I'm only honest when it rains.
If I time it right, the thunder breaks
When I open my mouth.
I want to tell you but I don't know how.

"Chancellor." He threw very officially entering the vast room provided by Lexa's people in the incredibly tall tower overlooking at Polis. The sunset dim light coming in from the large window panes, gave a dark orange tint to the room. "You wanted to see me?" The see-through drapes lifted with the late evening breeze. Subtle, but still a presage of the storm brewing in the distance.

Chancellor Abby Griffin kept her eyes down at the grounders' metropole around with crossed arms. The only signs testifying that she acknowledged his presence was the fine weight shift from one foot to the other. She was still mad at him? So be it, he thought. He still held a grudge a her for opening that hospital in Mount Weather. Had she waited one more day, he could've told her the timing couldn't be worst. But had she ever listened to his warnings? No consequences was hard enough to keep Abby Griffin from doing what she pleased. His gaze was drawn to the perfectly defined silhouette in the light. He bit his lip and forced himself to look away. Cunning woman, he thought.

"Clarke is here." She finally said.

Instinctively, he re-scanned the room; maybe he missed the blond young woman in the depth of the poorly lit room, but the Chancellor and her Councillor were alone in the silent suite. However, he noticed a piece of beige tissue with writings on it. It was laid flat on the table, nearby. His boots echoed with the few steps he took to reach and the note.

Mom,

I had hope you'd come in Polis, too. I'm sorry for leaving without saying goodbye, I really needed the time alone. After Mount Weather, it's better for everyone if I stay hidden for now. I hope you understand. I just wanted you to know that I'm okay. Be safe.

Love,
Clarke.

He looked at the tissue itself and noticed dark spots, he figured might be tears; either the daughter's or the mother's.

Clarke was in Polis, but wasn't ready to meet, nor return to Arkadia with them. He promised Abby they weren't leaving without Clarke, but he didn't expect they would have to force her. If she didn't need saving, what could they do? What could he do? On the other hand, he could not blame her for trying nor could he blame her for caring for her only child. He was sure that the day Clarke would stop being such a burden, Chancellor Abby Griffin would be everything he hoped her to be. She would be the ruler their people needed to survive and the leader he was so eager to follow. Although, wasn't her love for her daughter the source of her strength? It had kept her hopes up and kept her strong and able to withstand any sort of pain. It kept her sane and shaped her into the woman that now stood in front of him. It shaped her into the woman he came to admire and, despite it all, grew fond of.

He stepped away from the table.

Whatever Abby Griffin wanted, she always found a way to make it known. Or at least, he always managed to came aware of it, with little effort. So he stood in the middle of the room, waiting.

"I want to see her." She said. "She's not okay."

"Abby?" he said with a soft voice.

She turned around. Her eyes had been crying, her eyebrows were furrowed. The dim light, add a chill to the scene.

"I want you to find her and bring me to her."

"And if she doesn't want me to?"

"Are you working for me, or for her? Bring me to her. That's an order, Councillor." The stress on his title, was a spiteful reproach for calling her 'Chancellor' when he entered. A smile crack the corner of his lips as his stare was drawn to the floor. She turned back to the window, watching the last rays of sun as it set. "That would be all."

"Understood."

There was no way, he would convince her otherwise, but he stayed and observed her. Her stature, even if madly angry, irradiated in the room. Somehow it comforted him. He was content with making her Chancellor. She was a better, more righteous ruler than he would have ever been. And from that moment forward, he knew he would follow her anywhere, even if she asked him not to. Like the great knights, he would have sworn his sword to her.

"Why are you still here?"

Her words startled him out of his noble thoughts.

"I wanted to apologize."

He stepped forward and stood next to her, crossing his arms as well. Like her he looked at the distance, where the sun set. He felt her dark frown upon him; he was not intimidated.

"We saw Clarke, before she was brought to Polis. I shouldn't have kept it from you." Then Kane told her about the Ice Nation marching off limits, the bounty on Clarke's head and the symbol she represented among the grounders. Throughout his claims, her arms fell to her sides and she took a step back. When she turned back to the window, he did as well. Dark clouds were covering the skies already. She pinched her lips and shook her head.

"Didn't you think I deserved to know that? Coming back to Arkadia, then in the two days travel to Polis, not once have you found a moment to tell me all this? Didn't you think, I would rather hear it from you than Bellamy?"

Now that she mentioned it, it seemed obvious that she would have question the young man dressed as Azgeda when he got to Medical for a knifed thigh. That's what it was all about. The resentment, the frowns; she was punishing him for keeping the information from her.

"When were you gonna tell me?"

Don't answer, he reminded himself while his stare lowered to her pinched lips and his mind wandered to forbidden grounds. He closed his eyes and said what she wanted hear: "You are right. I should have told you right away."

"At last, we agree on something."

He was about to explain, but she hushed him with an open hand.

"I don't care about your excuses."

"You care about Clarke. I just wanted to know the whole story before telling you."

"I'd really wish you knew when to speak and when not to."

As to prove her right, he provided her a perfect example:

"I wish everything not to be about Clarke all the time."

She fired him a look. He quickly turned away to the window. He tighten his arms over his chest. Why had he said that? It came out spontaneously, even he thought it was rude. Everything was indeed about Clarke, but he understood why. He knew why. Why was he so eager for this chapter to close? The answer came naturally; because it pains her. The sleepless nights, the never-ending worries, the silent prayers, the fact that her drilled knee still twitched every now and then, though it should have fully healed by now. All so many symptoms reflecting her inability to cope with Clarke's departure.

Apologizing himself out of this one seemed improbable, but she did swallow it.

"I can't just move on, Marcus." She turned to him with redned eyes. Her voice broke when she shrugged and said: "She's my little girl."

"I know."

Simultaneously, he uncrossed his arms and she step forward to wrap hers around him.

"I know." He repeated softly as she sobbed in his chest. "I'll find her."

The thunder rumbled nearby and the rain fell down on Polis. He felt her heart pound against his chest and he closed his eyes. He brushed his hair and kissed her the top of her head. "I promise."

They held the embrace until the sky was dark blue and the sun completely set. Down in the city, fire torches were lit and swayed with the rain.

I don't know how.
I want to love you but I don't know how.

Song lyrics from "Neptune" by Sleeping at last.