Chapter Five

Ho Hey, the Lumineers

91 days till the end, evening

The Floukru hospitality consisted of a lot of strong smelling, fire roasted fish, and slimy edible items Octavia couldn't identity today anymore than she'd been able to on her first trip. Even the children were drinking a weak, salty beer with dinner, and just as last time, they sat around in little groups. Talking, and taking turns telling silly stories as if making it quite obvious they were ignoring the outsiders' presence in their midst. Octavia itched all over. The sweat covering her from the unpleasantly humid day, dried and stinking now, and the tight, dark confines made it worse. It didn't even feel like winter here anymore.

Surrounded by her tiny clan, hardly bigger than Skaikru, the disgraced nitblida sat, smug and distant, preceding over the evening meal. The shadows and flames cast over her, Luna resembled her sister of the blood unnaturally so. The arrogant tilt of her chin as she ignored the commander's delegation had most of it brooding darkly by the time the meal was hardly underway. The sharp, hard gaze, and the slight, sneer... Octavia had never truly appreciated Luna and Lexa's similarities before. Till now.

Pressed close to his paramour's side, pointedly having sat between her and the irritable Blue Cliffs warrior, Lincoln was torn. Wishing to drift towards his old friend, but stuck as if by magnets to Octavia.

The young ambassador was sitting placidly at Octavia's other side, being as frankly ignored as the delegation was being by the rest of Floukru. Watching Piers kom Floukru from the corner of her eye, Octavia looked away to scan the mess hall again until she spotted the elderly man with the thick, bushy, short beard who'd been the ocean clan's ambassador before. He was sitting, flanking Luna, whom had her own boyfriend, Derrick, Octavia remembered, on her other side. Though the old man was eating quietly, Octavia knew he was watching her just as intently in return.

She didn't know many of the other Floukru- there was Adria, who'd made to Camp Jaha to die, at a group of children, as far from the delegation as could be, and Shay, whose death had pushed Jasper over the edge finally, but the rest she knew only by sight, really, telling stories loudly only a few feet away, at the fire nearest theirs.

"She has ignoring us all day," spat Octavia, without bothering to lower her voice.

"An insult to Heda," agreed Wade of Blue Cliffs hotly, and Lincoln shifted a bit more, placing his back to the ill-tempered fellow.

"These are hardly matters to discuss at dinner with too many ears able to overhear," counseled Lincoln, pitching his voice low, but his discomfort made him gruffer.

90 Days Till the End

The morning Clarke arrives back at Polis

When the sun came up, it offered a slowly brightening as they walked tiredly towards Polis. After pushing hard for most of the journey, they'd finally gotten close enough to the capital to slow down. Not long before dawn, the gruff Trikru man had dismounted in order to relieve his horse. With his feet back on the ground, Caliban stretched briefly, and loosened the girths to let the saddle and packs sit loosely. Once she'd followed his example, Clarke pet the frothy sweat drenched, warm mare gratefully.

Ambling the very last hour, Caliban, slow and unhurried, answered anything she could think to ask.

"My grandfather's grandmother lived through Praimfaya. Moira. She was just a young girl, but she is the only one of that generation I know of," admitted Caliban, holding branches back for Clarke to pass through a narrow squeeze.

Someone must have run ahead when they were spotted, because when Clarke came into sight of the tower, Titus was waiting, grim faced, though perhaps no more than usual. It was harder to read him, in this life, since he seemed to dislike her a fraction or so less. Without waiting to ask, her escort reached for the reins of her mare, and led her off along with his own towards the back of the tower.

"Yes?" asked Clarke as she reached Titus.

His scowl deepened, looking down at her severely.

"Heda has summoned you to your quarters- immediately,"

Upon reaching Lexa's personal rooms, she found the commander pacing restlessly in the bright light of dozens of fat candles.

"You missed the council on Praimfaya," snapped Lexa the moment the door was shut.

Pursing her lips, Clarke ignored the sharpness.

"Skaikru has been blamed for disasters we didn't cause before. There was no need for me to be there inviting a recurrence."

Turning away, Lexa withdrew a long dagger, that Clarke supposed was her favorite, as it was always the first one drawn. Before the blonde could think on it further, it sailed through the room to embed itself with a sharp thud into the circular board nailed into one wall. It looked, Clarke thought, like a dart board from the recreation room in Second Dawn, in fact.

The other girl didn't even bother watching once she'd thrown it. Dead center, on a spot that had once been bright red. Instead she turned to stare, flatly, at Clarke.

Who tried to ignore the unspoken demand.

Lexa's brow raised, just a hint, but otherwise she kept her face smoothly blank, in wait.

Huffing, Clarke gave in, pulling a knife of her own "It's not even mine, really. It's Trikru's blood money for John. Cutting off that thought before it could really strike,she aimed, taking longer than Lexa, and watched as it struck.

Only just making it on the outer ring of the board, still, it stuck.

At least they didn't fall to the floor anymore, clattering with shame.

Or out the window that was two feet over from the board.

Anymore.

Lexa nodded, pleased, the slight curve of her pretty lips offering a touch of smugness. Her shoulders eased, and calmly, she retrieved both of their knives. With a wider smirk, she offered Clarke's back to her, handle first.

"Again. We can train as we discuss this."

"You know I rode all night, right?"

Lexa's nod was delicately short, and she smirked, with a tinge of amusement bleeding through her composure.

"To train only when rested is to lose many advantages."

When Lexa finally conceded that Clarke was so done for the morning, the blonde limped from the commander's chambers. She was favoring her left side, where a cramp in her calf, and a particuarly heavy landing upon the cold floor together meant she was less than pleased with the training session.

Flexing her calf gently as she made her way towards her own chambers, she fought a grimace when Titus came around a corner, and lasered in upon her.

"Wanheda, may I have a moment?" inquired the flamekeeper as he drew nearer.

Clarke paused mid-step, already nodding automatically, even as she eyed the unfamliar man who followed the flame-keeper.

"Titus?" she prompted, once both men had come to a stop in front of her path.

He bowed his head slightly, before extending his hand to present the man at his side.

Sandy haired, with lightly red cheeks, fair golden skinned, and bright blue eyes, broad shouldered and tall, with sharp features and a hint of an amused smirk on his lips, Clarke immediately decided she'd never seen him before- in either life.

"Wanheda, I wish for you to meet Ulrin kom Delfikru, the clan's chief. Only yesterday, he arrived in Polis," said Titus smoothly.

The smirk grew, crooked and perhaps, she thought, self-deprecating, on the other man's face.

Clarke flushed, dark and hot, worsening the moment she realized it, knowing how awfully noticable it was. Pursing her lips, she nodded curtly.

"Nice to meet you," she managed.

"It is my honor to meet you," assured Ulrin kom Delfrikru "I have heard much about you- especially today, from my young cousin."

Stiffening up when the man had begun, she relaxed once he'd finished. At the mention of the Delfikru nightblood, she smiled genuinely. "Aden is a remarkable boy," she commented kindly.

"It appears that he believes the sun rises, and sets solely upon your orders," remarked Ulrin, his smirk reappearing.

She startled, and noticed Titus' frown from the corner of her eye, but then chuckled when she decided that the Delfikru man had not meant it as a taunt.

"Perhaps he is not wrong," added Ulrin, earning a quick smile from the notoriously skeptical young woman.

Titus' frown dissolved into a bit more smug of an expression. He slyly backed away, without their paying any notice, to leave them alone.

In the land of ice and snow,

From her great, wrought iron throne upon the stone dais, the queen of the ice nation glared down at the lone warrior before her. To either side of her, one of her own royal guard stood silent.

"Be prepared," she warned sharply.

The young field commander bowed his head quickly.

"My son sets out in four day's time, and you will take your leave afterwards," ordered the queen.

"Sha, azplana," barked out the young, but burly, fair haired warrior hastily.

"You will succeed," reiterated Nia, leaning forward to loom over him all the more.

As the field commander bowed yet again, the great, wide doors were knocked hard upon, and with her sharp consent, flung open.

Her own council, the war chiefs of every area of the ice nation, and her chosen advisers poured inside. The spy, a favorite of the queen, returned from the mountain, the nitblida, and finally her son, sullen though he remained, flanked by the security detail she'd granted him upon his own return.

Roan strode in, suspiciously watching all those around him. The prodigal, returned. Nia puffed up with the pleasure of his submission. Let him hate, so long as he feared.

Though chairs, many shapes and sizes, though all much smaller than her great throne, lined the back wall, none dared to chose one for themselves. Instead, the assembling, swollen greater than normal, with their seconds ordered to attend, jostled for position. As they tried to stand closest to the throne, Nia smirked down at them all. When she spoke, silence hell, sharp and clear.

"Welcome, my loyal friends," crooned the ice queen, lazing back in her throne, and sweeping her gaze slowly over the room.

Rustles spread again as heads bowed deeply, and murmurs of respectful, or fearful, greetings rose quietly up to the dais.

The queen did not miss her son's still silence, but ignored it. The prince's sullen boyish behavior would be noted by all those around him. All the grudging boy did was lessen his own dignity, and the threat he posed to herself. As if such a prince would be worthy of a coup to any Azgeda.

Pleased, she launched into the discourse required of the day.

Only once her war chiefs had appraised her of the ongoing preparations, and the advisers had argued over the border's reinforcements, did she turn her attention back to the grim visage of her son. Throughout the meeting, he had listened, silent, with his head turned away from her.

"See it that the border is secure," concluded Nia.

She turned her gaze upon Roan, and stretched her mouth out into a smile.

"My son, the crown prince Roan, shall reacquaint himself with the people of Azgeda," she purred,

Roan's head jerked up and over to meet his mother's eyes.

Her smile grew to show her teeth.

Just waiting for him to defy her.

"Atohl, you shall lead his security detail for the procession," added Nia lazily. The war chief of the capital straightened up, and eyed his second with his thick brows furrowed.

Roan turned to look at the war chief's second, as the room at large did as well. He grit his teeth. With his face contorted, barely holding back a snarl, he met his mother's eyes again.

With just a jerky nod, he agreed. Waiting, he listened, closely, silently, as the meeting continued on around him. That his mother was preparing for war, was painfully frank, but she did not speak of why beyond the greatness of Azgeda's honor. Her sycophants demanded no explanation at all.

"Out, all of you," ordered the queen.

The room emptied swiftly.

Except for the prince, the queen, and of course, the warrior at each side of her.

It was not as if she could be left actually alone with her own son.

"You look more like your father every day," - Nia

"That is the nature of sons, is it not? I am merely the only one to live long enough," - Roan

She scoffed.

Hundred Camp

"Bellamy, the radio! It's Clarke!" yelped Jasper, sticking his head out of the curtains only just far enough to be heard before scurrying back to continue hiding out.

Abandoning his wooden bowl of roasted deer chunks, Bellamy jumped to his feet. He left Sterling, and Atom to scavenge from it as he hurtled towards the radio. Crossing the camp from fire to dropship in long, hasty strides and when he reached the radio, sitting on the comms center on the upper level, he took a deep breathe before picking it up. Jasper hesitated nearby until Bellamy waved his hand pointedly towards the hatch.

"Hey, Clarke?" Bellamy tried.

She replied, flat and cool. "Report?"

Frowning at the lack of warmth, he forged ahead as soon as the hatch fell closed behind Jasper.

"Uh, everything's normal here. Fine, I mean. Thing is, Jackson radioed me when he couldn't reach you-"

"What's wrong?" she rushed him, voice rising and losing her blank effect of composure.

"Hey, chill, it's not a big deal. Apparently, he found some actual relative of Jasper's. Great-uncle, I guess. The old man's asking about him, and Jackson... well, he said if Jasper wants to meet him, it needs to be soon,"

She didn't respond for so long Bellamy thought she was gone. Her voice, when it finally came again, was muffled as she whispered closely into the radio. "That's new," she revealed.

"So?"

"I don't know why... I mean, what could have changed this?"

Bellamy shrugged, even though she couldn't see it.

"Does he want to go?"

"Haven't told him yet," - Bellamy

She held the line open, as if she began to respond, but paused to change her mind. "Tell him, and let him radio Jackson. But don't let him go on his own-"

"Obviously," cut in Bellamy.

"I'll be back as soon as I can, and if he wants to go, we make a quick trip," she finished curtly.

"You really think that's a smart decision?"

"The more things change, the less my old memories help," hissed Clarke quietly, "but we can't just ignore everything we don't already know about,".

"Yeah, well, you're still more privileged than the rest of us when it comes to info, so maybe you shouldn't be making stupid choices to risk your neck,"

The radio stayed silent, and he knew this time, she wasn't coming back on the line. Dropping the priceless long distance radio onto the makeshift table harder than was smart, he turned away.

Below, he found the boy in question, tinkering around. Moonshine was store in miscellaneous jugs near the med bay. The supply was looking low, noticed Bellamy vaguely before he focused in on Jasper as soon as his boots hit the ground off the ladder.

"We need to talk," grunted Bellamy.

"Isn't that normally a girl's line?" piped up Jasper, looking up from where he'd been rearranging the jugs.