The next day, Clarke found herself staring dubiously at the horse Lexa offered her. It was magnificent, really. And softer and warmer than she had expected.
But it was huge. And she was expected to climb on top of it.
She glanced at the woman next to her. ''You do realize I have never ridden a horse before?'' She finally asked in a weak voice as she tried to estimate how painful falling off would be.
The Commander blinked. ''Were there no horses in the sky?''
Clarke couldn't help it. She knew it might offend her, but the question was so sincere and innocent, she was unable to suppress her laugh, shaking her head in answer. The idea of stables like the ones behind her in the Ark… She couldn't stop.
Lexa glared at her. ''How did you travel long distances, then?'' She asked.
Memories from the Ark, while not all unhappy, were enough to make her laughter die out. ''We did not.'' She simply replied.
Lexa apparently understood that she had no wish to expand on the subject, and simply nodded in acknowledgment. ''I will help you mount, and we will go slow at first. Simple rule: the horse will always bring you were you look. So do not look to the ground.''
And with that, Clarke was on top of a horse for the first time.
It was strange, to feel an animal move between your legs as it carried you. To feel its strength, and trust it to help you rather than crush you. Lexa spent the first couple of hours glancing at her and giving her pointers. Don't pull on the reins. Keep your heels low. Don't fidget in your saddle. And so on.
She was riding next to Lexa, behind Gustus and in front of the other two guards. Despite Lexa's advices, she couldn't stop her gaze from wandering everywhere. Somehow, the world looked slightly different when seen from higher, and as soon as she was confident enough to let go of one hand on the reins, she playfully grasped at the leaves and branches around the path. She admired the leaf veins and the diverse smells, remembering her Earth skills classes. The real hing were much prettier than Pike's pictures or drawings.
The Commander watched her for a while and eventually spoke up.
''You act like a child. Were there no trees in the sky either?'' She commented.
Clarke turned towards her. ''No. There were a few plants in Farm Station, though. But I only saw them once.''
Lexa seemed disturbed by her reply. ''What was it like, then? In the sky? It sounds very different from here.''
The blonde looked at the forest around her. There was so much life. Birds chirping, leaves rustling in the wind, the sound of the horses hooves. She thought back on how everything was on the Ark. It had not bothered her then, because it was the only thing she knew, but now, comparing with the ground…
''Lifeless.'' She answered with a shrug. ''Cold. Suffocating. Quite literally, actually.'' She added as an afterthought.
''Suffocating? What do you mean?'' Her companion asked, obviously catching her slight grimace at the word.
Clarke pointed to the sky. ''There is no air up there. We had to create and purify our own.'' She paused, searching for an analogy. ''I saw people making tea in the villages. Have you ever used the same leaves several times?''
A small smile. ''I do not care for strong tea in the evening, so I usually use the leaves from my morning tea.''
She nodded. ''It the same with the air we had up there. We used the same one over and over, but over time it became poorer and poorer.'' She looked around again. ''It was so… overwhelming when we landed. Seeing trees. Breathing pure, fresh, rich air. Feeling a soft soil under our feet. The blue sky. Clouds. And so many colors. All at once, and for the first time.''
Lexa frowned. ''I would never have thought that living in the sky would be so… empty.''
Clarke smiled. ''Space is empty. That's why we only had what had been brought to the Ark before the bombs destroyed the old world.''
She watched as the woman turned her gaze to the sky, searching. ''What does your home, this Ark, look like?''
''You won't be able to see it now. I can point it to you tonight if the sky is clear, if you wish.'' She offered.
Lexa seemed surprised. ''You would show me the way to the home of your people? Even though you think I might be an enemy to them?''
Clarke just smirked.
They camped in a clearing that night. One of the guards went away while they prepared the tents, and came back with a deer slung over his shoulders. Clarke stared at the bow he held.
''I really need to learn how to use a thing like that.'' She muttered under her breath, thinking back on her snares. She would have a much easier time making provisions if she did not limit herself to rodents and rabbits.
The hunter heard her, and offered her his bow and one arrow, pointing at a distant tree.
''Let us see if you can hit that tree, Nymph.'' He proposed without malice.
Hesitantly, she took the bow in her right hand, loaded it and pulled back her left arm. The bow itself was heavy, and her arm trembled as she tried to pull the string all the way to her face. A few weeks on the ground and an irregular amount of proteins since landing had not allowed her to build much muscle. Not that she had had any back in the Ark – physical exercise was frowned upon as it was a waste of oxygen.
She released the arrow and watched it fall pitifully a couple feet in front of the tree. She snorted at herself.
''Guess I should just stick to the snares.'' She declared as she gave the bow back to the hunter.
''Not necessarily.'' She heard and turned around. Lexa was watching her, analyzing.
She continued. ''Your aim is good, though your stance needs refining. And you lack the strength to shoot far, but that is easily remedied with time and practice.''
Lips curled, almost mocking. ''It is strange to see a woman with impressive healing unable to pull that string.''
Clarke mock-glowered. ''I have only been here for a few weeks. And we both know who would win a fight between us.'' She added with a smirk.
Lexa considered. ''If my purpose was to kill you, I would most likely fail, yes. But given your current strength, I could easily overpower you. And all abilities, no matter how great, have limits. You already admitted that your body aged.''
She tilted her head at the remark. ''You call that a limit? I think it would be a curse to live forever.'' She gestured at the clearing and motioned at the guards, ignoring the way Gustus seemed to keep an eye on her. ''The world was basically burned to ashes a hundred years ago. You think that would teach us something. Yet here we are, going at each other's throat with weapons.'' She observed disgustedly. ''If my abilities forced me to live through it all again and again, I would certainly search for a way to kill myself and just make it stop.'' She concluded.
''It is a rather sad vision of our world.'' The other woman commented as she sat down near the fire.
Clarke joined her. ''You don't strike me as an overly cheery person either.''
Lexa's brow furrowed. ''Why would I strike you?''
''It's a figure of speech. I just meant that you did not seem to be someone who laughs easily.'' Clarke explained with a soft smile. She wondered if she shouldn't use more second degree. Just because.
''Oh. I suppose that's true. I have too many responsibilities as Heda to run around laughing like a goufa.''
Clarke leaned back, extending her legs. Riding had been hard on her atrophied muscles, but her natural healing had spared her any cramping. Still, it felt good to stretch them.
''I never asked: what were those assassins? I mean, obviously as Commander you have enemies, but do you know who sent them? And why?''
''The Coalition is still new.'' Lexa explained. ''Some clans would like to see me fail, and use their armies to subdue the smaller ones. Gustus and I examined and searched the bodies. There were no clues as to who sent them, but we suspect Azgeda.''
Clarke frowned. ''That's the northern clan you were afraid I was from, right?''
A nod was the only answer.
''Do you expect some other attempt on the road to Polis?'' She asked.
''I would be a fool to expect my enemies to give up when they nearly succeeded on their last try.'' She simply stated before looking at her. ''Your presence by my side may give them pause, though, Healing Nymph.''
She paused, observing her face before adding. ''Assassins may come for you too.''
Clarke stared at her in disbelief. ''Me? Why?'' She turned her head and watched the flames with narrowed eyes. ''Because I saved your life?''
That would be just her luck – run away from a murderer in her camp to end up with some bounty on her head less than two weeks later. Life on the ground was definetely not what she had imagined in her cell.
''In part, as they might see it as a necessary step to kill me. But mostly because of your powers.''
''Wouldn't I be more useful alive? To... I don't know, to heal warriors or whatever?'' She argued.
''My people believe that we absorb the strength and powers of an enemy when we kill it. I believe you can understand how much of a prize your death would be.''
Clarke scoffed. ''Your people will be disappointed. One, I am hard to kill. And two, my abilities don't work that way. You are born with it, or you are not. End of story.''
''Why were you? Born with it?'' Lexa asked. ''I noticed you were left-handed, when you tried the bow. It is said people who favor their left hand are either blessed or cursed. Was this your blessing from the Spirit?''
She was surprised by the sudden show of faith – or perhaps superstition. She hadn't really seen any signs of a religion in the two villages, but then again she could have overlooked them. She hadn't really wondered if they believed in anything. Apparently, they did.
''Er… No. It just runs in the family. My father had it, and my mother does too. Well part of it. Other people did before, too. From what you say, I guess they didn't survive the radiations. Mom said that my gift of healing people was stronger than hers, and she believes it is because I have the whole deal.''
Lexa was confused. ''Part of it? The whole deal?''
Clarke pulled up her legs. ''I heal myself. It is not conscious, it happens whenever I am hurt or sick. That is one gift. I can heal others, by touching their wounds, or simply their skin if it is a sickness. That is another gift. But in very ancient times, this was united in a single, original gift, which then divided itself. My father could heal himself, and my mother can heal others. I inherited both, so I have the original gift, you could say.'' She explained.
''Your father is passed away.'' Lexa said slowly, clearly hoping for an explanation.
She gritted her teeth and clenched her fists. She remembered her father telling her mother and her about the oxygen problem. His wanting to talk to Jaha about it, and warn the population if Jaha wouldn't listen. The Chancellor refused to tell the people and threatened to float their entire family. Jake prepared a video with his message, gave a copy to Abby for safe-keeping and to use when she felt the time was right. Then he told his wife to run to Jaha and denounce him.
So that both her and her mother would be spared.
She couldn't keep herself from trying to fight off the guards when they came, though. And Jaha didn't trust her to keep quiet – she had been involved in a fair number of questionable explorations and pranks with Wells, and only been spared the Sky box because she was with the Chancellor's son. So she ended up in solitary. Her mother had never been allowed to visit her, until they went to put her inside the dropship.
Her mother. She hoped she was okay. That the delinquents managed to send word to the Ark, somehow. That her mother would never need to use her father's recording and be floated for it.
Lexa was still looking at her, waiting.
''I don't want to talk about it.''
''The memory is painful to you. I can see it.'' She paused and turned her gaze to the fire. ''I lost someone special to me too. Her name was Costia. The queen of Azgeda tortured her. Because she was mine, and she wanted to know my secrets. Then she sent me her head.'' Lexa told her in a voice devoid of emotion.
''My teacher always repeated that love is weakness. That to be Commander is to be alone. Otherwise, I open myself to hurt and give my enemies leverage. It took Costia's death for me to finally accept this truth.'' She concluded in the same voice.
Clarke shook her head. ''I am sorry for what happened. But I could never believe that. Hope, and love for my friends and my mother is what kept me going after Bellamy tried to kill me. Love is what kept me from madness over this last year in solitary.''
Lexa's voice rose slightly as she argued. ''You should. When people will realize that they can't kill you, they will use those you care about to destroy you.''
''You are the Commander of the Twelve Clans. What keeps you going, if not love?'' Clarke objected. ''Azgeda hurt you, personally and deeply. But they are part of your Coalition, aren't they? Which means you let them in. Why?''
''I did it because it was the best choice for my people. To bring peace.'' She replied firmly, nearly growling.
''You did it because you care for your people. It is a form of love. Even now, you are not planning on acting against Azgeda because you have no proof, and you don't want to start a war.'' The blonde declared, refusing to back down.
''I will grant you that. But it is not the same kind of love. It is not a selfish one.'' She said with finality.
''I spent almost a year cut off from everyone I knew. Or from any sort of human contact, really. I know the kind of things loneliness does to a mind. If you truly cared for no one personally, you wouldn't be as sound of mind as you are.'' She lifted a hand when she saw Lexa about to reply and continued. ''I am not telling you to move on from Costia and find someone else. I am not telling you to start hugging everyone you know. But don't lie to yourself.''
She lowered her voice to a whisper, mindful that the guards were near and might overhear. ''I have known you for barely a day. But I have eyes. If I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn't target those two.'' She said, nodding towards the two warriors that were cooking the deer. ''I would kill Gustus. His death would affect you much more.''
Lexa's head snapped up and she held her gaze, watching the quiet fury and fear she saw in those green eyes.
Clarke softened her voice and smiled. ''People do many things for love. Some are grand. Some are stupid. It is a force. Ignoring it does not absolve you from it. It just makes you less likely to recognize it, and how it affects you.''
''Of course, if you show open care, you paint a target on the person.'' She conceded to the brunette.
Sensing that Lexa would not say anything more about the subject, she gazed at the night sky. She pointed towards a constellation.
''Do you see these stars? They make the shape of a sword, with some imagination.''
Lexa followed her gaze. ''I do.''
''And do you see this small bright star, off to the right of the pommel?''
She nodded. ''Why are you showing me stars now, Clarke?''
She shrugged. ''You wanted to see my home. This bright star is the Ark.''
She saw the eyebrows rise as Lexa located the star again.
Clarke smiled, amused. ''So, are you planning on invading us soon, Commander?'' She joked.
The rest of the evening was mostly silent, except when Lexa informed her that they would again share her tent. Her reasons were simple: it was easier to guard one tent instead of two now that both might be assassination targets. The tent was much smaller than the one from the previous day, obviously designed to be put up and folded quickly. It was divided in two main areas. Lexa indicated that Clarke would sleep with her in the one that was in the back. The three guards would keep watch and sleep in the first area, near the entrance.
Clarke was grateful for the quiet, as it allowed her to think about all that had happened over the last day and a half. Somehow, she had stumbled upon the most powerful person on this part of Earth, and was now in a position that might allow her to help the delinquents – at least those that had survived until now. But that person was also the one who had ordered her former camp to be attacked, and the blonde was still miffed that this had been the first response of the Commander. The only reason she had not voiced her objections and decided not to pass judgment yet was this story of a burned village. If such a thing had really happened, she could understand the wish to retaliate, even if she would still have wished for some kind of discussions first.
Yet, she had to accept that she did not know much of the grounders society. It was becoming glaringly obvious, and would need to be remedied if she hoped to help her friends. Warrior, she was starting to realize, was a status as much as it was a job. And to give the title of Commander to such an important person, as well as the wars the brunette had mentioned… It was clearly some sort of military society. So, perhaps it was not so surprising that retaliation was the first option that had come to mind. Negociations might be reserved for terms of surrender, after a show of strength.
And if she ignored the Commander, she had to admit that she appreciated Lexa. She was smart, clearly devoted to those she cared about – no matter how much she would deny it – and open-minded. She had accepted that Clarke refused to share parts of her past for now, and strived to understand her – to her – strange reactions and culture.
Moreover, she was intrigued by the interactions of Lexa and the Commander. Whenever the other woman had asked her a question today, it had been out of Lexa's curiosity, but she could see an analytical gleam in her eyes that reminded her that the Commander would not miss a single piece of information. Yet, when she let it slip that her father had died, the Commander had sacrificed her search of information to spare Clarke's feelings.
She supposed that she would not see as much of Lexa if they did not have several days until they reached Polis, and answers and decisions became necessary. Part of her feared the change that might occur when they would reach the capitol.
The Commander, from what little she had seen of her, was fair but ruthless.
Unable to fall asleep, she turned to watch the other woman lying on a cot of furs a few feet away. Soft features were relaxed in sleep, and brown braided hair hid part of her face. She seemed young, younger than she had first guessed, and almost fragile. Glancing at the dagger she could see peeking from under the pillow, Clarke reminded herself that this woman had fought off two assassins with a poisoned wound on her arm.
She also recalled the black blood she had seen oozing from the wound, and that she had washed of her hands after her first discussion with the brunette. She had not had the opportunity to ask her about it, but the lack of surprise from others – Gustus, the villagers, or anyone else – she supposed it was the consequence of some mutation. Her scientific mind was curious of what kind of change had brought about this dark color, and she wished she could put a drop of the strange blood under a microscope. But as far as she knew, this dark blood could now be quite common. Hell, perhaps the Commander had guessed that she was from the sky because she had remembered seeing Clarke's red blood when she was stabbed.
She thought of her friends and the other delinquents. Had the general, Anya, attacked already? Were her friends dead, or terrified as they were dragged to Polis, while she enjoyed the protection and comfort provided by the Commander?
Suddenly, the furs were not as comfortable.
Quietly, as she had no wish to awaken the other woman, she eased herself out of the furs that served as both mattress and blanket until she lying on the ground. She silently reached for her bag and took out her cloak and any hard item – her bowl, comb, knives and old wristband – so that it only contained the furs of the animals she had hunted or traded. She punched it a couple of times to shape it in a pillow and wrapped herself in the cloak.
She could not refuse the tent, as it would be unpractical for the escort – she didn't really need protection, but she had a feeling the Commander would insist on her being guarded as well. She was officially a guest, but she was unsure of whether the warrior would really let her walk away if she decided to leave.
She could, and would, however refuse further comforts from the Commander who might be the cause of the death of her friend, mother and everyone else on the Ark. No matter how kind Lexa could be.
It was perhaps stupid, but it appeased her mind enough for her to fall asleep.