The scar on Harley's side was something she had always been insecure about. She still remembered how she received it, as it was the first eye opener when she faced death, had Clover not swooped in with her gun and shot the grounder. It had healed completely as time went by, but it stood out against her white skin, much more pale. It ran down the side of Harley's torso, starting at her hip and crossing near her belly button. She still hated it at times, even was glad that it always remained covered. That is, except when Octavia assured her otherwise in different ways.

For now, Octavia only brushed her fingertips against the scar underneath a fur blanket pulled over both of them, drawing them down and up. Long hair loose and sticking to her sweaty skin, Harley sighed, pressing her temple further into the pillow. "What're you doing?" She finally questioned, the words muffled.

"Admiring," Octavia responded softly before retrieving her hand. "It makes you look badass." Harley stifled a laugh, the sound making Octavia completely melt as she rested her chin in the palm of her hand. Harley kept her eyes shut for a minute, feeling the other's hand running down the pieces of her dark hair past her bare shoulders. "Are you tired?"

Peeking through one eye, Harley could see it was dark outside, meaning the room was illuminated by an orange glow from candles. But she wasn't tired, not yet, anyways. "No." She shifted, rolling over until she was on her side and facing Octavia more clearly. "I should cut it. It's always in the way, sticking to my neck." Harley sighed, tucking it behind her ears.

"Good thing you're a peace advocate," Octavia commented, thinking back to the times her long hair had gotten in the way of fights. She paused, a silence falling between the two of them before drawing in a breath. "Can I ask you something?" Harley hummed a response of consent, a noise of acknowledgment. "Do you think having the same grief is what... Brought this?" Octavia finally asked, hesitant like she was walking on eggshells as she gestured between the two of them.

It took a few seconds before Harley caught on to what Octavia had meant. That sharing the same loss had somehow brought a pitiful love together between them, and that maybe someday in the future, it wouldn't work out for that reason. Harley snorted at the thought. "I don't think it was much of a secret I had a small crush on you during our time at the dropship camp." Octavia lifted her eyebrows at the admission. "I'm positive one way or another this would have happened." She smiled wide in content. "Do you still feel weak?"

"Yeah," Octavia breathed out. "But you make me brave."

It didn't take long for the pair to slowly fall asleep. Warm limbs tangled, quiet pants, and the room falling dark. Harley hadn't been sure how long she was sleeping for, but when she woke up, she shivered. The room was darker than before, all candles blown out, and the fur blanket was still pulled over her, but her warmth was gone. The space next to the bed was empty. Harley had to blink a few times to clear her vision to be sure, patting the gap before murmuring in a tired voice. "Octavia?"

No reply.

Harley rubbed her eyes, pushing herself up on her elbows. "Octavia?" She repeated a bit louder. This time, the door to their room in Polis opened and slammed shut quiet, followed by an orange glow. Harley thought twice about the weapon on the stand, before her gaze adjusted to the sight.

There was Octavia, her hood she had worn from the night before pulled over her head and a dark glare painted on her face, opposite to the tender look she held hours before. Harley frowned, realizing that the appearance had worried her, but she was more concerned over the blood splattering parts of her skin and the front of her shirt.

"Octavia?" Harley whispered, sitting up. She reached over, grabbing her shirt and pulling it over her head. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

The candle was set next to the stand as Octavia sat at the edge of the bed. "No. I'm okay."

That was all said. Harley leaned over, her chest pressed against Octavia's back, unsure of what to think. She couldn't piece together what happened, but she tried to convince herself there was nothing too dark in Octavia she couldn't handle. That whatever happened was for a reason; whether it was self-defense or keeping everyone safe. But Harley wasn't sure herself.

To assure Octavia instead, Harley bowed her head, pressing a kiss to the other's shoulder that had her grounder tattoo, choosing to pretend the blood wasn't there, letting her lips linger. Octavia shuddered at the touch, panting as she leaned back, allowing the comforting action. Harley knew there would never be a day she didn't love her, but wondered if there would be a time in the future that she'd ever be scared of her.

━━━━━━━━

The heavy wooden doors leading to the Polis room creaked as they opened, allowing entry from the crowd waiting outside. Harley looked small compared to the broad grounders, even feeling out of place. Her cheeks tinted a red as she crossed her arms over her chest, the grounder jacket that Octavia gave her pulling over her skin uncomfortably. Octavia, from her other side, gave her a brief pointed look. She ignored it, stepping to the side as a few of the guards protecting Roan from Ice Nation passed by formally. 

Kane was already in the room ahead of Harley as the arrival of the ambassadors were announced by one of the king's guards. "Amin, oyu wichen Bandrona." (Your Highness, your loyal ambassadors.)

While the other ambassadors from different clans took their places at the seats, the throne with Roan seated was in the middle, and Kane approached him first. Harley couldn't hear from the distance she was at, but she assumed he was asking Roan to reconsider taking the fight for himself. Speaking of Rafel, she turned her head, noticing the chair for Trishankru was empty. In fact, it was the only ambassador chair empty. But Harley stayed quiet, seeing Kane walk away after being denied and sitting with one leg crossed over the other.

Once Kane sat, Roan noticed what Harley had. "Where is Rafel kom Trishankru?"

Almost like it was on cue, Echo stormed into the room, pushing her way past until a path was made to Roan's throne. She leaned to her king, whispering into his ear. Harley watched, interested and curious, craning her neck to be able to peek over a taller man's shoulder. Roan seemed surprised by the news Echo gave him, but he relaxed, giving her a nod to excuse her before rising to his feet. "The ambassador was found dead this morning," he announced. "His heart stopped." Harley's mouth parted, stunned at the report. A feeling of dismay washed over her, and she took a quick look to Octavia.

Octavia was there standing calmly, her dark green eyes focused in front of her. She didn't make a move, hardly batted an eye at the statement given to them. It made the pieces fall together too quickly; beginning with why Octavia had snuck out and returned covered in splatters of fresh blood. She felt stuck, knowing it was the only explanation, but couldn't react any further. If Harley made a scene or someone caught a whisper of it, both Octavia and Roan's throne would be at risk.

"Hofli keryon kom Heda shoun em klir oso hou." (May the spirits of the Commanders guide him safely home.) Roan's head bowed as his eyes shut, mumbling the passing phrase. Harley closed her eyes briefly out of respect, opening them only to see Kane staring at Octavia with disappointment, like he caught on as well, but he stayed quiet upon knowing the risks, allowing Roan to continue. "Let's begin."

As Roan went on with the meeting, Ilian, who had been standing in front of Octavia, turned his head to peer to the two girls over his shoulder. He only spent a second looking at Harley, realizing she was too harmless and soft, before glancing to Octavia. "You gonna kill me too?" He asked, hushed, only heard by the three of them in the crowd. For a moment, Harley wondered if she would.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Octavia lied with a tilt of her head. Before Ilian could turn his head again, she reached out and rested her hand on his shoulder and finished with a soft whisper. "Oso ai niron biyo, fiya hashta yu seingeda." (As my love said, I'm sorry about your family.)

With that hanging in the air, Octavia left, leaving Harley to watch the back of her head until she disappeared, letting her thoughts wonder back to the night when Octavia seemed alright. When she didn't consider she'd kill someone standing in her way, because she thought it was right.

━━━━━━━━

The only noise across Polis' square was the chatter of people trying to sell food and different objects. Harley had her back pressed against a wooden shelter, observing Octavia a few feet away. The girl was sharpening a sword, back bent as she hunched over, too focused on the blade to look at Harley. Yet, she spoke, without even looking up. "If you want to say something, Harley, just say it." Harley stiffened at the coldness in her voice, knowing Octavia was probably sensing the tense air between them.

"I'm not mad, Octavia," Harley informed her truthfully in a soft voice. She took a few steps forward with uncertainty. "Just... Why? Why did you kill Rafel?" She kept the words quiet, only heard between them so no passersby could hear her.

After a few beats of silence, Octavia lifted her head, meeting Harley's concerned features. "We're here to keep Roan on the throne," she reminded her like it was obvious. "If he falls, we all die."

"We had other options, Octavia," Harley insisted, unable to believe that the only choice they had was to end the ambassador's life. "You don't even know how Rafel fought, Roan could have beat him." She drew in a deep but shaky breath, trying to finish without her voice breaking. "You can't kill everyone who's in our way."

Octavia's eyes narrowed and her features turned into a scowl as sharp as her sword. "Yes I can."

With no remorse in Octavia's tone, Harley's mouth clamped shut. The pair shared a dense stare for a minute, until they were suddenly interrupted by a tall male approaching. He pulled his hood down, and Harley couldn't lie and say she was surprised it was Roan. Even Octavia didn't expect him to be here, but she spoke to him in warning. "It's not safe for you here. What do you want?" She questioned, knowing Roan wouldn't have come without a reason.

"I need you to handle something for me, the way you handled ambassador Rafel," Roan answered. Indra left the housing, standing straighter at the sight of Roan. He briefly looked from Indra to Harley. "We should speak alone."

"If you can't trust Indra or Harley, you can't trust me," Octavia retorted hardly. She held her hands behind her back as Indra joined the three, patiently waiting for the request.

But first, Roan gave them bad news. "The Flame's been stolen."

"What?" Harley asked incredulously. It was the one responsibility he had to keep track of.

"How?" Octavia questioned. "When?"

"Just now, from my quarters while I was training," Roan replied regretfully.

Indra stared at the man in disgust. "How could you be so careless?" She demanded lowly. Roan cocked his head, squinting his eyes to give her a glare.

Able to process it quickly, Harley held her hands up. "Alright, it doesn't matter now how it was stolen," she decided, knowing the Flame was the only thing holding all the clans together for now. "How do we get it back?"

"We need to lock down this city and search everyone," Octavia suggested.

But Indra shook her head. "We can't," she disagreed. "If word gets out that he's lost the Flame, the other clans will question his rule, Trikru loudest of all."

"Then I'll be forced to answer their questions with my army," Roan added, whether it was a threat or warning, Harley didn't know.

"Or we can just find it." Octavia leaned over, setting her sword down on a wooden crate and grabbing her jacket, swinging it over her shoulders and putting her arms through. "Where do I start?"

"Whoever did this got in and out of the tower without being seen," Roan began to explain. "In order to risk that, she'd have to care more about the Flame than her own life."

"She?" Octavia repeated, hanging on to the one word.

Roan seemed firmly sure on it. "The new flamekeeper."

"You're positive?" Harley checked, not wanting Octavia to fight someone if it was possible the new flamekeeper wasn't. Roan nodded.

"Perhaps you should look closer to home," Indra proposed a bit harshly. "You're not exactly beloved."

Noticing the edge in Indra's voice, Roan countered strongly. "My people want an Ice Nation king."

"The ambassadors don't," Indra pointed out.

Having enough of the denial, Roan spoke back in frustration, turning to face her. "The ambassadors are cowards and know I'd have their heads. The keepers of the Flame - Fanatics." Indra grew quiet, even stiff Harley noticed, as Roan glanced back to Octavia. "I'd do it myself, but my guards won't let me out of their sight."

Nodding, Octavia grabbed her sword and tucked it in her sheath. "I'll handle it," she confirmed in reassurance.

"Wait, Octavia - " Harley reached out, not finished and prepared to stop her, but Octavia cut her off by marching away. Saddened and hurt, she watched her tread away without another look back.

"You created a killer." Roan's voice had Harley turning her head, seeing Indra's eyes following Octavia with Roan leaning over and speaking darkly. "In the street, they're calling her Skairipa. Death from above."