous. Her lips were soft against her, her taste sweet and intoxicating. For one moment she lifted the weight from his shoulders, for one moment he lifted the weight from hers.

OWL

[Clarke Griffin]

Clarke felt her eyes sting, sting with the threat of tears as everything in her burned, burned with feelings she didn't think she would feel again. She felt good. She felt wonderful even. She felt alive. Her heart was beating fast, present in her chest, not bothering if it almost jumped out of it. If she was honest she hadn't felt this alive in a long, long time. Perhaps since Finns death, the one she brought about. 

They were both paying a heavy price for what they could do, for the lengths they both could go to to save their people, to be what they needed, even if they did not want it. They had sacrificed parts of themselves for survival. This was living. This was being more than a cold killing machine. It was not about betrayal. It was about love, care and so much more. 

Lincoln kissed her like a man drowning. She should be thinking about Octavia, she knew. She should feel bad for betraying her. But her mind circled back to the fact that Octavia was not here. She had a choice. She chose to let Lincoln leave. She chose to separate and not put what he needed as her priority. And Clarke chose to go with him. They both chose to go away, but then they chose to go the way together. To this cave. Some would perhaps call this unhealthy and Clarke was aware that perhaps the attraction she felt to him was purely based on the guilt and the need to feel alive. Part of it was, part of it wasn't. She knew it as he kissed her back. She knew it as she pulled back to look at him.

Her mouth was slightly open, as she took deep breaths. She looked into his eyes and managed a small smile, a genuine smile. She was not alone in this world. She would not be alone in this world. He was here, when she needed someone. Perhaps this was the beginning of somethig wonderful. But words were unnecessary and so Clarke moved to kiss him again. And this time she moved closer her body pressing against his, feeling an urgency and a need to feel more of him. Tears streamed down her face as she felt her entire body feel, spark with desire, with something that felt so similar of love, but she could not call it that. Not yet at least. Perhaps it was a plant that needed watering and would become just that. Her hands reached for his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders, wanting to feel closer, to feel his warmth.

[Lincoln]

if i'm a danger to myself Just think what I could do to you Tag: Clarke Griffin

Lincoln shifted when she pushed at his jacket, not hesitating in helping her remove it. His hands moved on their own accord, pushing beneath her shirt to feel the canvass of her skin, the warmth of it enticing a soft groan from his mouth. There was a part of him begging him to stop, imploring him to act rationally and think about the woman whose heart he had broken oh so recently. Octavia was likely to be crying at the moment, cursing his name, and wising her was dead.

But all of this was drowned out by his need for her. Her spirit was calling to him, encouraging him, welcoming him to that place beneath her rib cage. He and Clarke two of them kindred, broken in was only the other could understand. Lincoln could not deny her even if he had truly wanted to. What did she mean to him? The question floated somewhere in the back of his mind, resonating, imposing. He could not call it love, could not call it beyond what it was in that moment.

Perhaps it was only loneliness, and bitterness manifesting in ways that were dangerous and ramifying. Perhaps one day it would be. One day. For now he allowed himself to be lost in the sensations of her. His fingertips pressed harder into the curves of her hips, dragging her into his lap, so that her thighs were around him. The weight of her was familiar somehow, comfortable.

"Clarke," his voice was stern, strong, and firm. His confidence in that moment unwavering. His mouth was heavy on hers, chasing the taste of her, desperate for more.

OWL