Safe In My Arms

[Echo]

Echo walked through the woods, with her hands by her side and her eyes alert. She wore the same coat she had for years, only this time the coat held no leather straps to bind it to her body. It hung loose for the most part, thus allowing her to protect the child she carried under it from the weather and from any attacks that might come--which was why her hands were free.

As she approached the cage that the Sky People loved so much, one of the men saw her. She didn't allow herself to pause, for that would show her fear--but instead the man (whom she had often seen with Bellamy) moved to the gate and opened it for it. There was just enough light left in the day that she could see everyone in the yard, gathered for whatever it was that they did in small groups after working. The chill from the season changing was setting in now that the sun was leaving the day.

The one remaindered her of his name--Miller, left to get get Bellamy. The man who waited with her silently, but with a kind face, looked as if he could be his father. Echo said nothing to him, but made sure she didn't show her nervousness. Any signs of such emotions could lead to them having the same, and she was not going to do anything to harm her daughter.

Finally, Bellamy appeared, walking toward her through the yard. She moved ahead to meet him part of the way in. "I seek a word with you," She told him, serious but not panicked. Her tone strong. "Alone." For she didn't know what to expect with him.

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Echo

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Things were relatively calm for the time being. The war that had place against the Trikru had forced the Arkers to side with the Ice Nation to overthrow their commander. It was successful. And following that, an alliance was struck between the three groups. They were not exceptionally close to the Trikru, but they were allies. And one of their own among the Arkers served as an ambassador to ensure the peace was kept. In the meanwhile, Bellamy had been given high position within the council, and he was also the leader of the delinquents -- or whoever remained of them. They had lost many in the past, and even a few in battle. But they were surviving. They had even built cabins that had provided them the necessary shelter during winter. And now, the season was approaching yet again so prepartions were already being made.

Bellamy was in the alpha station, speaking with Marcus and Abby about devising a plan to gather as many provisions as they could. They were organizing a hunting party and properly mapping out where they had to go since the Trikru would also be stocking up for the winter and they didn't want to overstep into their territory. It was during this discussion that Miller entered. He wouldn't have entered unless it was important. He told Bellamy that Echo was here to see him, and Bellamy of course recalled the name. How could he ever forget. When he hadn't seen her fighting among her people . . . part of him knew that he could have just missed her, but the other part of him wondered if something had happened to her. He had tried to inquire about her, but was given no answer. And he couldn't exactly pry about her well being. But it seemed she was indeed fine, for when Bellamy stepped out of the ship and saw her standing there . . . she looked well. Relief washed over him as he now had physical proof that she was alright.

"Echo," he greeted and acknowledged. It was good to see her again. Good to see that she was alright. Well, physically at least. There was something wrong . . . or serious that had brought her here. He wasn't quite sure what. It was easy to assume that she had come on behalf of her people as she was a scout, but at the same time . . . that wasn't what Bellamy's gut was telling him. This was only reinforced with the way she asked to speak to him in private. If it was politics from their allies that had brought her here, then surely she would have wanted to speak to Kane and Abby as well. Instead, he gave a short nod and began to lead her to his cabin. Opening the door for her, he allowed her to step in first before he followed and shut the door behind him. "What's going on?" He asked, cutting right to the chase. Neither of them were ones who unecessarily stalled. They both went straight to business -- whatever that business may entail.

[Echo]

The sight of him when he had first entered out had not overly effected her--for she had not allowed her mind to think of what had happened between them before. She had sealed her mind into the lock of what she had to do before winter so tightly that she would let nothing waver her choice. It was not until they entered his room that she wavered--a room deep within their metal home. Not even a window. She hated it on sight. Turning to look up at him, she paused.

It was his eyes. Even in the mountain they had held kindness, and it had given her pause then too. Yet now when she looked at him she saw more then just Bellamy the warrior. It was his eyes--it was her daughter's eyes. The ones that her daughter had gotten from her father. She had been going to tell him of the child, and gather supplies and be gone by morning. She still would hold too her plan, but it was no longer easy to just remain unaffected by her choice to not come back after their nights together.

She had missed him. She missed the fighting, too. But him. They'd not spent long together but she had come to see him as a friend. A respected man. . . A lover. Thankfully he had been a well known name, and it had been easy to hear of his triumphs, and that he was alive.

She'd come here to made a demand of him, but took her a moment of just staring at him before she spoke--her voice still calm and strong but not as cold as it had been in the yard. "I have to leave my people. I am headed south, to where the winters are not so harsh. I have weapons, and I can hunt but your people . . . you do things to your meats to make them last. I need to know what that is, and if you have any to trade."

He would ask her why. She knew he would. Yet even knowing she could not offer up the reason. For all it took was one look into his face for everything to come back to her. Bellamy fought and would die for his people. His siter. And even for her own people. . . . . he would do the same for his child.

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Echo

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Something was different. Something was . . . off, dare he say. He didn't know Echo well but the two of them had shared time together. Time in the cages, time in the harvest facility -- regardless of how limited they had both saved each other -- and time outisde of that where they took their rapport to a whole new level through their expressioned intimacy. But now . . . there was something different in her gaze. In the way she silently looked at him. He couldn't read the expression behind her eyes, he just knew it was different. Unfamiliar.

While it shouldn't come as a surprise, for he was aware that he there was much to her he didn't know . . . he couldn't deny what his gut continued to feel. But nor could he distinguish whether it was good or bad. Only that it was serious. She then began to speak, and her words didn't address any of his unspoken questions. In fact, it only brought forth more to his mind. He raised an eye brow when she finished speaking. "You came all this way to ask about our meat?" He questioned, his inquiry a bit sarcastic and almost mocking . . . for he didn't believe her. Surely, that was not the reason she had come here, and that disbelief was evident in his tone of voice and the way he was looking at her now.

Though there was one more concerning statement she had said -- dismissing the meat bit of course. "Why do you have to leave your people?" He asked. Was there another war brewing? Were tensions rising again? He hadn't heard anthing from their ambassador nor from the others. So Bellamy had to wonder, what exactly prompted Echo to leave her people when he knew full well how emphatically loyal she was to them. The concern made him take a few steps toward her, protective instinct taking over, not wanting any harm to come to her. However brief their interactions . . . he cared about her. And he would not see her harmed.

[Echo]

He had that tone that Sky People sometimes used when their words didn't match their meaning. Still, his words made her blink, as if she had only just realized what she said. Her hear moved no more then a millimeter as she tired to clear her head. Echo had not thought this past supplies. Only now was she starting to let the emotion make her see her errors--and she hated making mistakes. She had only thought about making the trip past, and her people would not lead supplies to her because of her daughter. Now she realized she had only made this harder on herself. She should have done this on her own. "I shouldn't have come here." She told him, looking away from his face for the first time to look at the door.

Had she been thinking clearly she would have never have admitted that to him. Never showed that hesitance or weakness. Would have hated showing it. Yet she was here, and she would not adjust her course--could not. He stepped closer, and she leaded slightly back, too used to protecting her child to even need to think on her actions. Her eyes also moved back to him, almost in surprise that she had even done it. Taking a slow step back she begin to explain, her voice stronger, less of the numb calm and more of the rationalizing warrior she was before.

"Sometimes there are children born within the clans that are of . . . . we call them wastelanders, for they are seen as tainted blood. Or because they bare children of with stains on the bloodlines." Echo didn't look from his face as she explained. "I never had given it much thought to disagreeing with the banishment of these people until now." She had never thought to defend them, or help them. It was how things were done. It was not until it was her daughter that she begin to disagree.

"I have a daughter, Bellamy, and she has such blood. The code of my people demands I cast her out, but I could not. So I am leaving with her. We are going south, to survive the winter, to be in a place were she can be safe." There, that was stronger, and more direct. With each word she felt her mind settling. "I came to ask for your help." With that she reached up to unbuckle her coat, and tossed it to the table hear her. There under it, she wore a faded shirt, and a large bit of cloth held a baby to her. Reaching in she pulled the infant out, and her eyes opened to look up at Echo. Black hair fell over the forehead in large ringlets, and large brown eyes were framed with tanish skin. The child hands came up to grasp a hand full of her mother's shirt, but Echo's eyes were now on Bellamy. "Will you help me?"

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Echo

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

She seemed to suddenly change her mind about coming, and Bellamy just continued to stand there. If she wanted to leave, he wouldn't stop her. Yet she only looked away for a moment before continuing on. She was talking about her culture, explaining that there were children who were considered to be a stain on the bloodline. How? He wasn't entirely sure. But he could make a few educated guesses. She was going somewhere with this, and Bellamy remained silent until she finished.

Her started to tie together a little more when she said that she had a daughter. A what now? She had a daughter? When? How? -- Well he knew how. He was just surprised. She was leaving with her daughter cause apparently, she was a stain on the bloodline -- according to her people. Where was the father? Why wouldn't he go with them? Bellamy already knew the answer to his own unspoken series of questions, but he had also slipped into some sort of denial . . . unable to acknowledge it. She then started unbuttoning her coat, revealing the baby she had been concealing this entire time. Looking directly at her, it was unmistakable. She had resemblance to Octavia when she was around the same age -- though the baby had more of Bellamy's own hair. And eyes. And . . . oh shit.

He could state the obvious, or question the obvious. But right now, all he could do was stare at her, his expression stoic though internally, he felt a rush of emotions and thoughts flood his heart and mind. He . . . they . . . this . . . she. He had a daughter. This child, was his. He couldn't even begin to process this revelation. But he had to say something. Anything. And yet, all he could do was stare. Echo wasn't asking for him to be her father . . . she was just asking for his help to leave. He was all too aware of that. Had she not been considered a 'stain', then would Echo have even told him? "What's her name?" He asked, his tone flat, almost emotionless. It was not the first question that he wanted to or should even be asking. But it just came out. As if that was all he could bring himself to say in this moment.

[Echo]

He knew. She could see it on his face. How could he not? The daughter looked just like him. Same hair. Same eyes. Even her skin was less like Echo's and more like Bellamy's. "Blake." She told him, speaking her daughter's name--one that was also from her father. She had wanted her to be a warrior, to be strong and have honor. She would be of the Ice Nation, and carry the name of the man who had saved them--and created her. Yet none of that was to come to pass because of the blood.

Was it tainted? She didn't think so, but she had believed others were as it was what she had been told from birth. Yet when she looked down at her daughter now, she couldn't think it. Couldn't make herself do as she knew she was supposed to do it. Her hand lifted to the soft hair that was her daughter's head and she lifted it back to show Bellamy her ear. The shape of the ear was there, but there was no opening, only skin. "She cannot hear from this side." She had managed to keep a hood over her head for a while, trying to decide what she should do, yet she knew she could no longer hide it. Others found out, and she left before there was an outrage. She ran. In the middle of the night, taking what she could. She knew they would have come to make demands, and punish her for trying to hide this. She had to leave to make sure her daughter lived. "You are supposed to talk too much." She reminded him, knowing that had been an annoyance of hers at first but then she had liked how she could tell what he was thinking based on it.

The silence was too quite.

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Echo

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Blake. Really? Had he not been in a state of shock right now, he would have pointed out how . . . that name just didn't work. But did Grounders even have surnames? Instead of focusing on the absurdity of Blake Blake, the child's name revealed that Echo had considered him. That she had incorporated his own name to the child. His eyes went to her ear. So that was what ostracized her from the others. That was a stain on the blood.

He felt . . . anger. Anger toward anyone who would condemn an innocent child. And this was rather familiar, for he had experienced it with Octavia. She was a criminal for merely existing. This child -- his child -- was a stain because of something she had no control of. But Bellamy remained stoic, his eyes fixated on the child's. He was a father. This life, was created from his and Echo's actions. He couldn't look away from her. He only slowly did so when Echo spoke of how he was supposed to talk more. "What the hell am I supposed to say?" He questioned. There was no anger in his voice . . . he had no idea what emotion was in his tone. Perhaps none at all. It was defensive, but it wasn't pleased either.

"You revealed that I have a daughter, asked to see our meat, and what, plan to just leave to go who knows where?" How was she going to take care of a child? Where were they going to go? It wasn't that he doubted Echo's capabilities or strength, but Bellamy knew the difficulties of a child. They needed a stable environment. And this poor innocent girl . . . was being punished for . . . well, existing. Just like Octavia. "What is it you want me to say right now? Ask you to stay? Watch you leave?" He just . . . didn't know anymore. He was a father, and he didn't know how to handle that.

[Echo]

His words told her much--and still left her wanting to know more. "You do not have a daughter, Bellamy, I do. Do not let yourself get attached, for there is no use. I have not come to ask for a home--but for aid in leaving quicker. I plan to leave as the sun arrives." So she could cover as much ground as she could. Her people would not think of her coming to this camp, even if they knew who the father was. She had no loyalty here, no connections. They would not look for her here. If they were even looking. She wasn't sure if they were enraged of her lies, or if they were just glade to be rid of her.

She wasn't even sure why she came. Could not recall the thoughts that had prompted her. Echo moved to set Blake down on the table, and the little girl sat up on her own, her chubby hands moving to grasp at the near by coat and play with it while looking around. Echo felt tired, and knew she came here to feel safe before she ran more. "Do you plan to help us?" She needed to know, because he was the only one she could ask this of--and she knew this was the most unfair thing to ask of him.

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Echo

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy felt an array of emotions, impossible to pin down a singlular one. The words she said to him hurt more than anything else. For she told him he did not have a daughter. She told him not to get attached. He had helped create the life, yet she was depriving him of what being a father truly was. Bellamy's priority had always been his family. Ever since Octavia was born; hell even before that when she was inside their mother's womb.

And yet now, Echo was telling him that he ddi not have a family with her. That this child was not his own. He felt hurt by it, knowing he could not protest. What authority did he have to do so? Apparently none. For she was not going to be here long. She would come and leave, but clearly desperate enough to dangle this in front of him only to not give it. "Do you really expect me to say no?" She was relying on that, wasn't she? His protective instinct. Now using it against him. "Bring her. I'll show you to where you can stay." With that he went toward the door, facing away from her, trying to get a hold of his emotions. She told him there was no point. She hadn't come to give him the gift of a child; she had come to use his willingness to protect his family . . . while at the same time, depriving him of one.