The Forest was quiet and calm in comparison to what Bellamy felt on the inside, a torrent of emotions. Every so often he would glance over at Clarke and see the fierce look of determination on her face, her squared shoulders and confident stride. He admired her. He admired her strength in a time of uncertainty.

They were headed towards the nearest sigil fire on the far side of the valley. It was about a day's walk from camp. Octavia had told them that was where the Grounder camp was; Lincoln had presumably told her. She was worried about him leaving, but he assured her he would be alright with Clarke by his side. Octavia had smiled and hugged him tightly. Out here, one was never sure when the next time one would see another again.

They had been walking for almost an entire day now and were only minutes away from the camp. The sun had dipped behind the mountains only an hour before. Bellamy was getting anxious. He could feel eyes and arrows pointed at his back. Clarke was becoming restless as well. A twig snapped close by, than another and another. Both Clarke and Bellamy froze. He drew out his gun, his finger ready to shoot. He motioned for Clarke to do the same.

"Put down your weapons." A voice rang from somewhere in the tree canopy, loud and strong. It was a female voice.

"Why don't you come out?" Bellamy asked, gun pointed up into the trees. "We'll negotiate."

Laughter was heard all around them. It unnerved Clarke and Bellamy, they didn't know where to aim, where to shoot or what to shoot.

"Negotiate? With you? I'm not stupid," she chuckled. "I know how you humans negotiate, with guns and talks of peace."

"Bellamy," Clarke whispered. "Put your gun down." she gazed at him, her eyes reassuring. She placed a hand over his.

"It will be alright." she said. His eyes searched hers and slowly he lowered his gun.

"Take them." commanded the female Grounder. All around them beast-like men leapt down from the trees, surrounding the pair. Their guns were immediately confiscated and a figure appeared before them, the female Grounder, Anya. Her eyes were as black as charcoal and war paint covered her face like a mask. She strode towards them, circling them, a cat stalking her prey. Her men stood at attention some distance behind her. Anya looked Bellamy and Clarke up and down coming to stand before Bellamy. She grabbed his chin and turned his head side to side.

"Well, aren't you just a beautiful thing," she said matter-of-factly. "I wasn't expecting you." Bellamy's shoulders tensed but he said nothing. Anya tsked. She dropped her hand and moved to Clarke who stared defiantly at the Grounder.

"And here is our new healer, Clarke Griffin," she said pronouncing her name slowly and with emphasis. "The winged lioness." Anya took a step back to study her.

"Yes, I suppose you'll do." she took a step forwards and grabbed a fistful of Clarke's hair, smelling it. Bellamy heard Clarke gasp, but his hands remained at his side; they had no use for him and would not hesitate to put a spear in his back. "She is pure is she not?" Anya turned towards Bellamy, "She has not been taken by any man?"

Bellamy's face contorted. "How should I know who Clarke does or doesn't sleep with?" he spat and shot a questioning look to Clarke.

Clarke squirmed. She had slept with Finn; Finn had taken the most precious thing from her, her innocence. Bellamy of course didn't know this and she didn't want him too. However, if it would save their lives…

"No, no I'm not pure, I'm not a virgin." Clarke blurted. Bellamy froze and looked at her, a funny expression on his face. She looked away, embarrassed. Anya snorted.

"No, no you are still pure, child." The Grounder assured. She ran a finger down her cheek. "You have no proof, no child," Anya touched Clarke's stomach. "You have not created life."

Bellamy came to stand in front of Clarke, cutting her off from Anya.

"That's enough!" he barked. "We came here to negotiate, not to arrange marriage." Anya smiled.

"Your word has no jurisdiction in my territory, human. Take them to camp." she waved to her men and as Anya left they swarmed them, separating them.

"Bellamy!" Clarke screamed. She heard a disgruntled reply; they had gagged him just as they began to gag and blindfold her. She kicked and screamed, but they were strong and had her in a vice-like grip. Her knees buckled and she was thrown over someone's back. She knew nothing else.

. . .

"Get up!" someone ordered, kicking Clarke in the side. She moaned and felt herself being hauled onto her feet. Her blindfold was torn off and light scorched her eyes. She blinked several times and quickly became aware of her surroundings. She was in a tent. Furs covered the entire ground and animal heads hung from the walls. Animals she didn't recognize. A strategic table sat in the middle of the room, covered with figurines and buildings. She didn't have time to study it though because she calculating ways to escape. There were four Grounders in the room. One was holding her hands behind her back and the other three were at the other end of the table, watching. One was sitting in a huge chair adorned with antlers and furs. He was more lavishly dressed than the others and with less war paint.

"Where's Bellamy?" she demanded when she realized he was not with her.

"Don't worry, he is safe as long as we have you corporation," replied the seated Grounder calmly. "Excuse my men, they do not know how to treat a lady." he motioned to the Grounder holding her and he roughly took her by the shoulder and sat her next to the one who was speaking. Clarke shrugged him off as she sat down. The man to her left contemplated her appearance.

"Pretty young thing," he said to no one. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Graul of the Valley Tribe, second in command to Anya and brother." Clarke said nothing, instead she studied his scarred face and neck. It distorted his features and, in attempt to cover his deformities, had grown his hair out to his shoulders. In some ways he looked like Anya, it was hard to tell though. He spoke with a certain eloquence, an eloquence that the other Grounders did not have and it made Clarke suspicious. Anya, while well-spoken, was not to the level of her brother, if he was truly who he claimed to be.

"Where are the survivors?" she asked. Graul looked over at her, a disdainful look in his hollow eyes.

"Your people? Why, they are alive, what is left of them anyways. Many have died, but there are a few survivors. They are being treated at a different location." he said nonchalantly.

Clarke burst out of her seat, enraged.

"I was told they would be here, safe!" she yelled before a Grounder shoved her back down in her seat and held her there.

"My, my you simply have no manners do you?" Graul chastised. "I do hope your friend is still alive…my men can get a bit— carried away sometimes."

"He's dying." Clarke said flatly.

"What a shame." Graul replied.

"A real shame." she said bitterly. She was growing tired of all his formalities. Clearly, he was someone who held a lot of power. She needed to be careful what she said and did.

"What do you want for the freedom of my people and for Bellamy?" she asked.

"A union," he said. "Between you and one of Anya's men."

"I know that," Clarke snapped. "But to who and why?"

"Rather direct aren't you?"

"Shut up you bastard! I've had enough of your games. I want to know why I'm here." she had completely lost it and stood, slamming her hands down on the table. Graul, too, rose out of his chair no longer in a mood to chat. His face contorted into something very evil and very vicious, but Clarke refused to shrink back.

"You will treat me with respect, little human," he growled. "You are here because of my sister's bidding. You are here because of our need for a healer. And, more importantly, you are here because of my need for a successor." Graul came to stand beside her. Looming over her, he bent down so that his hot breath was right next to her cheek. He gently stroked the hair away from her face. Clarke cringed as his hand traveled the length of her body. She couldn't move, she was paralyzed with fear.

"Child, you will bring a different kind of unity to our people. You are untainted, pure, everything my tribe requires for the Tribal Union. I will see you tomorrow." Graul whispered and she was led out of the tent.