Chapter 2

Thank you very much for the feedback for chapter 1!

A special thank you to my beta, SilverDoe14, for her help!

Clarke doesn't know exactly how long they have been riding through the forest, but it feels like forever. Her entire body aches; her ass and thighs burn from being perched on top of the giant horse for too long. It's her back that causes the most pain, though. The baby strapped across her chest in a rashly made sling causes her to hunch forward. The child is far too heavy to have been strapped to Clarke for this long, but Clarke refuses to let someone else carry her.

Storm had offered several times and Clarke is sure that, if he really wanted to, he could overrule her and just take the child anyway. He doesn't, though, and the other warriors have barely even glanced in their direction. They just merely ride alongside Clarke, ensuring she doesn't try to escape them.

As much as Clarke won't admit it out loud, she's actually relieved that Storm hadn't forcibly taken the baby from her. The baby's warm presence against her chest, whilst causing physical pain, is actually a comfort to her. She doesn't know why, though. Perhaps it's because she knows the child is far too young to be aware of what she has done whilst on earth. There's no judgment from the kid; she purely sees Clarke as the woman who suddenly appeared and offered her comfort.

Just hours ago Clarke had been willing to hand the baby over to Storm and escape, but she's unsure if she would do so again. In less than half a day she has started to feel a form of attachment towards the child, but Clarke doesn't fully understand it yet. It's nice for her to be around someone who isn't judging her, someone whose main interest is grabbing at her hair and snuggling close to her chest. The kid makes her feel like she is finally doing something right.

The kid isn't yelling at her or hating her for her choices. She isn't making her feel evil for pulling the lever at the mountain, and she isn't demanding anything from her. Maybe it's premature to start feeling attached to the baby, but Clarke can't help it. This young, innocent life seems to have started bonding with her and Clarke can't bring herself to stop it. If anything Clarke is encouraging it...relishing it. If she can protect this child from suffering more than she already has in her young life, maybe she'll feel better about her past decisions.

Clarke attempts to stop her thoughts from working overtime, but it doesn't seem to work. She feels the guilt that has been following her since TonDc, and since the mountain. And now, she's starting to feel guilty about the kid strapped to her chest. Clarke feels ridiculous about the guilt that the kid causes, because it's not her fault they don't know her name, but it still feels awful to just keep calling her the kid. It feels like she's stripping the tiny human of her identity.

"Relax, sky girl." Storm's horse is suddenly plodding alongside Clarke's. "You have nothing to fear in Polis." Clarke realizes that Storm has mistakenly assumed that her worried silence is due to fear, and she schools her features before offering a small shrug in response.

"Heda will not hurt you."

Clarke glances at the warrior, her features giving nothing away. She already has.

She studies him and can easily spot the remorse that is etched on his face. He wishes he did not have to take her to Polis against her wishes, but Storm is loyal to his commander. He always will be, and Clarke can't hold that against him. It's not Storm's fault that Lexa abandoned her at the mountain, and it's not Storm that Clarke wishes to hate. Clarke can't, though. As much as she wants to, she just can't. Not when there is a part of her that aches to see the commander.

"How much longer will this take?" Her impatience is clearly evident in her tone, and Storm frowns. Clarke is confusing him. For someone who had been so desperate to stay away from Polis, Clarke sure seems eager to reach the city. Perhaps she just wishes for this whole ordeal to over as soon as possible.

"We are two days' ride from Polis," Storm says, his gaze casting towards the sleeping child strapped to Clarke's chest. "We will be resting at a nearby village this evening. Heda is meeting us there." Clarke's eyes widen. She had not realized that she would be seeing Lexa so soon, and she is nowhere near ready for it.

"Why?" The question leaves Clarke's mouth before she can stop it, but she is glad that it did. Why would Lexa not just wait for them to arrive? Is the child so special that Lexa needs to personally ensure her safe arrival in Polis?

"I do not question Heda," is Storm's simple response. He's not giving anything away and it infuriates Clarke no end. "We will be stopping soon, Clarke. You and the girl will be able to rest, and bathe." He adds the last part with a grin, clearly attempting to lighten the mood. Clarke can't stop her quiet chuckle, knowing his dig at her hygiene is well founded and that she really does need to wash.

"A bath would certainly be a good idea," Clarke says. "And clean clothes?" Storm smiles at her question.

"There will be clean clothes at the village, Sky Girl."

They fall into an easy silence. Despite Clarke's internal battle, she feels kind of relaxed around Storm. Safe, even. He seems genuine with a good heart, and a desire to have those around him in high spirits. The others, however, clearly aren't interested in even glancing at Clarke. It's obvious that they are merely fulfilling the orders given by their commander; no more, no less. Especially Ash, who still looks furious about Storm essentially hijacking his orders. He doesn't even make eye contact with Storm when he grumbles something about his horse needing to rest.

"We're stopping?" Clarke asks Storm, letting out a disappointed sigh.

"Only for a short while," Storm reassures her. "The horses need to drink and rest a bit." Clarke can't exactly argue with the warrior, it's only right that the horses are looked after properly. She nods, and Storm shoots her a smile. "We'll be on our way again soon."

Storm reaches over to Clarke's horse, still perched on his own one, and tugs at the reins. The horse easily complies, allowing itself to be guided off of the beaten path. Clarke glances down at the child, checking she is okay, as she lets the horse carry them towards a river. The child is awake now, but she seems content; perhaps comforted by the warm body she is strapped to. The tiny girl doesn't stay content for long, though. No, she is not at all impressed when Clarke suddenly passes her down to Storm.

"Do not worry, little one," Storm murmurs. "Clarke is right there." Clarke smiles at his soft tone as she clambers down from the horse, rolling her eyes at how ungraceful she is. Storm passes the baby back to Clarke quickly, completely aware of the fact that an unhappy child is a loud child.

"I got you," Clarke says, noting that the child calms down as soon as she is in her arms. It's nice. It's not often that her presence is a comfort to someone; she's usually just an emotional punching bag... someone to blame. Clarke carries the child towards the river and sits down on the grassy bank, making sure to keep some space between her and the drinking horses.

Storm slumps down next to Clarke and the baby, his kind eyes fixed on the child. He seems completely enamored with her, and Clarke doesn't blame him. This adorable child, with her dark curls and bright green eyes, had already worked her way into Clarke's heart. Even after only half a day.

"You are good with her," Storm says. "She seems very attached to you," he adds. Clarke nods. The feeling is mutual. She grins when the kid grabs onto her chin, tiny fingers prodding at Clarke's face. Without even realizing it, Clarke pretends to bite the child's hands and draws an adorable giggle from her. Clarke doesn't mean to let her guard down and show her softer side, but the child seems to have quickly become a master at pulling her walls down.

"She needs a name," Clarke says to Storm. "It seems strange that we don't know her name." Storm meets her gaze and he nods, agreeing with her. She waits for him to say something, to decide on some kind of name for the kid; but none comes. Instead, Storm stares at Clarke expectantly...clearly waiting for Clarke to suggest a name.

Clarke sighs, looking all around at the area they have stopped. Trees...grumpy warriors...a whole lot of grass...a whole lot of water...nothing to inspire a name for the baby. Her eyes land on the plants that litter the edge of the river, and she smiles. Clarke looks at Storm, then back to the willow reeds. Storm follows her line of sight and he grins.

"Willow?"

"It suits her, don't you think?" Clarke asks, looking back down at the baby on her lap. The kid grins up at her, and Clarke realizes for the first time that she has a few teeth. It's perhaps the cutest smile Clarke has ever witnessed.

"Willow is a good name," Storm nods.

Clarke wonders if she will regret allowing herself to get close to this child...Willow. She doesn't even know if she will see her again after they reach Polis, but something inside Clarke tells her that she'd be willing to fight anyone who stopped her from seeing the kid. There's just something about Willow that makes Clarke want to protect her. To hide her from the horrors that surround them.

"It's a perfect name," Clarke tells Storm. The warrior seems surprised by the sudden animosity in Clarke's voice?, but it only takes him a short moment to understand it.

"No one wishes to take her from you, Clarke."

...

Clarke is relieved when the warriors in front of her slow their horses and she catches sight of a small village. Her body aches even more than it had before their brief stop at the river, and she's glad that she has a chance to rest properly. On top of the pain caused by riding the horse and carrying Willow, her head still throbs from its earlier injury. Perhaps the healer that has been riding with them can offer some help with that. God knows Clarke needs it. A brief touch to the back of her head tells her that the blood has still been kept at bay, but she wonders if she needs stitches. Would the healer even know how to stitch it up?

Clarke rolls her eyes at her thoughts. Of course the healer would know how to do that. How else would Lexa's warriors recover from war wounds? It's so easy to forget that the grounders had survived almost a hundred years in these circumstances. They've had to survive the outcome of a nuclear war; of course their healers are talented.

"Move, Wanheda." Clarke winces at the name, but she tries to hide it from Ash. The commander of death...is that really her legacy? Clarke is reluctant to pass Willow down to Ash, she doesn't trust him, but there's no way she can climb off the horse with Willow still strapped to her chest.

"I can take Clarke to her tent," Storm says as Clarke's feet hit the muddy ground. She's grateful that Storm has used her proper name, Wanheda sounds too brutal in her mind. It reminds her of everything she has had to do...things she'd rather not think about. "Follow me, Clarke." Clarke throws Ash a sour look as she takes Willow back into her arms, following Storm through the trees.

They are silent as they walk towards the camp, trudging past a group of horses at the edge of the small settlement. Clarke's heart thumps wildly in her chest when they pass a majestic white horse, knowing all too well who the animal belongs to. She looks all around the village, taking in the small homes of the local grounders. Not one clay hut or shack looks like the other, most of them built with scrap metal or wood. They're not aesthetically pleasing, but all of the buildings look solid and clearly offer decent protection from the elements.

There are several tents dotted around the village, and they're in stark contrast with the more permanent homes. Clarke assumes they are for Lexa and her warriors, and she knows exactly which tent belongs to Lexa. She tears her eyes away from it, as though afraid that Lexa will step outside and meet her gaze.

"Do you need to take her yet?" Clarke asks Storm, jerking her head downwards towards Willow.

"Not yet," Storm says, smiling reassuringly. "I will take you to where you can rest before I speak with Heda." Storm's smile drops and his features are suddenly serious. "Please do not try to leave, Clarke. My people are all around; they have orders to keep you here."

"I won't." Clarke is surprised by her own sincerity, and she tries to convince herself that it is only because of Willow. Deep down, though, Clarke knows that Willow isn't the only thing keeping her here.

"I'm glad to hear that, Clarke. It may not feel like it, but you are with us for your own safety."

Storm doesn't say anything else as he leads Clarke to one of the tents, merely gesturing for Clarke to step inside. He offers her a serious look before he steps away, and the message is clear; stay put. She waits until he leaves before she steps into the tent, her eyes widening slightly. Even for a temporary accommodation, the inside of the tent screams of grandeur. From the cot covered with lavish furs, to the clearly handcrafted table dotted with candles, to the intricate designs carved into the chairs...it's clear that someone had used a great deal of care to create the small living area.

The drapes that hang from the roof of the tent, separating the sleeping area from the bathing area, look like they were once expensive and sought after. Hell, even the copper bathtub looks grander than Clarke has ever seen. Willow wriggles slightly in her arms as Clarke looks around the bathing area. There is, of course, no running water and Clarke isn't entirely sure about how to go about filling the tub. She guesses that she would need to boil water on the fire outside, making several trips back and forth to even half fill it. That sounds far too strenuous right now.

"Maybe later," Clarke softly says to Willow, gently rubbing the baby's back as she walks across to the large cot. "Looks like you'll need to share with me, little one," Clarke murmurs, noticing that there is nothing remotely close to a crib in the tent. Perhaps the only detail that hasn't been taken care of.

She gently places Willow amongst the furs on the bed, making sure to tuck her in as much as she can to stop her from rolling out of bed. Willow whines for a few moments, her tiny brow creasing as she stares up at Clarke. It's clear that Willow would have preferred to stay in Clarke's arms. Clarke softly hushing her as she uses her thumb to stroke Willow's cheek.

"Go to sleep, little one," Clarke murmurs. "We can hang out once you've had some rest." Clarke is tempted to crawl under the furs herself, but she's far too amped up to sleep right now. She needs to find someone to check her head, and find more food. Sleep can wait a little longer...her horrific nightmares can wait a little longer. She perches herself on the edge of the bed, unwilling to leave Willow whilst she is still awake.

Willow, even at only around? 9 months old, seems to have a stubborn streak inside of her. The kid seems much more interested in babbling incoherently to Clarke and reaching out to her with a chubby hand. It's unfortunate for Willow that Clarke is much more stubborn than she is, her newfound caretaker just tucking her in over and over until her little body is too tired to keep fighting. The sudden sound of rain rhythmically hitting the roof of the tent seems to further soothe Willow towards sleep.

Clarke smiles softly as she watches Willow's eyes flutter closed, the excitement of the day finally catching up with her. She looks even tinier wrapped up in the furs, and Clarke feels her heart clench. This innocent child should not be a target for anything but love. She should not have to be rescued and hidden away. Clarke finds herself promising that she will do all she can to protect her.

Clarke ensures Willow is warm and asleep before she steps out of the tent. She vows not to wander too far from the tent, making sure that she is nearby should Willow need her. The cold rain is refreshing to Clarke, though, and she tilts her head up to the sky, letting the rain sprinkle her face. She wishes it would rain more.

Her eyes scan the village, noting that it is much smaller than TonDC. Clarke blinks back sudden tears at the thought of the village, guilt bubbling inside her. She still regrets not warning them about the missile, and the aftermath of it replays in her mind. Clarke doesn't think she will ever stop feeling guilty about the lives that were lost that night.

The village is quiet, only a handful of warriors visible to Clarke as they stand guard. She assumes most people have retired for the evening, taking shelter from the wind and rain. Most of the guards are outside one particular tent, and Clarke knows exactly who is inside. Lexa. Her stomach lurches. She has a nagging desire to storm over there and tell Lexa exactly what she thinks of her. She wants to scream at her, and throw things, and spit in her face. She wants to hate her...but she can't.

No. No matter how much Clarke wishes to hate Lexa, she knows she never will. The commander has already wormed her way into Clarke's heart. It's why the betrayal hurts her so damn much, and why it feels like she might never fully forgive Lexa. Even if a part of her understands why Lexa did it.

"Sky girl." Clarke whips her head around when she recognizes the voice calling for her. It's Ash, and he looks even less pleased than he had when Clarke was last with him. "For you." The warrior thrusts a small sack into Clarke's hands. "Heda will come and speak with you soon." With that, Ash stalks away from her. It kind of amuses Clarke that he seems to dislike her so much. Her smile fades once it registers in her mind that Lexa will be coming to speak with her.

She's not ready.

Clarke stares at Ash's retreating form, watching him as he walks back to Lexa's tent. Her heart hammers a frantic beat against her rib cage and her eyes burn with unwanted tears. Lexa. She'll be seeing Lexa soon. Clarke knew this moment would come, but she's still so unprepared for it. How is she supposed to face the woman who had hurt her so badly? Would she be expected to forgive her? No... no, Lexa wouldn't expect that from her. Clarke has witnessed a few small moments of the commander's softer side, and she doubts that Lexa expects even a smile from her.

A sudden crack of thunder drags Clarke out of her thoughts, and she realizes that the rain has completely soaked through her clothes. She roots through the sack that's filled with food packages, clothes, and what looks like scraps of extra material. It takes Clarke a moment to realize that they're cloth diapers, and she shakes her head at herself for not even thinking about that.

Clarke wanders back into the tent, reminding herself to be quiet so as to not wake Willow, and she dumps the sack onto the table. She pulls the food packages out and sits down on the chair, her stomach growling when the glorious aroma of the food hits her nostrils. The strips of meat, that Clarke doesn't even know what animal they came from, smells amazing and the berries are the juiciest she's ever eaten. Clarke is careful to leave some of the softer food for Willow, though.

She eats more than she's eaten in a long time, but Clarke is smart enough to know not to overeat. She doesn't want to make herself sick. Leaning back in the chair, Clarke once again surveys the inside of the tent and her eyes linger on the tub. She longs to bathe and feel clean, but she still doesn't know what she should do to fill it up. Besides, Clarke would much rather be fully dressed whenever Lexa sends one of the warriors for her.

A small whimper pulls Clarke's attention over to the bed, and she's concerned for a small moment. She relaxes, though, as she watches Willow wriggle into a more comfortable sleeping position, her little eyelids fluttering. Clarke doesn't move; she's too scared of waking the baby up completely. It takes a few moments, but Willow settles down again and falls back into a deep sleep. Clarke smiles at the way Willow sucks on her thumb, her other chubby hand settling on the side of her head.

"May I come inside, Clarke?" Clarke jumps, surprised, and her head whips around to face Storm. His large frame takes up most of the opening of the tent and he's holding onto two steaming cups of some kind of liquid.

"Sure." Clarke finds it so strange that he asked for permission, especially after she had been forced here against her will. She appreciates it all the same, though.

"Tea," Storm says as he sits down on the other chair, sliding one of the cups towards Clarke. "It will give you more energy."

"Thank you." Clarke takes a tentative sip of the hot drink, letting out an appreciative moan without even meaning to. There's a slight bitterness to the tea, but it's unlike anything else she has ever tasted. Perhaps, if the circumstances were different, Clarke would ask Storm to teach her how to make the tea.

"I will take you to Heda once you have finished your tea," Storm says. "She is sending someone to take care of Willow while you're gone. They will also prepare the bathing tub for you," Storm adds, a knowing smile playing on his lips. His amusement doesn't register with Clarke, though. She is much too busy thinking about her impending reunion with Lexa, her somersaulting stomach making it impossible for her to drink anymore of the tea.

Clarke has had plenty of warning, but it doesn't feel real. How is she supposed to face Lexa? What is she supposed to say? How does she control the anger that she harbors for the commander of the 12 clans? How will Lexa act towards her? Storm has told her several times that she does not wish to harm her, but the Lexa she knows is not opposed to changing her mind.

"Clarke?" Storm's concerned voice rips Clarke from her thoughts, and Clarke realizes that her breathing is erratic. "Relax. You have nothing to worry about. I promise. Eden here has a lot of experience with babies." It's only then that Clarke notices the woman hovering beside the opening of the tent.

She's young, easily a few years younger than Clarke. Her mousy hair almost reaches the back of her thighs, no braids in sight. Eden's eyes seem to have an innocent quality to them, it's clear she does not fight alongside Lexa and the warriors. It's nice to see such innocence amongst the grounders...it's reassuring.

Clarke is unsure that she wants to leave Willow with this child. She isn't convinced that Eden can protect Willow if something happens. Not that Clarke actually has a choice, though.

"Doesn't Lexa want to see Willow?" Clarke asks Storm. She's stalling, and it's obvious.

"Heda is content knowing that she is here and being well looked after. It's best not to keep her waiting," Storm says. Clarke notices that the warrior looks nervous, but she is unsure why. He has completed the task Lexa set for him and has also ensured that Ash's task is complete, too. She and Willow are here.

"Okay." Clarke sounds much more confident than she feels. She squares her shoulders and sets her jaw, determined not to show any sign of weakness. Her strides are steady as she follows Storm from the tent, her head held high during their tiny journey to Lexa's tent. Storm stops outside of his commander's tent, speaking quietly in his native language to the guards posted outside.

It unnerves her when they stare at her, giving her a once over. Clarke's hand unconsciously touches the bandage on the back of her head, and she realizes that she is still to have her wound checked properly. She doesn't miss the fact that Storm looks even more nervous now, his gaze lingering on the bandage.

"You were to be brought here unharmed," Storm murmurs. Clarke realizes this is the cause of his nerves, and she hopes Lexa will not be too hard on him. "Heda is not aware of your injury." He looks ashamed of himself and Clarke feels bad for him. She is not upset with Storm for hurting her; she knows it was somewhat unavoidable given the circumstances. His demeanor tells Clarke that Lexa may feel differently, though.

It makes her insides clench, but it confuses her at the same time. Lexa had abandoned her at the mountain, pretty much left her people to die, but now she's possibly furious about someone harming her. Clarke's curiosity is overwhelming; it's almost enough to overpower her desire to run as away from this situation as she can. Almost. She sucks in a deep breath, weakly attempting to mentally prepare herself for this meeting. It's silly, though. Nothing could prepare her for this.

"Clarke?" She turns her attention back to Storm. "It's time."

To be continued...