Miss Me Princess?
Chapter Seventeen
Murphy was right; the others were grateful to be there. More than grateful, some of them seemed to really like it. As breakfast dragged on the mouthfuls Clarke continued to force down tasted like ash in her mouth as she listened to the others chatter happily about Mount Weather.
The food was amazingand there was more of it than they had ever had before, more than the stingy tasteless rations on the ark and it came all steaming hot and freshly prepared without the hassle of having to hunt and kill each meal yourself. The beds were comfortable, showers were hot and clothes were freshly laundered. These people at Mount Weather were sokind, sogenerous, sohelpful. They had taken them in; saved them, healed them.
But why? Was the question that Clarke screamed hysterically in her head as she smiled tightly at all the happy faces sitting down to breakfast. Murphy grabbed her hand under the table and squeezed it.
"Miss Griffin." Mount Weather's president greeted her cheerily, like they were old acquaintances being reunited after a long time. He stood from behind a large wooden desk and stepped towards her. "Dante Wallace," he introduced himself, extending a hand for her to shake. Clarke took it, noticing strange spots of discoloration along his fingers, smudges of blue and green. He smiled when he realised what she was looking at. "Oil paints." He explained. "I'm an artist." His smile widened as he continued, "I'm told you are too." A chill of suspicion crept across her shoulders as he smiled at her encouragingly.
"Who told you that." Clarke asked, keeping her tone carefully neutral.
"Your people." He said it as if it were obvious, but as he smiled at her Clarke remembered her conversation with Jasper and Monty yesterday, when they told her about the president: 'Creepy Dude…He just knows stuff…and we don't know how. No one we spoke to has told them anything, at least not that they've admitted.' She kept her expression blank, all the while wondering where he could possibly be getting his information from if not from the 100. "They also told me you are there leader." Wallace continued, "another thing we have in common." Clarke realised he was purposely drawing comparisons between them, to make them seem similar. He wanted her to like him, to relate to him. But why?
Clarke pulled back her shoulders and meet his amiable expression with a hard stare.
"How many of us did you capture?"
"Capture?" Wallace's eyes widened "Oh no, you have it wrong. We rescued you. From the savages. We saved you and forty-eight others."
"In that case, you won't mind if we leave." Said Clarke.
"Why would you want to go back out there?" Wallace asked evasively.
"If there are forty-nine of us here, then there are more of our people still out there." She stated.
"The patrol brought back everyone they could find." He countered.
"What about the ark?" She questioned but he was already shaking his head before she had finished asking the question.
"We saw multiple crash sights." He said gravely. "If there are any survivors," he didn't bother to conceal his scepticism, "we will bring them in too."
"So what now?" Clarke asked.
"The last member of your group left quarantine this morning, they are being reunited with the others as we speak. Now that all forty-nine of you are fully recovered I thought a celebration was in order, to welcome you all to Mount Weather." Wallace said. The thought of celebrating made Clarke's stomach lurch. Something felt off but she couldn't put her finger on what.
"Why were we quarantined?" she asked, evading the topic of a celebration.
"You were all contaminated with radiation." He answered matter-of-factly. Clarke frowned with confusion.
"The radiation levels aren't enough to kill." She said. A wistful look washed over Wallace's face.
"Not for you maybe." He said wistfully "The ground is not as survivable as you believe. Living in space for generations has allowed your people to build up a tolerance with solar radiation, this has been bred through you for generations now." As she listened Clarke was confused by the look of excitement that gleamed briefly in his eyes as he spoke. But it was gone as fast as it had appeared and then a hint of melancholy dampened his expression as he continued "On the ground, natural selection was brutal but effective in allowing the strongest to survive amongst the savages. But to, us in here - the last of human kind – I can assure you the earth is very much still toxic."
Clarke had never considered that the people in Mount Weather stayed there because they had to. She had assumed they stayed in the mountain base for its security and resources, but now it suddenly seemed more oppressive and restrictive. She could see a deep sadness in Wallace's old lined face, but then he seemed to remember himself and turned to her with that excited smile back in place.
"For your people - with radiation in space being higher - your DNA is exceptionally proficient at metabolising radiation. Our scientists were blown away by the efficiency of your systems." He praised enthusiastically. Before Clarke could start to wonder about these scientists and how they could possibly know all of this about the 100, Wallace had already changed the subject.
"A celebration is called for." He declared with a beaming smile. Clarke realised too late that she had let her reluctance show on her face. Wallace's smile turned condescending and for the first time his tone became more forceful.
"You're not fighting for your life anymore Clarke - you made it! And it gives me great pleasure to welcome you all to Mount Weather." Clarke wondered whether it was her paranoia that made the grin on Wallace's face look almost predatory.
Clarkes head was still spinning as she walked back into the dorm. Her meeting with Wallace had been just as confusing as it had been interesting. Wallace had been polite and welcoming, but his talk of DNA and scientists made her uneasy. Exactly how much did Mount Weather know about them; why did they do such thorough testing – done without even asking for consent? Something didn't feel right about Mount Weather. It was a feeling deep in her gut, wriggly and slimy and uncomfortable that just wouldn't let her relax. Her instincts had always served her well in the past so she wasn't about to ignore them now. But she just couldn't quite put her finger on what specifically bothered her. It was the same with Wallace; there was something about the man that she didn't like, she just couldn't decide what exactly it was. But Murphy was right – they weren't in any immediate danger, so she would just have to wait, and try to figure it out.
As she walked back into the dorm Clarke scanned the room looking for Murphy. She spotted him sitting with Miller on the battered old sofas and headed towards them. She had only taken a few steps when a loud pop sounded from the speakers mounted in each corner. She stopped, along with everyone else in the room, her head jerking up at the strange sound. The pop was followed by a buzz and a crackling, like an old radio spluttering to life. A hush descended over them as everyone's attention turned to the dusty speakers.
"Good afternoon my honoured guests, I am President Wallace." The cheery voice filled the room. "The last of your group, rescued from your camp two weeks ago, was released from quarantine this morning, and has joined the rest of you. Rest assured we continue to look for more survivors."
A soft murmur and a ripple of movement spread through the room. Some smiling faces turned to look warmly at the newest arrival while others looked at each other with expressions of despair that no one else had been saved.
"Now that you are all recovered and reunited I would like to welcome you to Mount Weather." Wallace continued. "Tomorrow you will be properly welcomed into our community: with a welcome feast, to celebrate your arrival and to introduce you all to the rest of our citizens. The people of Mount Weather are all very excited for the new additions to our numbers."
More crackling, followed by a pop and then the speakers fell silent. The dorm erupted with noise as excited conversations bubbled up throughout the room.
Before she took another step, Jasper and Monty came bouncing towards her filled with energy and wearing matching grins. But Monty's excitement dimed once he saw Clarkes face.
"You don't look happy." He said. "Why don't you look happy?"
"I'm not sure about this place." Clarke answered hesitantly, not wanting to say more without having something concrete to tell them. "I just…I don't know…" She trailed off.
"Look around Clarke." Jasper voice was soft, almost pleading as he looked into her eyes. "There's no one hunting us. For the first time in our lives we're not hungry."
"But what about the others?" Clarke countered. "We have friends out there who need our help."
"They are looking for survivors" said Monty "And they are way better equipped than us to find them."
"You believe them?" Clarke asked Monty, surprised. "Just like that?" she looked between him and Jasper who were both observing her with concern "You trust them?"
"Why would they lie Clarke?"
She had no answer. She shrugged in dismay and without anything else to say she stepped away. She tried to smile as she walked passed but without any real feeling behind it it turned into more of a grimace. She thought the look of concern in their eyes might have turned to pity before she turned away from them and moved to sit with Murphy and Miller.
She flopped down onto the sofa next to Murphy, slumping back against the lumpy cushion with a frustrated sigh.
"Well that was interesting." Said Miller, sitting on the sofa opposite them. He slid forward to the edge of his seat, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned in towards them, his eyes fixed on Clarke. "So what do you think?"
"I don't know." She paused then added "I don't like it." Miller frowned, but he didn't look doubtful like Monty and Jasper had and Clarke felt a small amount of relief at that. Miller had always trusted Clarke and Bellamy, so he believed her.
"Did something happen?" Murphy asked her. He twisted slightly in his seat, angling his body more towards her as he moved his arm to lie across the back of the sofa behind her.
"No nothing happened." She shook her head "And I didn't see anything suspicious either. It was just the way he spoke, the things he said." She folded her arms across her stomach. "Wallace said they did tests on us," she told them with a small shudder of disgust. "He was talking about our DNA and how good we are at surviving the radiation." Both boys frowned. Murphy's arm slid down from the back of the sofa to rest comfortingly around Clarke's shoulders and she leaned closer into his side.
"Radiation?" Miller asked with surprise, having quickly suppressed a grin at their actions.
"Yeah. Apparently the ground isn't as safe as we thought it was. The levels are still too high for the people in Mount Weather to go outside." Clarke explained. "I never thought about it before, but it explains the creepy suits they were wearing when they captured us."
"Hazmat suits." Murphy said "So it's not survivable for them, but it's fine for us and the grounders?"
"Yes." Clarke nodded. "And when he explained it he sounded almost…I don't know, jealous?"
"What about his little announcement there?" asked Miller.
"We're 'honoured guests'?" Murphy scoffed.
"Guests can leave whenever they want." Clarke muttered darkly "I'm not seeing any exits anywhere."
"They 'rescued us'?" Miller protested. "The fighting was over by the time they showed up in their suits. The explosion had taken out the grounder army, and then they appeared through the smoke pointing their guns at us. I don't think that's how rescues normally work." He sneered.
"I wonder what the 'welcome feast' is going to be like." Murphy muttered with a steely expression.
"Doesn't it seem like they're trying too hard?" Clarke wondered, her forehead scrunched in thought.
"How do you mean?" asked Miller
"They're saying things like 'rescued' and 'guests'; but they took us here, and they are keeping us here. We don't have any information. We haven't even seen anyone other than the nurse, a couple of guards and Wallace. They have all the power; so why sugar-coat it for us so that our situation seems better than it is?" she questioned.
"Like they want us to like it here." Miller continued, following her train of thought "They want it to seem like a good thing."
"But it's too forced." Added Clarke "It's false."
"It's too good to be true." Murphy concluded. Clarke nodded in agreement.
"So what are they hiding?" said Miller.
"What do they want?" Clarke questioned.
None of the forty-nine had any idea what to expect from the welcome feast. But most of the others didn't seem as wary or suspicious as Clarke, Murphy and Miller. Most of the forty-nine were as content and enthusiastic as Jasper and Monty. It was nothing like anything they had ever experienced before.
Instead of spear-brandishing homicidal grounders there were smartly dressed, smiling faced citizens saying 'welcome' and offering refreshments.
They were all so happy, both the forty-nine and their Mount Weather hosts. There was music, chocolate cake, wine. There was lots of wine. And they laughed and joked and ate and chatted like they didn't have a care in the world. And maybe that was it, maybe they didn't have any worries anymore. So they were celebrating, and in a luxury that none of the forty-nine had ever even dreamed of. They drank wine and they laughed; they ate chocolate cake and they chatted. And all Clarke wanted to do was scream. Every time she looked at a bit of cake she thought about all the others who weren't there with them, who might still be out there. Every slice that appeared on the table in front of her she pushed away with a grimace. The wine she didn't push away. The wine she drank to help her bear the fawning welcomes of the mount weather citizens, she drank it to supress the urge to scowl at everyone that approached her. She drank it so she wouldn't scream. But she still wanted to. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, she wanted to grab her friends by the shoulders, shake them roughly and shout 'wake up!'. She wanted to run, far away. She wanted out. But she couldn't get out, didn't even know which way was out.
The realisation sucked all the air out of her lungs. She couldn't get out.
She was inside a mountain. Under hundreds of tons of rock. And there was no way out.
Suddenly the entire weight of the mountain was pressing down on her. She gasped for air but she couldn't get enough, she couldn't breathe.
The surrounding faces became a blur. The noise was drowned out by a ringing in her ears. With great effort Clarke pushed herself up out of her seat. The room tilted and began to spin as she backed away from the table on wobbly legs. A cold sweat prickled the nape of her neck as her eyes darted frantically around. Her gaze snagged on a familiar figure in a far and quite corner. Murphy was sitting alone, lounging in a large armchair with an empty bottle dangling in his hand. Clarke moved towards him with a stumbling and unsteady stride, and cursed herself for drinking so much wine, as the room rushed by in her peripheral vision. She had stepped right up beside the chair before he saw her but then he looked up at her and his face broke into a lazy smile.
"Hi Beautiful." He slurred.
She didn't stop, walking until her knees hit the chair, Clarke then climbed onto his lap. She curled her body into him, leaning into his chest and burying her face into the warmth of his neck. Maybe it was the fact that he wasn't panicking. Maybe it was the pleasant warmth that flowed over her at his affectionate greeting. Maybe it was just having him there next to her. Clarke wasn't sure what it was exactly but she instantly calmed down as air filled her lungs and the world stopped spinning quite so violently. But the wine still left her feeling dizzy and she moaned miserably against the collar of his shirt.
"Hey." He coaxed her, his voice now tinged with concern. "What's wrong?" his hand at the back of her neck gently guided her head back so that he could see her face.
"Murphy I can't do this." Her eyes were red from the wine and shining with unshed tears. "I can't stay here, I just-"
"Okay." He said simply, cutting her off. He rubbed his hand soothingly down the ridge of her spine
"Okay?"
"Okay." He confirmed. His eyes were bloodshot and his words were slowed by the alcohol but his gaze was steady and sure as it met hers. "If you're not happy here; if you don't trust them and don't feel safe, then we'll leave." Her head fell forward, her forehead bumping against his chin
"I don't think it will be that simple." She whined softly.
"Doesn't matter." He answered firmly, his lips brushing against her forehead as he spoke. "We'll do it. Together."
"Thank you." She breathed out with a sigh of relief.
Thanks for reading. Your feedback is always welcomed...so please review.
Also, I'm working on another Clarke/Murphy story just now so please keep a look out for that coming soon.
