Fisa

(Healer)

Post-season 2

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Nyilah's trading post…

"Have a drink while you wait."

She knew it wasn't smart. Lingering for too long in any place, was liable to get her caught and besides that, she'd sensed someone following her earlier that day – the sensation of being watched was a palpable tingle up her spine she couldn't shake.

But it would take Nyilah some time to prepare the meat and considering Clarke had gone days without a proper meal, she really had no choice but to wait.

she'd finished the drink and even managed to have a brief look around, before the door to the trading post scraped open and in walked a tall, fur-laden grounder. His hair was in tangled, matted braids that hung down his back, his face was smeared black with dirt and smoke and his eyes were pale, blue and piercing.

The shrewdness in their depth, unnerved her and she kept her head down. Thank God she'd had the foresight to smear her own face and dye her hair; she would've stood out painfully otherwise and likely, be dead by now.

Keeping her face hidden from view, she feigned interest in some crudely carved dishes, keeping the stranger in her peripheral vision at all times.

There was a rustling and then crinkling – like paper – as she witnessed the stranger approach Nyilah.

"Dula op yu get in disha plan? (Do you know this woman?)" From his pocket, he procured a well worn sketch of a woman with youthful – yet defined features, long waving tresses and what appeared to be a worn leather jacket.

Clarke's blood ran cold.

It was a sketch of her and the likeness was impeccable.

Forcing the tremors in her body to quiet, she eavesdropped on their conversation and hoped to God, Nyilah wouldn't betray her. "Em was hir, ba days ago (she was here, but days ago)."

The stranger's jaw ticked, like he wasn't happy with her answer and Clarke clenched her fist around the dagger concealed in her sleeve.

The grounder gave a disgruntled growl and pressed closer, his upper body leaning over the bar as he eyed Nyilah closely. "Dula op yu get in weron em goes? ai gaf in gon get in (Do you know where she goes? I need to know)."

Nyilah's eyes slid to the sketch of Clarke, still clutched in the man's fist, then back to his face. His eyes were slits of impatient anxiety.

"Hashta?" She asked carefully. "ste em gon bounty?" (Why? Is it the bounty?)

Another growl rumbled in his chest, this one sounding angry, and Nyilah stepped back, eyeing him warily. "Em ste nou klir!" (she is not safe!) He hissed, clutching the drawing tighter and pinning her with a look that was borderline manic.

He seemed – concerned. Deeply concerned, but Nyilah knew it could be a trick; there was just no way of knowing who could be trusted and so, she ere'd on the side of caution. "Ai dula op nou get in. Em does nou tel op ai…" (I don't know. She does not tell me.)

There was a sudden commotion outside and Nyilah threw a few hissed warnings to the man before she headed for the door and he hid himself in the shadows.

Three other rough – looking men entered – Azgeda bounty hunters – and they in turn, questioned Nyilah as to Clarke's whereabouts. She threw them off successfully by going so far as to invite them to have a look around her trading post to satisfy their curiosity.

A barely perceptible nod in Clarke's direction, was her only warning to Clarke and the blonde knew she had to get out as fast as she could.

There was no sign of the other grounder from what she could see and when Nyilah had the others distracted, Clarke slipped away in the direction of Nyilah's room.

"hod in. chon ste hir?" (wait. Who is here?) The heavily bearded one of the group scanned the room with his eyes, sensing for others.

Clarke could feel her heartbeat quicken. They know I'm here! But before she even reached the other room, large hands were grabbing her from behind – one covering her mouth while the other gripped her shoulder – and yanking her into the shadows. She would've screamed but the hand at her mouth was nearly gagging her so she only managed a light thrashing of her head before she was pinned against a very hard body with a strong arm trapping her around the waste. The hand at her mouth shifted as the owner bowed his head over her shoulder to whisper in her ear. "Shof op, ou emo will get in yu gon hir." (Be quiet, or they will know you are here.)

Somehow, she knew it was him – the grounder with her picture. She knew only enough Trigedasleng to get by,but she'd managed to pick up enough words from his conversation with Nyilah: 'Do you know… woman… not safe.'

She couldn't fathom how or why, but something told her this man didn't want to hurt her.

And with the way things stood now, it seemed he wanted to protect her – at least, from Azgeda bounty hunters. Then again, he could just be intending to capture her himself… but then if he'd already known it was her, wouldn't he have done that from the start?

There was rushed murmuring as words were exchanged between the three hunters and then, they were filing out the door with bundles of dried meat hoisted on their backs and a 'cheerful' Nyilah bidding them 'good luck on your hunt.'

When the door shut, Clarke's eyes slid closed and she sagged in relief.

She chose to disregard the arm around her waste that squeezed her closer.

Nyilah appeared before them and shot one look to the man standing at Clarke's back. Something passed between them – a silent understanding – and Clarke could swear the nod Nyilah sent him, signified trust.

"You can't stay here. Those bounty hunters will be back. I won't be able to hide you again." Her eyes were etched in worry and Clarke tried to offer a small smile of understanding. It came out like a grimace.

They stepped from the shadows and Nyilah hurried to fetch the meat Clark had brought. "I don't know where you plan to go…" She cast a furtive glance to the man standing behind Clarke, noting how his eyes followed the blonde's every move.

"I know. I – I just need to hide out for a bit, then I can move on."

A deep, gravelly voice rumbled near her ear, making Clarke jump and she turned startled eyes on her strange companion.

"Yu gon nou klir" He rasped, eyes squarely on hers and piercing straight through her.

She was about to tell him she didn't understand, when Nyilah cut in. "He says you are not safe. He's right. You can't hide here. You need to go now."

"But I - it's pitch black out there. I can't see anything and I'm not a good tracker, I-"

Her mysterious rescuer surprised her yet again; taking a step closer, his piercing eyes captured her as he held out his hand.

"Come glong op ai." He said.

There was a stretch of silence where her eyes flickered from his hand to his face, then to Nyilah, looking for an explanation.

Nyilah was a bit shell – shocked. This grounder… she had seen him before. He was Azgeda, like those hunters, but the mark on the side of his neck, clearly branded him Splita. He was already taking a risk of being seen himself – yet for some reason, his intense interest was focused solely on Clarke and if the condition of that picture was anything to go by, Nyilah would hazard a guess he'd been looking for her for weeks, if not months.

Clearly, he didn't want to hurt her, he would have done that already.

There was another reason – one that was unclear to her; the only obvious element being that this man simply wanted Clarke.

"He - he's telling you to come with him." She translated, cutting a curious look at the man before her eyes settled expectantly on Clarke.

In turn, Clarke was floored and she stared at him. "You – you want me to… Nyilah…?" Again, she sought her friend's guidance, but the other blonde shook her head in equal confusion.

"Ai will shil op yu." He persisted, eyes flickering to Nyilah and signaling her to translate.

"…He says he will protect you."

There was a beat of silence as Clarke considered this. Then, facing this strange, captivating man head-on, she looked up into his eyes. "Your people hate me – they think – to them, I am Wanheda. You know what that means, don't you? Why then do you want to protect me?"

His eyes never wavered from hers, his expression growing earnest as he repeated the words: "...Come glong op ai. Beja…"

She recognized the last word he used and her heart skipped a beat.

'Beja'

'Please'

He was pleading with her to go with him – to let him protect her, and though she knew nothing of this mysterious man or what he wanted of her, she couldn't deny the intense pull she felt towards him, nor the way her heart tightened painfully when he looked at her with those eyes…

She wanted to go with him. She didn't know why, hell, she could be walking straight to her death and her head was screaming at her to just get a fucking grip already!

Instead, she was giving him a nod and grabbing the extra satchel of food and water Nyilah had prepared, she was lead to the door, her hand in his.

They paused at the entrance and he checked to be certain the coast was clear, before he gently nudged her by the shoulder to go ahead of him.

Nyilah caught him by the arm and when his sharp eyes caught hers, she cautioned him:

"Emo will nowe hod op lukin gon em…" (they will never stop looking for her…)

He made no reply, only stared at her.

"Chit will yu dula op? Taim emo hon daun em-" (What will you do? If they find her -)

"Emo cannot hav Hedafisa." (They cannot have Commander healer.) He cut her off sharply.

His eyes instinctively sought out Clarke who was crouched at the edge of the tree line, waiting for him, and he felt his body heat with a visceral possessiveness. His eyes cut to Nyilah a final time, glinting with a dangerous fire. "…Em ste ain." (She is mine.) He murmured gravely, and then he disappeared into the night with Fisa at his side.

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TBC…