↠ NEW MOON | B. BLAKE

↠ [7.0] FRIENDS DON'T STEAL FROM FRIENDS

Ataraxia
(n.) a state of freedom from emotional disturbance and anxiety; tranquility

☽

As soon as Clarke and Bellamy entered the camp, dragging the guns behind them, Miller's voice was heard through the camp, warning them that the grounder had escaped. Willa and Octavia looked at each other with a smirk on their faces.

"Let the grounders come." Bellamy shouted, tossing the guns in front of them. Willa took a look at him. He had his clothes all dirty and his face was full of cuts and dried blood. She couldn't help but worry about him. "We've been afraid of them for far too long, and why? Because of their knives and spears. I don't know about you, but I'm tired of being afraid."

The delinquents looked at the guns with multiple expressions on their faces. "These are weapons, okay? Not toys. And we have to be prepared to give them up to the guard when the dropships come, but until then, they're gonna help keep us safe." Clarke explained.

"And there are plenty more where these came from." Bellamy added. "Tomorrow we start training, and if the grounders come, we're gonna be ready to fight." Cheers erupted through the camp. Clarke walked away toward the comunication tent and Bellamy ordered Sterling and another three guys to take the guns to the dropship. He took a look around the camp, when his eyes locked with Willa's. He had a guilty look on his face and Willa almost felt bad for him. Almost.

She saw as he grabbed a blanket and started walking toward her and Octavia's direction. "I'm gone. Prepare yourself." Willa warned Octavia, that was leaned against a tree, lost in her thoughts.

She walked away, but Bellamy rushed toward her and grabbed her arm gently, making her turn around to look at him. "Can we talk later?" He asked her. "Please."

Willa looked down at the blanket on his other hand. "That blanket looks warm. Octavia needs it. It's cold today." She said, taking her arm from his grip and walking away.

☾

Bellamy took a deep breath and entered the communication tent and sat in front of the screen, where he saw the person he had shot on the ark.

"Mr. Blake. I've wanted to talk to you for some time now." Jaha said.

Before Bellamy or even Jaha could say something, Clarke interrupted. "Before you do... I'd like to say something." She said, getting the attention of the two mens. "When you sent us down here, you sent us to die, but miraculously, most of us are still alive. In large part, that is because of him, because of Bellamy. He's one of us, and he deserves to be pardoned of his crimes just like the rest of us." Bellamy gave her a little smile in gratitude and then turned is attention to the screen again.

"Clarke, I appreciate your point of view, but it's not that simple." Jaha said.

"It is." Bellamy interrupted. "It is, if you want to know who on the ark wants you dead."

Jaha looked at them, silent, with a concentrated expression on his face. He was obviously questioning himself if he should pardoned his crime or not. Bellamy felt his heart racing, waiting for the chancellor answer. "Bellamy Blake, you're pardoned for your crimes." Bellamy bent his head, letting out a sigh of relief. "Now tell me. Who gave you the gun?"

"Shumway."

Bellamy and Clarke saw as Jaha swallowed a lump on his throat and his eyes became darker. "Clarke, Bellamy, thank you for your time." Jaha said, getting up from the seat and dissapearing from the camera vision.