✮ Her head wished she had went on thinking he was an infuriating, overly-confident, horribly handsome asshole, that hated her people and always put himself first. Her heart knew he wasn't any of those things. He was a celestial; a man plucked from t...
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"Only people who are capable of loving strongly can also suffer great sorrow, but this same necessity of loving serves to counteract their grief and heals them."
―Leo Tolstoy
Astoria and the two guards reached Camp Jaha before any of the others returned, and the grounder was immediately locked in a room alone. She remained with her hands bound behind her back (her cut open palm stinging in pain) as she sat on the metal floor of the room, head pressed into the wall with her eyes shut tightly. Her head pounded, but her heart hurt the most.
She wasn't sure how much time passed before Abby and Clarke were rushing through the opening door, and Astoria barely found the energy to open her eyes and turn to them. "What the hell is this?" Abby asked the guard on duty, and her daughter rushed up to check if Astoria was alright. The grounder shook her head at the blonde and leaned against the wall once more.
"Untie her, now!" Clarke demanded, and after the guard looked to Abby for confirmation he did as he was told. Astoria rubbed her left wrist slyly, but Clarke caught sight of her injured hand and held it tightly in her own. "Mom..." she beckoned the older woman over.
"Who did this?" Abby questioned, helping Astoria to her feet to get her to the medical bay.
The grounder shook her head, not wanting to talk about it. Though, she supposed she would have to explain the dead body she had forced the guards to bring back to camp. "It doesn't matter," neither Griffin's fought her, and Astoria remained characteristically quiet as Abby cleaned and wrapped her hand.
Abby prodded slightly about the bruises on her face, and hesitated before telling Astoria she had broken her nose. It wasn't a surprise to the grounder—Costia had gotten in a few good hits, and she heard a horrible crack when the guard she attacked brought his boot down into her face—but she still sighed when Abby told her she would need to push it back into place.
She nodded her head hesitantly, closing her eyes and grabbing at the medical bed bellow her as Abby put her hands on either side of Astoria's nose. It was quick, just a rough push and a quick click and the bones and cartilage were back into place. But it hurt, and even Astoria was surprised when she remained quiet.
When Abby finished she looked to Clarke, "I need to go speak with Jaha."
Clarke nodded her head as her mother left, and Astoria squinted her eyes. "Wells' father?" She asked, having thought he died to let the others on the Ark get to the ground.
"It's a long story," Clarke shook her head, and Astoria decided she didn't care enough to hear it. "You didn't go off with Bellamy and Octavia," the blonde observed, and Astoria only spared her a glance. "Where did you go?"
"It's a long story," Astoria copied, and Clarke tilted her head. The grounder didn't care—she really didn't want to talk about it.
The two left the room together, and walked side-by-side out of the Ark and into the growing crowd. It wasn't until she spotted Finn in the sea of people that Astoria sped up, and without a second thought she threw her arms around the boy.
