ClarkeShe couldn't be sure how many days had passed because there was no window in her cell. She knew she was underground because she'd been taken down some stairs when she'd first arrived, but she'd been barely conscious then, and could remember very little else about her journey to the Ice Nation.
Once the anesthetic they'd given her had worn off, Clarke had made a careful inventory of her cell. It didn't take long- other than a bed of straw in the corner, a clay pot that she imagined was meant to be a latrine, and a ratty blanket, and there was nothing else in the room. She found no sharp objects to use as neither a weapon, nor anything that gave any indication of where she was.
It was dark and cold, and the only light came from makeshift oil lamps that burned in the recesses of the walls outside her cell, which shone through a small slot just big enough to fit her hands. Looking through that gap gave her no useful information. The scariest part was that she could see fingernail scratches on the stone floor, leading towards the door- Clarke wondered how much time had passed since this cell's last occupant was dragged out against their will.
It seemed like forever before someone came to get her, and by then she was weak and exhausted from hunger and thirst. The man and woman who had come to escort her weren't unlike other Grounders she'd seen, but they were dressed much more warmly and their tattoos seemed slightly different in both colour and style. Neither of them spoke to her, they just nodded towards her, indicating that she should follow. Clarke knew she had no choice.
She was led out of her cell, back up the stairs, and down a few long corridors before being taken into a large and beautiful room. It was long and narrow, with high ceilings. There were big windows on both walls, but they were dark and only then did Clarke know it was night. There were several large fireplaces set in the walls on both sides, lit with roaring fires that created both heat and light. Clarke could see a dais at the other end of the room, with what could only be described as a throne set up on it. She could see a woman sitting there, waiting for her, and she couldn't help but think of Lexa in her tent. This was just a more extravagant version of the same thing.
Slowly she approached the platform, trying to keep her face calm even as she felt her heart pounding in her chest. All she could think about was the story Lexa had told her, about Costia and what this queen had done to her, an innocent girl who had committed no crime.
As she got closer she could see that the queen deserved her title- she was regal, wearing a long gown made of fabric that Clarke had never seen on a Grounder before, silky and shiny, so that the queen glimmered when she moved. Clarke imagined that she would look particularly glittery when walking in the snow, which was probably the point. She was also wearing a headdress made of feathers and the antlers of a young deer, not large enough to weigh her head down but still imposing. Her hair was black, long, and straight, the front of it braided and the rest left to hang down her back. Her eyes were so dark they almost looked black as well, and her features were delicate, her posture perfect. She held her chin high, and her expression was impossible to read. She was older than Lexa, but still seemed young for the position she occupied.
When Clarke reached the foot of the dais she had no idea what to do, but before she could think to do anything, her escorts put their hands on her shoulders and forced her to her knees. Clarke bowed her head, grateful for the moment to gather her thoughts, and then the hands were removed from her shoulder and she took the invitation to stand up again.
Nervously she asked, "Do you speak English?"
The queen seemed to bristle momentarily, but she gave a small nod. "If I must."
"Do not ask her any direct questions," Clarke's female escort hissed.
"Sorry," she answered. "I've never met a queen before."
"I am Elody of the Ice Nation," the queen declared, pulling her attention back. "You are Clarke of the Sky People. Your people are allied with the eleven clans, led by Lexa of the Tree People."
There was a pause, and Clarke figured she was supposed to respond, "We were allied with Lexa, until recently," she corrected in a way that she hoped was polite. She noted that Elody said 'eleven clans,' not twelve.
The queen spoke to one of her men quickly in Trigedasleng, and he responded, but Clarke had no idea what they were saying. When Elody looked back to her, she seemed angry. "I have been told that you made an alliance with Trikru and the other clans in order to defeat the mountain."
"That's right," Clarke said carefully. "But as I understood it, the Ice Nation was one of those clans."
"And yet I was not informed of this new alliance," the queen countered.
"It happened very quickly," Clarke said. "I'm sure Lexa meant no disrespect."
"Of course you would say that."
Clarke frowned a little and tried to figure out how to respond to that. Finally she settled for, "I don't know what you mean, exactly."
"I'm told that Lexa took you into her confidence very quickly," Elody explained. "I'm told that you were given her explicit protection, that she killed some of her own people in order to protect you, and that she allowed you, an outsider, to complete a death ritual following a massacre committed by a Sky Person."
"Yes," Clarke said. "That's all true. But-"
"Lexa is a careful commander," the queen interrupted. "Her treaty with you was clearly more than tactical. She would only behave the way that she has if you were her lover rather than simply her ally."
Clarke felt her face flaming. "I assure you, that isn't the case," she said.
Elody's face suddenly darkened. "You would lie to my face?"
"I'm not lying," Clarke answered quickly. "Lexa betrayed me. Me and my people"
"And yet the mountain has fallen," the queen replied, clearly not believing her.
"No thanks to her," Clarke replied bitterly.
"So you are saying that you had no help from the clans? That you destroyed the mountain that has been plaguing our people for a hundred years, single-handedly?"
"No. Not single-handedly. It was a team effort… but Lexa wasn't involved. She made her choice."
"But before that," Elody insisted. "You were her lover."
"That's none of your business," Clarke snapped. "What do you want from me?" Instantly her escorts were back on her, forcing her to her knees again.
"You must beg forgiveness for disrespecting the queen," one growled at her.
Clarke tried to fight to her feet but she was held in place. She said nothing.
"What I want from you, Clarke of the Sky People, is information," Elody answered, her voice edged with anger. "I want to know what you know about Lexa, about the coalition."
"I don't understand," Clarke said. "You're her ally… ask her."
"We are not allies anymore," Elody replied with a shake of her head. "Lexa disrespects the Ice Nation by keeping us in the dark again and again. We were never fully dedicated to the alliance, but we remained a part of it while it suited us. That time has now passed."
"So what, then?" Clarke asked with surprise. "You're going to declare war on the other eleven clans?"
"Do not question the queen!" her male escort growled. He ripped Clarke's head up by her hair and backhanded her so hard that Clarke saw stars.
"You must learn respect," Elody said calmly. "And you must learn your place. If you cooperate, if you tell me what it is I want to know, then you can go home. And if you will not speak, then we will use our ways to force you to tell us what it is we want to know. And then you will die."
"Just like you did with Costia," Clarke said, remembering at the last second to frame it as a statement and not a question.
The queen ignored that, nodding to her escorts and speaking again in Trigedasleng. Clarke was pulled back to her feet and then Elody reverted to English and said, "Because you have answered my questions today, you may have food and drink, and if you continue to answer me, then you will continue to be treated well."
Clarke wanted to challenge her definition of 'well,' but she held her tongue as Elody continued, "But if you do not, I have men and women skilled in causing immense pain. It is your choice whether you are a prisoner or a guest here, Clarke. I will give you the night to consider your options, and then we will have breakfast together."
Before Clarke could answer to that either way, she was hustled out of Elody' chamber and through the corridors, down the stairs, and back to her cell. "My people will come for me," she told her escorts, though she doubted they even knew where she was or even that she was in trouble. She knew that was no one's fault but her own.
"Then they, too, will die," the female escort answered her shortly. "Long before they ever reach you."
Clarke was thrown into the cell and the heavy door was locked behind her. She listened to the footsteps trail away as she forced herself to keep her breathing calm, trying not to panic. She turned away from the door and was surprised to see a tray of food and a cup of water waiting for her. She remembered Mount Weather, how she had refused their food at first, and a big part of her wanted to do the same now, but she was so hungry and it smelled delicious, and she knew that if they were really after information than poisoning her would do no good.
Sitting down on the straw, Clarke began eating, going over in her mind what she should do. Part of her wanted to just do as the queen asked, tell her everything and anything she wanted to know about the Commander and the clans- after all, Clarke had been betrayed so badly, why should she protect Lexa? But even as she had that thought she knew she couldn't do that. Her feelings for Lexa might have soured following the deal that had been made outside the door to Mount Weather, but that didn't mean she would help the queen to cause pain and suffering to eleven clans of people. Besides, Clarke's own people could be affected too, since they would no longer have any protection under the coalition.
Clarke knew she would have to be strong, have to keep a firm resolve. After she finished eating, she lay down in the straw and closed her eyes. She dreamt of Lexa, of Costia, of Bellamy and Mount Weather. She imagined her own head, cut off and mounted on a pike, dripping bright red blood into the snow.
