"A treaty between the twelve clans and Arkadia was announced at the summit. The commander proposed that we become the thirteenth clan in their alliance." Kane paused as murmurs broke out among the citizens of Arkadia. He held up his hands to bring attention back to what he had to say next.
"Now obviously besides peace for all of our people, this would also open us up to trading with the clans. Without the threat of attack we could focus on growing crops and building permanent structures. Start creating our lives here on the ground, instead of just trying to survive each day."
"That sounds great," Pike said as he stepped forward from the crowd. "But I'm sensing a 'but' coming up. What's the catch?"
There was a pregnant pause as Kane found the best way to word the commander's ultimatum. "The clans have a tradition of solidifying an alliance by marriage."
Voices broke out once again at the new information. But it was Pike's voice that rang through the loudest. "So, in light of the attack on our people at Mt. Weather, you're proposing that one of our own marry a grounder?"
Kane tensed visibly at Pike's accusation. "I have proposed nothing. I'm presenting the option we've been given by the commander. I made it clear to her that we would only proceed if the majority of our people agreed to all of the terms. And if we have someone willing to join into a union with a complete stranger."
Pike smirked at the prospect of any of their people agreeing to such a ridiculous scenario. "Not that it matters, but do we even know who this marriage would be involving? Or are we to trust that the commander choose a suitable partner?"
"It will be the newly appointed king of Azgeda; the Ice Nation." Kane stepped away from Pike to address the crowd, which was quickly getting louder. "It goes without saying that the Ice Nation has done more wrong by us than any of the other clans combined. But that was under the command of Queen Nia. Her son, Roan, has taken over as king and has sworn fealty to the commander. What's more, he agreed to join into a marriage with one of our people to seal our alliance. He's thirty years old and would be seeking a wife, if we decided to go ahead with the treaty." The shouting grew in volume, arguments broke out among individuals, and Kane could only shake his head. This is exactly what Pike wanted.
The man in question spoke up, a chuckle in his voice at Kane's expense. "I think it's safe to say that none of Arkadia's women are going to agree-"
"I'll do it," a young woman's voice interrupted Pike, and a blonde head made her way through the throngs of people to where the two men stood. Kane and Pike both knew the woman and neither were thrilled about her sudden urge to volunteer.
"Isabelle, you don't have to do this," Pike insisted.
"I know I don't have to, but I want to. I don't offer much to the people here. But this is something I can do for them." Isabelle shrugged nonchalantly, trying not to make a big deal out of the situation. Her people needed to be a part of the coalition and she was determined to make it happen. On the inside her nerves were making her stomach churn with both fear and excitement.
She had yet to leave the relative safety of Arkadia; she no reason to. Her job was neither guarding nor hunting. No, her role in life thus far had been as the resident seamstress. It was the job her mother and grandmother both held on the Ark and, though she did enjoy making clothes, she was craving adventure. The steel walls of the fallen station felt like they were closing in on her. The trees and wind taunted her, urging her to get lost in the wild world by which they were surrounded.
Before Kane or Pike could continue to argue against her decision, she added, "With all of the clothes brought back from Mt. Weather, you won't be needing me for quite some time."
"That's not-" Kane started, but Isabelle cut him off.
"I'm twenty-three, single, and have no family attachments, Marcus. There's no reason for me not to do this. Unless..." she paused, suddenly feeling self conscious. "Do you think he wouldn't like me? The way I look?"
People had always complimented her on her appearance, but was she attractive enough to marry a king? Her hair was a light shade of blonde that fell in gentle waves down her back. Perhaps he preferred women with dark hair? Her skin was fair, dusted with light freckles. What if she was too pale for his liking? She had dark brown eyes, framed with long lashes. How did she measure up with Grounder women? Surely they were stronger than she was. She exercised to maintain a decent figure, but she had never been in a fight in her life. Maybe strength was more important than physical appearance. After all, one had to be able to survive the harsh terrain and dangers the ground had to offer.
"Any man would be lucky to have you as their husband, Isabelle," Kane said sincerely, only clearing up some of Isabelle's concerns.
"So, I volunteer to represent Arkadia in this marriage. We need peace. Let me help us achieve it." Isabelle put on a brave face, shelving her worries in the back of her mind. She'd have to toughen up if she was going to marry a Grounder.
With a deep sigh, Kane turned to the anxiously waiting crowd. "All those in favor of joining the commander's coalition and becoming the 13th clan, raise your hand."
Isabelle raised her hand instantly, with almost everyone else following suit. Pike and the remaining members of Farm Station walked out, looks of disgust plain on their faces. She knew what the Ice Nation did when the Farm Station crashed to Earth; they all did. But that was under the queen's rule. She had to hope that the new king wouldn't be as cold and ruthless as his predecessor. Arkadia was going to slowly starve to death without a peace treaty. There was no way she would allow that to happen.
-One Week Later-
Polis was busier and bigger than Isabelle had expected. She knew right away that she had made the right choice; the Grounders easily outnumbered Skaikru 100 to 1, and that was just in this one city. A war between their people would have been laughably short.
She walked towards the main building along with a small collection of Arkadia's citizens. Kane, Abbey, Charles, Octavia and Lincoln had made the short journey to witness her marriage to King Roan. In her arms she held a gift for her soon-to-be husband; something Lincoln had told her would be expected before the ceremony. It was a heavy coat she had designed and made purely for Roan. All of her personal belongings that either weren't necessary or sentimental were traded in order to obtain the materials required to construct the jacket. She was filled with pride at the end result: a stunning knee-length coat completely lined and trimmed with black panther fur. The closures were made of leather loops and pieces of deer antler. She didn't have Roan's exact measurements, so Kane had served as a model. If the coat looked half as good on Roan as it did Kane, Isabelle would be ecstatic.
The crumbling building didn't appear fit for habitation, but as they were led up the seemingly endless staircase, Isabelle could see where it had been reinforced with wooden beams. Torches and filtered daylight guided them ever upwards until they reached the very last floor. A man named Titus showed them into the throne room, which was filled with representing members from the other clans. Everyone turned to look in their direction and Isabelle fought the anxiety creeping into her bones. The clans were sizing her up, instantly recognizing her as the one about to enter into a union with one of their highest ranking members. Their faces were either blank or angry and, up to that point, the possibility of the other clans rejecting her hadn't entered her mind. It was Kane's hand on her shoulder that urged her forward.
"Don't lose your nerve, Isabelle. They despise any show of weakness," he whispered to her. She straightened her spine and attempted to appear aloof. She made sure not to make direct eye contact with anyone, lest her facade crumble under the weight of their stare.
She spotted Clarke standing off to the side, closer to the throne than anyone else. Clarke had been an almost daily presence in her life on the Ark. She was a few years younger and thus had been a sort of tag-along when they were children. Any game Isabelle and her friends would play, Clarke would be there, pushing her way in. Isabelle had loved her as a sister then and, as their eyes met, that love still held. Clarke look surprised to see who had agreed to the marriage, but it quickly evaporated into a reassuring smile and nod. Isabelle was grateful for the vote of confidence and she was able to release a bit of the tension her body had held.
"The Commander," Titus's strong voice boomed, announcing Lexa's arrival.
Isabelle knelt with everyone else as Lexa made her way to the throne. She was thankful that Octavia and Lincoln had briefed her on how the court operated. This life was certainly different than life on the Ark but, for Isabelle, it was exciting. Like something out of a medieval story she used to spend hours reading.
Lexa gave the order to stand and everyone waited for her to begin speaking. "Skaikru has accepted my offer to be a part of our coalition. Today they will seal that bond with marriage. King Roan of Azgeda," she motioned for the king to step forward and Isabelle was able to see the man she was about to marry for the first time.
She was stunned. This was the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with? He was, by far, the most beautiful man she had ever seen. His eyes were sharp and calculating, his nose and jaw strong. His long hair suited him perfectly and the scars on his face, though intimidating, seemed to only enhance how attractive he was.
"Isabelle of Skaikru," Lexa announced her and she swallowed any fear she had and stepped forward. Her eyes stayed on Roan to gauge his reaction. His eyes quickly took her in but his face remained completely neutral. She was quickly learning that if Grounders didn't want you to know what they were thinking, you wouldn't.
After bowing to Roan, Isabelle held out the coat that had been clenched in her hands the entire way to Polis. "A gift, from me to you, to celebrate our union. I wasn't sure on your measurements, so I can make alterations if needed." She held her breath as he took the coat, his strong fingers feeling the fur and touching the closures.
"You made this?" he asked, and her toes nearly curled at the sound of his voice. It was husky, deep, masculine. She nodded quickly for she didn't trust her voice at that moment. "Impressive." He handed the coat to one of the members of the Ice Nation who had stepped forward, exchanging it for what she assumed was his gift for her.
"May I?" he asked, and she realized it was a necklace when he held it up. It was gorgeous; a single, large black diamond surrounded by smaller clear diamonds and suspended on a long chain. She was quick to turn around and moved her hair out of the way, allowing him to fasten it around her neck. It brushed the top of her breasts and she almost shivered at the feeling of the cold stone against her warm skin.
Her fingers instinctively moved to touch it after Roan had stepped away from her, turning around to smile shyly at him. "It's beautiful. Thank you." He simply nodded, briefly eyeing the necklace hanging around her neck before looking to Lexa. Isabelle had almost forgotten anyone else was in the room, let alone dozens of people watching them intently.
"King Roan of Azgeda, Isabelle of Skaikru, place your hands in front of me," Lexa instructed, and they did just that. They stacked their hands: one of Roan's on the bottom, then one of Isabelle's on top, Roan's other hand, then Isabelle's remaining hand. Lexa wrapped their hands with a long piece of braided fabric; silk, if Isabelle had to guess by its sleek feel. Not that it mattered, she was merely trying to focus on any small detail to help ease the nerves eating at her stomach. She knew what was coming...
"As Commander, I bind the two of you together in this mortal life. Until your fights are over, your souls will be joined. In front of the representing members of the clans, I recognize Skaikru's commitment to peace. From this day, they will be the thirteenth clan of the coalition." She unwrapped their hands and Isabelle tentatively turned to face Roan.
"You may seal this union with a kiss," Lexa said, and Isabelle could have sworn she heard a smirk in the commander's voice. There was no time to check because in an instant Roan was cupping the side of her neck in one of his large, rough hands. His lips met hers in a firm kiss that caught her off guard. She had expected a hasty peck of their lips, or even just a kiss to the cheek. But Roan was clearly a man who didn't do things halfway; or perhaps he needed to uphold his image as king in front of the members of his nation. Whatever the reason, Isabelle couldn't deny the fact that the kiss excited her a little.
Cheers and applause erupted as Roan pulled away, the tiniest of smirks quirking his mouth at her surprised expression. Isabelle barely had time to catch her breath before Lexa announced a feast in their honor and everyone filed out of the throne room. Isabelle nodded and gave a shaky smile to her people as they walked past, promising to find them in the dining hall. When only she, Roan, Lexa and Clarke remained, Roan dropped a bomb on her.
"There's one more thing that must be done," he said, and from a sheath on his hip he pulled out a relatively small knife.
Isabelle was instantly on guard. Lincoln hadn't mentioned anything that involved a knife. "What's that for?" She tried to sound calm but she knew her fear was easily detected.
"What do you see when you look at the members of the Ice Nation?" Lexa chose to speak up, perhaps to show that whatever was about to happen was non-negotiable. Or maybe she just thought Isabelle would trust her more than Roan.
Eyes swept over Roan's face and she knew what the answer was instantly. The scars. They all had scarring on their faces. She didn't know the significance of them, but clearly they were an important aspect of the Ice Nation culture. The fear that gripped her almost made it impossible to communicate, but after a few moments she managed to shakily nod her head.
Clarke moved then, walking past Lexa to stand beside Isabelle. She slipped her hand into Isabelle's and led her to a chair. Once Isabelle was seated and Clarke and Lexa were on either side of her, Roan approached, knife still in hand. To his credit, he didn't look entirely thrilled about the situation. Isabelle found some comfort in knowing that he wasn't doing this out of some sick perversion.
"I'll make them small," he promised in a gruff whisper, and she could only nod in response once again. She was terrified that if she opened her mouth, she would be sick.
A piece of leather was slipped into her mouth so she would have something to bite. Roan was clearly skilled with a blade because in only a few seconds, the cuts were delivered to her face. Those seconds were the most painful ones of her life, however. As much as she tried not to, she shrieked when the knife broke her skin for the first time. If Lexa and Clarke hadn't been holding her down, she would have shot out of her chair in an effort to escape the pain. By the end of those few seconds, her cheeks were covered in both blood and tears.
With a nod, he stood back and allowed Clarke the room to clean Isabelle's face with a wet cloth. Hands were suddenly in her hair, and Isabelle looked up to see Octavia standing behind her, a frown on her face. She spoke to the others in the Grounder language and Isabelle could tell she wasn't happy about something. She had to assume it was the cuts on her face.
Thankfully, Clarke was quick to play peacemaker. "Simply being married to Roan won't guarantee her respect among the citizens of Ice Nation. She has to look and act like their queen."
Octavia didn't reply, but she seemed to accept Clarke's answer. She continued to work Isabelle's hair into a fashion similar to hers; braided on the sides, meeting in a ponytail. Clarke applied a salve to her face to help ease the pain of the cuts and keep them clean. When provided with a mirror, she saw that Roan had kept his word and kept the cuts small. There were two on either side of her face, following the line of her cheekbones. They were similar to his own, and she wondered if he did that on purpose.
"We'll see you in a few minutes," Clarke told her, giving her a quick hug before she, Lexa and Octavia left the room. For the first time, the newly married couple were left alone.
Roan was the one to break the brief silence between them. "They'll heal quickly," he said, gesturing to her face.
Isabelle nodded, not sure of what to say to her husband. She smiled at the thought, and the smile bubbled into a quiet laugh. Roan quirked an eyebrow at her and she was sure he thought her insane.
"I'm sorry," she said once she finished laughing. "But I was just thinking about the fact that we're married and I have no idea what to say to you."
At that, Roan smirked and held out his arm for Isabelle to wrap her own around. She did, and as he led them out of the throne room and towards the feast, he replied, "We have a long time to figure it out."
