Clarke had found herself enjoying the mornings, or at least the mornings where she woke early enough to see what she saw. And she found herself feeling a sense of anticipation begin to build, she found herself feeling the smallest sliver of something different begin to take hold in the very recesses of her body.
Clarke sat at the furthest edge of the flame's reach, the fire that burned throughout the night a little more warm, a little more fierce than the fires either Jessa or herself had ever been able to usher into life.
Clarke wasn't entirely sure why she had woken this early, she wasn't entirely sure what had made her eyes wake to the still dark sky and to the still silent lands, but she had a suspicion, she had a thought and a feeling.
And so she found herself looking out over the lands, each small rocky outcrop that dotted the reddened yellow plains merely a giant's footprint that journeyed aimlessly, that stepped where it wished.
And she thought it beautiful, she thought it calming, she thought it magnificent in its size and its vastness.
But too, she found it sad, she found it lonely, unsure and uncertain of what it wanted to be, of what it wished could exist.
And Clarke had woken early, she had found herself rising as quietly as she could and she had found herself moving as far from the heat before she felt the cold begin to touch her exposed flesh, and she had taken a seat on the ground and she had turned her face to where the sun would rise.
And so she had waited.
She waited for as long as it would take for the sun to grace the horizon, for as long as it would take to let its light bathe the lands in the colours of a new day.
And she had thought she had been quiet, she thought she had not woken another.
But she heard quiet footsteps break the silence, she heard a small yawn break past tired lips and she heard the pause in gait for only a moment before a warm body sat beside her.
"You should still be asleep," Clarke said quietly, and she looked from the horizon and to Jessa who sat next to her.
"I could not sleep," the girl answered, their gazes meeting for a moment.
"Me too," Clarke said, and she smiled as Jessa's nose scrunched in annoyance as a small hair tickeled her cheek from where it had escaped her braid.
They both fell silent then, and Clarke found herself looking back out to the horizon. And she found herself content, she found herself enjoying the quiet, the company, the silence that had settled upon them both. And perhaps she wasn't entirely sure what it was that seemed to settle upon her shoulders, she wasn't even sure she knew how to think of it, or even how she could go about voicing her thoughts.
But she knew an idea had begun to form in her mind, she knew a chance had opened itself to her and she knew that perhaps what had been offered was what she had been looking for since she had turned her back on Bellamy, on Camp Jaha.
And so the sun broken over the horizon at the same time that Clarke found herself smiling, and perhaps it was a sign, perhaps it was coincidence, and perhaps it was simply chance.
"They're giving us a choice, Jessa," Clarke said, and she felt Jessa look up at her from where the girl sat by her side. "We can leave, we can decide to turn away, to continue to go wherever we want," and Clarke smiled just a little at the way the sun's rays seemed to stretch out over the plains before her, as they began to cast morning shadows over the rocky outcrops that dotted the lands, and as they began to set the morning's haze aflame with a light and a blaze that blurred the lands with a brilliance Clarke thought amazing.
"We could go with them," and Clarke remembered the short conversation they had had the previous night, of the offer to trade whatever they thought was fair. "We could go to their village, trade with them what we need and then go our own way," and Clarke pulled her gaze from the horizon and she looked down to Jessa who met her gaze with a quiet and an understanding that seemed older than the youth that clung to her face.
"Or we could stay," Jessa said, and Clarke found herself smiling as the girl nodded to herself, as she let her own words sink in, as she let her own thoughts and worries and demons take place within her mind.
"Or we could stay."
And Clarke saw an understanding behind Jessa's eyes.
"Or we could stay," and Clarke couldn't help but bump her shoulder against Jessa, she couldn't help but to think of what could come to pass if the choice was made. "For however long they'll have us," and Clarke didn't quite know how to put into words what she felt, but perhaps not knowing was enough, perhaps not having any more responsibility than simply living, than moving forward with each new day was enough for her tired mind.
And perhaps it was what she needed.
And perhaps, too, as she looked at Jessa, as she watched the girl think, as she watched the girl look out to the horizon and take in the aflame lands, she thought that maybe, just maybe, Jessa needed the same.
Clarke and Jessa sat at the edge of the camp as the sun continued to rise and settle lowly in the sky. After some time she heard the sounds of Tenebediah and the other scouts waking, she heard the whispered words that tried not to disturb, and she heard the rustle of leathers and furs and clothes and things being prepared for the morning, even the sounds of horses neighing in the settling winter cold.
Clarke looked over her shoulder as she heard the approach of feet and she saw Tenebediah moving their way, two bowls in her hands, steam rising from the contents and her gaze just a little guarded and careful in the still piercing light of a rising sun.
"You did not sleep," Tenebediah said, and Clarke smiled awkwardly as she reached forward and took both the offered bowls, one passed to Jessa quickly.
"Yeah," and Clarke whispered a word of thanks as she took in the dreadlocks that wove their way through Tenebediah's hair, the way she squinted just a little in the sun and the way her clothes seemed to bleed into the orange light of the sun.
But Clarke's gaze moved past Tenebediah and to the scouts, two already mounting their horses as they guided them away from the flame to leave just one other by the campsite.
"Where are they going?" Clarke asked, and she saw Tenebediah look over her shoulder.
"To our village," she answered, "they will ride ahead and tell them to expect company," but at Tenebediah's words, Clarke saw the woman pause, an uncertainty beginning to take place in her eyes.
"We have nowhere to call home," Clarke said as she stood and as she held the warm bowl in her hands. And she didn't quite know just how to say that she wished to at least see what life was like in Tenebediah's village, she didn't know how to broach such a topic, but from the way the woman smiled a little more freely, from the way she nodded and looked down to Jessa who seemed content to sit and eat, Clarke thought the woman understood.
"We have room," Tenebediah said as she motioned for Clarke to follow her, "but everyone must provide for the village," and Clarke nodded her own understanding that whatever accomodation that was offered did not come freely.
"I understand," Clarke said as she looked back to Jessa to see the girl look out to the horizon for just another moment before scuffling to her feet and quickly falling into step beside them both.
And Clarke couldn't help but wonder still, that her being a member of Skaikru played a part in Tenebediah's offer, whether tech was expected, sought after, wished for.
"We do not care what your past may be," Tenebediah said, and Clarke couldn't help but to smile at the woman's words that echoed their previous conversation.
"You said that before," and Clarke wasn't so sure why she felt at ease, why she felt just a little less tense and wary than she thought she should have.
And perhaps it was because she thought it no secret that Tenebediah and the others knew who she was, or had guessed, but that her identity didn't quite matter to them.
At least for now.
"And it was and will continue to be the truth," Tenebediah said, and Clarke saw her gesture to the man who knelt by a pile of sleeping furs, some already rolled, some still loose, one halfway packed. "This is Jorda," and the dark skinned man rose, a hand running over his short curly hair for just a second as he scratched at an itch.
And so Jorda came to his feet, his wiry frame lithe and snakelike in its motions as he smiled for a moment before stretching his arm out to Clarke.
"Clarke," she offered before gesturing to Jessa, "Jessa," and perhaps she found it just a little rude that she hadn't thought of telling Tenebediah their names sooner.
But Clarke discarded the thought as she reached her own hand out cautiously before Jorda grasped her wrist.
"It is best if we leave soon," Jorda said as he squeezed once before releasing her wrist. "We can arrive at our village before nightfall."
And Clarke couldn't blame him for wanting to leave soon, if only because she, herself, had found that the nights had become increasingly colder.
"We can leave whenever," Clarke said and she looked down to Jessa for a second to see the girl nod her head in agreement, bowl to her lips as she drank some of the warm stew.
"But first, eat," Jorda said as he gestured to Clarke's own bowl in her hand. "There is time for that."
Shadows seemed a little shorter by the time Clarke found herself standing before one of two large horses that remained, and she looked to her side to see Jessa eyeing the closest one, her pack over her shoulder, hand resting on her hip, the knife and her small stuffed toy in their familiar place.
"You will ride with me," and Clarke saw Tenebediah smile for a moment as she finished tying her own packs to the side of her horse before gesturing for Clarke to approach. "Jessa will ride with Jorda," and Clarke saw Jessa shrug before stepping towards the other as Jorda knelt down, hands held out for Jessa to use to help her onto the horse.
But Clarke wasn't surprised when she saw Jessa try to pull herself onto the horse without help as Jorda seemed content to watch her with a smile as he humoured her attempt.
"How far is it to your village?" Clarke asked as she stepped back a pace as Tenebediah swung herself into the horse's saddle, one hand patting the horse's neck briefly.
"Perhaps almost a day's ride," Tenebediah answered as she looked up into the sky for a moment. "Now, up," and Tenebediah held her hand out for Clarke to take.
And Clarke couldn't help but to feel just a little unsure of how best to approach pulling herself onto the horse.
And she was sure the horse looked at her with a curiosity and an intrigue that seemed to be filled with just a little judgement.
But Clarke glanced once to Jessa to see the girl already settling into the saddle in front of Jorda who shifted back just a bit as he made a space for Jessa to sit comfortably.
"Put your foot here," Tenebediah said as she tapped a stirrup with her heel. "Use this to pull yourself up," she finished as she gestured to a loop on the side of the saddle made of thick leather.
And so Clarke grit her teeth, she tried not to wince too obviously at the pull in her shoulder and she forced herself into the saddle with a grunt and a groan. But Tenebediah's hand reached out and helped lift her into place with a strength that surprised Clarke, her hand gentle as it grasped her arm, and Clarke was sure the woman had sensed her pain, had sensed her discomfort in her motions.
"Thanks, Tenebediah," Clarke said as she found herself sitting atop the horse behind the woman, her braided dreadlocks fuzzy against her cheek.
"My friends call me Ten," and Clarke saw the woman look over her shoulder with a smile and a contentedness that seemed eager now that she sat atop a horse.
"Thanks," and Clarke took just a moment to consider the open hand Tenebediah seemed to offer in words. "Ten."
Clarke had always appreciated just how beautiful the plains she had walked through had been, but now, as she sat atop a horse, and as her legs didn't ache, and her feet didn't hurt with each little step, she felt that she could really take the time to look out into the distance, into the flashings of red and yellows and greens that raced passed.
Ten and Jorda had pushed their horses hard, the lands had flashed by and Clarke couldn't help but to smile into the press of Ten's hair as it whipped out behind her as the wind made it live freely. And Clarke found herself enjoying the sensations of speed, of drifting aimlessly, without little more to consider than simply holding onto what purchase she could find as Ten guided the horse with little taps, little twitches of a hand and little utterances that seemed to speak more to the horse than Clarke could fully grasp.
And she knew Jessa seemed to be enjoying the rapid pace that had been set, too, and as she once more looked to the girl who sat before Jorda, whose own horse seemed little worried by the rapid gallop it ran, Clarke could see the smile that had broken free.
And so Clarke let her eyes move to the horizon they raced towards, she let her gaze take in every shimmering haze in the distance, and she let her thoughts turn to futures and to days to come, and, too, she let the days she had lived, and the pasts she had survived flash by in a blur of red and yellow and green grasses and dirt and rocks until all she could see was a future where she hoped she wouldn't be faced with choices she never wanted to be given again.
It must have been a few hours past midday by the time Clarke saw the shimmering haze of water in the distance, and it surprised her by just how far they must have travelled, just how fast the horses they rode upon were.
And so Ten pulled lightly on the reins of her horse as they neared, and Clarke looked to see Jorda doing the same as he squinted out to the flowing river that snaked through the lands before them.
But sound caught Clarke's attention and she looked out to the river, to the sounds of the water flowing and trickling over pebble and stone, and she saw a large wood wagon, horses and a small group of people lingering by the water's edge, some sitting, some by a fire, others resting on the riverbed.
"Traders," Ten said as she sensed Clarke's gaze shift from wagon to horse to person before them.
And so they came to a pause not far from the traders, and Clarke saw a man look up from where he crouched by the riverbed, his hair slicked back, a scruffy beard covering his face, his nose beaklike and proud as he peered up at her with squinted curiosity.
Ten held the horse steady as Clarke dismounted, and she turned in time to see Jorda hold out his hands for Jessa only for the girl to ignore his offer with a scoff as she slid off its side with a stubborn awkwardness that Clarke was sure Jorda found just a little endearing from the glimmer in his eyes.
Ten landed on her feet then, gaze moving from the traders to Clarke for just a moment.
"We will rest here for a moment," Ten said. "Allow the horses to drink and to rest then we will continue," and Ten smiled before handing Jorda the reins of her horse as she untied a pack from her horse's side before moving towards the traders, her hand raising in greeting.
"What's she doing?" Clarke asked Jorda as she watched Ten pause in the open as she opened her pack and began to search in it.
"All who cross the plains survive with the help of others," Jorda answered as he came to stand beside Clarke, Jessa happy to chat away quietly to one of the horses. "Our lands may not be as harsh as others," but Jorda gestured out around them. "But still, it is important to care for others who may be in need," and Clarke turned back to Ten to see two of the traders approaching, the man she had first seen, whose gaze moved back to hers for a long moment, and a woman, half her face tattooed, one hand covered in a thick glove.
"Ten will see if they need anything," Jorda continued and Clarke looked back to the man to see him scratching at an itch at the corner of his eye for a moment. "Perhaps we will have something that they need, and perhaps they will have something that we need or that they would be willing to trade that is a fair exchange," and Jorda sighed as he began to tug on the horse's reins in the direction of the river. "It does not hurt to ask," he called over his shoulder with a smile.
"Plains Riders have great horses," and Clarke looked down to Jessa who eyed the traders and the horses they had.
"They do?" and Clarke wondered just how different the horses were.
"Yes," and Jessa sighed as she sat on the ground. "They are larger than the trader's horses," and Jessa gestured their way. "They ran faster than Trikru horses, too," and Clarke couldn't help but to smile at the envy she heard in Jessa's voice.
"Maybe they'll trade you one when we get to their village," and Clarke laughed as she saw Jessa seriously consider her words as her nose scrunched in thought and as she huffed away a loose strand of her hair, the messy braid she kept it in loosened to the wind and their rapid ride.
"Really?" Jessa asked, and Clarke sat down beside the girl as she stretched her own legs out.
"Maybe," and Clarke nudged Jessa's shoulder with her own.
"I would very much like my own horse," Jessa said, and Clarke watched as Jessa looked out to the horses Jorda stood by, both large beasts drinking heavily, a subtle steam rising from their resting bodies.
"Yeah," and Clarke couldn't help but to think it an enticing thought to be able to own her own horse, to be able to take it where she pleased, to have the freedom to go where she wished, and to feel the wind through her hair.
And she took a moment to consider just what lay in store for them both now that they seemed to have come to an unspoken agreement with Ten that they would stay at her village.
And Clarke couldn't quite shake the thought that maybe trading something was expected, and hadn't Ten said as much?
But yet, Clarke didn't quite feel a sense of dread, she didn't even feel a sense of turmoil.
And perhaps, as she continued to think over the situation, she thought she didn't feel those things if only because all she needed to do was trade what she thought was fair, with no judgement, with no more or no less responsibility than what she was willing to take.
And hadn't that been what Clarke searched for? Hadn't that been why she left?
To live without responsibility, without guilt? To be free of judgement for her actions, to be questioned and to have death hanging over her shoulders?
Perhaps Clarke found herself looking forward to the future.
If only because she thought all those things as something Ten had offered.
Clarke had never really spent long enough on a horse to really appreciate just how tiring it could be. But as the sun began its final descent in the sky, she couldn't help but to groan and grimace with each lurching motion of the horses, with each little shifting of muscle and with each galloping leap they took over the lands.
But Clarke found a relief flooding her body as she heard Ten call out to her that their village was close, that they would arrive soon and that rest and comfort would soon be upon them.
And so Clarke turned her eyes out to the horizon, and she squinted through the distance and she was sure she should have been able to at least see the faintest hints of a village given how flat the plains were. But, all she saw was the faintest of mountains in the great distance, that seemed to loom higher and higher and higher, whose peaks she thought must have been snow capped, that must have been cut to the elements, to the wind and snow.
But perhaps as suddenly as could be, Clarke felt Ten pull on the horse's reins, and she saw Jorda do the same, and at the same time Clarke was sure she heard the sounds of galloping rolling off the lands, she was sure she even heard the sounds of cries ringing out in the air, of shouts, of cheers and roars of laughter, even the distinct twang of an arrow being fired and the sounds of it finding its mark.
"What is that?" Jessa called out, and Clarke looked to the girl to see her standing in the stirrups, eyes trying to find the source of the noise.
"You will see," Jorda answered as he tugged on her leathers to seat her back in the saddle.
"Our warriors train at all times," Ten said over her shoulder, and Clarke met the woman's words with a nod of understanding, if only because she had seen the same in the Trikru warriors who seemed ever battered and bruised and ready for whatever conflict they anticipated.
But Clarke pushed those thoughts aside as Ten and Jorda urged their horses on gently, the beasts seemingly a little more eager for rest now that they sensed just how close they were to their destination.
But yet, as they continued forward slowly, Clarke couldn't quite understand where the noise was coming from, she couldn't even quite understand why they rode at such a slow pace through the open plains.
And as her thoughts seemed to swirl through her mind, as they seemed to reach a crescendo, her confusion was answered with a gasp and wide-eyed stare.
For the lands opened up for them seemingly out of nowhere.
The plains they rode upon dropped down suddenly into the largest of valleys Clarke had ever imagined, and at first glance Clarke thought it was as wide as it was deep, with its sides fading away into the distance in any direction she looked. The sheer, reddened grass swept plains dropped down almost vertically before spilling out into the valley that glinted with the sun's setting light, each beam bouncing off the shimmerings of a water source, of rivers that seemed to wend aimlessly, joyfully and independently from each other before forming a large lake in the greater distance, whose surface seemed to glow in the orange light.
Small clusterings of timid trees stood together in groups, too, each one's branches needlelike, but strong and determined as they reached up as high as they could into the sky, the leaves that dotted their branches charmingly small in shape.
Even the air that settled over the valley seemed awe-inspiring to Clarke, for the sun seemed to bounce off the valley's walls and tint the lands a red, the air seemed to set the lands ablaze as the light bounced off tree and blade of grass, and valley wall and sprawling plains.
But what really caught Clarke's gaze were the warriors she saw atop horse back in the distance below. She watched as they rode in a great half circle around a cluster of what she assumed to be targets, and with each pass the warriors made Clarke saw them stand in their saddles, she saw some lean over, some twisting their bodies, others swivelling fully in their saddles as they passed the targets, and she heard the telltale twang and thump as arrows were released and as targets were hit.
Her gaze moved to another larger plain not far from the first, and Clarke saw other warriors riding back and forth, the horses eager and energetic in movements, and Clarke was sure those warriors must have been practicing war manoeuvres, drills and formations that could as easily take life as they could save life.
And then, even deeper into the valley Clarke saw other warriors, these ones no smaller than ants as they ran through an open field as horses ran towards them, and Clarke couldn't help but gasp out in shock and surprise as she saw the warriors reach out as quickly and as surely as any warrior she had seen, and she watched as each one snared their horse's saddle and flung themselves onto their mounts with a smoothness that spoke of years of training and determination and concentration.
"Welcome to our lands, Clarke," Ten said to her, and Clarke knew she heard the pride in the woman's voice, and she looked to Ten in front of her before looking to Jessa to sat wide eyed and awed as she took in the warriors that moved below.
"Our village," and Clarke looked to Jorda to see him pointing down to the lake in the distance, Jessa's gaze following his outstretched hand with an awed expression.
And as Clarke squinted, she was sure she could see the shimmerings of a village by the lake's edge, its centre dominated by what Clarke thought to be a great bonfire, its buildings spiralling out from its centre in sweeping rings, all joined by a web of flowing side streets and main roads that seemed to be bustling and full of life.
And as Clarke looked back to Jessa, she couldn't blame the girl for staring and for being awed.
If only because she, too, felt the same.
The winding journey down the side of the valley and into the valley floor took a long few minutes, Ten and Jorda careful yet confident in the guidance of their horses as they wove in-between craggy rocks and clumps of grass, dirt and swaying vegetation.
And so Clarke eyed the many warriors and other people they passed, each one atop great horses, bows and quivers of arrows settled upon shoulders, hanging from hips or tied to the side of horses.
"All our warriors must know how to fire arrow and use bow on horseback," Ten said as they passed another group of warriors who looked Clarke and Jessa up and down with a curiosity and intrigue.
"Our plains are large," Jorda said, and he gestured out around them. "This valley is only one of a few," and he paused for a moment as he nodded to a warrior in the distance who raised a hand in greeting. "So our villages are large, our people live in large groups."
"Unlike Trikru," Ten continued. "Trikru live in smaller villages, but there are more," and Clarke thought that that revelation made sense.
If only because people would tend to cluster around water sources rather than spread out over empty lands.
"And that's why you've all got horses?" Clarke asked, and she found herself realising that every person, warrior and other alike, all rode horse, none without.
"Yes," and Clarke heard a pride in Ten's voice. "All must have a horse if they wish to travel across our lands," and Ten paused as she nodded to her own recognised face they passed. "It is a right of passage to choose a horse."
And so gentle conversation continued back and forth between them, and Clarke found herself continuing to look out at the lands, at the vast valley walls that they had just been atop of, and at the groups of warriors they continued to pass in the distance who all seemed content to continue training in the setting sun's light.
The village Clarke had seen at the valley's ridgeline seemed larger now that she paused at its gates.
Or perhaps gates was the wrong word. If only because there were no gates, and no walls, and that buildings seemed to spring up subtly at first, small storehouses, larger stables and small rest homes for the weary.
But Clarke was sure that she now stood before an invisible boundary where the village met with open plains. And she thought so because buildings, some large, some small clustered together in a line, an arc and a circle, and Clarke was sure this was the first of the rings of buildings she had seen as they had descended into the valley.
"This is a village?" Clarke asked to Ten who stood by her side, the woman hitching a pack higher onto her shoulders as she took a moment to settle a lock of hair that fell out of place.
"Yes," and Ten smiled as she followed Clarke's gaze through the winding main street that opened a path through the first of the buildings before them. "It is large," Ten said and Clarke couldn't help but to hear just the faintest hints of jest in the woman's voice. "Now come."
And so Clarke fell into tired step beside Ten, Jessa close by her side as Jorda took up the rear, and Clarke wasn't so sure what to say, what to voice and perhaps even what to think.
Perhaps she had expected a smaller village, perhaps she had expected a quiet village, something simple, something less filled with what she was sure would be frantic commotion when the sun hung at its highest point in the sky.
And yet, as Clarke took in each building they passed, each window that was closed with a red stained fabric, each door that was kept open with a doorstop carved of stone, of rock, of tree or even of metal, Clarke couldn't help but think of futures where she could lose herself to a new life, to something that could replace and overshadow whatever pasts she had once lived.
And even more than that, she perhaps thought that such a life could keep her mind from straying too far to memories she hoped to never dwell on again.
"What is this place called?" Clarke asked, and she saw Jessa's eyes take in all that she saw too.
"Raska," Ten said. "It is not the largest of our villages," and Clarke wondered just how large the others must be.
And Clarke didn't think she could do much more than nod at Ten's words and so she fell quiet, eyes taking in all that she saw.
Torches burned in sconces embedded into the ground, their flames flickering to the very slight breeze that filtered its way down to the valley floor, shadows seemed longer now, too, the sun already dipping below the valley walls and Clarke was sure darkness would render the city in a purple depth that would be as equally intense as the fierceness of the reddened hue that still clung desperately around them.
People moved about, too, and Clarke took in the clothes they wore, and she couldn't help but to compare them to those she had seen of Trikru. And she thought the clothes of the Plains Riders more free, lighter than the leathers and metals and furs of Trikru. And she couldn't help but feel just a little envy at what it must feel like to have the warmth of thick cloth wrap her body, to have loose fabrics breathe against her skin.
And perhaps as those thoughts began to settle within her mind she couldn't help but to also feel just a little self conscious to the fact that her clothes must have been too obvious, too foreign. And she knew what she wore to be torn and dirtied, frayed and battered and beaten to the wilds she had traversed.
"You can trade for new clothes," Ten said quietly, and Clarke looked up to see the woman peering at her with a caution in her eyes that made Clarke think she had been read too easily, or that she had been too open in her thoughts, in her movements.
But as Ten's words sunk in, Clarke realised that she didn't quite have anything she could trade for. If only because Jessa had been the only one to carry anything else with her, that had been the only one with anything worth more than nothing.
"I don't think I have anything worth trading for," and Clarke found herself not quite able to look Ten in the eyes, and she found herself too afraid to let her voice carry too far lest Jessa overhear. If only because she was sure the girl would offer what little she had.
"That is ok," and Ten smiled for a moment as she nodded to a couple that they passed. "Perhaps you can work for them," and Clarke looked away in thought as she wondered just what she had not so overtly agreed to.
"That won't be a problem?" Clarke asked, and she couldn't help but to worry her lip.
"No," Ten shrugged.
And so Clarke found herself smiling in thanks just a little, but she looked over her shoulder to find Jessa and Jorda talking quietly, the man seemingly content to humour Jessa's barrage of questions and prods as she gestured to each building they passed, each new thing they saw.
"I don't think Jessa understands what's really happening," Clarke said after a moment, and she saw Ten's eyebrows quirk together in thought. "She hasn't once looked back, I don't think she realised what she agreed to when she decided to follow me," and Clarke looked away in thought as they continued to wind through the streets, the grass underfoot just a little downtrodden and beaten to the feet and the traffic that graced these passageways. "I don't think she understands that I don't ever want to go back," and at that Clarke found herself realising she had said more, that she had revealed more than she had intended to do.
But yet she found herself not so caring that Ten knew.
If only because she thought the woman didn't mind so much.
"Perhaps you do not give her enough credit, Clarke," Ten countered, the woman taking in each little exchange between both Jessa and Jorda. "Perhaps she wished to escape whatever demons lived in her past just as much as you did," and Ten shrugged again. "Perhaps she is embracing this new chance for life that she has taken for herself."
And at that Clarke found that they had come to stop at the opposite end of the village, this section more quiet than she had realised, more out of the way, less full of the bustle of people, of animals and whatever other sounds seemed to filter through a village no matter the hour.
Clarke looked around them then, and she saw smaller huts than those that they had passed, and these ones seemed simple, but still, built with no less care than the others.
And they stood before a small hut, whose roof was thatched, its walls a mixture of wood boards and fabrics and leather, perhaps almost a tent in the stages of permanence rather than that of a settled home, but as Clarke took in the swaying red fabric that covered each small window, as she took in the doorframe and its intricate carvings and as she took in the patterns that seemed to be stitched into every piece of fabric and leather, Clarke was sure that the small hut would be as homely as any she could imagine.
But perhaps most of all, she didn't think she could complain with what she thought was being offered.
"You may call this home for as long as you wish," Ten said as she gestured forward.
And Clarke couldn't help but to chew on her lip for a moment as she took yet another moment to consider.
But perhaps this time she found that she already had the answer to her question.
"For as long as we wish?" Clarke asked, and she looked to Jessa who had quietened, who had moved to her side, eyes taking in the small hut as a hand clutched at the small toy on her hip.
"Yes," Ten said.
And so Clarke took in the deepest of breaths that she could, she let her eyes close and she tried to settle her thoughts as she heard the faintest whisperings of her past try to bubble free, try to find a place that hadn't been banished to the corners of her mind.
But as Clarke's eyes opened she found herself surprised to see her gaze remained steady and sure as she looked to the hut before back to Jessa and then Ten and Jorda who stood a pace away.
"I—"
"You do not need to say anything," Ten preempted as she held up a hand. "For now," and Ten gestured forward. "Enter, rest, sleep if you wish. I will return with new clothes," and Clarke couldn't help but smile just a little as she sensed Jessa's eagerness at that.
"Thank you," Clarke said, and she hadn't meant for her voice to come out so quietly, she hadn't even meant for it to break just a little at the ends.
But she found herself not quite so sure how to react to what she found happening.
If only because she had perhaps expected demands to have been demanded, requirements to be required and even responsibilities to be given.
And yet, she found none of that.
"I will return soon," Ten said once more before she smiled as she turned and began to walk away, Jorda quick to send a smile and a nod to Jessa before he, too turned and fell into place beside Ten, their hands quick to intertwine as they began to bleed into the reddened haze of the plains.
"Is this our home?" Jessa asked.
And Clarke turned back to the girl to see her looking to the small hut, her eyes wide once more, her braid messed, hair tussled and pack in arm.
"Yeah," and Clarke found herself smiling just a little as she took a step forward, her hand cautious as it came to press against the wood of the door. "I guess it is," and Clarke gave a gentle push.
The door swung open quietly, just a little creak giving way to its movements. The inside of the hut was as homely as Clarke had expected. A small table sat in its centre, a chair in the corner to the left, another in the corner to the right. A hanging sheet of red stained fabric hung from the roof, intricate stitching bringing to life a pattern through the fabric of a scene of horses racing through open fields.
Clarke stepped through the hut then, and she felt Jessa shadow her movements with her own uncertainty and caution, but Clarke was sure she also felt an excitement and a happiness begin to roll off the other girl.
And it didn't surprise Clarke when Jessa took another cautious step forward until she came to a stop in the centre of the room and turned in a slow circle with a smile on her face as she took in each small and simple detail that had become a place for them both to find refuge.
"Do you want to stay?" Clarke asked out, and she watched as Jessa moved deeper into the small hut's interior, as she came to the curtain and pulled it aside to reveal a small bedroom and a large, simple bed in the corner, sheets and and furs and softened pillows laid out neatly.
"Yes," and Jessa turned back to her, eyes steadying, and Clarke took just a moment to think of what Ten had spoken of, and so she found herself following Jessa's path through the room before she came to kneel before the girl.
"For as long as we want?"
"Yes," and Jessa nodded.
"For as long as they'll have us?" and Clarke wasn't so sure who she tried to reassure now.
"Yes," and Jessa smiled just a little more confidently.
And so Clarke nodded.
But she heard the quiet thump of feet against grass and she turned to the sound of a knock that rang out quietly through the hut.
Ten stood by the entrance, arms wrapped around a large packed parcel, her braided locks seemingly more free and lighter than moments ago.
"For you," Ten said as she held out the parcel as Clarke took it from her.
"I'll work for them," Clarke said, and she made sure Ten met her gaze as she looked down into her arms to see neatly folded leathers and fabrics and cloths she knew would serve her well for however long she needed.
"We will work for them," and Clarke looked down to see Jessa standing by her side, the girl halfway reaching for the parcel, too.
"Now rest," and Ten smiled as she reached out and laid a hand atop Jessa's head for a moment. "For tonight, for tomorrow. For however long you nee—"
"Tomorrow," Clarke cut in. "First thing tomorrow," and she found herself latching onto whatever new life she would be embracing. "I'll be wherever I'm needed."
Ten took a moment to take her measure, to eye the shallowness of her cheeks, the shadows under her eyes and the cuts and bruises upon her body, to the subtle way Clarke held her arm to her side, and to the still fresh scar that cut through her forehead and down the side of her temple.
"Tomorrow," Ten nodded. "I will be here."
Ten smiled as she turned and left, her own gait finding a tiredness that Clarke was sure was long overdue.
And so Clarke let the door close with a quiet thud, and as she turned she couldn't help but to smile just a little as Jessa began to light candles that she found had been placed around the hut, whose flames now gave the hut enough light for them both to see.
"Tomorrow," and Clarke smiled as Jessa looked up at her words. "Are you ok with that?"
"Yes," Jessa answered with a yawn, and Clarke couldn't help but to feel her own fatigue beginning to really settle in.
And so she made her way to the bed behind the red stained curtain, the softness of pillows calling to her.
And she wondered for just a moment how sleeping arrangement would be made in days and nights to come, but for now she didn't quite mind that Jessa followed her with heavy step, and Clarke found herself not quite minding as Jessa crawled onto the bed, as she kicked off her dirty boots and as she curled herself into a small ball, eyes quick to close and breathing quick to even out.
And just before Clarke found herself doing the same she took a moment to look out of the nearest window, the fabric that covered it enough to keep the world outside quiet and blurred to her vision.
But perhaps, if she tried hard enough to let her mind see, she was sure she sensed the faintest wisps of her demons who seemed to have accepted their place somewhere in the recesses of her mind where their existence wasn't able to be quite so piercing as they once had been.
And Clarke let her head fall onto the pillow, she let the bed take her bodily aches and pains, and she let her breathing fall into a rhythm and a peace she didn't think she had felt for so very long.
And so Clarke found a smile gracing her lips as she felt Jessa's body roll into hers and as she found her thoughts turning to futures yet to come.