Arkadia had grown paranoid, quickly. The Heathens from the east had retreated further into their dense woodlands, with no explanation, they had just left, abruptly, suddenly. Clarke and her parents hid the injured warrior woman away in their barn, apart from the suspicious townsfolk. It was a risk to aid the tribal woman, now more than ever. In a matter of days, the alliance between Arkadia and the Germanic tribes had been shaken, disturbed, questioned, and Arkadia's future was left in an uncertain haze.
When people are afraid of losing the ones they love, they can do reckless things.
Clarke wants answers. "Where have your people gone?"
The woman does not react; she watches the angry blonde stomp around the barn demanding answers to half thought-out questions.
"We were working together! I don't understand. Help me understand, please."
The warrior remains expressionless.
"I found you near death, poisoned – I helped you! You own me," Clarke stops in front of the woman, who lays silently upon a pile of furs and hay, seemingly undisturbed by the healer.
"Please, Anya. I need to know if we are in danger here."
The warrior doesn't speak right away, and Clarke sighs, almost ready to leave when Anya finally talks; she says two words that change everything. Two words to confirm all of Clarkes deepest fears. Two powerful, damning words. "Run, Clarke."
Clarke swallows her next words. They are nothing against the fear that is all-consuming; paralysing in its intensity.
"Take your family and run. Rome is coming."
Clarke blinks. That is why they have all retreated, beyond the Rhine. A Roman army is coming. "You're a scout," Clarke says.
Anya nods. "I managed to escape. Others must have as well if my people are pulling back."
"Escape?"
"A Roman captain. He is called The Mountain. He is brutality in human form. He doesn't just kill; he crushes souls."
For the first time, since Anya had been with Clarke and her family, she looks afraid.
"There may be hope," Anya says, surprising the healer with her tone.
"What? What can we do?" Clarke doesn't care that she is pleading.
"There is a warrior, a leader, among my people. She is uniting us – all of the clans."
The Germanics have battled each other for centuries. The threat of Rome – The Mountain – has pushed them together, finally. "You're making an army. You're fighting back."
Anya's chin lifts with pride. "We are."
Clarke is amazed. "Who is she?"
Later in the night, when most of the Roman soldiers are asleep, Lexa lays on the ground next to Clarke who is busy counting stars.
"You're staring," Clarke says, keeping her eyes on the sky.
Lexa smiles softly. "Did you have a good talk with Octavia?"
"Servilius has control over all of the legions in the area. There is a score of Romans watching them constantly. They are trapped."
"We will find a way, Clarke." Lexa's tone is both soft and firm.
"I thought you might be mad," Clarke breaths, anxiously, letting herself lose count of the Greek constellations. She knows that this whole intervention was a reckless move.
Lexa knows that this is about more than just Octavia. "I am not. This landowner may have information on the legions we are looking for."
"You're already making a plan," Clarke notes.
"Of course. We must adapt to every new situation."
"Of course," Clarke smirks.
In the morning, the convoy packs up the supplies and covers the smoking embers with dirt before continuing the short journey to Thelonious. Clarke walks close Bellamy, waiting for a chance to speak with him without the other Romans listening.
Octavia watches the trees closely from her place on the horse.
Bellamy watches the road, steely, strong, he marches onwards, occasionally glancing back towards Octavia's steed. Eventually, he notices Clarke hovering near him and starts to slow his steps so that they can drift to the back of the group.
"We have a plan. Almost." Clarke announces quietly, keeping her eyes on the rest of the guards ahead of them.
Bellamy shakes his head. "That doesn't fill me with confidence."
"We wait until we reach Thelonious; then we will sneak you both out in the middle of the night."
"And go where?" Bellamy sounds frustrated. He has likely thought of all these things before.
"We'll figure it out," Clarke assures him. "Trust me," She says before slipping to the side of the convoy, closer to Lexa.
Lexa gives her a small nod of encouragement. Whatever happens here, Lexa is still on her side, and Clarke takes a small amount of comfort from that knowledge.
The road grows wider as they reach Thelonious. It's a decent sized farming town. The midday sun is harsh but slowly fading, and all the guards gather around a shallow well in the town centre, drawing up bucket after bucket of cool water.
A well-adorned man with an armed escort strolls into the town centre to greet the convoy. "Welcome! Welcome to Thelonious! I am Thane, the Town's lord. I trust the journey was swift."
"We had some trouble. Nothing that couldn't be handled," one of the Roman soldier's remarks, puffing out his chest and a few of his companions laugh, nodding their heads.
Bellamy steps forward. "Yes, we were aided by these two brave warriors," he gestures to Lexa and Clarke.
They acknowledge the man briefly, trying to remain inconspicuous. Lexa scowls at Bellamy and Clarke rest her hand between Lexa's shoulder blades, subtly trying to placate the warrior.
Thane observes them with narrowed eyes. "Then I invite you to stay the night, as my honoured guests! The local inn will give you a room and a hot meal, free of charge."
"Thank you," Clarke says.
"Bellamy, Octavia, you have both been introduced to my son, Atom," he pushes the boy forward.
Atom is a serious-looking young man, closer to Octavia's age than Lincoln. He greets Bellamy with a stiff nod before giving his hand to Octavia, offering to help her down from her ride.
The young bride ignores him, dismounting by herself with ease. Thane, still standing at the head of the greeting party, does not look pleased.
Bellamy shrugs. "Better get used to it, Atom."
Octavia is lead towards the Lord's house, the biggest, strongest-looking building in the whole town. Bellamy tries to follow but is pushed back by one of Thane's guards. The convoy itself disperses, eager to enjoy the town's taverns and brothels.
The inn is one of the most pleasant things about Thelonious. The keeper is a charming old man who promises the best beef stew in town, a hot bath and to wash all their travel clothes for the coming morning. After chugging a mug of bitter Ale, Clarke promises to beat several patrons at a game of cards but doesn't when Lexa refuses to give her their silver to gamble away. When they have eaten their fill, the pair retires to the room provided.
"I don't trust any of these people," Lexa states, laying her sword and sheath upon the long wooden table by the window. It is a simple room, one large bed with scratchy sheets, an old wonky table, and a dirty chair lodged in the corner.
Clarke rolls her eyes and sits on the bed, which she immediately notes, is lumpy and hard. The ground might be more comfortable. "You don't trust anyone."
Lexa turns away from her, choosing to watch the town work and bustle through the rag covered window, rather than engage with the tipsy healer, who has been on the edge of a self-reckoning since they both left Arkadia.
The Ale has filled Clarke with confidence and bravado. "I'm going to talk to Octavia." She rises and quickly leaves their room.
Once the door closes, Lexa releases a long, shaky breath.
The room is very quiet.
"Are you sure this is what you want to do?" Jake asks, tying the last of the supplies to his old steed.
"Someone has to go." Clarke sounds confident, though her eyes give her away every time.
Jake looks back at the house, helpless, then back at his daughter. "Clarke… Why you?" When Clarke looks away, biting her cheek, he smiles and pats the horse. "You take care of my girl," his voice cracks, "It's the only good horse I have left."
Clarke rushes to him, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Jake holds his only child close and tries not to break apart. "Be careful."
"Anya trusts me. That's why it must be me. She won't let anything happen to me."
Jake nods against her hair, trying to remember everything about this moment, mentally begging the spirits to keep her safe. "Don't make me come after you," he says fiercely.
Clarke smiles against his neck. "It's okay, dad. I'll be okay. Trust me."
They let each other go.
"Tell mum, I'm sorry."
Jake chuckles. "I'm not telling her. I'm hoping that she won't notice."
Clarke laughs, a wet, pained laugh. "Dad…"
"I love you. Come home. Okay?"
"Okay." Clarke really hopes that she will return home, eventually.
Clarke manages to sneak inside Lord Thane's home. It was easy, there were no guards around, oddly. Plus, the door wasn't locked, so it was hardly an effort. The house is grey with colourful silks hanging in every room and every hallway. She tries not to think about the tension between her and Lexa. Her anger is fading into something more like guilt. If she stops, she'll think about it all, and it might smother her, so she can't stop, not yet.
Atom rounds a corner and is stunned still; he is surprised to see the Clarke in his home, heading for his betroths chambers. "What are doing here?" He approaches her cautiously.
"Octavia wants me to be a bridesmaid," Clarke replies snarkily.
Atom doesn't seem affected by the attitude, he looks back down the corridor nervously, as if trying to decide if he should say something else or not. After an awkward second, Atom clears his throat. "My father recognised your friend. He knows who she is, and he has sent all of the guards to your room."
"All of them?" Clarke can't think. Her instincts want her to run back to Lexa, dagger raised high, ready to fight – which would be foolish, she is not a warrior, not like Lexa. "I should have known. Lexa knew it was a risk." She starts to blame herself, for everything.
"I will help you," says Atom, suddenly, interrupting Clarke's downward thoughts.
"Why would you help us?" Clarke doesn't understand. "Why would you want to fight against your father?"
Atom looks down. "Octavia is not the only one being forced into a marriage."
Clarke's eyes darken. Thane is the one who rules this situation. Clarke will start with him. "Where is your father now?"
Bellamy can be heard yelling inside the room, demanding to see his sister.
Clarke and Atom walk into Thane's study side by side which stuns the room for a second.
Two of the convoy's Roman soldiers are with Bellamy, trying to keep him controlled. Thane sighs, nods to them and they grab Bellamy by his bicep. "Come on, lad. It's time to go."
Bellamy rips his arm away. "No! I want to see my sister." He turns to Atom. "Where is she?"
Atom looks between Clarke and Bellamy, not sure how to react. He just really hopes that Clarke has a plan.
"I have told you, again and again, that she is safe. Now leave my house." Thane sits down at his desk like he's bored.
"I don't have any patience left." Clarke reaches over, withdraws Atom's knife from his belt and holds it against the boy's neck. Atom does not resist. "Call off your guards!"
Thane's eyes widen for a moment before he sits back, a little too comfortable. "It's too late. They are all gone. The Warrior Heda is most likely dead by now."
"I thought Caesar wanted her alive…" Her other hand glides over her own blade, sheathed at her hip, just in case she needs to throw it into his chest.
"Not anymore." He smiles, sickly. "Now he just wants her head."
"Bellamy!" Clarke chucks Atom's knife to him, and he catches it readily.
Atom swiftly brings out his sword and puts himself between Bellamy and the Roman guards.
The soldiers hesitate not wanting to hurt Atom, and this lets Bellamy and Atom attack first, keeping the guards on the stuck defensive.
Thane stands, slapping his palms on the desk as he rises. "Stop this, boy!"
"Run, Clarke!" Atom yells.
Clarke hesitantly walks out, before breaking into a sprint down the empty corridor.
END OF PART TWO