Hello! (Please don't throw rocks at me!) I know it's been several months since I've updated and I apologize. School is not for the faint of heart.

Thanks to you all who are hanging in there; and welcome newcomers to Faya Gada! It's a fanfic I've been wanting to write for years. But I didn't realize school, work, and internships would actually be an obstacle with writing for me, especially since it's so fun! I just hope I actually get to write out this puppy for you guys…Just don't give up on me!

Anyway, it's finally here! Just a few points:

1. Shout out to alicelouise'x for the awesome review! She pointed out that Octavia has been particularly absent from Bellamy's POV and that's something I got lazy about. I had some scenes and POVs planned out, but I haven't completely settled on how I want to portray Octavia and her relationship to her brother. I may still do it since Bellamy and the kids are still on the Ark. But I completely forgot about my girl (she's one of my fave characters). Out of site, out of mind I guess . Thanks for pointing it out lol.

2. The majority of this chapter is from someone else's point of view (wink). So Micah's true thoughts are shielded. I'll probably write more on it in one of the later chapters.

3. Just a reminder that this story is AU. I will try to keep many elements from the show but anything is up for grabs at this point. Throw your timelines and plot points out the window!

Recap: Micah and team left the Ark.

Warning: strong language ahead.

Faya Gada | 14

Everything hurt. There was a heated throbbing of her side; she could feel air hit open flesh. She involuntarily shivered but wasn't entirely sure of what the reasoning was. One moment she felt fine, the next her body was on fire while other parts like her left hand lacked any feeling. The air was both sticky and light. It almost felt like she didn't need to breathe. But then she realized she definitely still needed air and inhaled though all she could do was cough with the arid fumes swimming around her.

Her vision was blurred and yet she could make out certain shapes. Like…a tree?

"H-hello? Eh-ellioht? Elliot?" her words were garbled and struggled to leave her mouth.

Instinctively, she licked her lips to rectify this, but it was like all the moisture in her body had evaporated away with the fumes of smoke. Suddenly, she was having difficulty breathing. It was like dust got caught in her throat and she was now fighting an invisible enemy. Her lips twitched as she tried to voice herself once more to realize her lack of control.

Then a shadow was there touching her, the voice low and gravely. She would remember this voice in time to come, how it soothed her into a flaccid slumber. The voice and some astonishing warmth enveloped her.

She didn't remember closing her eyes.

When she came to, she was lying somewhere damp and hard, and that was about as descriptive as she could get as she was unable to open her eyes. Her head felt swollen, or at least extra heavy. The pain that was there had seized.

Slowly, she propped herself up on her elbows to relieve the pressure on her stomach and almost hissed at the rock biting into her.

Wait—rock!

She furrowed her brow and attempted, slowly, to open her eyes. It was a struggle but it helped that wherever she was, lacked light. Looking down, she sniffed and recognized something…earthy, as her father would call it. The rock was long and jagged with patches of green stuff around it.

Is this…moss? She tried recalling those years of Earth Science but her mind kept wandering from place to place. Where am I? Is that dirt? What if I get an infection? Is there food, supplies? Am I decent right now? I'm thirsty.

When she shifted, she realized there was some sort of cloth thrown onto her back. She tried to turn her head and see what it was, but pain immediately rippled down her spine and she faced forward again, cursing.

Then she was suddenly aware of footsteps behind her and reacted on instinct. She grabbed a sharp piece of rock (was it even considered rock?) and pulled her body to the side. Her hand let go of the weapon with a flick of the wrist and it flew near the mass's jugular. A hand came up and stopped it while taking a step back into the shadows. Micah then let out a groan of pain as she was now on her previously hurting side. She felt something warm and sticky, yet again. But she refused to have her back turned.

"Really?" It was the voice again. Gravely and rough. Micah just sat there heavily breathing as her vision swam a little. "Are you happy now?" gesturing to her opened wound.

When they took a step forward, Micah tensed though the pain made her wince. They dropped the rock and raised their hands.

"I'm not going to hurt you." Who is this stranger and why are they talking like that? "Do you enjoy bleeding out?"

It was hard to see exactly who was speaking as her vision was blurred. There was a dark, hulking mass. Probably male, with…long hair? Micah managed to twist her body around—painfully so. She carelessly propped herself up against a nearby boulder. Her hair was loose, and fell across her front and shoulders. And that's when she realized something was more than wrong. "Don't come any closer!"

She gasped. If her breath could get any heavier…The man's steps halted and it sounded like there was a growl.

"…So you're a warrior."

She definitely understood that. The hulking outline tilted its head before moving. She could see him reaching for something. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," Micah rushed out. He resumed what he was doing, which to Micah looked like a threat. "Don't!" The man seemed to listen to her this time. His back slowly straightened and he stood with his weight on one side. "Think I'm stupid? I can spot a weapon a mile away."

"Huh. Well apparently you can't spot a lil water." The smug bastard. Her brown orbs found what he was talking about on his hip.

"Move slowly," she locked him with a glare while licking her dry lips. "Then toss it here." The longer she was awake, the more lucid she became.

"You could ask nicely." His face was slowly clearing up. She could now identify a prominent nose and some facial hair. And were those scars?

"Me…nice?" She gulped to rid of that pesky dust in her throat. Damn, dehydration was a bitch. "I'm parched, here."

"Parched…" He seemed to ponder that word; it was foreign on his tongue but not forgotten. "You're a little more than that right now." There was that gravel again.

He lazily stepped forward with something in his hand and got closer. Micah instinctively went rigid and tried to warn him. He reached for her with massive hands, but one of her hands came up to block him, gripping with little force. He rolled his eyes and used his other hand to gently push her backward. She scrambled backwards in a pouf, momentarily forgetting where she was, her side ever stinging.

"Ow!"

"You weren't being very nice," he replied simply, tossing the water next to her head before stalking back over to the fire pit.

He hadn't planned on babysitting a foreigner today. There was a meal to catch. From the corner of his eye, he watched her attempt to readjust with a bloodletting glare. The bronzed girl with wild hair was far from what he thought he'd be dealing with, not that he should've expected anything ordinary from someone that seemed to fall from the sky.

He'd found her amidst the fire and smolder, helpless and in shock. He knew he probably should've waited for the fires to die down, but he didn't want to risk being seen by anyone. By terms of his banishment, he was to never be seen in Ice country. But he knew it would be a few days before his mother would send anyone up here to investigate. This was his one chance.

And he was glad her took it after seeing what he saw. He found a bloodied, ragged woman limping around aimlessly—calling out to something—a heavy piece of metal lodged into her side. Her hair long and curly, a tangled mess. She obviously had suffered significant damage, but it wasn't safe for him to go in. Things were combusting and that smoke would most definitely damage his lungs.

But the woman, surrounded by all that fire and rage, was wearing clothes similar to something he'd seen before. Like something out of a legend. Like Pramheda. His thoughts were interrupted when he saw her collapse, probably from lack of oxygen. He rushed forward. Surely, she was hallucinating. Then she tried to remove the metal from her side, but luckily he got to her in time to stop her.

And here they were. Him starving, minding an ungrateful, sky girl. Fortunately, she hadn't realized she was naked waist-up yet. Judging from her recent judgements of him, that wasn't going to be pleasant.

"Where the hell am I?" she asked, angrily tossing back the water. She figured she would die from dehydration before anything else and gulped it down.

"Where do you think you are?"

"Can't you just answer the question?" she countered. Again, he couldn't refrain from rolling his eyes at her immature response and instead, elected to remain silent and poked at the fire. "Excuse me, you didn't answer me."

Nothing. She growled in frustration and threw the newly emptied canteen. It was aimed at his head, but she was pretty sure her side had been septic while she was out. It only made it halfway across the room, and the stranger snickered. So she decided to forgo her radiating side, and threw a small, nearby rock with all her wrath. This one went for his temple. He yelled something (probably in whatever language he'd been speaking) and looked at her with murder in his eyes, his hair whipping to the side.

"Little. girl…"

"Where. am. I?" she shot back, her teeth biting.

The crazed look that crossed his face should've frightened her, but she was too concerned with getting her way at this point.

"What is wrong with you, huh?" His eyebrow probably could've cut her. "You're lying there, helpless, bleeding, and naked," he slowly stood up menacingly, "hungry and sick. And all you care to do right now is pester your rescuer?" The fire illuminated his face with orange. "…with a rock?"

Panic rose in her throat for a second, but it dissipated. "Tell me where I am. Now."

His glare intensified and she knew she won.

"…No."

What?! He said…no…?

Obviously the confusion was apparent on her face because he stalked back over to the fire, glower on his face. "Learn some fucking manners," before muttering to himself, "Chon does em teng em ste [1]."

1 – "Chon em teng em ste?" I made up the word "teng" which means "think". Translation: "Who does she think she is?"

Short chapter (sorry). Next few chapters, I plan to catch up with the Ark as well as the rest of the team (and make the chapters longer). We've got lots in store for us.

Leave a review! I actually read and appreciate them. *Constructive* criticism welcome.