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chapter sixteen!
THE CIRCLE OF IDIOTS
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OUT OF ALL THE people Ares had expected to team up with, Blake, Jasper, and Raven hadn't been on the list. Their group is a ragtag one full of people who barely get along. Ares and Raven are pretty much on each other's good sides, but Jasper doesn't know when to shut up sometimes, and Ares and Blake are like a powder keg about to explode. Their leader doesn't seem to get along very well with Raven, either. Jasper is there because he'd been decent with a gun in training and had knocked the Grounder out during their trip to save Collins.

All-in-all, it makes for a very interesting venture through the forest.

It's dark without the aid of torches, meaning they have to be extra careful where they step. Jasper has already narrowly avoided walking into four trees. The ground dips and rises at random, making Ares' ankles ache when he steps into a sudden ditch, the faint cover of moonlight barely helping them along as it pokes through the treetops. The abundance of shadows cast by the trees aids them; they use the darkness to their advantage so it's more difficult to see them.

About twenty minutes out from camp, Blake abruptly stops. He signals for the others to do the same and scoops up a handful of the expired rations that had made everyone hallucinate– Clarke's clue for them. He glances forward, eyes scanning the nearby terrain for any other signs. "At least they're good for something."

"Sorry about bringing up Clarke earlier," Jasper says to Raven with a nervous chuckle. "That was awkward."

"Shut up," she fires back.

"Both of you shut up," Blake orders like an exasperated parent trying to discipline his children. "Keep your eyes open."

Ares bites back the retort, "Yeah, because I was really considering keeping them shut," because he knows how important their silence is. Talking increases their chances of being discovered, which will put all of their lives at risk. Plus, with the entire camp still partying, a Grounder could easily be sent to kill them all if they're caught.

Raven rolls her eyes at Blake's order but keeps her lips sealed. One of her hands carelessly grips onto the strap of the bag she has on her back, the other holding her rifle. Like Ares, she seems to have completely lost whatever sense of glee she'd been experiencing barely half an hour ago at the Unity Day party. Her lips are twisted in a frown, a deep chasm between her eyebrows.

Ares' mouth is twisted into a deep scowl as he walks. He glowers at every tree that emerges from the shadows as if it's their fault for being in his way if he has to dodge them. Though he wouldn't tell anyone, part of him secretly hopes that this meeting will go awry so he hadn't brought his gun for nothing. He could use a bit more adrenaline to keep himself going tonight, especially since it doesn't seem like he's going to get any sleep.

By the second hour, the darkness is so intense that Ares has to blink hard to keep himself from smacking into a tree or tumbling into a ditch. His eyelids droop with exhaustion. Though he has a high tolerance for alcohol, he can feel its effects starting to wear him down. He rubs his eyes with his fists and puffs a sigh from his chapped lips as they continue their seemingly endless trek, occasionally discovering Clarke's trail along the way.

By the third hour, Jasper has gotten sick enough of the tense silence plaguing their group and slows down so he's step-in-step with Ares. Instead of looking tired, his wide eyes seem to observe their surroundings with hyper-vigilance– he's still obviously afraid of being beyond the wall. Ares finds he can't blame him. Every trip he's gone to outside of camp has resulted in some form of trauma.

"Hey, Ortega–"

"Don't talk to me," Ares instantly cuts him off, his lack of sleep and hydration making his voice a little rougher than normal.

Jasper restrains from flinching, though his voice is clearly plagued with hurt. "Okay, sorry."

Ares lets them stew in the extremely awkward silence that ensues for a few moments. Then, he huffs again, rolling his eyes – at his own inability to remain civil for an hour or Jasper's insistence on being friends, he doesn't know – before muttering, "Look, there could be Grounders anywhere, and we can't let anyone hear us. It's in our best interest to stay quiet."

He doesn't offer any more of an explanation after that. Jasper seems a little more understanding, but his expression remains pinched for the rest of the walk.

None of them speak again until they reach their destination.

The first rays of sunlight are starting to peek through the dense forest by the time they catch up to Clarke. Blake leads their quartet to a riverbank that slices through the terrain ruggedly; the churning water is so thick with violent currents that the only method of getting across is an impossibly high bridge that connects the two pieces of higher ground. As they gather in a thicket of bushes, Ares uses the front sight of his rifle to see that Clarke, Collins, and Octavia are on the bridge above them.

Jasper asks the question that everyone is wondering. "What's Octavia doing here?"

Blake's eyes squint in confusion as a flash of movement draws their attention to the opposite end of the bridge. A tall, dark-skinned man with a bald head jogs across the moss-covered thing straight toward Octavia. The Grounder. Their former prisoner. The black, puffy eye that had swelled to twice its size is now healed, his face void of the multiple lacerations that had been present at the dropship. Ares wonders if his chest had healed as well or if he'll have scars outlining his tattoos from Ares' knife.

For a moment, Ares' finger hovers over the safety, keeping his aim steady on the man's head in case he needs to make a kill shot. He's dimly aware of Raven sucking in a breath of worry as he continues to sprint–

Only for Octavia to turn around, run, and meet him in the middle of the bridge in a secure hug.

Ares, thoroughly perplexed, lowers his rifle so he can survey the scene with his own two eyes and make sure his lack of sleep isn't causing hallucinations. The younger Blake is momentarily lifted off of her feet as she clings to the Grounder like a lifeline.

"He did kidnap her, right?" Ares questions Blake through the corner of his mouth.

Blake's voice is dark when he replies, "Yup."

"I guess we know how he got away," Raven says in a half-amused tone, a smirk threatening to pull up her lips. She's the only one who doesn't seem baffled by this abrupt turn of events– Blake's expression is murderous, Ares is still confused, and Jasper is uncharacteristically quiet enough that his existence to Ares' left is almost unnoticed.

The Grounder's head raises to look over Octavia's head. Even from far away, Ares can see his posture stiffen once he recognizes Clarke standing at the other end of the bridge. Collins, sensing his mistrust, grabs hold of Clarke's hand as a symbol of unity.

Raven goes rigid, any trace of a smile disappearing from her face.

A second passes in which nobody moves. It stretches into two, three, four seconds of the Grounder refusing to move an inch closer to Clarke, his jaw tense with dislike. Blake grows sick of waiting for a disaster to strike and raises his rifle.

"Wait," Raven says, nudging him with her elbow before he can take a shot. "Look."

Ares follows her gaze to the end of the bridge that their former prisoner had emerged from. Three magnificent horses trot out of the cover of trees – two completely black and ridden by warriors covered head-to-toe in equally dark armor, followed by a woman on a chestnut-colored horse.

Ares doesn't notice anything about the woman. All he can see are the two ginormous bows clenched in each warrior's hand and the quiver of arrows on each of their backs. Anger lashes through him like a whip, striking him with white-hot fury that darkens his expression. Apparently the no-weapons rule doesn't count for the Grounders. Clarke was right to have them trail behind.

The curse fires from his mouth violently, though it's still quiet enough that the rushing water swallows it. "Fuck."

"Screw diplomacy, I guess," Blake murmurs.

Jasper remains silent.

Collins sprints forward until he's standing beside the Grounder and Octavia, his hand still gripping onto Clarke's and dragging her along with him. His voice is faint from so far away, but it's still the loudest Ares has ever heard it. "Hey, we said no weapons!"

Ares raises his rifle again and peers through the magnifying lens. He drifts his line of sight from the bows to the warriors' masked faces and then to the horses they ride. Despite the gravity of the situation, he can't help but admire them. First a panther, then a boar, and now horses. He wonders what animal he'll encounter next.

He lowers the gun again in just enough time to see Collins take a step toward the awaiting Grounders. Their former prisoner immediately smacks a hand over his chest to stop him. Judging by his face, Ares can surmise that Collins isn't allowed to go any further.

Hypocrites. Why is the fully-grown woman allowed to have armed guards flanking her while Clarke, a weaponless teenager, is forced to take the first step forward?

Once Clarke forges on, the woman dismounts her horse. Ares allows himself to get a close look at her and memorize her features for later use. She has bronze skin that's darkened along her sharp cheekbones with tiger-stripe-like lines of brown, her angular eyes rimmed thickly with black war paint. She's dressed almost entirely with leather, her wavy brunette hair spilling down over her jacket and nearly hitting her stomach. Her thunderous expression is unreadable.

Ares wouldn't describe Clarke as timid, but out of the two of them, she's the one who appears anxious. Her steps are slow, and though she clearly tries to keep her shoulders back and her head high, her nervous glance backward tells all. One of her hands is curled into a fist at her side, the other gripping onto the pack slung over her shoulder in the same way Raven's had been.

Once they meet in the middle, a tense introduction begins that's smothered by the water and distance between the leaders and Ares. Clarke holds out a hand as an offer for a handshake, an action that would be customary between leaders on the Ark. The Grounder woman merely glances down at it blankly. Clarke slowly lowers her hand when it becomes obvious that she won't be getting one.

Ares tries to read their lips, but with them speaking so fast and Clarke facing away from him, it quickly proves to be futile. He's just going to have to wait for a rundown of the conversation once they get back to camp.

Frustrated at being in the dark, he lowers his rifle and glares at the churning water in front of them. It's not at all clean like the water was when they'd gone to rescue Jasper. This river is brown from the amount of dirt and sediment in it due to the violent current. It's wide enough that Ares knows any attempt to cross it without the bridge would be a suicide mission– even for someone who can swim. They would instantly be swept away or drowned.

"Grounder princess looks pissed," Raven comments after a brief look through her rifle's front sight.

Blake inclines his head in a nod. "Our princess has that effect."

Since they're packed behind the bushes like sardines, Ares is able to feel the moment Jasper tenses to his left. Ares glances over to see him looking through the lens of his rifle. The end of it isn't pointed at the bridge. Rather, it's aimed at the treetops, his eyebrows drawn in as he takes in whatever he sees.

"Oh, no," he mutters in a voice laced with trepidation. "No. This is bad."

Ares copies his actions and uses the magnifying glass to see into the trees. It takes him a moment to distinguish anything aside from leaves, but then he notices another archer dressed all in brown so he blends in with the bark. He's not only armed, but actively drawing his weapon, the tension in the bowstring increasing the further he draws it back into his chest.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Blake asks.

Ares flicks the safety off. Raven notices, her tone fearful as she questions, "Ortega, what's going on?"

He doesn't answer, instead choosing to mimic Jasper's motion of sweeping his rifle slightly to the right. In doing so, he discovers a second scout. This one is also drawing his weapon, though he's armed with a spear instead of a bow and arrow.

It clicks. This was never a peace negotiation– it was a trap and an easy way to eliminate a few enemies.

"There are Grounders in the trees," Jasper reports through uneven breaths.

"What?" Raven asks the same time Blake inquires, "Where?"

Both of them aim their rifles upward. Ares' heart is a roar in his ears, his blood turning to liquid fire in his veins as the familiar burn of adrenaline floods through his body. He tightens his grip on his gun to ensure his trembling hands don't affect his aim. He can feel every ounce of fatigue being replaced by the epinephrine that awakens every single one of his nerves.

He's ready. A single threat, a single sign they're going to open fire, and he'll shoot to kill.

"Are you sure?" Raven questions doubtfully.

Blake lowers his gun. "I don't see anything."

The man holding the spear lifts his hand in some sort of symbol.

Fuck. If Clarke stands there a second longer, she's going to die.

Jasper realizes it, too. His voice turns slightly strangled with panic as he exclaims, "They're gonna shoot! Clarke, run!"

As he bursts from their hiding spot, Ares doesn't have time to reach out and pull him back into the cover of the bushes. He doesn't hesitate. The bang of the bullet exploding from his rifle pierces the air a moment before Jasper's erratic gunfire does, the kickback jostling him a bit. He watches the blood spray from the man's skull as he drops from the tree and disappears into the covered forest. There's not a doubt in Ares' mind that he is dead.

He doesn't let himself think about it. His mind is blank as he watches the archer go down as well, though he can't tell who kills him since both Blake and Jasper have opened fire. Then he's moving onto the next threat– the two warriors on their black horses who are aiming their arrows at Clarke and the others.

Bang! The one on the left is dead as the bullet strikes his neck, his body slipping from the startled horse and plummeting into the river below. It becomes tainted red. The other black horse rears back in fright, the living warrior struggling to keep aim as the animal nearly tosses him from the saddle.

As gunfire continues to rain, the Grounder woman rips a knife from a hidden sheath at her wrist. Before she can move to stab Clarke, Blake shoots the blade with pinpoint accuracy and knocks it from her hand. Wrist injured from the force, the woman scrambles away and retreats on her horse, dodging arrows and bullets along the way.

Aided by a warning from Collins, Clarke dives out of the way just as an arrow pierces the ground where her body had been a moment prior. Even though bullets and arrows sing through the air, Collins doesn't hesitate in racing toward Clarke and covering her body with his own as he pulls her away.

Ares swings his rifle back toward the trees and fires two more shots into the chest of another archer. Before he can watch the man fall from his hiding place, Raven grabs his arm and yanks him along with her as the others retreat from on top of the bridge.

Blake's rifle clicks, signaling he's out of bullets. He doesn't stop trying to shoot until Ares, Jasper, and Raven are already sprinting through the forest. Once they're past him and hidden from view, he follows after them.

Ares' mind is still blank as he follows closely behind Clarke, who had merged into their group at some point. There's nothing but that familiar burn of adrenaline making his body feel like it's going to burst into flames. He isn't sure if or when he's going to crash. He's exhausted, he's terrified, and he's officially a killer.

It was us or them, he tells himself. Us or them, and they drew their weapons first. They cheated just as much as we did. They came there to kill our people.

But as he continues running, his legs moving even as his lungs begin to burn and a cramp nestles in his abdomen, the panic doesn't come. He soon realizes he doesn't feel very sorry. They had been willing to shoot Clarke for doing nothing but standing there. And, judging by the fact that the Grounder woman had a knife, someone was always going to die today. He'd just rather it not be the people he's starting to tolerate being around.

By the time they return back to the camp's outer edges, the sky has started to turn dark again. Ares has little time to realize that he has been up for over twenty-four hours by now. His movements are more sluggish than ever as the adrenaline begins to wear off, his eyes pulsing with fatigue. But he never stops running.

They stop outside of the wall, breathless and panting. Blake shoots Collins a tense glare, being the first to break the tense silence by asking, "You got something to say?"

"Yeah," Collins jabs back in outrage. "I told you no guns!"

"I told you we couldn't trust the Grounders!" Clarke exclaims. "I was right."

"Why didn't you tell me what you were up to?" Raven demands, whirling on Collins.

"I tried, but you were too busy making bullets for your gun."

"You're lucky she brought that!" Blake says. His brows are furrowed with wrath. "They came there to kill you, Finn."

"You don't know that! Ortega fired the first shot!"

Ares' sneer is packed with venom as he turns toward the longer-haired boy. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you'd rather have Clarke dead and be a fucking pacifist than have us do what needed to be done. Why do you think those guys on the horses brought those giant bows? To sit there and look pretty?"

"You ruined everything," Octavia snaps, sweeping her rage-fueled gaze between Ares and Jasper. Her mouth twists into a scowl before she turns away and storms back into camp.

"We saved you!" Jasper corrects back at her. When she merely continues walking into camp, he scoffs. "You're welcome."

The boy shoves his way between their group and follows Octavia. It leaves Clarke, Blake, Collins, Raven, and Ares standing in a tense, messy circle.

"Well if we weren't at war already, we sure as hell are now," Collins quips. Clarke shoots him a withering side-eye. Ares himself rolls his eyes so hard it hurts, a gesture that makes Collins turn to him, expression stony and his brown eyes simmering with hatred. "People like you don't change, Ortega. You're just the same dick you've always been."

Ares doesn't give him the satisfaction of responding. He merely bites his tongue so hard he tastes the metallic tang of copper in his mouth, their stares locked on one another until Collins breaks it to look at Clarke.

"You didn't have to trust the Grounders," he says. "You just had to trust me."

Clarke doesn't have a response to that. He brushes past her, heading into camp without another word. Ares can think of several things he'd like to scream at him, but instead, he merely spits out the blood that had been slowly filling his mouth.

This has nothing to do with who's trusting who and the drama that's occurring around camp. The fact of the matter is that, regardless of what Clarke and the Grounder had talked about, she was intentionally left out in the open long enough for those scouts to fire a kill shot. And the Grounder herself had broken the rules by carrying a knife. How does Collins not see that a peace talk is utterly futile? These are the same people who had speared Jasper in the chest and strung him up like a piece of meat.

Raven wordlessly follows Collins. Ares wipes the blood from his chin, wondering where she stands on all of this. Surely she can't only be mad at her boyfriend for not telling her about the peace talk. Does she feel frustrated at the fact they'd had to use killing force? Is she going to look at him differently now that he actually has taken a human life? How about three?

"Don't listen to Finn and Octavia. You made the right call."

Ares zones back into his surroundings to see Blake and Clarke staring at him. It was the older man who'd spoken, his dirt-smudged face half-obscured by the shadows and gun still strapped to his back.

Clarke adds, her voice and face lacking all of the hard edges it had toward Collins, "Thank you. If it hadn't been for you and Jasper, we'd be dead."

Ares nods, swallowing and running his tongue over his teeth to make sure they aren't stained with blood. He inhales deeply through his mouth. "Yeah." He reluctantly switches his gaze to Blake. "Nice shots, too."

He hadn't realized it at the time, but the precision with which Blake had shot the knife out of the Grounder woman's hand was truly incredible. It takes serious skill for a feat like that. And Raven had called him a lousy shot because he'd failed to kill Jaha... Well, that's a thought for another time.

Right now, Ares is an absolute mess. He needs sleep before he collapses right where he stands, so he walks between the two co-leaders and into the camp to find his tent.

To the best Unity Day yet. What a load of bullshit that toast with Nate and Kiernan had been.

_________

a/n:

ares bringing his beloved rifle to the meeting with the grounders:

ares realizing the grounders also have weapons and that they're going to kill clarke:

our boy ares has taken his first three human lives,,, yikes. this will cause some huge rifts and character development, obviously, which will be really interesting to write!

for those of you wondering why he didn't have a panic attack, ares has realized that to survive on the ground means doing whatever it takes to survive. if the scouts had been chilling there, he would have merely kept an eye on them and not used deadly force. but since they had obviously been about to fire, he'd struck first. he's also too exhausted (homeboy has been awake since the morning of unity day) and angry to really consider the weight of his actions.

the song "i did something bad" by taylor swift was playing as i edited the scene of the altercation at the end (i was listening to the playlist for the book) and it was SO fitting. that song is basically ares in a nutshell and it's SO GOOD. if my old laptop with sony vegas pro was working, i would make an edit of ares to that song.

sometimes i like reading the scenes from my bellamy fic and comparing them to the scenes in this book because my OCs' reactions are so different from each other. it's truly interesting to realize how different fallon and ares are from each other!

on that note, i'm out. thank you for reading and i hope you enjoyed the chapter!

–kristyn

( word count: 4.0k )