A/N: Here is chapter two. Chapter three will be posted this week-end, so that AO3 and FFnet may be both on the same page. Then you will have weekly updates.
I also wished to answer a review of last chapter from a guest (usually, I use PMs) about how I would have portrayed an out of character Bellamy, and that is was not 'fair' to him. I f you are not interested in this explanation, you can skip it.
So: 1- This is one fanfiction. I can also be annoyed when a character is completely OOC, but I would like you not to judge my opinion on the whole character based on what I do with him in only one fic. If you must know, I believe Bellamy and Clarke work really well as a team (though I don't see them as a couple) and was disappointed in the way that team was broken in season 3. In fact, I am writing on another 100 fic where Bellamy and Clarke will work as a close team but it is not advanced enough yet for me to start publishing it.
2- In this particular fic, Bellamy is not a major character. If you enjoy fics where his role is important, this is not it. Simply because, in this fic, Clarke and Bellamy's team was never formed. As a consequence, I did not see the need to detail his own backstory or point of view. Also, this chapter is from Clarke's POV, and she was not exactly fond of Bellamy at this point in the show either.
3- SPOIL if you really need more backstory to accept his actions in this fic, here are a few key-points. Bellamy has already killed (or thinks he has) Jaha, to protect his sister. He is doing whatever he can to prevent the Ark from coming down, even after Clarke revealed the oxygen problem. That is the same as the show. My first divergence for him is that he killed Jasper and Atom, but in both cases, it was mercy kills - later in the story, it will be plainly said that Japser begged to be killed much as Atom did in the show. Anyway, this would have led Clarke - who knows she could have healed both - to be angry at Bellamy. You can even say that she is unfairly angry at him, since he did not know. But the main point is that this anger would have prevented them to come together as a team. This anger is why Clarke accused Bellamy of Wells death instead of Murphy - so yeah, she is far from being in the right. Basically, Bellamy was challenged in his leadership by Clarke, and in this fic she gave him no opportunity of alliance. So, to protect his sister, and perhaps to be able to say that he had not killed Jaha and come to the ground for nothing, he was forced to eliminate her. Even when he 'kills' her, he acts tough but still chooses a way where his own role is minimal - he does not wield the weapon.
So yeah, Bellamy is different from what he became in the show, but his actions do not come from nowhere, or from my supposed general bashing of the character. There are always two sides to a story. I just only gave you Clarke's, because this story will focus on her, and later Lexa. Similarly, you may not like how I portrayed Clarke and Lexa in the first few chapters - some did not on AO3 - but keep in mind that circumstances are different. This Clarke is alone, but she has yet to face any real violence on the ground or be forced to kill someone herself. She is still full of dreams and ideals.
She spent the three following days in the village, learning more of the language – which she guessed had been derived from English. because many words sounded similar or truncated – and helping with several tasks in exchange of the hospitality. She gathered wood, weaved baskets, played with and watched over the children.
But as enjoyable as life was withthose villagers, she still felt too close to her former camp. She knew the delinquents would have to forage for food further and further away from the dropship. They could stumble on this village and her during one of those expeditions, and she was not certain how they would react if they did – it would depend on far too many things for her to gamble on it.
And the adults were bound to become more curious about her as time passed. She was quite certain they had only refrained from asking her questions because they mistook her for a traveler, and because she was still far from fluent in their language.
On the last evening, she indicated her desire to continue her journey – to the disappointment of the children, so she promised to draw their favorite animal on the wall of their rooms. The villagers insisted to offer her a bag with a few essentials – a wooden bowl, a better knife than her own, a few stripes of leather for her snares, and a comb that seemed made from antlers. She accepted gratefully.
The next day, she made her way back to the river and continued to follow it upstream. She spent the next few days in a routine similar to before she found the village, but her nights were much more comfortable with warm clothes and the thick cloak. She had also learnt to recognize more berries, as well as prepare and position her snares better, so she had enough to eat. It was certainly not a feast, but it was more than the half-rations she used to have in solitary – when the guards didn't steal it for themselves.
After a week, though, she decided to find another village and settle near it. She should be far enough away for no delinquents to find her by chance, yet still close enough to easily retrace her steps if she decided to return.
Moreover, the days were growing colder and the trees were losing their leaves. Berries were not as plentiful, and she knew she had to find a more permanent place to prepare for the winter. She had no idea of when exactly it would arrive, nor what it would entail besides the cold and general lack of food – rain? snow? blizzard?
A day after leaving the first village, her wristband had fallen. She had felt an electrical shock up her right arm, and the thing had just stopped functioning and broken open. She had stumbled at the sensation and then stared at it for a long minute, waiting for the constant humming to return. When it did not, she retrieved it and put it in her bag. It might be worth something in trading.
She just hoped this meant the Ark had collected enough data, or that Monty had managed to reach them.
She got her answer a couple of days later, when a shower of shooting stars illuminated the night sky. Realizing what it was – a massive funeral – she cried herself to sleep in her cave that night. Had Bellamy managed to remove enough wristbands for the Ark to think they were dying of radiation or something? She knew her own wristband was undamaged. It could work – it had just been suddenly deactivated. Who could do that if not the Ark?
She hoped her mother had examined the data and would convince the Council that there were no radiations. She hoped Monty would find a way. She prayed her mother would find her way to the ground, and to her. She had already lost all her friends – either because they were dead, or because they believed that she was dead – she didn't want to lose her last family.
She found another village a few days later. It was a much bigger one, with several dozen of houses, and she observed it from afar for a while. She had accumulated a few furs to trade, along with her wristband, but she was worried of how she would be received. Unless the other village, there were clearly warriors in this one.
Realizing that she would not be able to just walk in as she had done the last time, she climbed in a tree to observe before deciding on a course of action. If it appeared too complicated to get inside, she would just have to push forwards a couple more days until she found a smaller, less guarded village.
From her vantage point, Clarke noticed a small group approaching the village. There was something strange, though. The shape of the figures was odd, and the pace seemed extremely fast for a human.
As they drew closer, her jaw dropped. Horses. Real, living, horses, carrying more warriors.
She was not the only one interested in the visitors, it seemed, as she saw many villagers abandoned what they were doing to mass towards the entrance of the village. Clarke decided to use the confusion to slip in. The warriors seemed to be guarding the edges more than patrolling in the streets, and with many visitors, people should be less likely to notice her, right?
Sneaking in was ridiculously easy, as the guards seemed young and clearly more interested in whoever was arriving – straining their necks towards the commotion – than in actually watching the forest and bushes. Once in the streets, Clarke noticed the huge amount of food being prepared and the unlit bonfire, as well as a few kegs that must be containing some alcoholic beverage. It seemed she had stumbled upon a feast. Perhaps the chief of the village was the one arriving, or some local famous person?
Shaking her head, she took it upon herself to approach a few people and, using her basic trigedasleng – that was the name of the language – explained her wish to trade. She was pointed to a few stalls in the main streets and resigned herself to making her way through the crowd.
By then, the riders had also reached the main street. A huge man was following a young woman, both dressed as warriors, and two smaller but still impressive riders followed them, carrying bows across their backs. An escort.
They stopped in the main street – much to Clarke's annoyance – and dismounted. The two archers immediately grabbed the horses of the first two warriors and led them away, while the woman saluted the crowd and started a speech. Apparently, she was the one the crowd was waiting for. She looked young – just a few years older than hersefl, Clarke estimated.
Clarke couldn't understand what she was saying – too many unknown words – and didn't care. She shouldered and elbowed her way to the front of the crowd while muttering apologies, still intent on reaching the stall that had been indicated to her and that was, of course, on the other side of the street.
Perhaps because she was the only one not focused on the young woman, she saw them even before the huge warrior. Three people suddenly jumped towards the young woman, daggers in hand. She must have been an accomplished warrior, because she managed to dodge two of the knives while unsheathing her sword and knocking away the third, which ended up cutting her left harm instead of piercing her heart. The huge warrior immediately stepped forward to engage the other two.
Neither noticed the fourth one, who had obviously waited for the distraction provided by the other three to attack from the back. No one else noticed, the crowd screaming and staring at the fight or running away from it.
No one but Clarke.
She didn't think. She just ran, afraid that screaming a warning would simply allow the first three to gain the upper hand. She reached the woman an instant before the fourth assassin and threw herself in the path of the knife. She felt it bury itself deep in the side of her chest and groaned in pain, but grabbed the arm of the attacker with a snarl. Meanwhile, the woman had dispatched her first opponent and, hearing the commotion behind her, swirled around.
Clarke saw green eyes widen as they took in the scene and gritted her teeth when the assassin twisted the knife in an effort to make her release his arm. The warrior woman recovered quickly and skewered him before he could pull away.
The weight of the man falling to the ground and the pain made Clarke fall to her knees. She was surprised to see the woman stumble as well, using her sword as a crutch. She didn't seem to have any wound apart from the nick on her arm. She was surprised to see black liquid oozing from the wound – was that blood?
Then she felt the burning sensation in her chest and saw the sweat on the forehead of the woman.
Poison. Fucking assassins had poisoned their knives.
She glanced behind her. The huge warrior had killed the last two men and seemed fine. When he realized his charge was struggling to remain upwards, he turned to the crowd and screamed for a Fisa.
Clarke grabbed the knife in her chest, and felt a warm hand touch her arm.
She was surprised to hear the woman speak English.
''Don't. You will bleed to death.''
Clarke smiled. ''Don't worry.''
She pulled out the knife with a moan of pain and let it fall to the ground. Then she turned to the woman who had fallen to her knees – from the poison or the shock of seeing her wound close immediately, Clarke didn't know.
''How..?''
Clarke shook her head. She had felt the poison spreading fast before she removed the knife, if the woman had been inoculated with the same one, now was not the time for conversation. She had failed Jasper and Atom, she would not fail this woman. And her secret was already out, anyway.
She raised her hand towards the woman and saw her flinch. She paused.
''I am not gonna hurt you. I am a healer.''
Without waiting to see if the woman agreed, she grabbed her left wrist in her dominant hand and placed her right palm on the wound. The woman hissed in pain at the pressure, and Clarke felt her shoulders being grabbed by someone. Whoever it was tried to pull her away, but she held onto the woman's arm until she felt only smooth skin beneath her palm. Then she released her hold and was immediately thrown to the ground.
''Gustus, no!'' She recognized the voice of the young woman. ''She saved me!''
Unfortunately, the huge warrior was unable to stop his arm before he punched her face. She saw stars and felt darkness envelop her.
She woke up in a bed of fur, and noticed that the ceiling was made of cloth. A tent, she surmised.
She sat up, remembering what had happened before she lost consciousness. This warrior had a nasty right hook, and without her gift she would probably be nursing a concussion.
''You are awake.''
She turned towards the voice. The woman from earlier was sat in a chair next to her bed, staring at her.
Clarke looked around as she replied. ''Your warrior can certainly pack a punch.'' The tent was huge, and she was currently in a section separated from the main area by a big fur that seemed to work as a curtain.
''I apologize for Gustus. He didn't realize you weren't part of the attack when you grabbed my arm.''
Clarke waved the apology away. ''No harm done. Are you the one in charge of the village?'' She asked curiously.
The woman's lips curled in amusement and disbelief. ''You do not know who I am?''
Clarke focused back on her. ''Er… Should I?''
Green eyes filled with amusement. ''I am Lexa, Commander of the Twelve Clans.''
That sounded important. ''Oh.''
So eloquent. Really, that was probably the most thought-out thing she had ever said, she sarcastically berated herself.
She mentally shook herself. ''And, er… What does that mean?''
She saw the amusement dissolve into disbelief and distrust. She grimaced. Somehow, that had clearly not been the right thing to say. ''I meant no offense. I am kind of new in the area, and just passing through.''
She hoped that would work. It was enirely true, after all. And if that person was as important as her title sounded, it would probably be wise not to insult her.
The woman shook her head and explained. ''There are twelve clans that share the lands between the Dead Lands, the Frozen Lands and the Sea. This village is part of the Trikru, the Woods Clan. I am Heda – Commander – and united the clans in a Coalition. I am in charge of this Kongeda.''
Clarke nodded, absorbing the information. She had apparently stumbled on an assassination attempt on the most powerful person of the former East Coast. Great.
She glanced at the fur that led to the main area. Was she allowed to go?
''Er… Are the stalls still open? I was hoping to trade.'' She tried, hoping for a quick thank you and an equally quick dismissal.
Lexa sat straighter in her chair.
''I have a few questions for you.''
Of course. The woman had just seen her heal from a poisoned stab wound in the chest, and then seal her own poisoned wound on the arm. It was probably too much to hope that she would just nod her head, smile and let it go.
It would have been nice, though. She grimaced and let herself fall back in the bed, glaring at the ceiling. She had a feeling it was safer than glaring at the Commander.
''Who are you?''
Clarke hesitated. Should she give her real name? Make one up? She glanced at the warrior, who was growing impatient. Her hand was resting on her sword handle. The blonde huffed, irritated by the whole situation.
''My name is Clarke.'' She snapped and nodded towards the sword. ''And you can put that away. Rather than resorting to violence, I offer you a deal. You ask all your questions, I swear I will tell you the truth. But if I don't want to answer, you don't force me.''
The woman looked affronted. ''You believe you are in position to make demands?''
Clarke raised on her elbows. She could not have an argument laying down. ''I just saved your life, and I don't owe you anything.'' She pointed out. She smirked and added. ''Besides, you saw what happened when that guy stabbed me. Do you honestly think your sword will be any different?''
The woman's hand clenched for a second then relaxed. She exhaled slowly as she released her grip on her weapon.
''You are right, it was unfair of me to threaten you and make demands when I owe you my life. I will accept your deal. For now.'' She unstrapped her sword and laid it on a nearby table. Then she raised an eyebrow at Clarke. ''May I ask my questions now?''
That girl had spunk. Clarke nodded. ''Fire away.''
The Commander's face was confused for a second, but she obviously decided to ignore it for now. Clarke took note of the fact that she was apparently not fluent in expressions and second degree.
''Where are you from?''
She deliberated. Would she believe her if she said from space? Did she know about the delinquents? Jasper had received a spear in the chest when he crossed the river. Probably better not to answer that for now.
''Next question.'' She said, deadpan.
Lexa frowned. ''Are you going to answer that to all my questions? This should be an easy one.''
''Not for me. So, next question.''
''Are you from Azgeda?''
''Where is that?'' Clarke asked in reply, curious at how the other woman had tensed when she mentioned the name.
''The Clan north of here.'' She explained.
''Ah. No, I have mostly traveled west and north this last week. I have never been higher in the north than here.''
Lexa nodded. ''You are traveling. Where are you going?''
''I don't know.'' She heard the Commander hiss in frustration. She sighed and elaborated. ''I don't have a destination, I don't even know the name of this place. I was hoping to find some cave or shelter soon to prepare for winter.''
She felt the stare directed at her. ''Do you travel alone?''
''Yes.''
''Why? The woods can be dangerous so close to the cold season. Predators are hungry.''
Clarke grimaced. She had no wish to explain everything that happened at the dropship. Again, she wondered if the Commander knew of the hundred delinquents that had appeared in her lands – or perhaps they had been lucky and had landed just beyond the border?
''Next question.'' She decided.
''Really?'' Lexa protested.
Clarke turned towards her. ''If I don't want to talk about where I am from, is it really so surprising that I won't say why I am alone either?''
The warrior sighed and admitted. ''I suppose not.'' Then she looked her in the eyes. ''How did you heal yourself? And me?''
Clarke chuckled. ''I am actually surprised you waited so long to ask that one.'' She shrugged. ''I can't really explain how. I just can.''
Lexa tilted her head. ''I must say I am surprised you answered that one, however unhelpful your answer is.''
Clarke sat up again, tired of looking at the ceiling, and situated herself across from the other woman, cross-legged on the bed. ''I don't think I could convince you that you just had an hallucination, so why not? It is not something I can teach anyone. It is just a part of who I am. I was born that way.''
Eyebrows shot up. ''Why have I never heard of you before?''
She shrugged. ''I don't usually advertise it. As far as I know, you are the first one to find out outside of my parents.''
''Why help me, then? If you value secrecy so much, and do not know who I am.'' She asked with genuine curiosity.
''Circumstances changed. And I am tired of seeing people die when I could help them.'' She gestured towards where she supposed the entrance of the tent was. ''You obviously matter to a lot of people.''
''I was certainly lucky you were passing through today. That poison was fast.''
She stayed silent, obviously considering everything she had heard so far.
She looked at her intensely as she resumed her questions. ''You said you traveled west and north. You speak gonasleng. Are you from the Mountain? Mount Weather?''
Clarke startled, and Lexa obviously noticed, tensing. ''Mount Weather? Why would I be from there? Isn't it abandoned?'' She asked, confused.
Lexa's eyes narrowed. ''You know the name. Yet your confusion seems genuine.'' She paused again, and Clarke glanced nervously at the fur again.
''You are one of those goufas who fell from the sky.'' Lexa stated.
Clarke deflated. So much for keeping her origins secret. She sighed her answer. ''Yes.''
''Why are you here and alone, then? It is quite a distance to travel by foot.''
She grimaced. ''Long story short, I disagreed too much with the guy who had appointed himself leader. More and more people were listening to me, so he threw me in this panther trap and left me to die on those spikes.''
Lexa looked shocked. ''And you survived that?'' She exclaimed.
Clarke just raised an eyebrow and stared at her, amused. Damn, it felt good to not have to come up with a lie and just watch as realization dawned on the brunette's features.
The young woman's lips curled. ''Of course. Does your… ability have some sort limitations, or are you somehow immortal?''
She scoffed. ''Do you seriously expect me to answer that one?'' She paused, considering. ''I age normally though. So that's a no for the immortal part.''
She saw the other woman nod. She decided to ask a question of her own. ''Since you know where I am from, can you tell me what happened to the others? Do you know?''
''Your former companions set a village on fire. I authorized Anya, one of my generals, to deal with them. I asked her to bring the prisoners back to Polis.''
Clarke paled and stifled. ''Does that mean you will make me prisoner, too?''
Lexa tilted her head again. ''I was asking myself the same thing. You must have been gone already when your former companions destroyed one of my villages, so you have committed no crime against my people. And you saved my life today.''
Clarke relaxed, but Lexa was not finished. ''However, as a leader, I cannot allow you to go when you might hold important information. I do not know how many prisoners Anya will capture, if any, nor how knowledgeable they will be. Apparently, you could have become their leader if someone had not tried to murder you.''
''You just admitted that you ordered one of your generals to kill my companions – some of them are my friends. Why should I help you anymore than I already have?'' She retorted.
''Because if you agree to accompany me to Polis – as a guest – you might be reunited with some of your friends. Anya will give an opportunity to your companions to surrender before she storms the camp, and my warriors would not kill an opponent that decides to lay down his weapon. You may plead for them.'' The Commander argued.
She paused and added with a soft smile. ''You said you needed to find a place for winter, anyway.''
Clarke sighed. ''I don't really have a choice, do I? Not when you hold my people's lives in your hands.'' Her eyes flashed. ''But you should remember, Lexa. You can't kill me. That means I don't need to be trained in combat to kill you. Don't give me a reason to.''
''Will you kill me if Anya reports that she killed your friends?'' Lexa asked, impassive.
Clarke clenched her teeth, considering. She answered in a low voice. ''If she really gave them a chance to surrender, and they truly burned a village, then no. I hope for you that your general is good at following orders.''
From the slightly troubled look that appeared on Lexa's face, Clarke guessed that she was not. The Commander rose.
''This is my tent. You will stay here tonight. We will depart for Polis tomorrow.'' She went to the fur and looked over her shoulder just before she exited this part of the tent. ''You should know. People saw what happened. They are calling you the Healing Nymph. Stories of your powers will probably reach Polis before we do.''
Clarke snorted. ''I get the healing part, but Nymph? Where does that come from?'' She shook her head.
''The old world had legends of fair-haired beings that lived in the woods, and were called nymphs. Your appearance is hard not to notice.'' She saw Lexa look her up and down and felt herself blushing. Was the Commander of the Twelve Clans checking her out? Seriously?
''Yeah, I noticed. Rare phenotype and all that.'' She replied as she looked away to hide her embarassment. Nymph? Weren't the fair-haired creatures called fairies in those old tales? Not that it mattered, really.
Lexa looked confused, but shrugged and exited as she commented. ''You use strange words, Klark kom skaikru.''