A/N: Chapter Five is here! Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or plot to The 100.

"Excuse me?"

Marcus sighed heavily, "You all heard me, they want Clarke."

"Want Clarke how?" Miller demanded with fire in his eyes.

"I'm seeing a theme here." Murphy muttered to himself as he began to pace.

Miller and Marcus got into a heavy argument within seconds and with Murphy in the background, "Peace talks come with executions. Population control and psychological control, genius." he continued to add his voice to the noise as he paced the width of the room.

Zoe and Wells focused more on Clarke; "I'm sure there's a way around this." her female companion reassured her while Wells readily agreed and offered more physical support, but Clarke remained silent. Her eyes were trained on the opposite wall as she controlled her breathing. "Why is your neck twitching?"

"Zoe…" Wells scolded and then proceeded to turn to Clarke, "we can figure this out."

"There's nothing to figure out Wells."

It was like the sound of her voice rang out through the city, but really it was soft and quiet. It still stopped everyone in the room as they turned to face her. Miller, of course it was Miller, had been the most upset. He had begun to insist as he made his way towards her, but in Clarkes' mind there was nothing left to insist upon, she knew what she had to do. She met Kanes' eyes and nodded once; "They get me and we all get peace, right?"

Marcus looked pained, but he insisted anyway, "There are other ways to get peace Clarke."

"None that don't end the same way."

"You don't know that."

"I do." Clarke stood with her arms crossed at her chest, like she was hugging herself, "What's next Kane?"

Marcus for the most part does look a little awkward as he rubs at the back of his neck. "We have some time before Lexa is going to call the ambassadors back. Each one has to present one of their representatives to me and then I have to choose three."

"So you get to pick who gets the glory of Wanheda?"

"Luckily for you Trikrus' ambassador felt the need to remind everyone in the room what a value you are to our people alive."

"So she brought up my mother."

"Right, but for the most part it did work. The council was much more inclined to lift the bounty on your head with this outcome than they were before."

"Ok, so what am I supposed to do?" Clarke demanded, frustration clearly evident in her tone and stance. "Marcus…"

"Well of the three representatives I chose one of them will win your hand in marriage."

The room exploded in noise and chaos. Clarke sank back down to the seat she had previously vacated. She wasn't in silence because of outrage -no, it was more like a confusion. Instead she sat in silence while she ran through numerous possibilities in her head. It didn't make sense that they'd want her hand in marriage. She expressed just that concern when she had a moment in between the gasped and outraged shouts. Not surprisingly it was Wells that answered diplomatically.

"History repeats itself." Ok, so it wasn't as diplomatic as Clarke imagined it being, but it got everyone's' attention and it made the circling noise cease for just a minute to allow his explanation. "Obviously their culture is mirroring some of the same traditions from ancient civilizations. If I had to guess I'd say more along the lines of the Inca or even Mayan institutes. Both believed in religious sacrifice and dedication to a warrior lifestyle and most had a dedication to their emperor. They lived in tribes and at the height of their time their civilizations could stretch across entire countries."

Murphy huffed; "Great, thank you for that history lesson, can we apply it to our current situation or were you just offering up a fun fact?"

"Shut up asshole." Wells bit out as he re-collected his thoughts, "Each ancient civilization had its own religious institute. Many of them were polytheists, meaning they worshipped more than one God-"

"Which is not the Grounders belief," Marcus interrupted, "Lincoln explained to us the set up of their belief system and it revolves around one central deity."

"Does it though? I mean, think about it! They don't believe in one God Kane, they believe that one person is suited to carry their flame which encompasses the voices of all the previous commanders." Miller interjected from his corner of the room. He had remained otherwise silent throughout the ordeal, but silence was oftentimes deceiving when it came to the young guard.

"Okay, good information. Let's assume we're dealing with a society built around kathenotheism." Wells continued. "They worship one particular idol or God or whatever, but it doesn't deter them from other deities. We obviously know that their leader is the commander, but what is she called?"

"They use the term heda."

Miller is the first to piece it all together, "They call Clarke Wanheda which means they've now associated her on the same scale as their commander which is conflicting."

"So there can only be one commander…" Clarke mused, she too had joined the pacing at one point, "Kane, what exactly did they insinuate when they started talking about my role in all of this."

"A few of them insinuated that Lexa should kill you and claim your…" he gestured at her vaguely, "your spirit. It sounded like the idea was that if she killed you whatever power you possess would be inherited by their flame."

"Believe it or not, that sounds about right. So why marriage?"

Wells snapped, "Because deities don't bleed and if their pattern of civilization is following the patterns of historical societies it's safe to assume a marriage ceremony would include the exchanging of blood."

"Gross." came from Murphy in the back. Clarke on the other hand hummed in agreeance while she mumbled, "Blood must have blood."

"So this is just one big challenge?"

"It could be? I'm not an expert on Grounder culture, I just fancied the history of the human race as a kid. This is all stipulation."

"What else is there Kane? There has to be something missing."

"Some of the ambassadors expressed concern when it came to trusting Clarke to live in peace. They refused to vote us into the coalition without the guarantee that Clarke has no hold on any decisions being made."

"It's bullshit, they're afraid of her so they're going to try and pair her up with someone we don't know or trust that will control her!"

"I can see why you're outraged Miller, but I feel as if our hands are tied."

"No they are not, we could leave. We didn't come here searching for an alliance, it was offered to us. Why can't we express our disagreement to their bullshit terms and walk away?"

"And risk our people not surviving the winter? Or a constant state of war? Is that really the life you wish to have on the ground?"

"It's better than constantly putting my friends to bat and watching them strike out!"

"And I understand your frustration-"

"How could you understand?"

"Nathan we've all had to make sacrifices-"

"And you sacrificed what exactly?"

Clarke stepped between Miller and Marcus with a flurry of movement and fury in her words; "Back off. Both of you need to separate and calm down. We are stressed and we are tired, but we can't turn on each other. Am I making myself clear?"

"You're right Clarke, we need to approach this situation with level heads."

She turned to face Miller and he rolled his eyes and agreed; "Good, so now let's figure this out." She sat herself at the table in the middle of the room and motioned for the others to join her. She tried to create a feeling of normalcy and stability. "All things considered this isn't the worst scenario to be in."

Miller shook his head once and disagreed, "Not great though and I don't like anyone being forced into something like this. Marriage is a pretty permanent thing Griffin."

"So is death Miller."

"Either way," Clarke interrupted again with a steely voice to keep Miller and company under control, "we need to get control of the situation."

"How do you suggest we do that?"

"I am also intrigued by your answer."

"Firstly, stop instigating shit Murphy." He responded to her glare with his hands in the air. "Secondly, we have to delay the challenge. Somehow we have to get one of the clans on our side, preferably one that geographically rests closely to Mount Weather. Logistically we don't have much to offer."

"We have nothing to offer."

"I don't believe that!" She insisted fiercely to the dismayed response from Zoe. She looked around the room and let out a long steady breath. She knew what she had to do, she just didn't like it. "I need to talk to Lexa and I need to find Roan."

"Who is Roan?"

"Wells, Murphy and Miller with me!" Clarke ignored Kanes' question and began to bark out orders. "Zoe I need you to make yourself scarce and to try and figure out any information possible on these representatives, Kane you need to ensure that of the three you choose one of them is Ice Nation."

"Why would you want me to choose from the clan that actively wants you dead?"

"Just trust me Kane."

He managed to grip her arm firmly, but softly, before she had exited the room. "I do Clarke, I trust you, but you can't leave me in the dark. There's too much at stake for our people here."

She nodded once, "I know, that's why I need to find Lexa and Roan and then we can talk about what's next."

She didn't really give him time to respond as she just stepped out of his grasp and headed back towards the door where the three young men waited for her. It took only a second for him to realize he had gone unanswered. In a slightly desperate attempt he shouted; "Who is Roan?" but he was met with silence from the halls. He sat down at the empty table and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration while letting out a deep aggravated sigh. "This is going wonderfully."

Zoe snorted, "Yeah, you know I always imagined myself spying on a group of people to seek out my friends potential husband.." Marcus glared, "... or wife." He glared again, but before he could come up with a retort she had already slipped out of the room.

Roan had not expected to be summoned to Lexas' small meeting room in broad daylight. Then again, he hadn't expected many things in his life. So when he walked in and saw a small group of sky people in the room as well he really should have expected something -anything really, as he learned the Sky People were incredibly unpredictable. He masked his surprise with an unbothered, almost bored, greeting. "Commander, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Lexa looked angry, not quite as angry as he had seen her in the past, but well on her way. Her greeting was every bit as cold as her eyes. "It's time for you to earn your place back among your people."

At that he raised his eyebrows in shock, "I thought you wanted me to protect the sky princess."

"And that's what you shall do." Lexa gestured with her left hand to the sky people that he had presently ignored until that moment. "Rights of Favor have been called and Clarkes' hand in marriage is now the driving force behind peace talks."

He could feel the young girl's eyes on him, but he paid her no mind. "Of course, it was something you had anticipated, is it not?"

"Neither here nor there Roan." Clarkes' eyes flew from Roans' back to Lexas' as she stared out towards the open window. "I'm realigning the details of your assignment."

"Of course Heda, I'm here to serve you."

She turned and huffed at him, "No need to put on a show. Wells is it?" she stared beyond Roan and motioned for Wells to step forward, though she tested his name hesitantly first. "If you could fill Roan in on your worries. This way all none of the details are missed."

"Yeah, yeah of course."

Roan watched a young man, young in age and dark skinned, step forward. He stood tall and there was an air of confidence or arrogance to him. Roan wasn't sure which, but he couldn't fight the smirk once the boy started talking. His retelling of the story was concise, miniscule details that most wouldn't think mattered were mentioned. It confirmed all of his original suspicions. The boy named Wells would be an important asset and ally to the Sky People when it came time for them to elect an ambassador.

In summary; the information provided isn't terribly concerning. Obviously Ice Nation warriors could handle a small amount of rebellious sky people. However, if that small amount became a larger amount it would be a little more difficult to persuade the council of justified retribution. Roan rubbed at his chin while he contemplated. On the one hand, it was an incredible opportunity to get a one up on the sky people. On the other, they had implied that his people could be in danger. He could reason with the sky people, that he knew his peoples warriors were ruthless and that his mother acted without thinking. "You still have yet to tell me what you need me for."

Clarke looked him square in the eye and without so much of a flinch her voice carried through the room. "We need you to kill Link and assume the role as the Azgeda ambassador."

"Excuse me?"

"It sounds crazy and it's dangerous, but it's the only way."

"Commander?"

Lexa nodded solemnly; "With you on my council your position as the Ice Nation Prince will be completely reinstated. Your clan would still be represented within the coalition and any decision your mother wishes to make outside of your borders will have to be approved by you before brought forward to me. It's an incredible honor."

"It's also an act of treason against my mother." Roan grunted. "Say I do this, what do my people gain from it?"

Clarke stepped forward, "They get Wanheda. We can bring it to the council before this challenge is supposed to start. Explain the situation with our people and then you would bring forward a peace treaty directly with Skaikru through marriage. From there your choice in representative would be my husband."

"The challenge has already begun Sky Princess," Roan said, mostly to watch her back straighten at the newfound nickname, "to disrupt the tradition would be suspicious."

"He's correct," Lexa intervened, "even with Links' death and substitution each clan must still present their representatives and your ambassador must still choose three."

"If you knew that, what was the purpose of listening to my idea?"

"Because it's a good plan Clarke. I have to consult my advisor, Titus, and gain his cooperation. From there I can present the idea of a choice, but it will have to be from the three that Marcus Kane already selected."

"Is there any way to ensure that Ice Nation's person is chosen?"

"Not technically," Roan supplied, "they're supposed to stand before your ambassador naked to ensure there are no abnormalities or imperfections to your choice. The only way to know which clan they're representing is in the presence of specific markings."

"That is incredibly embarrassing."

Roan shrugged over at one of the men against the wall, boys more like, but he didn't disagree. "Ice Nation bears scars. We wear them with pride and in some extreme cases go through scarification processes. Typically these marks are facial, like my own. Most clans believe in ink marks, tattoos and the like. Each clan has its own particular marks. For Trikru they utilize a traditional tribal design that resembles their relationship to the earth around them."

"Interesting, now the water clans, do they have a similar process?"

"More or less."

"Is there an explanation behind it? Or just something you've always done."

Roan looked over at Wells then back to Clarke, "Your friend has a lot of questions."

"He likes to learn, it's his thing."

"To each their own," he turned back towards the dark skinned man (more like a boy, but the maturity rested in his eyes), "it's just a tradition, I'm sure your people have their own traditions."

"Well traditionally a marriage is a mutual agreement between two people." Murphy sniped from his position against the far wall. "But, like you said, to each their own."

"Murphy…"

"I'm just saying!" He threw himself off the wall at Clarkes' groan and pleaded for him to shut up. "So far since we've landed on this good for nothing planet we've been hunted and when we weren't hunted we were starving. If we weren't starving we were in the midst of a war, which by the way-"

Clarke attempted to reign him in, "Murphy, that's enough."

"How can you stand there and tell me that's enough? They want to marry you off in the same way they'd trade crops! We wouldn't even be in this mess if they hadn't shot at us first! And you know I'm right. You're willing to jump for this peace treaty and the best they can give you is peace through marriage. Do you not see how fucked up that is?"

"We see it man," Miller clasped his friend on the shoulder tightly, "but we're seeing the bigger picture here Murphy."

"Listen to me and only me." Clarke stood in front of him with her eyes locked on his. "I will do whatever I have to do to ensure my people are safe. I'm not thrilled with how things are turning out, I'm not thrilled at the idea of marrying a complete stranger either, but I'll do it one-hundred times over if it means that you and everyone else back at Arkadia get a chance to live a peaceful life."

Murphy nodded once and sniffed, Miller had released him during Clarkes' miniature speech. He knew that Clarke was right. She had a funny way of always being right. She was the right one to speak on their behalf. She was the person that arrived right on time. She was the right friend to rely on for a laugh or pep talk. Deep down he knew that she would be the right one for this too; he hated it, but he knew it. So he blinked away the wetness in his eyes (there was dust) and nodded once more. "Yeah, yeah you're right."

Then the big warrior, the prince of the Ice Nation had interjected and brought the sky kids back to reality. Harsh and cold as it was, Roans' voice had taken a more subtle tone almost like he was speaking to a spooked animal. "I know it doesn't mean much coming from me, but our customs are based on what we know and perhaps if we get the chance to know yours we can adjust."

"You're making decisions without consenting your commander first Roan."

"No, I'm speaking diplomatically. I think that Klark com Skaikru should have some kind of say in her future."

"And if she chooses to marry no one?"

Roan shrugged and looked over at Lexa, "Then we go forward with the challenge."

Lexa pushed herself back from her hunched over form and let out a heavy sigh. "And I suppose you'd want this to be your first order of business upon the removal of Link?"

"You know me so well Lexa."

Lexa stood up at his snicker and made her way to the door; "I can't make any promises, I must consult the Flame and then my adviser Titus. You have twelve hours to complete your task Roan, we can meet after your success and figure out the next steps from there. For now, we must prepare to initiate the challenge."

Clarke watched the woman as she walked towards the door and as she was about to clear it she felt her voice carry throughout the room, "Thank you! I know this makes things difficult, but thank you Lexa for working with us."

Lexa paused and looked back blinking in surprise, "You don't have to thank me Clarke. I'm just doing what's right." She left before Clarke could say anything. There was a fluttering feeling that radiated through Clarkes' stomach at Lexas' words. Weeks ago she had held such a strong resentment and hatred towards the young commander. She blamed Lexa for all the wrong in her life, for the torment she had gone through. While these acts of kindness and understanding didn't clear up the act of betrayal that day at the mountain they did reassure her that both of them were on the same page.

For once, it felt nice to not feel alone.

Monty Green had been through a lot.

He had thought that getting arrested alongside Jasper for stealing herbs had been the worst of it. Like they say, ignorance is bliss, because things just progressed dramatically from there. The two boys were in the juvenile detention center for well over a year when they had been herded like cattle into the Dropship and shot down to Earth. The reminder that they had all been seen as expendable still stung, but nearly as much as it did when Jasper was speared to a tree. That was a mess! From that mess came sleepless nights and paranoia that stilled seeped into the young teens bones if he let it. Then there was the war with the Grounders which was a little less stressful than the unknown. In the grand scheme of things Monty knew he had it all wrong in his head, but their new reality had a funny way of morphing things.

It was after the war with the Grounders when things got bad, like really, really bad.

First was Mount Weather and for a while Monty thought that everything would be alright. They had been given fresh clothes and food. They were allowed to mingle with other people -people that didn't want to kill them on sight for existing. The blood transfusions weren't even that bad! He didn't mind donating blood every couple of days to help the people in the mountain. None of that was what kept him up at night. After the façade of safety and comfort wore off -during the forced bone marrow extractions, was the start of the nightmares. Monty could still feel the press of the needle, the haze of pain that surrounded him in every movement. He remembered the emotion that came with every empty bed and loss. He could still hear the desperation in Clarkes' voice, feel the computer keys under his fingers (tap, tap, tap) and Millers' gasping breaths. He could hear the mechanical buzz of the needle and could still see Raven strapped to the table unconscious and pale.

He could still see Jaspers' heartbreak.

He could still hear his sneer of contempt.

He could still feel his shrug of indifference as Monty attempted to offer him comfort.

He woke up most nights in a cold sweat with no breath thinking of all those things. Every horrible thing he'd ever done in space and on the ground weighed him down. The lie that Monty lived each day made it hard for him to eat. Clarke lied to Jasper for him, to protect his friendship and in doing so cursed Monty. He would be eternally grateful that Jasper was still around, still his, but it wasn't the same. The drunk Jasper Jordan that wandered camp and picked fights was not the Jasper Jordan that Monty had been arrested with. Perhaps, that was the hardest part about the ground. To see the change in those around him; happy to sad, hopeful to hopeless… like constant reminders that the Earth was hellish and space (motherfucking space) was the best part of his life.

For a split second he had been given a chance at happiness, when they had told him his mother and a few other survivors were welcomed into Arkadia hours after Clarke had left for Polis, Monty had been ecstatic. His reunion with his mother the following day in Mount Weathers' medical bay was wholesome. They hugged and whispered with each other, they cried over the loss of his father and they sat in blissful silence. His mother asked how they did it, how one-hundred children survived so long. He answered; he told her of the things they did together (the wall, the shelters, the medicines, the hunts). He told her of their fears (death, death, death) and he recounted the stories for her (bonfires, outsmarting the Grounders, sharing cake in the mess hall of Mount Weather with friends -before the blood and bone marrow). He told her about Clarke and Miller and Jasper.

"It's incredible!" his mother gushed as she pulled him closer to her side, "Being able to utilize a space like this, you kids got lucky."

"Uh," he pondered while he pulled back, just enough to look at her clearly, note the color of her eyes and liens on her face, "no, no; this place isn't home and we didn't utilize it when we landed."

"So how did we end up here?"

At that Monty paused, because he didn't want to tell his mother the truth, and didn't want to admit his role in all of it. "There were people in this bunker before us. They weren't really into the idea of sharing, but in the end we proved more resilient and resourceful."

"Were they grounders?"

"No, they couldn't live on the ground. Their bodies were so protected against the radiation that they all got sick." Monty felt sick as he said it. He could clearly see Maya's glassy eyes and the elderly couple by the piano and the little girl at the table with her parents.

"Better than to face death at the grounders hands."

And she said with such contempt and malice that it made Monty pull back entirely from his mother's arms. "Not all grounders are blood thirsty."

"Perhaps, but none of them can be trusted. I think about what they did to your father and the other survivors in those weeks before Charles took control and I'm thankful that he stepped up when he did. They're monsters Monty."

"And we're not?"

"We're survivors." She gripped his hand so tightly that her knuckles turned white. It felt like desperation in its newest form. "Your father would be so proud of you."

He excused himself moments after her chapped lips pressed against his forehead. He felt like he couldn't breathe. His heart pounded in his chest at an uncontrollable tempo and his palms gathered sweat in small puddles. He swore it was the end, because his legs couldn't carry him and he felt himself slide to the cold stone ground of the bunker. His bearings were lost and he hadn't even been aware of where he sat until he heard it. His name called over and over again, frantic and panicked. A vision of a blonde swam in front of him and for a moment he wondered how many times Clarke would be the one saving his life.

"Come one Monty, you can do it."

Her voice wasn't Clarkes', it was softer and more airy. Her hands weren't the same either; he could tell based on the way she pressed into his shoulders. Clarke had sturdy soft palms with calloused fingers, these hands had a slight tremor to them and calloused all around. The warmth that emitted from this angel like figure was eventually what broke through Monty's bone seeping cold panic. Suddenly he could breathe again and was being hugged and hushed while skinny fingers worked their way through his hair. It was a lot of positive affirmations, "you're alright" and "it's okay" being the most common. The stiffness of his joints eventually loosened and he was able to return the hug with a ferocity that took him by surprise. By the squeak of the girl in his arms it took her by surprise too! However, despite his inner voice telling him how awkward this must be for her he held on because it just felt right. Nothing has felt right in such a long time that he didn't want it to go away. Eventually the pair had to pull apart, mostly because her knees locked up from their crouched position and his butt had gone numb from resting against the cold concrete for so long. The girl, Harper McIntyre, stood first and offered her hand to him to help him up.

"Thanks, uh, for that." He ducked his head and scratched at the nape of his neck, an awkward tick he's always had.

She smiled softly; "You'd do the same for me and we'd do the same for any of our other friends."

"Still," he persisted upon meeting her eyes, "you didn't have to sit with me through that mess."

Harper chuckled, "I mean, most of us don't enjoy sharing our mental breakdowns with others, but I've never not appreciated some company in the aftermath."

"I guess you're not wrong there. What were you doing here anyway?"

"Dr. Jackson wanted to do another evaluation on me before releasing me back to full duty. Unfortunately that means coming back here instead of him coming to us at camp. How about yourself?"

"My mom, she was one of the survivors that were brought in and Dr. Griffin thought it would be best if I came to her for the first time."

Harper nodded once and then turned her head away, she stared at the floor for a few moments, "Was it everything you hoped it would be? Your reunion with her?"

Monty sighed heavily and rubbed at his face; "Honestly? I don't know. Her presence felt like my mom, but it was like talking to a stranger. Makes me wonder if the ground has changed me that much or her..."

She looked up at that and then instinctively reached for his hand. "It doesn't matter. She's your mother and if you're happy that she's here, then I'm happy for you and that's..." she stopped with pinched eyebrows and stuttered breath, "you're allowed to be happy, because of your mom or not."

"I know but-"

"No buts Monty Green!" she insisted with a fierce look in her brown eyes and her arms crossed over her chest, he saw that stance a lot in Mount Weather when she meant business. "The ground doesn't get to take our chances of happiness too, it doesn't. Say it."

"Harper..." he groaned out but she just quirked an eyebrow in response and gestured for him to continue, "alright, the ground doesn't get to take our happiness."

"Not good enough. Again."

"The ground doesn't get to take our happiness."

She shook her head once more; "Like you mean it Monty, like you believe it."

"The ground doesn't get to take our happiness!" He added an arm flail for emphasis and was rewarded with her smile and laugh -and alright, he felt better to. "Was that better?"

"Much, your presentation could use a little work, but I'll accept it. We should eat before we head back to Arkadia." she said as she easily looped her arm in his. They walked arm in arm down the corridor towards the kitchen level and found their place in line. Harper had started to ramble on about how she had looked forward to getting cleared for full duty again, about how sitting on the sidelines just wasn't her thing and had stopped mid sentence when she felt turn her around and hug her.

"Just thank you Harper." Monty mumbled into the junction of her shoulder and neck, on instinct her arms wound themselves around his middle and up towards his shoulder. When they had pulled back they realized where they stood and broke apart quickly. A flush of embarrassment on his neck and ears and her embarrassment masked by her quick ramblings. They were served their lunch minutes later and found a table with some familiar faces to sit at. Monty Green had a tough time in the last several months, last several years if he were to be honest, but it was also entirely possible that things could start to look up. He just had to take it one day at a time.

A/N: Ok there we are, chapter five! I've worked on the first five chapters over the course of a two-three week period so that I could work on my other writing pieces during the month of posting the chapters. So with that, I'm hoping to continue this schedule as I'm dedicating an entire two more weeks to the next five chapters. If there isn't an update next Friday, please don't assume the worst, I'm just putting together a months worth of content to keep up on consistent posts. Thank you!