The sun had begun to set when the door was opened next. Six guards walked in, four carrying torches. One of them was a woman, dark skinned, with a tattoo on the right side of her face. She stepped forward. "I was one who went with the Commander. Your words proved true. She sent me ahead to prepare you for their arrival." She sneered, looking down at Clarke with thinly veiled hate. "The children are concerned for your well being. They would not leave until the Commander promised them they could see you. Get up. You are to be bathed, given clean clothes, and are to wait for their arrival in the Commanders tent."
Clarke bit her lip and slowly rose to her feet. She limped behind the woman as quickly as she could. To her credit, the woman knew she was injured and set a slow pace, allowing Clarke to keep up. They walked in a cluster. Two torch bearers walked before them, one walked on either side. The woman a pace infront of Clarke and the non torch bearer a pace behind. She led Clarke out of the cell, Clarke noting that she had been right about the stove. Clarke followed her from the dungeon, across the camp, and into an area ringed by high bushes. The guards spread out, placing the torches into scones around the ring. Steam rose from the pool in the centre. A hot spring.
The woman turned to Clarke. "Strip." She commanded.
Clarke blinked. "Excuse me?" She said, taken aback.
"The Commander said that you are to bathe. Now strip." The woman folded her arms, clearly expecting to be obeyed.
Clarke looked around at all the guards, watching her. A hot blush burned from every cell in her body. "Um." She said intelligently.
The woman rolled her eyes. "Oh for Maidens sake." She cursed. She looked over at the guards. "Turn around. The little sky princess is shy, give her privacy. Let's get this farce over with."
The males all turned their backs to them, eyes glinting with amusement at the sky girls expense. The woman raised an eyebrow. "Well?"
Clarke blushed again, realizing that the woman was still going to watch, and turned so her back was to her. She removed the bandage from her leg first, then her jacket. She looked down at her boots and grimaced. There was nothing for her to hold on to, so she sat, removing them with her butt on the ground. Her pants and underwear followed. She struggled back to her feet, carefully keeping her weight on her good foot. Her shirt fell to mid thigh, concealing her modesty as she limped over to the pool.
The woman was by her side before she could get in. "Do people not bathe naked where you come from?" She taunted.
Clarke blushed as the guards around them laughed. She pulled her arms through the sleeves of her shirt and reached behind her back, unclasping her bra. The undergarment fell to the ground. Clarke took in a steadying breath as she reached for the hem of her shirt with her uninjured arm and pulled it over her head, letting it fall to the ground. "Happy?" She asked dryly.
"Ecstatic." The woman said, sarcasm oozing over the word.
Clarke was surprised when the woman helped her to enter the pool. She only touched Clarke for as long as was required, but while it lasted the touch was almost... Gentle. She let her surprise show in her eyes as she looked up at the woman. "Thank you."
The woman noted the surprise and straightened, expression neutral. "Heaven forbid the princess drown taking a bath. The Commander would have my head. If she didn't laugh hers off first."
Clarke flushed again, silently damning her fair skin as she turned to glare at the water. She then spluttered, gasping from shock and choking on water as a bucket of it was dumped over her head. She turned, glaring up at the smirking warrior above her.
She raised a mocking eyebrow. "Baths are for cleaning, not relaxing." A rag was dropped on Clarke's head, and a bar of scented soap thrusted under her nose. "You do know how to clean yourself, yes?"
Clarke glared at her as she took the soap, and pulled the rag from her head. She scrubbed herself quickly, but gently, mindful of her injuries. She winced when she got to her hair. Her shoulder protested when she reached up to scrub it, the bump where the Grounder had struck her earlier throbbing in time with her shoulder. Strong hands stopped her. She looked up at the brown woman in inquiry.
"Cleanliness is important, but there is no sense in aggrivating your injuries. It will do the children no good if they see you've come to harm. Allow me to assist you."
Clarke strongly suspected that she resembled a stunned ox. She closed her mouth with an audible click and nodded, turning her back to the woman. She bit back a groan as strong fingers combed through her hair, massaging the soap into her scalp. Clarke wished she knew how to describe the scent. Delicately floral, but with a hint of something else.
"Why did you not mention that you had dislocated your shoulder?" She asked as she worked the soap into a lather.
"Partially dislocated." Clarke corrected absently. "It's not that bad. The children were more important."
Unseen, the woman nodded, satisfied with the answer. "I will set it for you after you are clean."
"Thank you, but why...?" Clarke left the question unfinished, not wanting to aggravate the woman.
"For the children, seeing that you have been treated well will put them at ease. It also pays part of their debt. You fed them, we feed you. You treated their injuries, so I will treat yours. You cleaned them, clothed them, so now we do so for you. We will not have our children be indebted to branwada."
Clarke didn't know what branwada meant, but she highly doubted it was a compliment. She accepted the insult, once again allowing the hatred to slide over her. I can't blame them for hating me, not after what I've done. Not after Finn... She shoved the thought aside, forcing her mind to focus on the present. "Oh."
The woman rinsed her hair and began scrubbing it again. "Your hair is filthy, as if it hasn't been properly washed in weeks." She scolded, scowling as she worked.
Clarke grimaced at the reminder. She had showered at Mount Weather, but then had come the river... And the mud... There had been a bucket of hot water to clean up with at Camp Jaha, but that had been days ago. "Don't remind me." She groaned.
The hands stilled. "You're joking."
Clarke shook her head slightly.
"When...?"
Clarke thought about it. "Depends... Does a bucket of hot water count?"
There was a pause, then the hands continued their motions. "You're not joking. No wonder you paused earlier. Cleanliness must be a shock to your system."
Clarke opened her mouth to object to the jab, then paused, thinking about it. "...true."
Her hair was rinsed, then scrubbed a third time before the woman was satisfied. She was given a small cloth pouch which she was instructed to soak in the water, crush, and scrub her teeth with. She did so, peppermint and rosemary freshening her breath as the cloths roughness cleaned her teeth. She was helped out of the pool and given a rag to dry herself with. She was startled to see that her clothes were missing, everything from her boots to her undergarments. "Um."
Her guard and helper noticed her confusion. "Your garments are filthy. They stink. They will be left in the river overnight and hung to dry in the morning. You are to wear these for now." She pointed to a pile of clothes that had been left on a rock close to a torch. "But first, your arm."
Clarke tried not to brace herself, keeping her breathing steady. She stared into the flame of a torch and let it lull her into a light trance. She grunted as her guard forced the bone back into place, rotating her arm with a grimace to determine that it had been set right. "Thanks. I think."
"You're welcome." The words were dryer than cheese.
Clarke limped over to the pile of clothing. She picked up the bra, then paused as the woman handed her a pouch. She took it and saw it held a fine white powder within. She looked up at the woman, head tilted in question.
"It is rock salt infused with lavender oil. Rub it under your arms."
"Oh. Thank you." Clarke did as she was told, then closed the pouch and moved to give it back to the Grounder.
The Grounder raised a hand, refusing to take it. "It is a gift. The Commander insisted."
For her or for me? Clarke wondered, bemused, finally putting on the bra. She rebandged her thigh, then picked up the panties and sighed, looking for a spot that wasn't too dirty so she could sit down. A hand at her arm stopped her.
"There is little point in getting clean if you are just going to get dirty again. I will assist you."
Clark hesitated.
"There is no shame in accepting help when it is needed." The warrior assured.
That decided her. "Thank you." She said. She held on to the woman's forearm for support as she stepped into the underwear, looking up at the clouds, blue in the twilight, as the woman bent to pull them up. Then she repeated the process with the pants.
Clarke strongly suspected that the pants had been scavenged from the drop ship, but held her tongue. They were blue skinny jeans which she favoured, and were incredibly comfortable. Form fitting, but loose enough to allow for movement. A loose grey shirt was next, long sleeves almost as form fitting as the pants, followed by a long black leather vest which covered her to mid thigh. The clothing fit like it had been made for her. Idly she commented on this as her guard indicated for her to sit on the stone.
"You could say they were." She said as she wrapped a bandage around Clarke's injured foot, giving it some support. She then pulled a pair of soft socks on to Clarke's feet. "They were made for a girl very close in size to you. Then she started training as a warrior and they no longer fit."
Did she just imply that I'm fat? Clarke wondered, but held her silence.
Durable black leather boots followed. The woman reached into a pouch at her waist and withdrew a wide toothed comb carved from wood. Flowers and vines had been carved on the grip. "You can keep this as well. I no longer have any need for it."
Clarke sighed, wincing slightly as the woman efficiently combed her hair. She took a lock of Clarke's hair and separated it into three smaller sides, weaving them together until a single braid was hanging at one side of her face. She tied it off with a leather thong. A soft black leather headband was tied around Clarke's head, completing the look. Clarke fingered the braid.
"The braid marks you as a guest. It will put the children at ease." She said in answer to the implied question.
Clarke stood. The woman handed her a belt, a pouch similar to the one she had hung from it. Small rings lined the belt, small leather pouches hung from five of them.
Clarke raised an eyebrow. "Another gift?"
"On behalf of my village. The children insisted. All of us have this." She motioned to the smaller pouches. "The children picked these, each one has a gift from them that they felt would be useful." She smirked. "Don't worry, it is not all deodorant, though that had been their first choice."
She pointed at the first of the little pouches. "Bandages, herbs and cloth for your teeth, soap, powder that fights infection, and herbs for a tea which will help brake fever." She explained, pointing to each pouch in turn. "They put a lot of thought into it."
Upon hearing that it had come from the children who had briefly been in her care, Clarke accepted the gift. She had only known them for hours, barely a day, but the gift touched her. She put it on so the large pouch hung at her side and the woman showed her how to tie the pouches to the rings in such a way that they would be secure, but accessible in a hurry. Clarke learned quickly, tying the bag of scented salt to a ring and putting the comb in the pouch.
The woman stepped back to look at her. "You're no warrior, but you'll do. Come."