A/N: I hope you're enjoying the story so far! Just wanted to thank you all for your support. I know that the story has been developing slowly up until this point, but I promise you that things are going to get VERY interesting in the next couple of chapters. You'll love it. I promise. Thanks once again for all of your feedback and I hope you continue to enjoy!
Clarke woke some time later to the smell of cooked meat in the air and a throbbing in her head. A hand laid itself gently on her shoulder and the grogginess started to dissipate. She groaned as she reluctantly sat up, removing her blanket and rubbing the weariness out of her eyes. Once her vision returned to normal she saw Niylah sitting across from her with food sat out for both of them. Glancing down at the bowl, Clarke's mouth watered. Rice and what she assumed were potatoes all topped a juicy looking strip of meat. It looked like the best food Clarke had eaten since the Ark. "Thank you," Clarke said, breaking the silence.
Niylah nodded as she began to eat her meal. "I trust you slept well?" Niylah questioned between bites of her food.
No. "Yes," Clarke lied. The memory of Samael was still fresh in her mind. Her hand lifted up to feel the spot where she had been kicked. It was less painful than she thought it would be, barely even noticeable. What the hell did he want? "Where is Janos?" She wondered how Samael could have gotten into the hut again. He must have snuck in when I was out with Niylah. The thought that she didn't notice him at first disturbed her. She would have been dead if he wanted to kill her.
"We must all sleep at some point," Niylah replied with a slight smile on her face. "He has gone to rest for the day. You will be with me for today."
Clarke nodded as she took her first taste of her meal. Her taste buds roared their approval and Clarke let out a slightly embarrassing moan of satisfaction. She had never tasted something so good in her life. "This is so good," Clarke complimented. "Who made it?"
"I did," Niylah stated. "It's a common recipe among Azgeda. I'm glad you like it." She set her bowl to the side and clasped her hands together as she talked to Clarke. "I have duties to attend to, but I would like you to see the camp yourself. Last night you got interrupted. Hopefully this time goes better." Niylah turned around and picked up a parcel that she had been sitting in front of and placed it at Clarke's lap. "After you are satisfied with your tour, you will deliver this to Janos. We all have our parts to play, this will be yours for today. Take it with you while you explore."
Clarke looked over the package placed in front of her. Picking it up, it had some weight to it. "What is it?" And why do I have to deliver it? Niylah perplexed Clarke, but so long as she could be Helen she didn't care. No harm had come to her yet, except for Samael. Clarke felt the trust in Niylah begin to add up, though she still remained cautious.
Niylah shook her head, gently placing a hand on the parcel and urging Clarke to put it down. "You will find out when you deliver it to Janos. For now, leave it unopened." She pulled out a couple sets of bandages from her satchel along with a canteen and set them on the ground. "I would like to change your bandages before I go, if that is alright with you, Helen?"
Clarke nodded and held out her injured arm first. She watched as Niylah gently unwrapped the bandage and looked at her damaged skin. The wounds were healing much nicer than Clarke thought they would. Niylah was good at her craft. Looking closer, she saw some type of ointment on the inside of the bandages Niylah had pulled out. "Niylah, what's on those bandages?"
"A salve to help calm the skin and help with healing," Niylah explained, unscrewing the cap on the canteen. "I'm going to use some alcohol to keep the wound clean and then apply the dressing."
Clarke nodded and braced herself when Niylah poured the liquid over her arm. Her arm stung immediately but the pain faded quickly. She felt at ease as Niylah gently held her arm and firmly wrapped the bandage around her forearm. Once the bandage was secure, Clarke gave her arm a quick squeeze and made sure she had enough range of motion on her wrist. "That's perfect, thank you," Clarke complimented. She remembered her leg and the fact that it hadn't been changed in a while. She hoped everything looked alright. "I also have a wound on my leg that needs changing."
"You're welcome, Helen," Niylah smiled, grabbing another bandage next to her. "I'll change your leg dressing and then you will be good to go."
Clarke, not wanting to look at the aftermath of her cauterization again, rolled to her side and pulled down her pants enough to expose the old wrap. She heard a gasp of breath from Niylah and immediately became worried. "What's wrong? Did the wound reopen? Is it infected?" I don't feel any pain, and I would have felt an infection by now.
Niylah remained paused for a few moments before spurring into action again. "N-no..." she replied. "The wound looks good... I was just... caught off guard by the sight."
Clarke felt an odd sense of satisfaction that her cut looked ugly. It was an outward representation of how she felt inside about who she had become. Niylah's hands lacked their usual grace and Clarke almost gave in to temptation to look at the mark on her leg. It must really be bad.
It didn't take long before the wound was cleaned and covered with a fresh bandage. After the finishing touches were done Niylah quickly gathered her supplies and hurried out of the door. "Remember your duties, Helen," she said as she exited.
Clarke rolled back onto her butt and looked down at the fresh bandage. She approved of Niylah's work and reached down to her pants when she paused. Embarrassment flooded her as she saw that she left herself completely exposed the entire time she had her pants down. Niylah's behavior... oh god. So many questions poured into Clarke's head at once. Did she look? Of course she looked, your ass was in her face and you had no underwear. Perhaps she looked in a different direction the moment she saw what I did. Her cheeks burned when she pulled up her pants back to her waist. She hoped Niylah would forget all about it and never bring it up again.
Clarke downed the rest of her meal and picked up the parcel Niylah gave her. "Well, time to explore," Clarke said aloud. Hopefully with my ass in my pants this time. Clarke waited for the wave of embarrassment to subside before opening the door to a fresh morning sun. Her orders were to explore the camp and she intended to do just that. Picking a random direction, she took off to see what sites were there for her to see.
What felt like hours passed while Clarke explored the refugee camp. She expected to see miserable people barely interacting with the world around them and keeping to themselves. Instead, she found groups of Grounders laughing, telling stories, meditating, and merely living. It was a refreshing sight to her eyes.
The sound of metal clashing together filled the air as she reached her last stop in the camp. A large clearing was before her. Several Grounders were gathered in the clearing, attacking each other with swords. The sight reminded her of the training at Camp Jaha before they marched to the Mountain. She thought back to Octavia and the way she refused to give up, even with the beating she took while doing so. Thinking of her friend brought a smile back to Clarke's face. I wish I had half the strength she does, Clarke lamented.
As she drew closer, Clarke became mesmerized by their movements. Attacks, counters, blocks, and punches were all delivered with precision and force, though never lethal. Anytime one was beaten the other would help them up again and continue the fight. To her, they all looked powerful. Every single one of them in control of their mind and body.
Some fought in pairs while others trained in groups, taking turns practicing different scenarios. She watched one particular group that looked to be practicing prisoner rescue. The scenario started and it seemed to be going good at first for the rescuers, getting the prisoner out with relative ease. However, more fighters joined in and soon the rescuers were severely outnumbered. One of the two running with the prisoner stopped and turned to face the attackers. He was clearly over-matched and would die, but it looked like a stalling tactic. He lasted surprisingly long, 'taking' many of his foes with him before finally being 'struck down' by several Grounders. The sacrifice must have worked as Clarke saw the prisoner and remaining rescuer celebrating their victory. The sight brought a smile to her face.
"You like what you see?"
Clarke jumped as Janos appeared at her side. She tried to hide her reaction the best she could but knew Janos had seen it. Once calmed down, she nodded. "They train to get stronger," Clarke observed. Truthfully it was a guess, but she didn't want to let on to her ignorance of Grounder ways if she could help it.
"They train to heal," Janos replied. "It gives them goals. Focus, strength, resolve. That is what they work on." Janos waved his hand across the clearing. "All stolen by Mountain Men. They came weak and broken. They are now strong and whole."
Clarke found herself imagining being out there on the field, sword in hand and practicing with the Grounders. She knew that her skill would never match them, though she still hoped to get the same focus and control. If I practice enough I might even be able to catch that bitch of a Commander off-guard. The thought started to bubble up a rage inside of her, though she was able to clamp down on it before it became all-consuming. Clarke had seen what rage had done to Finn, how it tore him apart. She couldn't let that happen to herself.
"You are not ready," Janos said, catching Clarke by surprise. Janos turned and walked away from the clearing back in the direction of Clarke's shack. "Yu ste kwelen."
Clarke recognized the phrase and instantly became defensive. "I am not weak," Clarke retorted. Someone who was weak could not have caused so much death, made so many hard choices. Clarke may be many things, but she knew that weak wasn't among them.
Janos gave no indication that he heard her as he kept walking. His silence was maddening to Clarke and she found herself wishing for Niylah to be there. Niylah at least attempted to have conversations; she had barely even spoken to Janos.
Clarke shifted the package she had been carrying since she left the shack. Her arms were tired but she didn't dare show it. She wasn't going to give Janos the satisfaction of showing any weakness. I'm supposed to give this to him, but he showed no interest in it when he saw it. Clarke wondered if Niylah gave her the wrong package by mistake, but she figured there must be some reason for their actions so let it slide for now. I'll just give it to him when we reach the shack.
It wasn't long before they arrived back at the shack. Clarke's arms were dying and she desperately wanted to give Janos the package. Relief washed over her when Janos spun around and looked at her expectantly. "Niylah said to give this to you after I was done walking around the camp," Clarke explained, holding out the package.
Janos nodded and took the package from her hands and opened it. Clarke eagerly watched as he pulled out a long strip of folded cloth. Anticipation built as she wondered what would come after the cloth. Instead, confusion took its place when Janos set the box down. "This is for you," Janos said, extending the cloth towards her. "All who stay here are given one."
Clarke slowly took the cloth from Janos' hands and felt that there was something inside it as soon as her hands wrapped around it. Unfolding the layers, Clarke saw a sword inside a scabbard with straps to carry it with. She looked up to Janos to confirm this was real and he nodded. Clarke unsheathed the blade and looked it over. The handle was well made, wrapped in black leather and shaped well enough to allow her hand to feel comfortable gripping it. The rest left much to be desired. The blade appeared dull and the metal looked faded. She doubted the sword could cut a banana. Still, she appreciated the gesture. "Thank you," Clarke said, sheathing the sword.
"You will fix and sharpen the blade," Janos commanded. "When you are done, you will bring it to me. I will send you back to do it again." Clarke felt insulted that he didn't think she could do it, though she knew he was probably right. He pulled out a stone and placed it in her hand. "You will use this stone. I will know if you don't. Niylah is busy, work the metal until she returns."
Clarke nodded and entered the shack with determination. She would prove Janos wrong. Inside she sat down and unsheathed the sword, laying it across her lap. She inspected the metal and found a place to start working. Her fingers wrapped around the stone and began rubbing the stone against the blade. This will be over in no time, Clarke thought. Besides, sharpening and polishing a sword is hardly the most difficult thing I've done. All of her focus was directed at the steel in front of her, losing herself in the sounds of rock against metal. She would have this done in no time.
Clarke threw the sharpening stone in a fit of rage and slammed her sword to the ground. This is ridiculous! She had been working on polishing the blade for what felt like hours and she couldn't even tell any changes to it. The muscles in her right arm screamed from the effort she put in and her hand was cramping from the excessive use. Embarrassment filled her when she thought back to how confident she had been in her abilities.
Clarke stood up as she rubbed at her sore arm. Niylah had not returned yet, and Clarke figured it would be any time before the woman arrived. As time went on she had began to look forward to their conversations and spending time with the woman. Being around other people reminded her of how much she missed talking to someone.
She thought back to the conversation she had with Samael about the Commander. The anger still resided within her from seeing the Heda again for the first time. Her desire to see the Commander suffer had not waned at all. I need this training if I'm going to be able to hurt her. While Clarke knew she would never be a match for the Commander, she would do her best to learn enough to gain the element of surprise. Strike when least expected to and then exact her revenge.
"I made this decision with my head, not my heart."
"That's because you never had one, you cold bitch," Clarke hissed to herself, clenching her hands into fists. The fury in her voice caught her by surprise, but she couldn't deny it felt good to give in to it. She wanted the Commander to see the turmoil she was going through and to know that she caused all of it. Whether or not the Commander ever really cared about Clarke didn't matter to her. Just another way to twist the knife, Clarke thought.
With a sigh she walked around the shack to find the polishing stone she had tossed earlier. She tried to suppress any thoughts of the Commander. Giving in to the thoughts of vengeance and rage completely was dangerous, Clarke knew. Finn had done so and went insane, ultimately leading to his death. She would get her revenge, she just had to not be stupid about it.
After a minute or two of searching she finally found the stone. She picked it up and slowly walked back to the sword she left on the ground. Just as she placed the stone next to the sword the door opened up and in walked Niylah. Clarke smiled, the negative emotions from before slowly evaporating.
"I see you opened your package," Niylah commented, sitting down and offering Clarke food once again.
Clarke took the bowl and set it on the ground before her. "Yes," she replied with a hint of frustration. She would not let Niylah know about the frustration she just felt. "I started to work on it some, but decided to stop for the night."
"We do not expect you to finish right away, Helen," Niylah replied with a smile. "Most great things are accomplished with time and dedication. Yours will come."
Clarke suddenly remembered her last interaction with Niylah and became embarrassed. She doesn't seem like she knows, but still I should apologize. "About earlier..."
Niylah held up a hand to interrupt Clarke. "There is no need for apology. I was surprised and acted poorly. It won't happen again."
Clarke shook her head, refusing to let Niylah dismiss her apology. "I should have remembered I wasn't entirely clothed," Clarke said, grasping Niylah's hand. "I put you in an awkward position. I'm sorry."
"If you must insist, I accept your apology, Helen," Niylah replied. Clarke saw the woman's eyes drift to the sword on the ground and Clarke's heart started beating faster, hoping that her failures wouldn't be noticed. "Has your stone already dried?," she asked as she pointed to the polishing stone.
Clarke did an internal face palm when she realized that the stone had to be wet for it to work. So much time wasted because of that stupid mistake. "Yes," Clarke lied. She didn't want to admit that she had tried so hard and failed miserably. "I look forward to finishing it." Truth be told she was scared of the training she would receive after the sword was polished and cleaned.
Niylah's smile showed approval in Clarke's actions and they both began to eat their food. The rest of the time was spent in a comfortable silence, content to just enjoy the meal and each other's company. They would have plenty of time to talk while Clarke was in training with this new sword, or at least she hoped they would. Excitement filled Clarke and she couldn't wait to see what was in store next, a refreshing change from the damaged person she was after the Mountain. Perhaps she would be able to heal after all.