Anya waited in her hut for Murphy. His hair now braided and twisted away from his face, showed off the scars down his cheek, still pink with youth. She was proud of how well he assimilated. He fought with a fierceness only paralleled by Clarke and herself. The two Sky People impressed her with their skill in battle.

"Clarke is with child, Anya."

"Wonderful." She nodded and looked at the man in front of her. "Murphy, two things you need to do. Breed with Fers, and train as my second."

"Yes, Anya." The tick in his jaw told her something hadn't made him happy. Which perplexed her as Fers was the most coveted woman in camp and as far as she'd seen she didn't think he preferred men. And being a second was a position sought by all. "More?"

"Tell Clarke she'll be training as a second with you."

"Yes, Leader."

Anya waved him away. He bowed his head and left.


Murphy returned to the shack he shared with Clarke with food for dinner. After having spent the last two months with the Grounders, they'd noticed how little nourishment they needed in comparison. Clarke believed that it had to do with the genetic modifications they went through in utero. Everyone on the Ark had been modified to survive with less while producing more. The process wasn't perfect, but it explained a lot about the differences between the Sky People and the Grounders.

He set some berries and a chunk of smoked meat in front of her as she stared at nothing with a hand on her still flat belly. "Thanks, Murphy."

"I had to tell her, ya know." He plopped down on the bench opposite her, ready to eat.

"I know. What'd she say?"

"That it's wonderful. Not a surprise really. I mean they took us to prevent inbreeding, didn't they?" He popped a bite of meat in his mouth.

"Yeah."

"What is surprising is that we'll train as her seconds."

"That is astonishing. We're outsiders."

"From what I gathered, we aren't anymore." He pushed her plate closer to her. "Eat."

"I'm not hungry."

He knew better. "You can't starve the baby out of you. Anya'd have you killed for that."

With a nod, she picked up a berry and popped it in her mouth, chewed longer than need be, swallowed, and then repeated until her plate was clean. Murphy didn't understand her behavior.

"Why don't you want the kid?"

"Too many reasons. I don't understand why anyone would want to bring…" She faded out on him again.

"A kid into this hellhole?"

"Yeah." Clarke had yet to look at him, but he could see the mist in her eyes.

"This world ain't so bad. A bit rough, but it's at least more straight forward and fair than the Ark. And I mean fair like nature's fair. Nature doesn't discriminate, I'll give it that." He picked up the plates, wiped them off and put them on the stand near the door ready for next time.

"Yeah, I guess. I'm tired. I think I'll lay down for a while." Setting words to action, she pulled off her clothes and lay down on the mat in the corner, pulling the deerskin blanket over her.

Murphy shrugged and decided that now would be a good time to sharpen their weapons.


The chatter of the tribe woke Murphy, and he smiled at the feel of Clarke's arm around his chest, her breasts and belly bump pressing into his back. Not that he'd ever tell her but it turned out that the princess had become his family. Her acceptance of him being ace shocked him, but then again, it made sense. Clarke was one of those accepting people. A luxury that he didn't even know existed until her. It took time to get used to the idea, but he got the logic, even if it could never be practical in their lifetime.

He turned without dislodging her hold on him. His leg slipped between hers and he pulled her to his chest. The baby bump pushed into his stomach. She might not want the baby, but he did. Her resentment wasn't difficult to understand. The baby's father broke her heart. She didn't feel ready at barely eighteen. The world they lived in was savage and lacking medical resources. And physically she wasn't handling the pregnancy well. So why would she be happy about being pregnant? He got it. But he also couldn't wait to meet the kid. It would be an amazing person, he knew it like he knew his name was Mofi.

When she moaned in discomfort, he rubbed her lower back as hard as he could.

"Thanks. Mm, don't stop." Her words muffled in his neck were so familiar these days.

"You're welcome."

Her top leg wrapped around his waist and she pulled him tighter against her. This was how she quailed the nausea when she could.

"Love you, Murphy, You're better than they ever knew."

That she loved him and that he was better than people thought was heartening to hear. But he couldn't show how much it affected him so, he pinched her side with his nails, a huge grin on his face.

"You're still a dick though." She didn't move away, but rather snuggled closer.

"You have to get up, Clarke. Can't leave Anya waiting." He slapped her hip, and she slapped his ass in return before rolling out of his arms and out of bed.

"Time to play?"

"Hell yeah."

They were dressed and ready to head outside when he noticed one of Clarke's braids coming loose. "Hold up." He re-braided the strand and secured it with a strip of hide.

"Thank you." Her smile though brief, was sincere.

So he rolled his eyes and pushed her out the door. "Let's go. We need to train, teach the children, and maybe hunt."

Training and hunting were great pastimes, but teaching grated on her nerves even if the kids learned quick. They headed toward the training ring, picking weapons as they entered. The crisp air dismissed the last remaining vestiges of their sleepiness. A small group of warriors were fighting in the center of the ring, but most of the soldiers were still eating breakfast. Anya watched from the sidelines though, yelling orders, praise and criticisms here and there.

When the only person standing was the smallest of the bunch, Clarke and Murphy cheered. "Perfect, Luther! Perfect!"

Luther's smile broadened as he bowed. "Clarke! Murphy! Your turn."

Clarke and Murphy jumped at the invitation and circled Luther, the youngest of the warriors at twelve, putting him on guard.

"Don't hit Clarke in the belly." Murphy said reminding Luther he couldn't hit Clarke in the belly.

Clarke attacked first, laughing as she moved in while Luther dodged her, but leaving himself exposed for an assault from a grinning Murphy. The weapons were dull but still hurt like a bitch, so Luther grunted when the sword hit his shin. Murphy, more than ready for the counter-strike, leaped over the boy's machete, tucking his legs in as he spun end over end before landing on his feet. Clarke once likened his tumbling tactics while fighting to the moves of a knight in chess. Her graceful fencing felt like a rook to him.

While sparring everyone looked out for themselves, but that didn't mean temporary alliances weren't made. It appeared as though Clarke and Luther were teaming up on him since Clarke just swept his legs out from under him with her staff as Luther tried for a killing blow. Rolling over before getting hit in the neck, Murphy tumbled backward to his feet.

"Bring it!" He smirked at his compatriots. Then went after Clarke with a kick to the head but her movement made it a graze rather than a stunning blow. She retaliated with a roundabout ending with her knife at his neck.

She shot him a wicked smile. "Brung."

Murphy bowed out and watched Luther try to get the better of Clarke. If he'd been a little less hesitant, he would've had her twice. But she had this way of making her opponents second guess themselves. Luther's defeat mirrored the one Murphy just faced. The boy listened to Clarke explain how she bested him with avid attention. And Murphy wondered for a moment why she thought she couldn't handle being a mother.

Anya seemed pleased, which was always good.

He and Clarke sat on the sidelines watching others spar. The crowd had grown and people hollered and cheered their favorites on. There were ten fighters going at it when Fers decided this was the perfect time to shove him into the ring. He cast her a scowl as he fell into the fray.

The midday sun warmed them as he and Clarke headed over to the children to teach them some of the stuff they remembered from classes on the Ark. They concentrated on things like math and science that could help the kids survive better.

"Why does Fers hate you so much?" Clarke asked in old English for a switch.

He sighed and looked around making sure no one who understood old English was within earshot. "She wants to, I don't know, date me or something. I have to keep screwing her until she gets pregnant, but I never stay the night or spend time with her outside that crap."

"Ah, she's expecting romantic love and you don't feel that way about her."

"I might've been able to feel like that but then I couldn't have… do we really need to talk about this?" His frustration riled his temper.

"No. But if you ever want to, you know you can talk to me anytime, right Murph?" She rubbed his arm until he nodded and breathed even again.


When Murphy returned from forcing himself to have sex with Fers, and Clarke saw the wounded expression as he averted his gaze, she punched him in the arm. "Go?" The irritated glare he gave her changed the suggestion to, "Go with Moonshine?"

"Yeah, sure."

She pulled the board and stones out while he found the remaining booze. The game ended with her winning because he was drunk. And for a moment she thought he felt better, or better enough to get through another day, when he asked, "Do you ever think about the others? From the hundred?"

Her answer was clipped. "No."

His face screamed anger, so she cupped his it in her palms and kissed his forehead. "We have to concentrate on living. They're gone, and we're hungry."

He shuffled to bed with a mumbled. "Yeah."


Monty rushed over to where Jasper lounged with a glassy eyes. "Erich's missing." The panic filled whisper sobered Jasper in a flash.

"We're not losing any more of us." The pair set off to look for the newest missing. "Maybe I can get more information out of Maya?"

"I sure hope so," Monty said as they avoided the cameras in the hall.


One minute Erich had been munching on chocolate caramels, a pleasure he thought he'd never have. The next he was strapped down with a drill excavating his hip bone. Nothing dulled the pain and his screams echoed off the concrete walls. Lucky number seven.