The pair travel for most of the night and into the next morning. It is closing in on dawn by the time they reach the blockade and, by now, it's two miles behind them. The first rays of morning light are just beginning to color the horizon off in the distance. Clarke pushes her horse onward as what she is about to attempt becomes more real to her. With each beat of a hoof against the hard earth, she grows more aware of the precariousness of the situation. If this attempt fails, there will be no more trying. She knows that Lexa's hands are all but tied on the matter. If Heda wishes to prevent an all-out revolt, it is in her best interest to move against Arkadia. The fleeting thought occurs to Clarke that Lexa might have something to worry about from the rest of the ambassadors in her absence.
She's not afforded time to entertain that notion. Octavia stops her mount short and Clarke reflexively does the same. She follows the other woman's eyes to the distance where there is movement. It'll be one of the morning perimeter scouts, they both know it. Clarke wracks her brain for a way out of this situation without being seen, but she can tell by the man's behavior that they've been seen; can see it in the way he pauses in his stride as if uncertain he's spotted someone. She reaches inside her coat for the pistol that's tucked inside and out of the corner of her eye sees Octavia begin to reach for her own weapon. But…
Why isn't he aiming his weapon at them yet? A few more strides reveals the answer and sees Octavia spring from her horse in a mad dash to get closer to the stocky figure, who embraces her in turn. Clarke lets out a breath of relief as she rides closer, ushering Octavia's abandoned mare forward.
"Lincoln." Surprise colors the huskiness in her voice and she finds herself beyond elated to see a friendly face at this particular moment.
He acknowledges her with a stoic nod before redirecting his attention to Octavia, who looks somewhat less than surprised to see him as he searches her face with an appraising eye.
"Abby told me you'd be coming. I made sure I got the dawn patrol." He cocks his head toward a nearby tree. "It would be best to tie the horses here.
The trio move deliberately, being careful of any possible detection as they delve further into Skaikru territory. The outer wall of the camp looms just ahead and there is a distinct lack of opposition thus far. It's not an unusual thing, considering that the early morning hours always see Arkadia less guarded. What is suspicious is the sight of the watch towers which sit unattended.
"Where are all the guards?" Octavia wonders out loud, giving voice to Clarke's own thoughts.
Lincoln looks a bit uneasy as he glances toward the parapet. "They were needed for 'interior security'
"What does that mean?" The paranoid part of Clarke's mind wonders if Pike had actually anticipated their arrival…if these seemingly lax security measures were a strategy to draw them in. She'd do the same.
Her heart pounds in her ears and she treads forward with anxiety settling heavily on her with that thought.
Marcus sits in the corner of his cell, red eyed with sleep deprivation. The only company he has for the moment is the darkness—there are no windows. The guards let up in their harassment some time ago and he's long since stopped trying to figure out what time it is. Soon enough, a sound pierces the silence once again and he dreads the return of the guards. He can hear the heavy footfalls of the boots as an unknown person treads closer to his cell.
Light leaks into the room with the harsh sound of metal grating against metal and he shields his sensitive eyes from it. He can just make out the silhouette of a man who stands rigid with his hands behind his back in the doorway.
"Good morning, Marcus." Pike greets his opponent with a jovial attitude that Kane knows all too well hides the true nature of the beast underneath. Just as his vision begins to adjust to the light, he finds himself being hauled up to his feet roughly. Pike steps closer and his face comes into focus.
"It's time."
The guards roughly shove a bruised and weary Kane through the door and usher him through the halls. It's a long trip through the complex; Pike makes a show of parading the man through the halls in front of curious onlookers as they make their way toward the complex. Jaha, Raven, Bellamy, and even a recently arrived Murphy look up from their respective routines with expressions ranging from curiosity and concern, to surprise and indifference.
It's a lengthy and drawn out ordeal and their little show has gathered followers, but they finally make it to the courtyard where the crowd gathers to find out what is happening. They know of Kane's disapproval for Pike, but even the people among Skaikru who support the Chancellor know his predecessor as a sensible man. They wonder what he has done to receive the beating that is evident in his appearance.
The guards let go of Kane and he stands on wobbly legs. Only his determination to stand defiant against the man before him keeps him upright and he knows that winning this fight is a lofty proposition at best.
Pike stands before the crowd, eyes scanning over each person. He feels his authority and projects it to his people as he begins to speak.
"This man has issued a challenge for the title of Chancellor." His voice booms through the courtyard and he points a finger toward Marcus. "A one on one fight. The loser will be subject to imprisonment." He smirks sideways at Kane. The man who dared to challenge his authority had already received a taste of what his incarceration would be like.
With a nod to the guards, he turns on his heel toward Marcus and approaches him briskly. Marcus throws out the first punch as his opponent nears, but Pike dodges and catches his challenger with an undercut to the gut.
"What is that?" Clarke looks toward the top of Arkadia's perimeter wall with a curious expression as the trio continue to move toward the secret passage. They can hear what sounds like cheers jumbled with other yells and both women turn to Lincoln for an answer.
"Kane." He sighs "He challenged Pike to a battle for the Chancellorship."
Octavia bristles. "Why would he do that? That wasn't the plan."
Lincoln nods in understanding. "We ran out of time. Pike was planning to attack the blockade." He shrugs.
Clarke takes in the information silently, mulling it over in her mind. She thinks about the blockade and Kane's seemingly rash actions, but…they had to fit in there somewhere.
"He wasn't just preventing an attack." Clarke realizes. "He's giving us a diversion."
They finally reach the loose panel and Lincoln yanks it loose. The three manage to slip in unnoticed and Clarke turns her attention to the other two. Before she can confront Pike she has to make sure that all of her people can be heard.
"Lincoln, do you know where Pike's keeping any prisoners?"
He nods silently.
"Okay, go." She gestures for Octavia to follow him. "Get them out. I'll go find Pike."
The light has yet to touch the soil in Polis, yet deep inside the palace walls, preparations are in place for an early morning summit with the ambassadors. Lexa wants them to hear—wants them to know—the lengths that Skaikru go to eliminate the cancer that plagues their people and threatens the rest of the clans with bloodshed. She wants them to know that she is not favoring Skaikru above their own clans, and if Clarke should fail in her mission, they will be the first to hear the order for Arkadia's destruction. It's an order she hopes she won't have to give.
The handmaidens tend to their Heda as she stands in front of the mirror in her private quarters. They busy themselves with putting her hair into its signature braids, then she stretches her arms out while two of them slip the overcoat onto her shoulders. The shoulder guard and sash are handed to her last and she fastens the piece over her chest with nimble fingers.
"Mochoff. Gon we." She dismisses her handmaidens, giving them a silent nod before turning back to stare contemplatively at her own reflection. She feels the weight of this battle unlike any war she's ever waged, but such is the burden of attempting to wage peace, she supposes.
She hears the door open and, surprised, turns to see Abby. The corner of her mouth ticks up the slightest bit; it seems mother and daughter share the same lack of understanding for the full extent of the courtesy demanded by the title of Heda. In a way it's nice.
"May I help you?"
Abby says nothing; just looks at the young woman before her for a moment. To the untrained eye, her posture appears straight and rigid like the leader she is, but the doctor can see how her back bends just slightly and a hint of pain sits in her eyes. She walks forward and prods at the mending wound, prompting a wince out of the commander as she draws away from the touch.
"Sit down." Abby demands, leading Lexa back toward her bed and the commander bristles for a moment. Abby's hands are careful of her overcoat, moving her shirt up to reveal the stitching. Some of it has been popped since she last dressed the healing wound and she sighs in aggravation.
"You're over working yourself. You really shouldn't have been so hands on with your students last evening."
"How else were they to learn?" Lexa questions pointedly, arching an eyebrow at the older woman. Abby sighs in return, shooting an unamused look at the commander only to find her looking back with a peculiar fondness in her eyes.
"You're a nurturer." Lexa remarks simply, drawing Abby's attention back away from her work as she prompts for an explanation through her expression. "Clarke is much like you."
"Sometimes I'm not so sure." She huffs, and neither is entirely sure whether she means that as an insult or a compliment. Clarke has always had that drive that makes a natural leader…that makes a person more than just a good leader. She also has learned not to shy away from the seemingly immoral decisions for the good of all; Abby isn't sure if that shows strength of character or if it's a character flaw. Still, she can't help but remember what Marcus had pointed out during an execution ceremony not too long ago. Their methods weren't so different from the grounders.
"You know…that's something we learned in space, and I suspect the same is true on the ground; that caring for each other is important."
"It is." Lexa agrees with a nod.
"I don't know why I'm so hard on Clarke for her decisions, especially coming from a dying space station. People were chosen to be floated so that the entire population could have enough oxygen. Maybe I expected different from Earth?"
Lexa studies the woman with a knowing gaze as her deft fingers continue their work on the partially busted stitches. "Perhaps you hoped for different for your daughter."
And Abby concedes the truth of the statement with a slight shrug and a nod of her head. "Maybe. I never wanted her to know the brutality of the sacrifices we had to make."
"It's a burden no one should bear." Lexa agrees, "But there are times when survival requires seemingly heartless decisions. Just as you took no joy in sending your own people to die for the sake of the rest, I took none in leaving you to the mountain those months ago."
At the mention of Mt. Weather, Abby's eyes snap up and Lexa is met with the wariness behind them; the concern for her people. 'Never again', they say to her. The commander holds her gaze and is unshaken, ready to offer the reassurance Clarke's mother seeks from her.
"Survival requires sacrifice, but peace asks for sacrifice of a different kind. I have sworn to treat your people as my own and I have honored that oath to bring peace to the clans even as they threaten war. I will not march on Arkadia unless they give me no choice. The only blood I ask for is Pike's."
Maybe it's that shared Griffin trait of treating people as more than just their status, but Lexa finds herself laid bare before this woman in a way that's only similar with Clarke. She knows that Clarke's mother doesn't see her as Heda, but as the young sensitive woman she is, burdened with the weight of thousands of lives. And as Heda and Lexa, she implores both understanding and forgiveness to the healer and offers a dozen silent apologies and promises. She hopes that this can finally start mending Abby's own wounds from that day.
Abby stares her down, having finished the stitching, but she doesn't speak. Before she can, there is a knock on the door and one of Lexa's servants silently opens it.
"Heda, the ambassadors have arrived."
Kane grunts as Pike's fist slams into his bloodied face. Both men are bleeding and sweaty, but Marcus bears the brunt of the injuries. His will has kept him standing on his weakened legs and it's clear that this fight has not been kind to him, but he remains defiant. He swings once, misses, and haphazardly manages to dodge the left hook that Pike throws in return.
Neither man could say how long they've been at it. The sweat drips down both their faces; soaks their shirts. People in the crowd cheer the fight on while some argue with the guards to let them break it up. It's obvious that this fight is unfair. Others among the Sky People gamble on the winner, though betting against Pike at this point seems foolish.
There are gasps as the chancellor lunges at his challenger and picks him up in a bear hug before dropping him to the ground. He straddles Kane, lands blow after blow to his face while the other man closes his hands around Pike's neck. His grip is not strong enough and he quickly resorts to trying to roll his attacker off, but his position is firm. Pike raises his fist level with his face and his teeth are bared in a snarl as he readies a final blow. For a moment, some in the crowd wonder if he actually intends to kill Kane, but everyone's attention shifts as a sharp, commanding voice penetrates the courtyard.
"Enough!"
There are whispers throughout the crowd even as Pike's eyes stay locked on Kane for several beats. Slowly, his head moves up and his eyes find Clarke. He doesn't know it yet—hasn't had the courtesy—but this is not the Clarke he remembers.
This is Wanheda.
Her eyes are aflame with a fury that would see even the bravest Grounder warrior running and the way the early morning sun lights her hair makes her appear like some avenging angel.
"That's enough." She repeats. It's softer and with less bite, but the statement still drips with her anger. It's more than enough: Three hundred warriors slaughtered as they slept, an attempt to wipe out a village, bullying and silencing the very people he leads.
Enough.
Clarke glares as she watches Pike's mouth twitch up in a smile.
"Clarke Griffin…do my eyes deceive me?" He chuckles, standing from his spot over a badly wounded Kane. "You've committed treason; what would make you foolish enough to come back here?"
Clarke stands tall as she feels all the eyes of her people on her. She focuses on her goal and lets that be her strength along with the anger of Wanheda. She will certainly command his death when this is all over; of that, she is certain.
"I'm here to issue a challenge."
Pike scoffs and there is a hint of mockery about him as he gestures down to Marcus. "What? Do you want to be Chancellor, too?"
"No." Clarke chuckles. "I'm simply offering you the chance you've been waiting for. Hand me my humiliation, Pike. Debate me here in front of our people." With each word, Clarke strides down from the second story platform on which she stands, coming to stand just a few feet away from the man. Her eyes bore into him as his do the same. She makes it clear that she is not the little girl he knew on the Ark and she will not be frightened like one.
Wanheda bows to only one person.
Thanks for reading! Sorry to take a bit long to update. Also, the next update may take a week if not more. I'm moving and as you can imagine, I've got quite a bit on my mind. Anyway, I hope ya'll enjoyed it!