Vaughn's cheek was pressed against the dirt floor of a cell when he began to regain consciousness, squinting blearily up at his captors as they clasped manacles to his wrists and threaded the chain through an iron ring on the wall.

"Is this how you treat all visitors to the great city?" he huffed, hating how his voice cracked weakly midway through the sentence.

There were no windows down here, wherever here was, the only illumination cast by three flickering torches braced against the walls beyond his caged confines. The dancing flames shrouded the ferocious warrior in shadows as she waited patiently for the guards to restrain the prisoner.

Her response was short and to the point, unwilling to engage with the traitor unnecessarily.

"Only those who betray us."

He scoffed lightly, looking around pointedly at the otherwise empty confinement as he drew himself onto his knees, furtively hiding just how much it hurt to adopt the strenuous pose. Strength was everything to these people and he'd rather die than show weakness.

"I thought we might be more numerous."

Octavia cast her dark gaze down upon the kneeling traitor who was now firmly restrained, the two warriors assuming their positions behind her. The pathetic man was clearly taunting her, hoping to elicit a response from his captor that would satisfy his craving for chaos and disruption. Little did he know who he was dealing with.

"No one will hear your vile words down here," Octavia said, turning the conversation around on the unsuspecting prisoner. "You get this entire cage to yourself Vaughn, or would you prefer that I call you Shadow?"

The taunting smile on Vaughn's face crumbled in an instant as he realised just how much intel these people had on him. He had taken great care to conceal his identity throughout his life, living much like a shadow as he swept between clans, adopting a forgettable alias as he infiltrated lives and left his own subtle mark on the world.

Shadow had particular appeal to him from the very beginning, representing his ability to remain a mystery to many, even as his reputation spread between the lips of those who might have use of such talents. Perhaps this egotistical reputation had been the key to his downfall and very presence within this cell.

It was now Octavia's turn to boast a sly smile, slowly crouching to meet the bewildered gaze at eye level.

"We know all about you Shadow," she uttered with contempt, quietly enjoying the flicker of fear that came to life before her. "It's time to face your reckoning."

Without warning, the desperate man lurched forwards with a guttural cry, intent on inflicting his frustrations on his captors for subjecting him to this fate. The experienced warrior before him didn't even blink, pitying his futile effort as the chains holding his wrists reached their full extension, using the fools own momentum to jar him back forcefully before he could even get within arms reach.

Octavia shook her head regretfully, wondering what horrors had led this man down such a deadly path.

"Your legacy ends here. Just like all the others before you, gone without trace and forgotten for the rest of time."

Vaughn swallowed thickly as the woman rose to stand over him, her tone sharp and cutting before she spun on her heel and left the man alone with his grievances.

"She doesn't scare me," Vaughn insisted hoarsely, clashing his chains dramatically to draw one final gaze from the warrior, satisfied when she appeared to bristle at the comment. "Do you hear me?"

He staggered upright with a burst of effort, his legs shaking even as he drew back his shoulders to stand tall and proud.

"She sends her warriors and assassins to strike fear into our hearts but I am not afraid! I will not be broken into submission. Tell her that. The Shadow will not be broken!"

Octavia paused as the guard secured the door behind her, dark shadows encompassing the left side of her face as she stared back at the doomed man. For many it was akin to staring into the face of death. The famed warrior of blood and steel, with the favour of Polis' finest heightening her status further. Few stared back into those eyes and lived to see another day.

"We shall see."

The three words were uttered without compassion, followed only by the soft footfalls on the ground as his captors turned away from him without second thought and abandoned him to the dim, isolated cell and his own raging thoughts.

Octavia emerged from the underground cell complex, taking a deep breath of the clear air, a blessed comparison to the damp, musty air below.

"Where is she?"

"In the throne room with Indra," one warrior responded as the other remained behind to guard the prisoner.

"No time to waste then."

The tower loomed high above them, many floors standing between them and the throne room. The elevator felt slow at the best of times, excruciatingly so when such important matters were at hand.

"We were explicitly told that no-one is to interrupt their meeting under any circumstances."

Octavia shifted impatiently as they ascended, silently urging the contraption to encounter a sudden burst of speed.

"Don't worry, she'll want to hear about this."

After what felt like an age, they finally reached the higher levels and hurried along the narrow corridor to where the double doors marked the entrance to the throne room. Two impassive guards remained stationed in front of them, allowing access to only those who had been granted permission.

Octavia was prepared to argue her case, however useless the attempt might be, but she was saved the effort when the large doors swung open without warning and the guards stepped aside in an instant.

Indra nodded at her second as she emerged, barely time for a brief greeting as she swept by to carry out her own vital mission. Octavia knew better than to inquire about such matters and pushed the curiosity from her mind as she entered the throne room.

Clarke was sitting on one of the lower steps at the base of the throne, her shoulders hunched forwards with her chin resting on interlocked fingers, deep in thought before jerking her head up at the sudden intrusion. She hadn't expected company so soon, but Octavia's presence was more than welcome.

"Well?"

The blonde was on her feet in an instant as she recognised the gleam of success in the woman's eyes, already anticipating the warriors response.

"Everything went according to plan."

"The target?"

"Safely restrained in the cells," Octavia confirmed, observing the relieved sigh that escaped the blonde's lips at the good news.

"Finally, everything is coming together," Clarke breathed, moving closer to the brunette to assess her status. "Any complications?"

"It went smoothly enough. He's no warrior, but the hidden blade bought him an extra second or two. All in all it was an easy win."

Clarke had expected nothing less, knowing better than most just how much Octavia had progressed in weaponry since becoming Indra's second. Few could match her passion or skill with a blade.

"Will he be questioned tonight?" Octavia queried, testing the waters to identify just how much intel would be revealed to her. It was a matter of curiosity more than anything, understanding the perilous nature of the missions that were taking place as they spoke.

The blonde shook her head and resumed a slow pace back and forth across the width of the room as she analysed the situation.

"He can talk to himself for tonight, I'm sure there is plenty to think about. Besides, there a few more moves to be made before this ordeal is at an end."

Octavia was not privy to the large scale of this plan, nor did she want to be, content to do her part and witness the collective result of their success. They were so close to the conclusion that they had waited so long for.

"Anything else that needs my attention tonight?"

"No," Clarke said promptly, more than pleased by the work that had been achieved over the last few nights. "You should get some rest while you can, before Indra has you back on her schedule."

Octavia huffed lightly, the warriors life was as glamourous as it sounded but she would not trade it for anything.

"Thank you. You should rest as well Clarke," the warrior added as an afterthought, aware of how easy it was to loose track of the days when an operation was underway. "You're no good to anyone if you're exhausted."

Some leaders might have taken offense at the directed opinion, insulted by the forward comment that would not have been tolerated under any circumstances, but Clarke recognised friendly advice and smiled appreciatively. Few would dare to make such a comment let alone doubt her stamina.

"Good night Octavia."

The dark haired warrior inclined her head soundlessly and turned on her heel to leave the throne room, sympathising with the responsibility that rested to heavily on so few individuals.

Octavia did not doubt Clarke's leadership for a moment and witnessed her growing into the role with every passing day. It was a burden that few could handle let alone flourish under.

Clarke was left to the solitary peace of the throne room once the doors had closed resolutely behind Octavia. She ascended the three steps and stepped around the prominent throne, gently brushing aside the hanging curtains and opening the jagged glass doors remnant from a period of time long ago, resting her hands on the brick wall of the balcony to look down over the vast city.

The curvature of mountains far in the distance were hidden under a black sky, contrasting sharply with the faint glow of the city that expanded out from the tower. It was a deceivingly peaceful night after the stormy conditions that had graced the land for almost a week previously, a much needed respite from the torrent of rain and gales.

Clarke dipped her head and let the cool breeze wash over her, calming the racing thoughts that cascaded through her mind. The past few months had stretched by to feel like a year, seemingly an age since her and Lexa had relaxed together on the beautiful beach.

She recalled the assassination attempt in the forest that had been the first of many upsetting discoveries. The subsequent emergency meetings had revealed a network of traitors within the walls of Polis itself and the far reaching settlements, waiting quietly in the shadows for their moment to strike.

The hateful group appeared to have originated in Azgeda territory, vengeful after the death of their Queen but patient enough to lie low until their enemies felt relaxed and were unsuspecting of attack. Since this discovery, a major mission was underway to route out these enemy threats and crush their rebellion once and for all. Months of painstakingly gathering intel and planning ahead had made the time drag by.

Lexa had been intent on destroying this treacherous network before they could do any real damage, overseeing the division of resources to track and trace these individuals, all of which had led to the current large scale operation in which warriors were attempting to take down the most prominent members of the organisation simultaneously.

The goal was to capture these traitors alive or with necessary force if they resisted. Capturing the elusive Shadow has been a major success, but there was no telling if the other missions had shared the same fortune.

If this mission failed then the resulting fallout would be worse than any attempt that had been previously witnessed. This was to be a show of strength, a message that those who attempted to break the alliance would be met with severe consequences.

It would be hours yet before any news returned of their success and Clarke concluded that perhaps Octavia was right and a short rest would be beneficial. It was more productive than pacing the throne room anxiously for the next few hours.

Out there, warriors were under orders to intercept enemy spies and disrupt a plot that had been sewing seeds throughout the land ever since Nia's death. All she could do now was wait.

A brief two hour sleep left Clarke feeling more invigorated than she had in days, no doubt due to the surge of adrenaline in her veins as she returned to the throne room to receive status reports from the missions.

Her pace didn't falter as the guards hurried to open the set of double doors through which she swept, her breath catching for a brief second when she saw Indra waiting in the centre of the room, blood spatters clearly visible on her armour.

"Well?"

Indra rotated her body to follow the blonde's movements as she advanced through the spacious room. The warriors stoic expression and bloodied appearance could have meant one of two things and Clarke was apprehensive to learn of the outcome.

"All targets have been successfully apprehended,' Indra began, inciting a burst of relief in the blonde's chest as she struggled to ignore the sensation and focus on the rest of the report. 'Four have been captured but the rest refused to be taken without bloodshed."

It was as expected. These traitors would rather die than be imprisoned indefinitely by the enemy.

"And the Commander?"

Lexa had been organising her warriors on the ground, overseeing the operation to ensure that not a single error was made. One mistake could be their downfall, but under her guidance everything had gone to plan.

"Dealing with the traitors as we speak."

Clarke nodded to herself thoughtfully. There was still one prisoner that had yet to be questioned and there was no point delaying the inevitable.

"Tell Octavia to be here at first light, I require her insight into the target that she apprehended."

The night was almost at it's end when the blonde emerged from the tower into the quiet courtyard below, her personal security detail following close behind like silent assassins, although she she barely took notice of their presence any more.

She was just in time to intercept a group of warriors returning from their mission, casting a swift glance over the ranks before she recognised a familiar face.

"Lincoln!" she called out, moving away from the tower walls to draw his attention.

Tired eyes lifted to meet her gaze, although a spark of life returned to their brown depths as he stepped away from the collection of warriors to greet her.

"Clarke, I assume you've heard the good news?"

"Of course, this night has been a huge success for the alliance."

Lincoln frowned questioningly as he noted the slight pause to the statement, observing the tension in her face that contradicted her words.

"But?"

Clarke sighed lightly, casually checking that no-one was listening to their conversation before she replied.

"Sometimes I wonder whether it will be enough. For every ploy that we intercept, there is always someone else who wishes us harm."

Lincoln expressed a chuckle at her confession and it was odd to see the usually serious warrior react with a broad smile. It was a complication understood by every warrior in the midst of such uncertain times.

"There will always be someone who wishes us harm Clarke. You have to learn to take every victory you can and enjoy the peace in between the chaos. That's how we survive. That's how we live."

Clarke was impressed with the man's wisdom at times and realised that he was right, there was no use fretting about what may or may not happen. For now they had won this fight and that was worth being proud of.

"Thank you," she said sincerely, allowing herself a small smile before she scanned the emptying courtyard hopefully. "Where is she?"

"Taking care of an unexpected situation. I wasn't given any details," he admitted with a shrug, recalling the hushed words and fleeting surprise on the Commander's face when a messenger had come flying in from nowhere.

"When will she return?"

"It could be an hour, or a day, it was not my place to ask," Lincoln replied, shifting as the tired ache from the last three days of duty began to settle over his body.

"You should go and lie down before you fall down," Clarke advised, having held the warrior up for long enough.

Lincoln smiled in thanks, uttering a quick parting farewell before he trudged after his fellow warriors for a well earned rest.

The darkness was just beginning to break as the first hints of daylight brought a new day to the city, fresh with possibility and intrigue. Right on cue, Octavia's voice could be heard drifting over the courtyard and Clarke turned her head to see the warrior reach up and place a long kiss on the lips of her lover. He uttered something amusing and Octavia laughed heartily, savouring one last lingering gaze at the tall man before lightly pushing him in the direction of the accommodation that they shared, recognising the same exhaustion that Clarke had noticed not moments ago.

The blonde woman quelled her own disappointment that the Commander had not yet returned as Octavia paced towards her with a rare smile.

"What have you got in store for me today then?" the dark haired warrior asked, almost bouncing to a stop at her side.

"I think it's about time we questioned the so called Shadow," Clarke responded, watching the woman's excitement shift into a more serious expression at the thought. "Would you care to join me?"

Octavia nodded brusquely, lightly running her tongue over her busted lip as she remembered her interaction with the strange man.

"Let's do it."

Vaughn's wrists were bloodied and bruised from where he had been fighting against the restraints all night, yelling demands and obscenities that either went unheard or ignored.

He was kneeling on the floor in an attempt to centre his resolve and restore his spirit when he heard light footsteps descending into the dark pit and allowed a fleeting smile to curve his lips.

Silence reigned supreme as the dark haired warrior that had captured him led her associate towards the cage, releasing the heavy bolts before swinging the door open invitingly to the other woman.

Wanheda strode calmly into the cage, hands clasped behind her back as she gazed down upon her prisoner. The black shirt decorated with a laced front seemed to merge seamlessly with the dark legwear. She appearing to be more of a shadow in person than the famed man himself.

She towered over him for a long moment as he waited for the blows to rain down before eventually realising that none were to come. Vaughn slowly raised his eyes to meet those of death herself, the tales of her destruction and power overwhelming his thoughts for the briefest of moments before he regained his senses.

"The famed Wanheda," he mocked hoarsely, his throat dry and sore from hours of pointless shouting. "I know all about you."

"Tell me who sent you here."

Vaughn chuckled to himself, coughing sharply as he throat protested against the motion.

'You will know nothing until it's too late.'

He was attempting to draw rash emotion from the woman, any sign that his words might be breaking through her impenetrable mask. He would not succeed.

"How many of you are there?"

"You are wasting your breath."

Clarke paused and assessed the stubborn prisoner before continuing. Perhaps it was time to use his own tactics against him.

"Did you think us foolish enough to leave the tunnel unguarded? Your entrance to this city was about as subtle as a Pauna. I find it humorous that you chose Shadow as your alias."

Vaughn was having none of it, ignoring the mocking tone in her voice and instead focusing on the anger burning in his chest as if it would wash away the pain.

"I will reveal nothing to you!"

"If not you, then perhaps another conspirator will. It's fortunate that we captured so many of you last night, I wonder who will squeal first."

Clarke mused the notion almost to herself, but was satisfied to witness the glimpse of uncertainty in the prisoners demeanour that began to sow seeds of doubt with every passing moment.

"Then I'm a dead man?"

"That depends on how helpful you are. If not, perhaps you will be trialled and found guilty of treason, or perhaps we won't bother with the theatrics. What do you think Octavia?"

The dark haired woman nodded her agreement, arms crossed over her chest as she looked down on the prisoner in distaste.

"No point in keeping dead weight around when there are others who are willing to answer our questions."

Vaughn was visibly shaking as anger invaded his peaceful composure.

"You can't just leave me down here to die like an animal! I was sent here to bring this alliance to its knees and another will only succeed where I have failed!"

"The alliance only grows stronger with your futile attempts at treachery. The only one on their knees here is you."

Vaughn choked out a laugh as he pulled uselessly against the restraints, a mad sneer curling his lips in disgust for all that he saw before him.

"Mark my words Wanheda, my brethren will see your people cold and lifeless before the year is out. Our true Queen will ascend and life will be glorious."

Clarke did not let the icy chill in her bones show, her face a mask of indifference as the words brought a tension to her chest. An ominous warning to say the least, but the man had given her information and that's what mattered.

She recalled the assassin who had ruined the romantic trip to the coast only a few months ago and how he had mentioned the 'Queen'. At the time she had assumed this to be a reference to Nia's death, but now she was not so certain it had anything to do with the former Queen at all.

"A shame that you will not live to see how wrong you are."

The two locked eyes for a long moment, fire and ice fighting for a foothold to gain an advantage over the other.

Before any further taunts or threats could be thrown, there was a commotion from above and the two woman cast there eyes up as if to gaze through the floor itself as the cell door was heaved open and a frantic voice called out to them.

"Wanheda! Come quickly!"

The urgency in his tone was evident and Clarke fought back a shudder as she heard what might have been a scream echo from the distance. She sorely hoped that she had been mistaken.

"I told you," Vaughn cackled, rising to his feet as Wanheda ignored him and began a hasty retreat to the surface, "You would be wise not to underestimate us."

The crazed man pulled against his restraints to continue his taunts when the fierce warrior, who had once been so calmly posed against the far wall, approached the now upright figure and sent a powerful blow from her gloved hand into his chest, sending him hurtling back down to the hard ground with a grunt of pain.

"And you would be wise to shut the hell up," she snarled, leaving the man to writhe on the ground and clutch at his chest breathlessly as she retraced her steps back out of the cell, taking the steps two at a time as she wondered what nightmare would be awaiting them this time.

Thanks for reading this chapter, leave a comment and let me know what you thought :D