Don't own The 100.

Don't own the Cover Art.

Take These Broken Wings and Learn to Fly


"Clarke, you can't show anyone your wings, alright?"

Clarke played a little with a loose string on her bed, keeping her head down. "It's because I'm a monster, isn't it?" There was a pause, as if her father was trying to understand what his daughter had just said so casually.

"No, no honey," Jake Griffin soothed, reaching out without any fear to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear and tipping her head so that she could see his sincerity. She noted silently that his grey and black wings were hidden as well, probably to make her feel better. "You're not a monster, Clarke. You were made to be a leader, that's all. And that will scare some people, so we're just going to hide it."

"…Even from Mom?" Her voice was quiet and afraid.

Jake's face fell a little but he remained firm. "Yes Clarke, not even your mother can know. She's a bit more superstitious than either of us; she wouldn't take it well."

"But do I have to hide my wings all the time? It hurts." Her young voice broke at the end and her father swept her up into a hug.

"I know it does, sweetie. I know."


"You'll be the first one on the ground," the guard, Bellamy Clarke remembers the girl calling him, promised the younger girl as he opened the hatch, his wings out in the typical fashion of the guards on the Ark. But something felt off, and Clarke focused on his wings.

They were too tucked in, she finally realized at a moment of deliberation. It was slight, but Clarke had helped her mother treat enough guards that she knew their standard at attention pose, and his wings were too tight to his back for him to have been a guard long. Or, she considered darkly, he never got passed training in the first place.

Even better.

The girl, Octavia, took a breath as she stepped onto the earth, the first person to do so in centuries. With an excited whoop, her wings burst into existence, drawing a wave of exclamations from the people still inside the dropship. Snowy owl wings stretched out behind her, the white glowing under the sunlight that filtered through the tree leaves surrounding her.

Clarke heard a few of the kids around her call Octavia an angel, and it made her happy to see such reverence for another's wings. Under her skin, her own wings twitched almost painfully in their desire to come out, but she held them back with a grimace at the flash of pain that doing so caused. But it wasn't too bad; it was a pain she has long been familiar with.

Bellamy was a step behind the girl, his eagle owl wings stretched out to catch the sun. "We're back, bitches!" Clarke heard Octavia crow out for all the world to hear and, with a roar of similar enthusiasm, the rest of the 100 ran out to greet the world they had once come from, wings bursting forth from their backs. It looked as if a flock of grounded angels were running about, clashes of red and blue and brown and black chaotic and free, and though Clarke longed to join them, she bit back the urge and looked for a map. They needed supplies.

No one knew why but, a few generations ago, the people of the Ark began to go through some unusual changes. Specifically, people began to develop wings. They started small, barely there and the correct size for the birds that had them, but recently the wings began to become proportional to the human bodies in relation to their bird.

This changed a few things on the Ark. Guards were more likely to be people whose wings were those of a bird of prey. Mechanics and doctors were also more likely to have wings of birds with sharper beaks for better maneuverability. The most notable exception to that was Abby Griffin, who had the wings of a barn owl but was still considered the best head doctor in years.

Jake Griffin, her husband, was similarly considered by some unsuited for his position as head engineer as he had the wings of a peregrine falcon, but he too was highly respected for his genuine nature and kind eyes. Their daughter was expected to defy logic in similar ways due to her family's odd history.

And she did not disappoint, though no one quite understood the full story of it outside of her and her father.

"They dropped us on the wrong damn mountain," she hissed a little in annoyance, slackening her grip on the map as her nails began to turn into talons out of annoyance. She instead glared at her hands and willed them back to normal, before any of the other birds of prey among the 100 saw them and managed to identify her species. Wells didn't seem to notice – and why would he, a part of her pointed out bitterly, when he was too busy trying to get her forgiveness to actually see her? – nor did Bellamy or the condor-winged Murphy, who both told her to get the supplies herself, if she was so worried.

"Fine," she agreed, her voice clipped but stubborn. Wells tried to join her but she told him his ankle would only slow the group down. And it would; it's not like they had had time to test actually flying yet, and she may hate Wells but she would never wish him dead. Plus, she thought contemplatively, eyeing his mockingbird wings with a thoughtful air, something still feels off about his hand in killing my dad. I don't know what, but…something.

Instead, she travelled with a pair of crow-wings called Jasper and Monty, who Clarke could admit she found herself fond of. It was rare for anyone to find their other half – not in the romantic way, simply a person who completed them; a life companion that would always be there. Those who particularly resonated were said to have wings of the same species, and Clarke could believe that after seeing Monty and Jasper.

The snowy owl-wing Octavia joined them too, as did – to Clarke's hidden amusement – the Spacewalker, Finn Collins. Her amusement came more from his wings, and his attempt to bluff people into thinking they were nothing more than particularly nice looking woodpecker wings. As a medic in training, Clarke needed to know as many bird species and their wings as possible, to offer people the best treatment. She knew peacock wings when she saw them.

As for his interest in her…She was unlikely to reciprocate, given her circumstances. She was the creature that everyone feared. Romance really wasn't on the schedule for Clarke.

As Octavia washed herself in the river, allowing water to slide down her body and off of her pure white wings, Clarke made a mental note to have their pharmacist delinquents work on a solution to wash their wings with. Water would work, but something to help maintain the luster like they had on the Ark would be preferable. Clarke herself had never used it, but she knew of the lengths that some of the females on the Ark would go to in order to acquire extra.

The sea serpent was quite the unpleasant surprise (then again, it kind of fit in with the river-that-wasn't-supposed-to-be-there), and Clarke was quick to check over the wound on Octavia's leg when she had the chance. "It's not infected, or poisoned," the blonde told the younger girl in relief, and making Octavia's wings droop a little in relief. Clarke smiled back at her and patted her knee, clearly hesitating for a moment. "And by the way," she added softly, a little nervous as she looked away. "I think your wings are gorgeous, and you deserve to be free more than any of us do."

White wings stiffened in surprise, and Octavia stared at her before hesitantly smiling at her. "Thanks Clarke," she whispered back, and Clarke felt a painful lurch behind her heart as her wings tried to arch in their already confined space. Ignoring the pain (she was used to it at this point), the blonde smiled back at her before standing up and moving away for Jasper to get some time with her.

When Jasper was speared in the chest, it took everything Clark had not to screech out in horror, intense agony coursing through her as her wings pushed harder than ever to break free from her back. Even as they ran back to camp, everything in Clarke cried for her to go back, to check on Japer he might not be dead yet!

Clarke hated the cowardice that drove them away.


It was subconsciously understood by everyone on the Ark that their wings weren't meant to be kept hidden away as often as they were. Doing so made an ache begin in their backs, where the wings were metaphysically stored.

The only people who were allowed to have their wings out whenever they wanted were the guards and the Chancellor, with the rich given a blind eye from time to time when they released them out of their rooms. That only helped brew resentment among the less privileged, as they were punished immediately for taking up more room than necessary.

The Ground changed all of that. All but two of the 100 were from less privileged families, and so they took to their new freedom like a duck to water. Everyone's wings were out, sitting proudly between their shoulder blades or flared out to catch more sunlight.

And Bellamy reveled in this new freedom, reveled in it in a way he never did even as a guard. His wings were spread out proudly, eagle owl and a symbol of his ability to lead, as all eagle and eagle-like wings were. He even had the benefit of not being a true eagle, avoiding the fear that was associated with them.

Eagles were the top predators among the birds. They were true leaders. To have an eagle born in a generation meant that change was coming with that generation. But the Ark couldn't afford to change, and that mixed with the fact that eagles were the top birds of prey among them meant that they were feared and hated, no one trusting what their ideas might lead to and what they could do. They were often floated for even talking about something different from the norm.

Shrugging off his thoughts, Bellamy turned to look around him, at what had been accomplished. People were relaxing, playing instruments made from pieces of the dropship and other…recreational activities which they were smart enough to keep to more secluded parts of the camp. Others were trying to stretch out their wings, flapping them and gliding from the lower branches of nearby trees with some success. They could fly one day, Bellamy was certain; they would fly to the tops of these trees, and be free from the people that had kept them down for so long.

As the Chancellor's son and Murphy had their knife fight, the oldest among them contemplated the Ark. How the Council Members and wealthier sat in their ivory towers and killed the poorer for the simplest of reasons. As he thought of this, he felt the desire to take the knife out of Murphy's hand and end Jaha himself, but stayed his hand. He shouldn't blame a child for the sins of the father. And yet, he grimaced faintly as he took in those familiar features, that holier-than-thou look that had yet to abate, it was so easy to do so.

"Wells! What are you doing?!" The feminine cry broke up the fight as the privileged girl made her return along with one of the crows, Finn and Octavia. So the other crow was missing.

After a while, the girl returned, and kind of forced his hand to join her little ragtag group to save the missing crow – Jasper, his name was Jasper apparently. Mockingbird Jaha was with them as well. Well, Bellamy thought, at least he'd get the chance to remove the Princess' wristband. What did he care for the people on the Ark? His family was down here, and everything he hated up there. He certainly didn't want them coming down here to ruin whatever it was that he and the 100 had built.


This fic was almost called Defying Gravity until I changed my mind. So I might make that a title to a different fic in the series.

Right now there's a lot of mythos building to do, particularly in their superstitions.

Please review.

Ja ne!