Chapter Four
Disclaimer: I own nothing mentioned in this story.
Clarke groans as she opens her eyes. The sun is gone and she sits up, head swimming. Her feet touch the ground and she meets bright brown eyes. The boy who had fought with her grins at her. "You're awake."
Clarke feels the back of her head, it is stitched but the blood is still matted in her hair. "Yeah, how long was I out?"
"All day. The Reaper got you good. Anya just left to go get food." He bounces in his seat. "I get my marks tonight." He looks excited.
"Marks?" Clarke stares at the boy in confusion before she pulls her shoulder down on her shirt. The bite mark is bandaged and she peels it back and winces as she sees the wound. It was scabbing over but it was bright red, she would have to clean it out again.
"I killed five Reapers in battle, I get five marks. My father is proud." He continues to kick his feet in a childlike manner. She swallows and opens her mouth but he speaks before she can. "You get twelve, they don't hurt to bad."
Anya comes in before Clarke can question the boy, she looks to him. "Go eat. Your father wants you." He smiles at Clarke and then takes off running. "He is good. You did well with him."
"You mean fighting next to him? How old is he?" Clarke stares at Anya as the woman sets food on the table by the cot.
She looks back at the entrance to the tent before closing the flap. "He is thirteen. Small for his age but swift."
"He's to young to be fighting in a war!" Clarke stands up and her head swims. She catches herself on the cot and Anya watches her with calculating eyes.
"He is old enough to understand." She tilts her head to the food. "Lincoln said you need to eat and drink plenty of water."
"I'll eat when we're done talking. You're going to brand him. Give him those marks like you have?" Clarke stares at her, face pace but strong.
"He earned the marks. They are a sign of strength. He will receive his marks from his father. You will get your marks tonight." Anya moves forward and pushes on Clarke's uninjured shoulder. "Sit and eat."
She shrugs the hand off. "What if I don't want the marks?"
"It is our way, you will receive your marks." Anya pushes against her shoulder again. "Lincoln said to eat."
"I don't care what Lincoln said." She shoves the hand off her shoulder. "You're branding thirteen year old kids."
"They are warriors and they wear the marks with pride."
"They're thirteen and they killed someone! They shouldn't be proud." Clarke's eyes are frantic as she thinks of Charlotte.
"It's kill or be killed. We fight to survive. The world isn't kind to the weak or strong. But the strong survive." Brown eyes flash with emotion.
"But at the risk of losing their humanity?!" Clarke's hands slam down on her thighs.
"Humanity is nothing. The Earth isn't humane, why would we be?"
"Because they're children!" Blue eyes water.
"And your people are human? Killing thoses for small crimes. Putting you in a cell only to kill you? Lincoln and I have discussed your people. Are your people really better than mine? Who kills hundreds of their own in one night?" Tears prick at Clarkes eyes. "Hundreds of your people are dead because your leaders believe themselves to be gods. Who are the real monsters? These that kill for the smallest crimes or those that teach their young to survive?" Anya stares at Clarke, eyes blazing.
"Shut up." Clarke swallows. "Just shut up."
"Eat your food. You will earn your marks after dinner." Anya passes her the plate. "Your family or unioned gives you the marks in the privacy of your tent." Anya gets up. "I will send Lincoln in."
The older woman leaves and Clarke stares at the entry, she swallows and Lincoln comes in. He checks her head. "You will be fine. Eat plenty." He pulls her chin up. "The ways of my people may seem barbaric and wrong but they have kept us alive this long. Not all of us are mindless warriors." He pauses and looks into her blue eyes. "Including Anya. She was a soft hearted child. She just grew up needing to be strong. She saved all of us." He leaves as Octavia comes in.
The younger Blake child grins. "Hey, Bell and the others were flipping their lids. I figured I 'd ride to check on you again. Had to convince the others not to come."
Clarke smiles weakly back. "I'm good, just wasn't paying attention to my surroundings."
Octavia grins wider at that. "Bell is gonna give you a field day about that." The girl rushes forward and pulls Clarke into a hug. "I'm glad you're okay, I was worried. There was a lot of blood."
"Head wounds tend to look worse than they are." Clarke smiles and her fingers brush the back of her skull. "Though I could use a shower."
Octavia laughs loudly. "I miss showers, but at least we can bathe in the creek and lake." Octavia winces. "As long as we're not on the eastern part." She shudders. "Stupid snake." Clarke winces in sympathy. She brushes bloodied locks out of Clarke's face with a soft smile. "I gotta head back and let them know you're okay."
Clarke smiles. "Thanks Octavia, tell them not to worry." Blue eyes flash. "And watch for Reapers." She shudders and reaches for her shoulder.
Octavia's eyes move to the bandaged bite mark. "He just bit you?"
"Yeah, something isn't right about them." She shakes her head, remembering the way it had grinned at her before biting her. "They're strong to. Extremely strong."
"I'll keep that in mind. Stay safe Clarke."
"You to Octavia."
Octavia leaves and Clarke finishes her food. She leaves the tent and looks around the camp. Some of the warriors nod in greeting to her, other watch her with calculating eyes. The boy from earlier drops down next to her, shoulder red with fresh wounds. "They respect you now. They saw what you did out there." He bounces beside her and she grabs his shirt, moving it to look at the wounds. "Dad told me to put it on my back, more room. Only a few men get it on their chest."
"You'll need to keep it clean, and put some sa-"
"Salve on it, my moms the herb maker, she has some. You've met her before." He continues to bounce beside her. "Anya was finishing with the other warriors, going over guard duty. She will be in your tent in a little bit." His brown eyes flash. "Where are you getting your marks?"
"I don't know." She whispers it and opens her tent flap. She turns to look at the boy. "Thank you, for having my back out there."
He shrugs. "You fought well, it was fun fighting beside you." He grins and waves goodbye before running off to a group of other children his age.
She sighs and sits on her bed. She fingers the bandage on her shoulder. Anya comes in. She looks over Clarke. "Lay down on you stomach, shirt off." Clarke opens her mouth. "My people will lose respect if you do not receive your marks. They will take insult to it and reject you and your people. You lead by me therefore you need your marks."
Clarke swallows. "Fine." She slips out of her shirt and lays down on the bed. She feels Anya climb on the bed, resting on her lower back and hips.
She feels the woman shift until she holds a hot iron in her hand. "Bite on the pillow. Do not scream." She feels it touch her left shoulder and bites into the bedding. It happens again and again and again. She holds in her screams and groans of pain until she feels cool salve being put on her shoulder. It dulls the throb. "Done, twelve kills."
She stands up and Clarke looks to her. "Who does yours?"
"My second, soon you should do them for me. My people will question if you don't."
"Your people ask too many questions."
"They have high respect for who leads them. If they doubt them they are allowed to challenge them. They are punished if they do not abide by rules. If they doubt me they bring it to me. They challenge me and if I win they are disgraced until they earn respect again."
Clarke's eyes close sleepily. "Grounder rules are odd."
Brown eyes stare at the woman sleeping on the bed. Shoulder bright red with fresh wounds. Anya sighs and shakes her head, her own shoulder throbbing in time to her heart.
One week later
Clarke waits by the fire pit with Iruz, the boy who had fought by her side. He had begun to follow her around, learning medicine and helping her learn to fight. Anya rolled her eyes the first time Clarke took the boy down and pinned him. "Fight against someone your size Sky Princess." Clarke would roll her eyes and then Iruz would pin her down with a smirk and a triumphant yell.
Clarke's blue eyes look to the gate. The warriors had been gone since yesterday night, it was now noon. Worried eyes watch for Anya. It had been six and a half weeks since the union. They had been on the ground for almost three months, fifteen weeks. She watches for the warriors. Listens for the familiar sound.
There is shouting and the gate opens. Men are brought in on the back of horse and Clarke runs forward, seeing blood. Anya is slumped against a horse. She slips down with the help of a blonde man, Teran, her friend. "Clarke!" Teran yells for her. Clarke grabs Anya's face and looks it over. Her brown eyes are dull, pained.
"What happened?" She turns sharp blue eyes to Teran.
"Reapers then a rival village. They had poisoned arrows and swords. A few of us got hit."
"The poison color?" She looks over Anya's wounds. The woman tries to shove her off and stand up but her body fights her. Other warriors are groaning as they fight their own wounds. Tris, Anya's second holds Anya's bow and watches the woman will fear-filled eyes. They water but tears never fall as the young girl watches her leader practically die.
"Black, bright blue and and a red one." Clarke clenches her jaws at the man's words.
"If you were hit with red poison get by the fire pit. Black goes to the healer tent and blue by the weapons shake. NOW! Apply pressure to any wound you can. I will be there shortly." The warriors do as they're told, their friends and family supporting their weak bodies. Anya's eyes close and flutter. "Shit. Anya, look at me." She turns to a man. "Go get as many of the three containers on the top shelf, they are mark with red, blue and black markings."
The scrawny man she had order looks at her with disdain. "No." Others stop what they are doing.
"Excuse me?" Clarke stares at the man, full of anger and shock.
"No." He stands defiantly, back straightening as he gains confidence. "You are not our leader. You fell from the sky. I don't follow your orders."
Clarke stares at him, voice low and threatening. "I am her unioned and you will do as I say." Anya stands taller as she glares at the man.
"She is dying. Weak. I challenge her to lead." He stares at Clarke, eyes bright with malice.
Anya stands tall and Clarke shoves her to sit down. Everyone watches with rapt attention. "You fight, you die. You're already dying because of poison."
"I was challenged. I must fight or lose the respect of my people. I will lose my people and he will kill me and take you as he pleases." Anya's voice is rough as she struggles to stand.
"Then I will accept the challenge" Clarke speaks clearly. "When you are gone I am left in charge." Anya opens her mouth to argue but Clarke shakes her head. "You are fighting three different poisons and anyone else would be dead." Clarke turns defiantly to the man. "I accept your challenge as her unioned. I am next to lead if she cannot." The man grins as if he has already won. "Iruz, go get those three containers, boiling each one in a different pot with water. The color is the same as the poison. Give Anya all three teas, give the others the color of tea based on the color of poison okay?" He nods. "Link." The small boy turns to her. "Go get Lincoln and explain to him what is going on. Hurry." The boy takes off running and she turns to five warriors. "Go help him. Protect him from any reapers or rivals." They nod and leave without thought.
Anya grips her hand as Teran hold her elbow. "He will not hesitate to kill you." Brown eyes stare into blue.
Clarke swallows. "I know."
The man sneers at them. "What's wrong Anya, don't want your pet to die? If she is worthy she will defeat me." His smirk turns lecherous. "If not I get her."
Anya lunges forward, fist slamming into his face. His lips splits open and he stumbles. Two warriors hold him back as Teran holds Anya back. "If you touch her in any way I will kill you!" Tris, waits in the background, he eyes bright with hope, Anya was healing and her unioned was doing what was unexpected but so right in Tris' eyes.
Teran struggles to hold her back. "Anya, if you interfere he will kill you."
"He will kill her if I don't." Anya stares at the smaller woman as she steps in the circle of stones. They are surrounded by the other clan members. They look around. eyes finding Anya and looking back to Clarke. Some look proud to the two women, others look at the man in disgust.
Clarke rolls her shoulders as she waits for the man to make a move. He smirks. "We fight until one of us wins. Death or forfeit. Anything is allowed." He grins, teeth bared. "Except for outside help."
Clarke nods and her eyes find Anya's. Iruz was making the woman drink the three foul tasting liquids.
The man stalks around her and she watches his hips, doing what Anya had told her. Waiting for the bigger man to make a move. You either act with the element of surprise or wait for the larger opponent to move so you can counter them. He lunges at her, fist flying towards her face. She ducks under it and moves to the left. He follows, face wild, teeth bared. He moves to hit her again and she slips out of his reach again. She hears the gate open and her eyes find Bellamy's as he sits behind Link on horse, before pain explodes on her jaw. She backs away again, wiping at her bleeding lip. Bellamy rushes forward and Lincoln holds him back.
The five warriors cling to the others. They hold Raven, Finn and Bellamy back near Anya. Octavia stares at the fight with wide eyes. "What the hell is going on?! Let me GO!" Bellamy struggles against three warriors.
Anya doesn't take her eyes off the fight as she answer him. "He challenged me to fight to lead. Clarke accepted." Anya growls out as she glares at the fight. "If we interfere she is disgraced, the peace treaty broken. We can't interfere."
Clarke continues to move around him until his fist comes flying at her, fast. She lets it connect with her shoulder as she moves to the left, before bringing her left hand up and slamming it as hard as she can into his face. She stumbles back and he does the same. She can feel her arm bruising and she watches as he angrily wipes away at his bleeding nose.
He comes at her again, eyes blazing in fury. She keeps slipping around him, using her small size to slip away from his lumbering one. The man gets angrier and angrier. Anya grins. "Good girl."
Finn turns eyes to her. "What?"
"She's baiting him." Her eyes are bright with pride. "Waiting for him to make a mistake."
As those words leave Anya's mouth Clarke's legs strikes out and hits the man in his knee, the one he had been limping on. An old injury. He screams out and stumbles back. His eyes are crazed and he pants as he backs away from her. She follows after him, he dodges some of her punches before he grabs something from his waist. A silver blade gleaming in blue liquid. Clarke tries to slip away but the third strike catches her in the side. She gasps and she feels the hot burning of the blade. Her hand slams down into his wrist, jostling the knife out of his hold. She rips it out of her stomach letting it fall to the ground as she applies pressure to the wound. Anya fights against Teran's hold. Clarke rushes forward hands aiming for his face. He blocks them all and her foot meets with known accuracy as she kicks his knee out from under him. The grounder cheer loudly as she pulls him into a headlock.
He keeps the hold as he stumbles around, lack of oxygen making him stumble, black dots coating his vision until he slams her body into the ground. Her own weight presses on her and his hands find her wounded side, fingers digging into the bleeding flesh. She screams out and he stumbles to his feet and kicks her in the side before picking her up by her throat. He rams her into a tree, eyes blazing as he pulls back and slams her into it again. Her hands grip his forearm as she tries to find purchase. She struggles to breath and her vision blurs before she pulls her palm back and brings it up to crash into his nose. He lets out a shout as it breaks. Blood spurts from it as she stumbles to her knees. She finds a tree branch, thick enough to cause damage. Bo staff like. "Stop and I won't hurt you anymore." She pants out. He laughs teeth bloodied as he runs towards her. She cracks his knee with the branch and as he stumbles she slams it into his head. She hears the crack of the branch as it snaps across his head. The wood splinters and he falls unconscious. The rest if the clan waits with baited breath and Anya watches the man breathing until Iruz lets out a triumphant shout. The rest of the grounder scream and cheer.
Clarke stumbles over towards Anya and her people. Raven reaches out to catch her and Anya's nails dig into the girl's arm. "Don't. They will see her as weak." Raven's brown eyes find Anya's face as Clarke makes her way over to them. Nails grip Raven's arm until Clarke makes it to them. The second the blonde is there Anya seems to relax. Bellamy grips Clarke's shoulder to give her balance. "Nice going Princess." She grunts and looks to the older blonde. Anya's body wasn't sweating and her color was coming back. The antidote was working.
Anya's eyes find Clarke's. They stare at each other for a moment before Anya speaks. "Put him on the cross for daring to think he hurt what is mine." She steps forward, hand slipping to Clarke's lower back, fingers finding the blood dripping from Clarke's wound. "Come, the healers tent is open. Lincoln will help you."
Clarke grins as she and Anya walk to the healers tent. "Guess we do need more than one healer here. Told you." Anya rolls her eyes.
Lincoln finishes stitching her side after Anya forces a cup of tea into her hand. "He used poison, that is a cowards way." She glowers at the tent flap. Brown eyes meet blue and Lincoln looks between them before leaving. Octavia greets him outside and he shakes his head at her silent question. She rolls her eyes as she walks over to tell Bellamy that they couldn't see her yet. Anya steps forward, wrapping the wound. "You fought well." Clarke laughs. Fingers finish with the bandage. "You did not have to fight, but you did. You did well. Proved yourself to our people." Lips twitch and Clarke smirks.
"Maybe now they'll stop looking at me like I don't belong."
"You proved yourself." Anya leans against the cot. "They respect you now. They will follow you if I die."
Clarke furrows her eyebrows. "But you're not going to die."
Anya rolls her shoulder, fingers brushing her own bandages. "Today was close. Too close. I am glad our people will have a strong leader."
Clarke stands and steps closer to the woman. "You won't die." Anya tilts her head to the side. "Too many people have died already, you won't."
"The world is not kind. One day we will die." Anya speaks flippantly.
"That day isn't coming anytime soon."
Anya stands, face passive. "But it will and until then I will kill as many reapers as I can. They are a threat to our people."
Clarke runs her fingers through her hair before standing tall, face determined. "You need a few days rest, your injuries and fight with poiso-"
Anya interrupts her, voice stern. "Will not keep me from leading my people. I am strong and they believe in that. Come, we need to talk with your people."
They walk outside and Clarke is smothered in a hug between Octavia and Raven. "Way to scare the shit outta people Princess. One would think you had a death wish." Raven shoves against Clarke's shoulder as she speak. Clarke throws her head back and laughs.
Bellamy smirks at her. "Good to see you can stand Princess." Anya remains close to Clarke, eyes watching over the young woman. "We've gotta get back to camp, left in a bit of a hurry." He steps forward and slings his arm around her shoulder, squeezing before letting go. "You guys go ahead, I need to speak with Clarke really quick."
Finn smiles at Clarke. "I'm glad your okay." She tentatively smiles back at him, maybe they could go back to being friends. Not yet, he broke her heart and she hadn't yet forgiven him.
They leave and Anya tilts her head to the side. Bellamy nods. "I'm going back to look for more guns. The arc said there should be another bunker with guns. We need reinforcements with the Reapers becoming more bold." His eyes blaze. "I won't lose any more people."
"Bellamy, take people with you. Don't go alone." Clarke voice of reason is undeniable.
"I can't leave the camp unattended, it needs as many guards as possible." Voice grruff as he ducks his head to speak to the shorter woman.
She steps forward, eyes blazing. "I should go with you."
He shakes his head. "No, I need you here. If something happens then you need to be alive. You're their other leader."
She clenches her jaw and stares at him. "We promised to do things together."
"I know, and we are. We are looking out for the camps best interest. I'm going to take Doug with me. He's a great shot and I'll leave Miller and Octavia in charge."
"You need to be careful. They are getting bold." Anya voice is full of warning.
Bellamy smirks. "Always am, take care of Clarke for me." He winks. "She's a bit to handle, I know."
Anya stares at him without speaking and he laughs before leaving. "He will be fine. We need to set up fortifications and train another healer." Her eyes find Clarke's. "Iruz's mother is good with herbs. Begin with her. I need to find Tris and go over battle plans with her."
Clarke grabs her arm. "Anya?" Anya tilts her head to the side. "Just, if Bellamy finds more guns you're going to need to learn how to shoot aren't you?"
"It is just like shooting a bow right?"
Clarke shrugs. "I have no idea, I've never shot a bow. But it is easy enough, it shouldn't take to long to get you shooting straight."
"Good, I will train you on a bow as well. I have until sunset before I must speak with Tris."
Clarke grins . "Let's get to it then."
They stand outside of camp, a mile or two, the war horse is tied to a tree, his eyes blazing as he glares at the humans. Anya said he didn't mind loud noises. Clarke hands Anya the gun. "Okay put this against your shoulder." She adjusts Anya's hands "Relax your shoulder. Okay, aim by looking right through here and then pull your finger back."
Anya does as she's told, shoulder rocking back gently. She scowls when it doesn't hit her target. "I missed." Her voice is disbelieving and slightly petulant.
"Try again, this time calm down and aim. Its a gun not a bow." Anya does again and hits there target, a red cloth stuck into the tree. She scowls and aims again, Clarke's hand rests on her shoulder, pushing down slightly to adjust her hold. She fires again and hits the mark, a smirk spreads across her face before she wipes it clean.
She hands the gun to Clarke. "Time for your bow training." She hands clarke the bow. "Test it in your hand first. Get the weight of it down, you must know your weapon as if it is a piece of you." Clarke slides her hands along it before getting into position. "Use two fingers to pull on the string. Don't release unless you have an arrow on it." Clarke notches an arrow. "Your line of sight is right at your target. Eye focused and arrow below eye. Good." She adjust Clarke's limbs, spreading her legs wider, lower her right arm and moving her left higher. "Rest your fingers on your cheek as you pull back." Clarke's arm shakes. "You are not as strong as I am so this bow is not meant for you but we can work with it." Anya stands behind Clarke barely a breath away as she looks over to be sure she has the right form. She nods. "Release." Her breath floats across Clarke's neck and the girl jumps. The arrow flies and embeds itself in the ground. Anya tilts her head before chuckling softly. Clarke turns to look at her. She had never heard an honest chuckle out of the woman until today. Why was that? "Again, try to hit the target." Anya's voice is stern but holds teasing.
One week later
"Anya!" Clarke chases after the woman before shoving some pouches in her hand. "Antidote, you guys need to start carrying it around. Mix three drops into water and give it to them when they're hit." Anya clasps Clarke's forearm. "Be careful out there."
"I am always cautious." Anya speaks lowly before her eyes find Clarke's she looks conflicted. "Stay on guard. They may attack here." Brown eyes search Clarke's face before turning abruptly and leading her warriors away. Tris grins at Clarke, saluting Anya's union with a small smirk before following after the older woman.
Clarke paces camp, it was hours past dusk and they should have been back by now. Bellamy hadn't found guns yet so they were still running low on ammo. She clutches hers tightly continuing to pace when the gates open. Anya comes in, carrying something. Her face is furious and she is covered in blood. Clarke feels her heart racing, catching in her throat. Something was wrong, she could she it in Anya's eyes. She takes in the person in her arms. "Tris." The girl who had smiled at her hours before was bleeding in Anya's arms. "Get her to my tent." They race to the med tent and Clarke gets to work. She works furiously to stop the bleeding in her abdomen when she hears the girl panting and wheezing. Her hands shake before she steadies them and grabs a tube and scalpel. Anya watches her with calculating eyes. Trusting eyes and something in Clarke breaks, they need real medicine, She punctures the girl's side and breathes in relief when her wheezing stops.
Her fingers moves over the girl as she checks for other injuries. She stitches up other wound and Anya hands her two cups of tea, she forces them down the girls throat. The girl struggles and coughs at the taste. "I know Tris, I know. Just stay with me okay?" The girl nods weakly. "What hurts?"
The girl motions to her head before she turns and vomits off the side of the cot. Blood coats it and Clarke wants to scream. Her fingers brush back Tris' hair as she cleans her face off before cleaning her ear. Blood trickles out of it. Clarke closes her eyes as she runs through possibilities. "Was she unconscious at all?"
"Yes, while we walked here, she woke up. Another had struck her on the head and then rammed her head into a tree." Anya voice is barely controlled as it brims with anger.
Tris vomited again and Clarke opened her eyes to look at the pupil. The left was larger than the right. "Tris can you tell me what happened?"
The girl opens her mouth and her words come out mumbles and slurred."Figgh Nort Cleean."
Clarke's lips tremble as she pats back her hair before she begins to have a seizure. Clarke holds her down. The girl continues to shake and trash as Anya's body trembles as she helps Clarke hold the girl down before suddenly her body stills. Clarke feels for a pulse and her eyes water as she brushes dirty locks out of the girls face. She grabs a sheet from the foot of the cot.
Anya watches as Clarke covered the girl with a sheet. Her eyes are fractured and glassy. "I'm so sorry Anya. I did everything. She, the wounds were worse than they seemed." She swallows as she watches Anya stare at the girl under the sheet. She reaches forward, cutting off one of Tris' braids before turning abruptly. Clarke chases after her and calls for her. "Anya! Anya where are you going?" She grabs her elbow to hold her back once they get to the gate.
Brown eyes blaze as she turns to face Clare. She looks devastated and pissed. "I'm going to kill those that killed my second."
She knew they wouldn't leave survivors at the battle field. "Anya, they are dead, you killed them." Anya would never let someone live once they hurt her second.
"Then I will kill their families! I will murder the whole village." Her voice raise and grows every deadlier before cracking on the next words. The camp seems to be empty, everyone in their tents recovering or mourning. "She's dead. My second. My sister is dead."
Clarke's heart seems to break. "Oh Anya." Clarke pulls the warrior into their tent. Then pulls her into a hug.
Anya's arms remain limp by her side. "Warriors do not hug." Her voice is low.
Clarke just holds her tighter. "It is fine to hug and cry." Her throat tightens as she realizes that maybe Anya had never been hugged or comforted before.
"Warriors do not cry they are strong." Her hands tremble as they slip up Clarke's hips to rest there.
Clarke pulls the woman in tighter, remembering when her dad died. She had sobbed into her mom. "Tears don't mean you are weak, it means you are strong enough to admit you are hurting inside."
The older woman arms slide further around her lower back to cling to Clarke. "My warriors can't know. They would find me weak." Her voice is low and broken as if she had lost everything.
"They wont. This is between us Anya." Her hands hold the woman tightly against her.
Her body is tense as she rests it against Clarke. "She was my sister, she was meant to led her own troop or village she was strong and she is gone." Her voice is almost desolate. Unrecognizable from her normal hard tone.
Clarke holds her tight, she can feel the anguish, sense it in her unioned yet Anya doesn't cry. She just rest in Clarke's arms, breathing deeply. "Tell me about her? I've only met her a few times.
She feels Anya's body stiffen. "She was strong." Anya tilts her head into Clarke's throat. "But compassionate. It is not common for our people to be that way. She would have made a fine leader. They listened to her, she listened to them. They would follow her anywhere. She was strong. A true warrior."
"Tell me about your sister Anya, not her as a leader or warrior but as your sister. How did you grow up together?"
"Warriors are all we will ever be, we were bred to be warriors." Anya's voice is hard but then her eyes soften. "She loves horses. She could befriend the wildest of stallions." Anya's voice has a far away quality, different than when she previously speaks. "She hated trapping animals. Compassionate. Father hated that about her so I took the attention from her. I led my people when I was fifteen. My father was proud. He died shortly after. She was fourteen summers. I am twenty-three winters, our age difference wasn't uncommon. She was always very odd when she was younger. Father disliked her. Said she was too soft so I helped her become strong." The woman will not move her eyes from Clarke's neck as she murmurs the words into Clarke's shoulder. "She hated meat, never would touch it. She would jump on my back as a child. Try to bring me down. I never paid attention. I told her to stop being childish. It would get her killed." She can hear the despair and guilt in her voice. "But I killed her. I made her a warrior and she died!"
"Anya." Clarke pulls the woman's face up, can see the forming of tears but she knows they won't fall. They had come a long way for Clarke to see her like this. "She died because a rival Clan killed her. It was not your fault it was theirs." She brushes fingers across the older woman's cheek bones. "You are not to blame." She sighs lowly. "But we need to bury her and the other warriors." Anya slips her cheek against Clarke's hand before standing up and nodding.
Clarke stands with her. "They will be remembered." Anya leaves the tent and directs her people. The children cry for their lost parents, yet they stop when they see her. Sniffling. Clarke comes to stand by her side and Anya swallows, looking around her camp. They all tried to hide their tears. "We lost great warriors today." Her brown eyes find Clarke's. "But they were also brothers, sisters, mother, fathers. We will bury them and celebrate the lives they lived. Their murderers are dead." They continue to stare at one another, Anya bleeding, surround by her grieving people and Clarke standing outside their tent covered in blood.
