Clarke

Once they had made their alliance, things between Elody and Clarke changed even more. Elody began to invite Clarke not just for breakfast, but also for all her meals, and even had her sit next to her when she was performing her various duties. They spent an entire afternoon hearing complaints and reports from Ice Nation citizens, and at dinner afterward Elody seemed genuinely interested to hear Clarke's opinion on what should be done about the various grievances they had heard. At night Clarke was still locked into her chamber, and by day she was never left alone, but otherwise she felt less like a prisoner and more like a guest.

That night Elody said to her, "I have done as you asked. There is a messenger en route to speak to your friend Bellamy."

"How long will that take?" Clarke asked. They were enjoying a delicious feast, and she was enjoying it whole-heartedly. Since the torture had stopped and her appetite had returned, Clarke was enjoying just how talented the queen's chefs really were.

"It will not be long," the queen answered, surprising her. "It was done via radio."

Clarke paused, setting down her fork. "Radio?"

"That's right," Elody said with a nod.

"You have a radio," Clarke said, hardly believing it.

The queen smiled in amusement. "How do you think we communicate with the mountain network?"

Clarke saw her chance. It had been weeks since Elody had brought up this particular subject, and Clarke hadn't wanted to raise it herself, not wanting to reveal how interested she was in the topic. She picked up her fork again, taking a bite, chewing thoughtfully, knowing it was important that she tread lightly.

"I guess I didn't think about it," she said carefully. "I didn't realise you needed to be in such close communication with the mountains."

"Oh yes," Elody said with a nod. "Our trade agreements rely on it. The mountains are far from our territory, so without long-range communications it would be most impractical."

"Trade agreements?" Clarke asked, trying not to seem too interested. She kept eating, slowly.

"As you know," the queen explained patiently, "the Ice Nation are skilled herbalists. It is a specialty of ours, and one the mountains have come to rely on. What is the word they use to describe our goods? Oh yes… pharmaceuticals."

Clarke froze. "Pharmaceuticals?"

"Yes, that's right," she said with a nod. "Mount Weather in particular relied heavily on our products for their day-to-day operations." She frowned. "Of course, that is no longer the case."

Clarke's heart was beating fast. "So you manufacture drugs? Things like medicines, pain relievers, anesthetics?"

"Yes," Elody said with a nod.

Clarke knew how much it would mean for her people to have a steady supply of such things. "What about antibiotics?"

"Yes, of course," the queen said with a shrug. "Not to mention paralytics, Red, poisons, spiritual preparations, recreational drugs…"

"Red?" Clarke repeated, taken aback. "You make Red?"

"Well, I don't," Elody said, seeming amused. "But yes, Red is manufactured by the Ice Nation. It is a powerful drug of control."

It made sense, knowing what she did about this place, that the Ice Nation would be the mastermind behind such a terrible drug, but Clarke was still shocked. She had assumed that, with the destruction of Mount Weather, all the Red was gone... she knew Lincoln and Octavia thought that too. Having seen its horrible affects firsthand, it didn't comfort her to know there was more being manufactured.

"How do you have these agreements with the mountains when Mount Weather was an enemy to your own alliance?" she asked.

Elody's lip curled a little. "Mount Weather is an enemy of those who live within its clutches," she said. "Our trade agreements predate our temporary alliance with Leksa kom Trikru, and were not her business. She has never known of our dealings with them."

Clarke took another bite of her dinner and chewed thoughtfully. She sensed the edge to Elody's voice and didn't want to upset her so she pulled back a little into safer territory and said, "Mount Weather used Red to create the Reapers. Do the other mountains use it for the same thing?"

"You will have to ask them," Elody answered shortly, and Clarke could sense that she'd reached the end of the queen's patience on this subject. The woman continued, "I have decided not to kill you. We are allies now. But if you double-cross me, or if I have reason to doubt your sincerity within this alliance, I will sell your bone marrow to the highest bidder."

She said it so casually, like she wasn't describing a process that would mean certain death for her, but Clarke knew that she knew that was the case.

"I won't betray your trust," she promised.

"Then do not be rude," Elody answered evenly. "Do not ask questions whose answers don't concern you."

"I'm sorry," Clarke said. She dropped the subject, despite the fact that she wanted to know so much more, and instead asked, "Will Bellamy be able to communicate back to me, once your messenger talks to him?" As soon as she said it she felt an ache, remembering their radio communication when he was inside Mount Weather; she wished so much she could have that again now. Even just to hear his voice would make her feel so much better.

"Unless he is invited into one of the mountains, then no," Elody said, shaking her head. "And considering what you have told me, I doubt very much that that will happen."

Clarke nodded. "No, you're right. He wouldn't go near them."

"You care about Bellamy," Elody said- a statement, not a question- and there was Lexa's voice coming back to her from all those weeks ago, her blue eyes full of something Clarke had not yet understood as she'd said, You care about him, don't you? You worry about him more.

Letting out a sigh, Clarke nodded. "Yes. I do."

"Perhaps he will visit you here, once he knows that you are safe within my walls," the queen said, her voice conversational- but Clarke couldn't help but wonder if that's what Elody wanted. Did she want Bellamy to come here, so she would have two prisoners? She had described him as her second-in-command… did Elody want both of them, thinking it might give her more leverage?

"Maybe," Clarke said carefully. "I hope so." But what she actually hoped, in that moment, was that Bellamy would stay away. As much as she wanted to see him, she couldn't believe that Elody's interest was benign. They may have forged a tentative alliance, but that didn't mean she trusted the queen anymore than she trusted Lexa. Neither had proven themselves to be honourable.

That evening, when Clarke was locked back up in her quarters, she waited until the footsteps of her guard faded away and then she crept to the hearth, gritting her teeth as she knelt beside the fire and reached her arm up into the chimney, ignoring the heat as her fingers felt for the now-familiar loose brick she had found days before.

She pulled it loose and sat down on the floor, turning it over to reveal the hollowed-out centre of the brick. Inside was a rolled up bit of paper. Clarke unrolled it, and using charcoal from the fire, she wrote in shorthand all the things she had learned at dinner- the trade agreements, the mountains, and the radio. Anything that was useful, she kept track. It wasn't that she was afraid she'd forget, but if she wrote it down then it seemed more real. It seemed possible that she was safer than she really was, that she had insurance. She hoped the alliance with Elody was all that it seemed it could be, all that the queen promised. She hoped that she would be able to negotiate trade for the precious medicines the Ice Nation could provide. But if that wasn't meant to be, if Elody's cruel face came back, then she had to be ready. She had to have some kind of ammunition.

She heard footsteps outside and quickly shoved the bit of paper back into the brick, reaching up into the fire to replace the brick in the inside of the chimney, withdrawing her arm again just as the bolt slid loose from the door. She held her hands over the fire as if warming herself.

"Clarke," it was Yana, the girl Elody had introduced to her the day their truce had been struck. After that day, Yana had been made Clarke's personal attendant, and she saw the girl daily. Several others accompanied Yana, all carrying boiling pitchers of water, which they poured into Clarke's bathtub. She had gotten used to this ritual, and actually looked forward to her nightly bath. It was a luxury she hadn't had at the dropship, or Camp Jaha, or even the Ark.

Once the tub was full and the oils and fragrances had been added, the room grew cosy and sweet smelling. Everyone but Yana left, bolting both girls in the room together, and Clarke undressed without shyness, used to this now. Yana averted her eyes but otherwise made no notice of Clarke's nakedness, and as she slid down into the hot water, she couldn't help but let out a long breath of contentment as her tension melted away.

Yana stood behind her, gathering up her long blonde hair and starting to brush it through with her fingers, washing it carefully. Clarke's eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of being cared for, something she hadn't enjoyed since she was a child. Sometimes she imagined Yana's hands as her mother's.

The two girls got on well and Clarke mostly looked forward to their evenings together. There had been an initial adjustment period, and not only because there was a consistent boundary of heda and servant girl that prevented true friendship. The first evening that Yana had come to tend to her, the girl had reached under the bathwater and attempted to touch Clarke in a way that was most unwelcome. Clarke had jumped about a mile, but then explained to the girl that she was not to do that again- that they could be friends and nothing more.

Clarke never dared to ask what exactly what instructions Elody had given to Yana before sending her in that first time, but afterward the pair of them settled into a pleasant routine.

"Did you and the queen have a nice day?" Yana asked her now, breaking through Clarke's thoughts. The girl's fingers running through her hair was so always soothing that Clarke often fell asleep during this part, and Yana had to wake her to avoid drowning her. But she always seemed amused by it, never annoyed.

"We did," Clarke answered with a nod. She brought her palm up to catch one of the flowers on the surface of the water and brought it to her nose, inhaling it, before letting it float away again.

"You are lucky to win her favour," Yana said.

Clarke wasn't sure if the girl knew just how lucky, but she only nodded her head. "I am. This alliance is very important to me." She wasn't stupid, and knew that Yana was sure to report back to the queen regularly, so she never said anything that she wouldn't want to Elody to hear about later. "And you're lucky as well."

Yana's grin was big. "I am," she agreed enthusiastically.

Clarke leaned her head back and smiled at the girl. Looking at her from this perspective, with that big smile on her face, it was easy to see that Yana had a nice personality, and was even pretty in her own way. She had a round face, reddish brown skin, and dark brown eyes that crinkled at the corners when she smiled. But her best feature were her hands- whether they were combing Clarke's hair, massaging the knots from her shoulders, mixing tinctures for her bathwater, or building up her fire, her hands were always working and always produced something Clarke could enjoy.

She had asked her how old she was, but the way Grounders seemed to count time was different, and maybe she didn't really know when she was born, but Clarke was fairly certain she was about fourteen. She knew she'd already been here two years, and she couldn't help but think of the girl's family so far away- would they even recognise her now? Would they ever see each other again? How could they let their daughter go to such a frightening place as this? But then she remembered Tris, that little girl who had been on the bridge, even younger than Yana, Anya's second and not even a woman yet, and she knew that Yana's situation wasn't unique. It was a brutal world.

After her bath Clarke allowed herself to be dressed and sat in front of the fire, where Yana worked through the tangles in her hair with a wooden comb dipped in fragrant oil. "Is it true that where you come from, you are still considered a child?" she asked curiously.

"It is," Clarke agreed, smiling a little as she imagined her mother, that smile fading into a sigh as she thought about how Abby wanted her to still be a little girl, and how impossible that was- not after all she'd been through, seen and done.

Yana giggled a little. "But you are so old," she protested. "You could be a mother by now, or at least have a man or woman of your own. I suppose being the Skaikruheda has made you too busy for such things."

Clarke laughed softly and shook her head. "Where I come from, people my age aren't considered old, we rarely have children, and we're never married."

"This place you come from- the Ark? It is very strange."

"You can say that again," Clarke said dryly. Yana's deft hands combing her hair together with the warm fire and suppleness of her skin from the bath, Clarke felt coddled and snug, and she could barely keep her eyes open. She let out a wistful sigh and said, "I don't think of the Ark as home. Not anymore."

"Where is your home, then?" Yana asked gently. "I know it is not here. Not yet."

Clarke couldn't ever imagine a day when the Ice Nation would be home, but she held her tongue and just said, "I guess for me, home stopped being a place when I came to Earth. It's more about people now."

"So who is your home?" Yana asked. "Bellamy?"

Clarke had never spoken his name to the girl, so she knew that came from Elody, but she didn't really mind. "Yeah," she said, picturing his face, his curls, his strong arms wrapped around her in a hug, the sincerity in his brown eyes. "Yeah, Bellamy is home… and so is his sister, Octavia… Raven, Jasper, and Monty… Monroe, Harper, and Miller… even the people who died. Everyone I've been with since I came down here- they're home for me."

"It must have been very difficult to leave them behind," Yana said gently, perhaps sensing the grief that had filled Clarke's voice.

She blinked away tears and shook her head. "No, that's the problem," she said. "It wasn't. Walking away was easier than staying, so I left. I wish I hadn't."

"Please don't cry, Clarke," Yana said, coming around to the front of her and taking her hand. "I did not mean to upset you."

Clarke hadn't realised she was crying until the girl brought it up, but she was- tears were streaming down her cheeks as she thought about her home, the people she'd left behind, the pointlessness of it all. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice catching.

Yana hugged her tightly and Clarke couldn't help but hug her back. The girl seemed content just to hold her for as long as she needed, and Clarke didn't let go until she had calmed down.

"Sometimes we have to travel far away to realise where it is that we belong," Yana said softly, stroking Clarke's cheek with her palm. "That doesn't make the journey futile."

Clarke nodded and internally she had to marvel yet again at the wisdom of Grounders. She couldn't help but think of Lexa, so young in age, but yet when she spoke or even looked at you, there was no questioning that she was a leader. Belatedly she realised that some people would say the same thing about her- all that talk of her being the wanheda proved that.

Still, she knew that what Yana was saying was true. But even if it wasn't futile, she knew this journey would still be full of perils, and she had no guarantee that she would ever see home again.