The great part about Lexa being injured is that Bellamy doesn't have to see her very much.
As a shardbearer and a target for the Venatori interest--and, after all of that, still a participant in the battle, by sheer virtue of her grit and determination and strength and pride--well, all of that means that she's been through enough to necessitate healing and rest and a great deal of stuff that keeps her largely out of sight on the way back to Skyhold. Wagons and not horseback. Sleeping and not sitting around the campfire.
Bellamy prefers it that way. Their recent shared experience has complicated things. He does not like Lexa. Doesn't trust her. Doesn't want anyone he cares about to like or trust her, because she screwed them so badly, left them for dead, worse than dead, broke her word. Would Bellamy have chosen his people over the Avvar, if the choice would have been his? Doesn't matter, because the choice wasn't his, was never his, was decided for him and Clarke and Octavia and everyone else Bellamy gives a damn about, by Lexa.
So why she had to go and be a decent partner in battle is beyond him. Why not just be dead, or, better yet, just not around, at all. Why ride off on a mission at all affiliated with the Inquisition when she could just be back with her people, since they're so damn precious to her.
This is the kind of stuff Bellamy thinks about on the way back to Skyhold. Working to keep himself angry.
And then one day he's riding, slow, trailing along beside the wagons with one eye on the countryside. And then there's Lexa. Still looking rough, but-- better.
He doesn't say anything. He nods, a spare dip of his chin. That's greeting enough.
CLOSED to lexa.
As a shardbearer and a target for the Venatori interest--and, after all of that, still a participant in the battle, by sheer virtue of her grit and determination and strength and pride--well, all of that means that she's been through enough to necessitate healing and rest and a great deal of stuff that keeps her largely out of sight on the way back to Skyhold. Wagons and not horseback. Sleeping and not sitting around the campfire.
Bellamy prefers it that way. Their recent shared experience has complicated things. He does not like Lexa. Doesn't trust her. Doesn't want anyone he cares about to like or trust her, because she screwed them so badly, left them for dead, worse than dead, broke her word. Would Bellamy have chosen his people over the Avvar, if the choice would have been his? Doesn't matter, because the choice wasn't his, was never his, was decided for him and Clarke and Octavia and everyone else Bellamy gives a damn about, by Lexa.
So why she had to go and be a decent partner in battle is beyond him. Why not just be dead, or, better yet, just not around, at all. Why ride off on a mission at all affiliated with the Inquisition when she could just be back with her people, since they're so damn precious to her.
This is the kind of stuff Bellamy thinks about on the way back to Skyhold. Working to keep himself angry.
And then one day he's riding, slow, trailing along beside the wagons with one eye on the countryside. And then there's Lexa. Still looking rough, but-- better.
He doesn't say anything. He nods, a spare dip of his chin. That's greeting enough.