She heard the shouting the second the refugee camp came into view. Several pointed and waved, cheering her name with a frivolous passion. Others were content to wait on her. The journey from Polis had been a tiring one, but Lexa nevertheless summoned a smile at the sight of her people. The looks on their faces and the sheer amount of tents reassured her that taking the Mountain Men's deal was the correct thing for her people. As much as she cared for Clarke, Skaikru were not Grounders. The duty to her people always came first.
In the center of camp, Lexa dismounted her horse and gave the reins to one of her traveling companions to be groomed and fed. So many faces, she thought. Most had looked half dead when she they emerged from the giant metal door in the mountain, and now most of them look like they have found life again. Her eyes scanned them all, seeking the woman she came here for. Disappointment came when no spec of blonde was to be found on her first look.
Lincoln had brought news of Clarke's departure to her personally. The revelation had upset her in many ways. She had opened up to the sky girl, only for circumstance to force her to cast that aside for her duty. She knew that the betrayal was part of Clarke running away, but she felt there was more to it than that. Rumors swirled about the downfall of the Mountain Men, but she paid them no mind. She knew Clarke's pain well. It was the kind only someone responsible for the lives of others could feel. She detested the way the blonde handled it. It made her blood boil at the mere thought of it. Lexa would never abandon her people like that.
All around her several faces drifted to and from view, but the one staring back was never the one she wanted. Plenty of them had black, brown, and even red hair, but not the light blonde hair Clarke sported. She's not here, she thought. And why would she be? Clarke had abandoned her own people, why would she want to be around others? A woman walked forward and Lexa recognized her as one of the healers in charge of the camp. "Niylah," Lexa said, stopping before the woman.
"Heda," Niylah answered back. Annoyance grew as Lexa watched the woman lazily bow in respect. "What brings you here early? We did not expect you for another two weeks."
"The sky girl, Clarke, has ran away," Lexa answered. Over a week had passed since Clarke left according to Lincoln. She admired the girl's strength, but knew that she wouldn't survive alone for long. Clarke's foolishness infuriated her. Was I wrong to think so highly of her? "Her mother asked for our help in the search." She left out the anger the message held. The Skaikru had proven to be very vocal and let their emotions get the better of them. She would give them time to adjust to their ways, so long as the violence stopped. Her patience did have limits, and the Skaikru seemed to know how to test that.
"And how has the search gone?" Niylah asked. Lexa noted a slight unease about the woman, but it was very well hidden. It made Lexa curious.
"She was spotted near the Mountain Men's waterfall by some of your people," Lexa replied. She had visited the place herself and saw all the signs that a Skaikru had been there. Fires, broken twigs and tracks that were easy to follow. She had been less than pleased when it was the Azgeda who found her. When they explained that they lost her trail in the Reaper caves she was livid. "They lost her in the caves."
Niylah frowned. "I hope for her safety. Those tunnels are evil." Lexa could not help but agree. For so long the Reapers had tormented her people, but no longer. Even without the threat of them, the tunnels still gripped many in fear.
"I hoped to find her here," Lexa stated, more talking to herself than to Niylah. A small weight tugged at her chest and she did her best to ignore it. You did what was right for your people. You did your duty. Skaikru hiding out in a refugee camp would stick out sorely like a child on the battlefield. If Clarke was here, others would have told her by now.
The Azgeda shook her head. "We have not seen her, Heda. If she comes, we will send word."
Lexa nodded as she scanned the faces around her. All of them stood off in the distance, admiring her for who she was to them. Their love was a gift and a curse to her. She began to turn away when a lone woman with red hair sat by the fire, turned away from the commotion. Something seemed off about her, but she could not place it. "Who is she?" Lexa demanded to know. It was not often one of her people ignored her in such a fashion.
"A survivor of the Mountain, Heda," Niylah replied in a concerned tone. "The horrors still weigh heavy on her heart. I have only just got her to leave her tent. Forgive her rudeness, she is just not ready to return to her previous life."
Lexa nodded. She could see the pain in the tightness in which the red-haired woman sat. Cases like her was the reason she ordered this place to be made. "You have done well here, Niylah." Clarke is not here. I should not linger. I am needed elsewhere. "I wish I could stay, but I am needed in Polis." She still felt unsure about Niylah, but her attention was needed elsewhere. As much as she cared for all of her people, she could not spend the time with them she desired. Tensions were building with the Skaikru and some of the clans were not happy about the events of Ton DC. She would set them straight. She would just need time to do so.
"We still have much work to do," Niylah said, giving a much more respectable bow as Lexa called for her horse. "I wish you safe travels." Lexa gave the signal and her horse was brought to her immediately.
Lexa did not utter another word as she mounted her horse and took off in the direction of Polis. Her companions were not far behind her and it was not long before the fires of the refugee camp were nothing more than flickers in the distance. Thoughts of Clarke filled her mind and she cursed herself for such weakness. She did not realize how much she wanted to find Clarke in that camp. She hated herself for allowing the blonde girl to have so much control over her emotions.
The cool night wind blew into her face as she thought back to the deal she had made with the Mountain Men.
"Leave now and we will release all your people. No harm will come to them." the man dressed in a suit of white had told her.
"Why should I trust a Mountain Man? You have terrorized my people for years!" She still remembered the fury she held towards the weak man before her. "What is to stop me from taking my revenge here and now?" She had held the end of her sword to the edge of the man's alien looking suit, begging him to give her any excuse to push it a couple inches further.
"Because none of your people have to die here," the man had pleaded. "We don't need them anymore."
The deal had been too good to pass up. The idea of fighting to save Skaikru had already been unpopular with some of the ranks. She could not pass the opportunity to get all of her people out safely, even if it meant sacrificing Clarke's and her friends. Her only regret was the pain she caused Clarke. Lexa shook her head, pushing the painful thoughts out of her head. She tightened the grip on her reins as she slipped back into the comfortable role of the Commander and rode on into the night.
Clarke sank to the ground next to the tent she had been hiding behind. Her hands shook as she tried to control her breathing. Niylah had told her to stay out of sight and keep quiet, but that proved to be a harder task than she thought. Initially, she could only hear the roar of the crowd when the Commander arrived. The masses had obscured her view and she was able to keep a bottle on her emotions. When they moved to the campfire, however, she had a clear view of the Commander and could hear everything she was saying. Every word that came out of the Commander's mouth had eroded at her resolve.
If I had my knife, I would have gladly shown myself, Clarke thought. The temptation had grown the longer the Commander stood there, completely off-guard. She had left before Clarke could gather the courage, or insanity, to attack the Heda. Never in her life had she felt such rage before. She wasn't sure whether to be more frightened of the feeling, or for the fact that a small part of her was excited by it.
Her head swam as she felt the remnants of adrenaline leaving her system, and her limbs turned to jelly. Niylah found her not too long after and the woman swiftly helped Clarke to her feet. A grumbling in her stomach urged her to get food. Niylah must have heard it because the woman lead Clarke back to her shack. She plopped down on the ground and nodded her head in thanks. Niylah disappeared for a moment, returning with two bowls of food.
Clarke grabbed her bowl and was surprised when Niylah sat down opposite of her. "Thanks," Clarke said, her voice still a bit shaky.
"Does the Heda upset you?" Niylah asked, looking straight at her.
Clarke took a couple spoonfuls of the beef stew before answering. I have to be careful here. Any slipups and she could reveal her identity. "She... is intimidating," Clarke settled on, trying her best to make a convincing lie. "Even though she saved us from the Mountain, she reminds me of what happened there." There was truth to that statement, allowing Clarke to let the lie flow from her tongue. She doesn't need to know the Commander actually left me for dead.
"Quite understandable," Niylah replied after a few bites of her food. "The Heda does that to some, even in her own clan. I am sorry her presence stirred up unpleasant memories, Helen. She was not due here for a couple of weeks."
Clarke tightened the grip on her bowl. "What did she want with... Clarke?" She had almost slipped and gave her identity away, but she was able to catch herself before making a sound.
"I do not know," Niylah replied. Clarke could see confusion in the woman's face. "She said the Skaikru asked her to help search for Clarke. Perhaps she agreed to ease tensions with the Skaikru. I am not sure what her motives are."
Neither do I, Clarke thought. The admission caught her a little by surprise. She didn't expect a Grounder to so openly question the Commander. Clarke could sense Niylah's unease about the situation, which made her concerned. Why does the Commander want me so badly? Is she disappointed the Mountain Men didn't finish us off? Clarke's brows furrowed as she scooted her finished bowl to the side. "How bad are things with the Skaikru?" Clarke hoped they didn't do anything stupid.
Niylah shook her head. "I truly do not know. I have heard rumors of angry words and glaring looks, but nothing confirmed." Clarke was relieved to hear they were at least not getting violent, from what Niylah was saying. The woman shook her head and grabbed both bowls as she stood up. "It is late, and you need sleep. At dawn you will help me around the camp. From now on, you earn your food."
"What about my backpack? My knife?" Clarke already knew the answer, but she figured asking couldn't hurt.
"You will get those back when you are healed," Niylah offered. She placed the bowls down by the door and pulled out a fresh bandage, moving back to Clarke.
Clarke looked back down at her arm and had completely forgotten about the injury. She offered out her arm and Niylah gingerly removed the wrap from her arm. Clarke assessed the damage to her arm and thankfully it didn't look like it would scar. Still, that didn't stop her from wincing once she saw the damage without blood covering her arm. She didn't say a word as Niylah gently wrapped her arm in a fresh bandage. The woman never once raised her gaze from Clarke's wounded arm. Once the bandage was fastened Clarke flexed her forearm and felt satisfied with the feel of it all. "Thank you," she said.
"You are welcome, Helen." Niylah smiled and gathered her dirty bandage and the bowls. The brunette exited shortly after without a word, leaving Clarke alone again.
Clarke grabbed her blanket and drew it close to her, enjoying the warmth it brought her. Seeing the Commander had shaken her, she was not ready for that encounter. She knew the next time she saw the Commander she would be much less reserved. I'm coming for you, bitch. With nothing left to do, Clarke settled in on the floor and closed her eyes, drifting off into the easiest sleep she had since she left.
Clarke shot up from underneath her blanket, heart hammering and breaths coming short and fast. Disoriented, she looked around to make sense of where she was. Several moments passed before she could make out the features of the shack in the dark. She exhaled slowly to try and control her breathing and rested her head on her hands. Another dream,she thought. She had been in Mount Weather again, back in the control room. Instead of herself, Monty, and Bellamy being in there, the entirety of the Arkers had stood there and watched her exterminate the Mountain Men again.
The constant nightmares were beginning to take their toll on her. The only place she had gotten decent sleep had been at the dam and she had been half starved while there. Constant exhaustion plagued her, never being able to get more than a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. This is miserable.
A chill filled the air as Clarke noticed the candles were no longer lit. She shivered as she drew her blanket closer to her chest. Sleep temporarily robbed from her, Clarke propped herself up against one of the walls. Even though the Commander was long gone, seeing her still shook Clarke.
"You really hate the Heda, don't you Clarke?" A familiar voice called out.
Clarke screamed as she focused in the direction the voice was coming from. Near the entrance stood the man that had attacked her. He stood garbed in a cloak, colored black like a crow's feather, twirling the knife he had once attacked her with. Her heart pounded as the door to the shack burst open, Janos stepping through the entrance.
"Helen?" Janos asked, just inside the door.
Clarke's eyes drifted to the man hidden by the door. He now had his knife raised and shook his head. "I'm fine..." Clarke replied, her voice shaky at best. "It was just a nightmare." She tried to sound as reassuring as possible. Janos and Niylah had been kind to her. She didn't want their blood on her hands. For a second, Clarke thought he didn't believe her. Please, just leave!
Janos nodded and placed his hand over his heart. "May you find peace, Helen." Janos turned heel and exited the shack, closing the door behind her.
Clarke didn't allow herself to relax. The man who attacked her previously still was in the room with her and very much armed. "Here to finish the job?" she asked in a hushed tone, not wanting to bring Janos back into any danger.
The man sheathed his knife and moved closer to Clarke with a lighthearted laugh. "Quite the opposite," the man said. "I fear I was rather harsh the last time we spoke. It's clear to me that you are suffering much more than I could ever make you. I have no reason to harm you now." The man stopped a couple feet from where she laid on the ground, staring at her with a piercing gaze.
Clarke sat, frozen in place. If she had the courage she could have attacked him and have Janos running in to capture him. He attacked me, she thought. All those horrible things he said to me and now he says it's a mistake? She didn't trust him one bit. "Why don't I believe you?"
The man smiled and clapped his hands together. "A valid point, Clarke!" He reached down and pulled out his knife. Her eyes fixated on the blade's every movement and flinched when the man flicked his wrist. She waited for the pain to come, but it never did. "Come Clarke, I said I have no reason to harm you."
Clarke shifted her gaze back to the man before her and saw the hilt of his knife facing her. Confusion washed over her as she looked at the leather grip. "Why are you giving me this?" This is some trick, it has to be.
"It is no trick, Clarke. I assure you," the man replied, almost as if he read her thoughts. "Whoever holds the knife has the power. So long as you have it, I cannot harm you."
We're about to find out. She snatched the knife and pressed it against the man's throat. Her free hand clenched onto a fistful of his hair. "Who are you?!" she angrily whispered through heavy breaths. The man didn't move a muscle at all, even with the pressure of a blade against his neck.
"You may call me Samael," the man replied calmly. Raising his hands, he gently placed them near the knife where it pressed into his neck. "I would rather not have my neck cut, if that is okay with you." She had never seen such calm in a person before. He seemed confident nothing would happen to him.
Clarke slowly inched the knife away from his throat, the weapon trembling in her hands as they shook. Her sweaty hands gripped the hilt even harder and pointed the blade at the man's face. "Why are you here, Samael? What do you want?"
"I want the same as you do, dear," he explained, a devilish grin adorning his face. "The Commander is not innocent in all this. She has caused pain, much like you. She needs to suffer as well."
"What do you want from me?!" Clarke hissed. She shook the blade in his face to let him know she wanted answers. This man had tried to kill her, and now it sounded like he wanted her help. There was no way in hell she was going to trust Samael.
"I want you to live, Clarke," Samael offered. "The Commander herself is looking for you. Does that not seem odd? You must mean something to her." Samael's grin grew larger after a pause. "Stay hidden. Make her worry, make her suffer. Then, when the time is right, you will finally show yourself and break her."
Clarke's jaw slacked as seh found herself dumbstruck at what she was hearing. None of it made any sense to her. Does he know how the Commander kis... no, used me? What the hell is he getting at? She brought her hands to her head at the confusion of it all. "What are you even talking about?" Clarke asked, frustration setting in. She was thrown off by the whole conversation. None of it made any sense to her.
"Not now," Samael said, raising to his feet and ignoring Clarke moving the knife closer to him. "I just wanted to see how you were doing and check in with you. When you are ready, I will return to discuss what needs to be done. For now, I must apologize for lying."
Clarke didn't even have time to ask what the lie was before a swift punch from Samael connected with her right cheek, sending her sprawling to the ground. She barely heard the door open as the last remnants of her consciousness faded, giving way to complete blackness.