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millipop · 4 years

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stole my mind and found my dreams

Summary: Princess Clarke is known as Wanheda - an assassin Graced with the skill of killing. But it's not until she meets Bellamy Blake that she starts believing she's capable of being so much more than the King's thug. Bellamy has a Grace of his own, and in him she meets her match - physically and emotionally. But Clarke's haunted by a violent past, and Bellamy has secrets of his own. When his family is threatened, Clarke and Bellamy discover the kingdom of Polaris is not all that it seems, and they must work together to uncover the truth behind Queen Alie's City of Light - and perhaps fall in love along the way.

chapter 4/4: if only you could see, heartstrings

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There’s something about the lady in the red dress that bothers Clarke.

Something about her eyes, maybe. Or perhaps it’s the blood-red shade of her dress, or the way her eyes keep darting down to Madi. For some reason, Clarke thinks her eyes should be a different colour. Brown? Why is that thought coming to her head?

Clarke doesn’t like her, but she can’t explain, even to herself, why.

But Queen Alie is being very nice and welcoming, inviting Clarke into the room, and smiling at them. The group around the table smile too. They aren’t doing anything – not eating or drinking or working. It’s as if they’ve been waiting, gathered around for the sole purpose of Clarke and Madi’s arrival.

There’s a dark-skinned man with a gaudy crown on his head, with features that seem familiar in a way. A woman with dark hair and light eyes next to him, her face gaunt yet elegant. Across from them is a younger woman, the same dark hair but eyes brighter, piercing. And a man next to her, strong and built, with tattoos. She knows this man; he’s her friend. Lincoln. He works with Eden. That’s right. She can trust him.

She takes a hesitant step into the room. Proceed carefully, she tells herself. Madi is clutching at her, crying, and sobbing words into Clarke’s jacket.

‘She’s lying. She’s lying. Don’t listen to her, please Clarke! She’s lying.’

So Madi doesn’t like the woman either. That would have to be taken into consideration.

‘My heir, my missing heir,’ Queen Alie says. She stands up from her chair. A larger, more extravagant chair, a throne really, that doesn’t match the simple carved wooden ones the others sit in. ‘She’s sick,’ the woman says, sorrow lacing her voice. ‘It’s horrible to see her suffer, I wish to take her pain away. If she would just come to me.’

‘No, no, no,’ Madi cries. ‘She’s lying, don’t let her touch me.’

Clarke frowns. Madi’s sick. Queen Alie has clearly said so. And she could take the pain away. But was that right if Madi didn’t want her to?

‘Octavia, go and help your niece.’

The name makes Clarke’s head jerk up. Octavia. Bellamy’s sister. It doesn’t make her relax. The younger woman stands and comes towards them, hands out to Madi.

‘Come on Madi. I’m your Aunt Octavia. You can come with me.’ Octavia’s voice is husky and deep, and a mix of the Arcadian and Trigedan accents.

When Octavia reaches them, Madi screeches, holding on tighter to Clarke and kicking out at her aunt. Octavia frowns, a puzzled expression aimed at Clarke.

‘She’s hysterical.’

‘Madi, don’t you know your Aunt Octavia? You loved stories about her. Slash don’t stab, remember? She can protect you.’

But Clarke’s pleas fall on deaf ears, and Madi just turns into Clarke’s arms even more, muttering under her breath. ‘Lies, lies, lies, lies, lies.’

Clarke shrugs at Bellamy’s sister. ‘Sorry. I promised to take care of her. I think she’ll only trust me or Bellamy right now.’

Octavia purses her lips at this. ‘Where is my brother?’

‘Indeed,’ a cool voice rings out again. ‘You seem to be missing one of your party. Prince Bellamy is alive, I hope?’

There’s something under Queen Alie’s voice that makes Clarke, just for a second, think that may be a lie. But just as quick as the throught surfaces in her mind, it’s gone.

‘Yes,’ Clarke says uncertainly, because she knows that’s true. But she can’t help the feeling she’s supposed to be pretending he’s dead. But why would that be?

Queen Alie’s eyebrows rise. ‘How wonderful. Maybe we can help him. Where is he?’

‘No!’ Madi suddenly screams. ‘Don’t tell her, Clarke! Don’t tell her, don’t tell her, don’t tell her.’

‘Shh,’ Clarke tries to calm the girl down, but she’s looking at her with such wild desperation that she can’t help but nod slightly, if just to appease her.

‘Don’t tell him, please,’ Madi begs.

‘I won’t,’ Clarke promises. She tucks her own face into Madi’s hair, and it seems to ground her a little. When she’s not looking at the others, with her eyes closed and her arms full of Madi, it feels right not to tell Alie where Bellamy is. Even if they could maybe help. After all, the girl is so adamant.

When Clarke looks up again, Octavia is hanging back a bit, expression still confused. It matches the faces of the others, still stationary and vacant eyed around the table. Only Alie’s eyes are sharp, but she’s still smiling genially at Clarke.

‘I see,’ she says. ‘That’s fine. We can find out later.’ She runs her eyes over Madi again, as if calculating. The girl whimpers and slinks behind Clarke more, hiding. ‘Princess Madi isn’t herself,’ Alie finally says. ‘She’s ill, and confused, and for some reason thinks I’ll hurt her. Of course, it’s the opposite. I won’t let anything hurt my dear Madi again.’

The Queen steps out from her chair, sliding to the side of the room. She doesn’t walk any closer, though, seeming to realise Madi would make a fuss.

‘I’ve been telling the Arcadian royal family here, Lady Clarke,’ she sweeps a hand at the people at the table. ‘About what happened in Polaris. How poor Madi ran away after Princess Luna’s tragic accident. How you and Prince Bellamy found her, and you’ve been keeping her safe for me. I must thank you most ardently for that.’

The Arcadian royal family. Clarke’s eyes scan the room again. The crowned man, whose features reminded her so strongly of someone. Proud and noble. A king. A Jaha. Wells!

But there’s a vagueness to his eyes that never existed in the friend she rescued. Rescued? From whom? Something swirls in Clarke’s mind. Hadn’t it been Alie? No, it was Mount Weather. That was where she had met Bellamy.

Bellamy. The woman next to Jaha, her features were so like his. Because it was his mother. Aurora, Clarke manages to remember.

The woman in question is staring at Clarke, her chin jutting proudly just like Bellamy’s. The same cheekbones, perhaps?

A cleared throat interrupts her thoughts, and Clarke stares back at Alie again.

‘Yes,’ she says. ‘I’ve kept her safe.’

‘I’m curious, Lady Clarke,’ Queen Alie hums. ‘So curious. How did you leave Polaris? Did you cross the mountains?’

‘Yes,’ Clarke answers, before she can think about it.

The Queen’s eyebrows rise again, but she doesn’t laugh. Instead, a disturbing sort of smile graces her face, like she’s angry and humoured at the same time.

‘That seemed like the most logical answer, when we couldn’t find you,’ she nods. ‘I wasn’t sure whether I should just wait for you to surface somewhere in the other kingdoms. But then I found out that you weren’t welcome in Sanctum. Princess no more. And of course,’ she adds, eyes on the royal family. ‘I needed to find my heir again. Everyone is searching the kingdoms for you, but I decided to try Arcadia myself. You were with Prince Bellamy, after all.’ She stops, eyes glittering on Clarke’s. ‘It was the logical conclusion.’

‘You didn’t have to worry,’ Clarke replies, confused. ‘I kept her safe. I made sure we survived.’

‘And I thank you for that. Especially now you’ve brought her to my estate, here in Arcadia.’

Her estate? Wasn’t this Bellamy’s estate? Or was it hers? But that was ridiculous. She was a disgraced ex-princess of Sanctum. This was the first time she’d set foot in Arcadia. It can’t be her estate. Why does she think that?

Clarke’s head hurts. It’s like there’s a thick fog behind her eyes, impenetrable and dizzying. And it feels familiar. But she can’t quite place it.

‘You’re welcome,’ she manages, although there’s not much sincerity behind it.

‘Now,’ Alie says, taking a heeled step towards them. Madi draws back, and Clarke with her. If only to protect her. Alie just smiles. ‘Now I just want to make sure you’re okay, Madi. I am medically trained. I can make sure she’s in no more pain. But I need her here to examine her.’

No pain for Madi. That sounded good right? Madi was crying, and Queen Alie could help.

‘Yes,’ Clarke agrees, but Madi is still collapsed against her, and shaking her head with vigour. Clarke pauses. ‘I will,’ she continues, ‘But maybe later. When she’s feeling a little better.’

Alie’s smile freezes on her face. ‘I think she needs my attention now,’ she says calmly, yet there’s an edge to her voice that pulls at the fog in Clarke’s mind.

‘Madi’s my responsibility,’ Clarke says, her voice coming out firmer than she feels. ‘She’ll stay with me for now.’

The Queen’s blue eyes glitter again. Something tells Clarke, in the back of her head, that there’s danger. But what? It’s a cold rising in her, but the fog stays, curling around every thought, as much as she tries to shake it away.

But Alie smiles again, retreating a little, and the alarm Clarke’s body feels subsides a little. ‘Well it’s commendable you’re so intent on protecting her, Wanheda. I will examine her later.’

‘What about my brother?’ Octavia speaks again. She’s standing near Lincoln, frowning at Clarke. ‘What happened to him?’

‘Yes,’ agrees Aurora, speaking for the first time. Bellamy’s mother stands up, looking intensely at Clarke. ‘You haven’t said whether he’s okay. Is he injured? Hurt?’

‘We are so anxious to hear,’ Alie chimes in. ‘Is he nearby? In reach of our help?’

Clarke blinks at them, once again confused. She wants to talk to Bellamy’s family. Assure them that he’s safe, or so she hopes. But weren’t there things she had to keep secret too? The fog made it hard to separate. What was important, what did she have to hide?

‘I don’t want to talk about Bellamy,’ she says defiantly, shaking her head. ‘He’s fine.’ If she can’t be sure, better to say nothing at all.

Bellamy’s mother looks disappointed, Octavia angry, but Alie purses her lips. ‘A shame.’ She begins to walk very slowly behind the throne, a deliberate pace. ‘He is such an interesting man. An accomplished fighter, so I hear, and incredibly loyal. And brave.’

The Queen seems to have realised that walking any closer will make Madi or Clarke nervous now, so she just wanders around her chair, manicured hand trailing over the armrests.

‘But of course,’ she continues after Clarke nods. ‘We all have secrets. And he, I believe, more than anyone.’

The hairs on the back of Clarke’s neck stand up, and her heart speeds up suddenly. Yet she can’t quite grasp why, the fog pulling away the answer as she reaches for it.

‘Yes,’ Alie says, staring directly at Clarke now, bright blue eyes boring into her own. ‘He posed a problem for me, you see. But then you spirited Madi away,’ she clears her throat. ‘To protect her, and I didn’t get to talk to him or you about it. But I am so interested, and I have a theory of my own, about our dear Bellamy.

‘And since he may reach our shores one day, from wherever he is…waiting, I believe I should enlighten you all, his family, of my theory. Yes, his loyalty is a commendable quality indeed. But I don’t believe Prince Bellamy has been quite as faithful to his family as he could be.’

Clarke is frozen in her gaze. Alie doesn’t even blink.

‘I think you, Lady Clarke Griffin, might hold the answer to solving this most unfortunate conundrum.’

Octavia, Lincoln and Jaha are frowning, but Aurora looks confused, glancing between the Queen and Clarke like she’s watching a racquet match. Clarke herself finds herself blinking furiously, trying to remember something. Something important, lost in the fog.

‘The secret, you see, is about Prince Bellamy’s Grace,’ Queen Alie concludes, standing in front of her throne with her arms clasped elegantly together.

Aurora stands suddenly, pushing her chair back with a loud scrape. ‘Wait, no,’ she begins, and looks at Clarke. Instead of confusion, there’s fear, and Clarke knows it’s mirrored back at her. Twin alarms. They both know something is very wrong. But what? What was so important and dangerous that Clarke knows Alie shouldn’t say it?

‘I believe that your honourable prince, your son, your brother, has been keeping an immense secret. Am I correct, Lady Clarke?’

Clarke can only stutter, head barely shaking.

‘His Grace,’ Queen Alie says. ‘I think that it’s…’

The fog occupying Clarke’s mind doesn’t dissipate or go away, in that moment. Instead, it crystallizes, shards pressing into her consciousness. She knows with unerring certainty that she cannot let Alie continue talking.

She’s not even altogether sure why. And she’s not sure why it feels so familiar and right to draw her gun and aim it at the Queen in the red dress.

All she knows is Bellamy has a secret, and if it’s revealed, it will hurt him and ruin his life. And she loves Bellamy, and she can’t let that happen.

Queen Alie is standing in front of her throne, a slight smile on her face as she’s about to speak her next words. She only just registers Clarke drawing her gun, too focused on delivering her words to the others, before Clarke squeezes the trigger.