Written for the Drabble Game Challenge (LincolnOctavia, poison, requested by Em)

Lincoln watches her, amused. Part of him is fascinated by how much Octavia has transformed, how she no longer looks like the sweet little Skaikru girl he had saved what feels like an eternity ago.

Octavia kicks off of a tree, slicing her sword downward as she drops to the ground.

"The air definitely dead after that attack," Lincoln says teasingly, clapping as he approaches her.

Octavia scowls, returning her sword to its place. "It's a shame you won't let me practice on Pike," she says dryly, her eyes narrowing.

Lincoln inhales deeply. Pike. He doesn't care for the man at all, but he is trying so hard to keep the peace. After a few days, he's found that it's much easier for him than it is for Octavia.

"He slaughtered your people. Our people," she snarls. "How can you be okay with that? He won't stop until every Grounder is dead."

Lincoln flinches. He knows that it's true. Unless someone can find a way to reason with the vengeful man, this will end in a bloodbath. "Jus drein jus daun," he sighs. "It's a terrible way to go through life."

"You've lived by it for so long," Octavia reminds him. "It has clearly worked for you."

"I broke that way of living when I met you," he counters. "Do you remember? Your brother kept me chained up, tortured me. I could have killed him when I broke free, but I didn't."

Octavia looks away. Lincoln tries not to smile. She has become such a fierce warrior over time. Of course she wouldn't want to remember the earlier days, the days when she was still vulnerable, the days when she sliced herself with his poisoned blade to save another. She has traded her innocence for fury and wrath.

"There is a better way," he says. "There is always a chance that Pike will come to realize it."

Octavia raises her brows. "And if he doesn't?"

Lincoln can hear the hint of a challenge in her voice. He knows what she wants, what she's wanted since the news of that massacre at the Skaikru Chancellor's hands.

He wraps his arms around her. Lincoln can feel the way she tenses, and he almost laughs. He suspects that she believes that he has fallen into a more peaceful way of living, much like Luna. But, truthfully, no matter how much he yearns for peace, he will always he a warrior.

"Blood must have blood," he whispers in her ear, and she shivers as though he's said something something seductive. "I have the feeling that you will be the one to spill Pike's blood."