Chapter One: One Foot in Front of the Grave
Clarke kept trudging forward over roots, through shrubbery. She kept her head down, being careful not to trip on the uneven forest floor. It would be a potentially costly delay if she or anyone else were to injure themselves on the secret paths they were taking to Polis. Clarke risked a glance up. The evacuated residents of Camp Jaha all looked exhausted. Clarke felt a dull ache throughout her body, a growl in her empty stomach. But they could not stop and rest. The riders had said that the Ice Nation army was little more than two days away from Camp Jaha when they had left. If the army had somehow found out about the evacuation already, then it might well be right on their tail now. They could not afford to stop if they were to reach the refuge of Polis in time. So Clarke, Abby, even Lexa had when necessary found words of encouragement to will people forward. It was difficult to find such words when Clarke herself felt like she would give anything just to sit and breathe a while. Maybe catch a little sleep.
Gritting her teeth, Clarke kept going. She put one foot in front of the other and ignored the pain of blisters and the ache of tired muscles. If her people could see her be strong, then maybe they would be inspired to be too. Clarke let herself smile as she wondered how inspiring she must look. All dishevelled and unwashed after three days of marching almost without a stop. She lifted her head again to seek out Lexa in the crowd. Lexa had quickly sacrificed her own horse for two young teenagers to share, as they were too big for Aldrin's cart. Lexa was equally as dishevelled, but her face was almost serene and showed no signs of suffering. Lexa was a warrior and marching was in her blood.
Sensing Clarke's gaze, Lexa turned and met Clarke's stare as she moved. They exchanged a brief smile, a small moment of belonging even in the limbo of the forest. In the space between imminent danger and a potential safe haven. Clarke's smile dropped when she thought about how the rest of her people must feel. They had been forced to abandon the home that they had made on the ground to head towards an uncertain refuge. For her friends, it was the second home on Earth they had had to leave; the dropship first and now Camp Jaha.
That set Clarke apart from the rest of the Sky people. In contrast to their uncertainty, she was walking back to the place she thought of as home now. She had been struck by how unfamiliar Camp Jaha had felt to her when she had returned. Even though it was full of the people she loved and cared about. She'd found herself happy to be there, at least once her friends became willing to approach her. But still she also yearned to return to Polis. Of course, Clarke hadn't banked on the nature of her return being quite so sudden. Nor had she foreseen that she'd be leading the whole of Camp Jaha back with her to seek refuge from an impending attack. The last time she been heading towards Polis, it had been accidental, the pull of fate maybe, leading her back to Lexa. Now the journey was filled with purpose.
"The stroll is a bit more crowded than before, is it not?" Aldrin came and walked beside Clarke and she turned to acknowledge him. Though he spoke to her, he kept his eyes firmly planted on his Commander's back, always watching and protecting.
"Strange. I was just thinking the same. I never thought I'd be leading all my people to Polis."
"I thought Chancellor Griffin was leading them?" Aldrin asked with a sly smile. Clarke laughed. "Still you must be excited to show your people the city. If we can put our reason for taking them there to the back of our minds a moment, this journey is one filled with opportunity. How much more did you learn about the Trigeda after a few weeks in Polis? How much more did you respect it's people?"
"To answer both questions: a lot. I hope everyone else recognises those opportunities. If the Sky people are a formal member of the coalition now, they are going to have a lot to learn in a short amount of time. Sure feels like we are throwing them into the deep-end, though."
Aldrin glanced towards her and narrowed his eyes, "You talk about the Sky people as if you are no longer one of them."
Clarke considered her words. She could see Aldrin's point; "I'll always be Clarke of the Sky people. But Polis is my home. Besides, whilst I'll always do whatever it takes to protect them, that doesn't mean I'll ever feel ready to lead my people again. Right now, they need me, but if we get out of this I'll be quite happy to go back to being a simple healer in the Trigeda capital."
As she spoke, Clarke took another look around at the people marching with her. Her eyes fell onto Jasper and she saw that he wasn't watching his feet.
"Jasper, watch the roots!" she called out to him. He did not respond, he showed no sign of acknowledging her. Clarke sighed and watched as Monty approached him, read Monty's lips as he said 'Jasper, Clarke is talking to you'. Jasper ignored his old best friend too, quickened his pace and pulled to the outside of the group. He hadn't tripped though, so that was something.
Clarke felt as Aldrin gave her shoulder a squeeze before he moved off towards Lexa. His place was immediately taken by Octavia. They walked silently for a while. Clarke wasn't sure what Octavia had come to say so she did not want to speak first and assume.
"He's never going to forgive you, you know." Octavia finally said. Clarke grimaced. She mulled over the unpleasant thought that this was going to be the extent of her interaction with her friends for while. First Raven had said her piece, now it seemed Octavia was taking her turn.
"Are you really talking about Jasper right now, or yourself?" Clarke muttered a reply.
Octavia scoffed. "Alright. You asked. Honestly I'm angrier and more disappointed with you than I ever was with the Commander. I knew she was ruthless. I expected her to be ruthless. But you? You keep making promises to make things better and then you break them. So maybe most people were avoiding Lexa. But I'm with Jasper on this one. I was avoiding you."
Clarke tried not to show an outward sign of how much Octavia's words stung. No matter Octavia's resentment towards her, Clarke still considered the younger Blake to be a close friend. Clarke had to bite her tongue to keep the arguments rising in the back of her throat from spilling out, pouring fuel on the flames. It took a considerable effort for Clarke. Octavia took her silence as defiance however and spoke again,
"Did you even try to find a better way to get our people out?"
"There was no other way, Octavia. Believe me I have suffered for what I did, but it was the only thing I could do."
"Well we wouldn't know how cut up you were since you left for a year."
"Because I didn't want people to have to look at me and remember what had to be sacrificed to save them! I was willing to shoulder the burden of my choice on my own."
"We needed you Clarke!" Octavia's voice began to get louder. A few people turned towards them. Clarke slowed her pace, forcing Octavia to do the same so that they dropped to the back of the group. "You told me you were trying your best. But you didn't even try to stay and help. You just went."
"I won't apologise for going, but I'm sorry I was gone so long." Clarke answered. But something had been niggling at her since the night of drinking around the campfire. Something Octavia had said had stuck with her and she'd been meaning to bring it up. "You know, you've broken promises to me too. The night we were drinking, you mentioned the missile strike. Nobody reacted, which means you'd already told them the truth. About why Lexa and I had survived."
"Yeah, well we didn't even know if you were alive. Or if you'd ever come back if you were. So it didn't seem to matter anymore. Water under the bridge, right?"
Clarke shook her head, "That's obviously not how the Azgeda see it." She hoped that reminding Octavia of why they were marching through the forest in the first place would also give Octavia pause. Clarke might not have been there to help for a year, but she was here now, at a time when she was most needed. That had to count for something.
"So maybe it was a good thing I told people. What if retaliation from one of the clans had come sooner than this? Besides, I'm not the only person who spilled the beans. Your Mother told the council in a meeting."
Now Clarke prickled with anger. "Don't you dare try to set me against my mother, Octavia! Not when I feel like I've just gotten her back." Clarke hissed, and then, "I'd never do that to you and Bellamy."
Octavia stayed quiet a moment. Clarke wasn't sure if it was because she also realised she'd crossed a line, or she was just preparing for the next bout. But when she spoke again, her voice had quietened back down; "Look. You get us out of this mess in one piece and maybe- maybe- I'll have more for you than disappointment." With that Octavia stalked off.
Clarke was about to call after Octavia, feeling quite intent all of a sudden on getting the last word. But her attention was caught by a shadow moving quickly through the trees to her right. She stopped moving and concentrated hard and made out the shape of a horse. Her heart froze,
"Stop! Everyone stop!" she called and the marching came to a halt. In seconds, Lexa appeared at her side, concern evident in her features.
"Clarke? What is it?"
Clarke pointed into the treeline. The movement glanced by again and Lexa turned back to Clarke,
"Ice Nation scouts." Lexa turned to face the Sky people, "Everyone form up around the cart! We stay still and defend this spot- Clarke!"
Clarke heard Lexa call after her as she took off full pelt into the undergrowth where she had last seen the shape of the horse. For a second, she assumed Lexa would chase after her, but when she looked over her shoulder the Commander was not there. Despite the circumstances, Clarke grinned. Lexa had chosen to keep the majority safe over Clarke yet again. Only this time it was Clarke's people she had chosen to stay and defend. The 'Sky Clan' was part of the coalition now and that made them Lexa's responsibility.
Clarke pushed all thoughts except for finding the rider aside as she burst out of a thick area of vegetation into a clearing. She stopped a moment and listened. When she heard the sound of a stream she followed the noise. She found the horse, a large black stallion, drinking at the brook. It's rider was nowhere to be seen. Clarke circled about, scanning the forest. There was a sudden 'whoosh' followed by a sharp pain as a spear flew and glanced her right arm. She yelped and fell to her knees, her left hand coming up to clutch at the wound. She heard running and looked up to see the rider rushing toward her, machete held aloft. She had just enough time to notice his fur lined clothes; he was definitely Azgedakru. Then he had his hand around her throat, cutting off her breath. He began to swing his machete, speaking as he did so;
"Yu gonplei ste o-"
The Azgeda scout toppled to the floor as someone smashed a rock against his temple. Clarke was too dazed to recognise who it was at first, but whoever had come to her rescue did not stop there. Without checking to see if the first strike had already done the job, her saviour knelt over the scout and brought the rock down again. And again. And again. It was vicious. Clarke breathed and tried to focus, she finally worked out that it was Jasper who had saved her.
"Jasper!" she called. He did not stop, "Jasper! Stop! It's ok, Jasper. You can stop. He's dead."
Jasper finally heard her and stopped himself from bringing the rock down again. He held it aloft in a shaking hand. Jasper turned and looked at Clarke. His eyes were filled with tears, his face red from the exertion. They stayed silent, staring into one another's eyes, taking stock of the killers they had become.
"Thank you, Jasper." Clarke managed.
Jasper did not reply. He simply looked down and studied the horrible mess he had made of the scout's face. He threw the bloodied rock away and picked himself up. Wordlessly, he offered a hand to Clarke. She took it and he helped her to her feet. She wanted to ask him why he had been so far away from the group. There was no way he would have gotten to her in time otherwise. Then she noticed that the fly on his pants was undone,
"Might want to fix that," she said, pointing.
"Thanks," he muttered. He did so and walked away, back to the group. Clarke followed, still clutching at her arm. She found the Sky people circled tightly around the cart, with the armed guards forming a perimeter. Lexa and Aldrin were also in the outside ring, their swords drawn and bodies alert. When Lexa spotted Clarke walking towards the huddle, the relief on her face was evident.
"The Azgeda scout's dead." Clarke announced simply.
"Did you see signs of there being more?" Lexa asked, the Commander's facade slipping straight back into place.
"No, but that doesn't mean there wasn't. Someone could be riding back to the Queen with our location as we speak." The possibility made Clarke's blood run cold. They'd been hoping to sneak in one more rest before reaching Polis. That was no longer an option.
Lexa turned towards the circled of people and sheathed her sword, "Take a moment to relax. Eat and drink. Steel yourselves. We must continue to Polis without stopping now."
There were some audible groans from the crowd, but they followed Lexa's advice. Water canteens were passed around, food shared out and quickly gobbled down. Abby hurriedly bandaged Clarke's wound. Luckily it was a rather superficial wound and it did not bleed too much, though Clarke would need to patch up her coat. It seemed like mere moments before Lexa held up a hand to get everyone's attention again,
"That's enough. Move out," she ordered.
The Sky Clan began to march again.
