Pawn {B.B} (1)

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Contents Under Pressure (7,2)

Tyra had gone into a state of drowsiness, closing her eyes while resting her head against Lincoln's back to get some much-needed rest for their inevitable escape.

She hadn't attempted to sleep while standing in years, the last time having been the war with Azgeda. Those were tireless times when one wink of sleep could lead to your death, and Tyra, having been in Lexa's personal guard, could not afford to be killed, she was Lexa's last defence after all.

So instead, she developed the idea of sleeping while standing. With how Azgeda always attacked during darkness, and it was practically impossible to tell the difference between her with her eyes open or closed, and being stood gave Azgeda the idea that she was constantly on guard.

Tyra doubted the sky people really cared much about whether she slept or not, after all, every time someone dared approach her, Bellamy would just tell them to go away and instead focus on Lincoln.

"Hey! Open the door!" Tyra's head swung upwards at the sound of Clarke's screaming and banging.

She still couldn't see what was going on, but Tyra did hear something creak open, possibly the door. "Get out of my way, Miller. Now!"

Tyra heard more stomping before she felt Lincoln straighten up behind her, making her have to stand on the tips of her toes to try to peek over his shoulder, though she failed at seeing anything anyway.

"What's on this?"

"What are you talking about?"

"He poisoned the blade. All this time, you knew Finn was gonna die, no matter what we did. What is it? Is there an antidote?" Tyra let out a breath, their situation had just become worse.

It wasn't often warriors coated their tips in poison, most didn't know how to use them, after all. But with Lincoln being the son of a healer and an occasional healer himself, Tyra was not surprised he had gone that route.

But Tyra had seen Clarke and Finn interact over the past few weeks, and if Finn was indeed poisoned and Lincoln didn't tell her how to cure him. Tyra feared the worst.

Seeing that Lincoln wasn't going to answer her question, which in fact he wasn't even looking in her direction. Clarke rushed to Tyra, nearly on her knees, begging for either of them to tell her how to save Finn.

Yet, even if Tyra wanted to, there were dozens of poisons Lincoln could've used, each with a different antidote and quantity needed. She couldn't help Clarke.

"Please." Tyra only stared back at Clarke's desperate form, her cold blue eyes piercing into Clarke's already shattering soul.

"Clarke, they don't understand you."

"Vials. It's gotta be here." Clarke rushed away from Tyra's view and to where Tyra guessed Bellamy was.

"You'd have to be stupid to have a poison around this long without an antidote," Clarke wasn't wrong on there, Tyra had known plenty of warriors who had attempted to carry poisoned weapons just to accidentally cut themselves and then die for not carrying a way to reverse the poison's effect.

"Which one?" Lincoln didn't reply, only staring straight ahead while Tyra shuffled on her feet.

"Answer the question!" Bellamy yelled at Lincoln in his face, but he still didn't budge.

"Show us. Please." Octavia, completely opposite to her brother, went a more passive route, practically begging Lincoln for him to say what the antidote was.

But he didn't budge.

"Which one? Our friend is dying down there, and you can stop that." Seeing that Lincoln was still not budging, Clarke once again went to Tyra.