A/N: Enjoy!
Chapter 13: Life is a game (of chess)
Clarke returned to her rooms and was delighted to see a package containing a square, flat piece of wood, along with three dozens of small rough cylinders and a carving knife. She decided to enjoy some time alone before checking on Raven's progress and finding Murphy. And it would allow her to try and carve some models for pawns, horses and castles if the boy accepted to help her.
An hour later, she really hoped Murphy would agree. Carving was definitely not like drawing, and she much preferred drawing. She had nicked her fingers several times – of course she had healed instantly, but the frequent sharp pain was no less bothersome. She threw aside the pieces and the knife and started darkening small squares on the flat piece of wood to fashion a chess board.
Once that was done, she put everything back in the package, and went in search of Murphy. A quick inquiry to one of her guards and she was guided to a room close to Raven's – she should have guessed as much, really, but she felt like her mind was boiling with all that was happening lately.
She knocked on his open door and waited until he waved at her to enter.
''Long time no see, Princess. Raven told me I couldn't go exploring the city because a kid died?'' He said, his drawl less marked than usual.
Perhaps he was remembering Charlotte as well. She knew he had not really wanted the girl dead. She had mostly been a mean to get back to Bellamy. He had looked as horrified as she felt when she jumped off the cliff.
''Yes.'' She replied. ''And turns out none of those kids – or any grounder, actually – has ever played chess or other board games. Since we are stuck in here for now, I wondered if you would help me carve some pieces? I hope teaching them the game will take their minds of… well, everything.''
Murphy smirked. ''So, now you are encouraging me to play with a knife? You weren't exactly fond of that, at first.''
She rolled her eyes. ''You will be chopping wood, not heads!'' She reminded.
He shrugged. ''Sounds good. I have nothing else to do anyway. Yesterday I went exploring the city – Polis, right? – and I wanted to try and climb on the walls around it today, but…''
He paused. ''You say there are no board games? At all?''
''I have seen some guards play something like the jacks and cards, but that's it. Most people can't read, so any complex game has been lost I assume. No one to figure out the rules, even if the board actually survived the bombs.'' She offered. ''Why do you ask?''
''I played a lot of games with my dad, before chief asshole threw him out. And I have no idea how long I will be stuck here, or what I will do.''
Clarke sat on a chair. ''The Commander would accept you taking an apprenticeship with a craftsman, or a hunter. We can't be freeloaders forever, but no grounder will harm you again unless you harm them first.'' She reassured.
Murphy grabbed the package in her hands and rummaged through it. ''Well, I spent the last couple of years convinced I would die as soon as I turned eighteen, so I never really thought of what kind of job I would like to do. And those things are pretty different down here anyway.''
He paused, staring at her carved model of a knight. ''Say what, Princess? I offer you a deal. I carve your chess things, and you find a way to provide me with more paper, wood, cardboard or the likes. And paint.''
Clarke was confused. ''What are you gonna do with all that?''
He grinned. ''Boardgames. Cards. Time to teach the gloomy grounders how to have fun, old world style. And if you use your 'Healing Nymph' aura to give me some publicity, I'll let you have a percentage of the benefits.''
''I thought I was already providing all the materials?'' She pointed out, amused. ''But okay. One condition: I have one copy of each game free of charge. I will teach them to the children of the Tower – the Commander's novitiates. I am sure she will agree to your business adventure if she likes the games. So I would focus on military and management games at first.'' She advised with a wink.
She rose and left the room, only popping her head back in briefly to say. ''Oh, and I want these pieces by the end of the week!''
She let a small smile play on her face as she walked the short way to Raven's. Finally, she had one less thing to think about – Murphy was staying in line for the time being.
Raven was busy connecting wires and securing screws when she walked in. An old, rusty and crooked bike was stucked in the nearby corner.
Clarke looked at it dubiously. ''Does that thing even work anymore?''
The mechanic shrugged, unconcerned. ''I just need the pedals and chain set. I am not planning on touring the city with it, remember?''
The blonde shuffled from one foot to the other, feeling her impatience build up. ''So? When can we talk to the Ark?''
She earned a long suffering look. ''I know you were more of a bio and chemistry nerd, but you still understand basic physic and astronomy, right? We will have a powered, patched up and working radio tomorrow night at the latest. But contacting the Ark… Well it depends more on where they are than on what we do. I don't have anything to boost the signal. If the Ark is hovering over Europe, I can't reach them.'' She scolded.
She felt her shoulders drop and she slumped against the wall. ''I know. It's just…'' She waved helplessly.
''You want to know if your mother is okay.'' Raven guessed.
Her mother. It had actually been a while since she actually thought about her. What would she think of Clarke's actions? Revealing her secret, fraternizing with the Commander of the grounders and teaching her novitiates, while her own people where trapped inside the Ark or the Mountain.
She stared at the radio to buy herself some more time as she thought about her response. Part of her was convinced that her mother was dead. That she had planned to use the recording of her father for a while, and that it was the reason she came when Clarke was put in the dropship – the last words and actions of a mother who tried to save her child before sacrificing herself.
Of course, she hoped her mother was still alive, and would be able to come to the ground. But the part of her that was already mourning refused to acknowledge that hope. It was hard enough to think of herself as an orphan, she did not want to add disappointed hope on the list of her current turmoils.
''In part, yeah.'' She finally answered. ''Mostly, I think I just want all this to be over as soon as possible.'' She confessed.
Raven smiled. ''Don't worry your cute head, Griffin. It might take time, but they still have a good few weeks of oxygen up there. I am impatient to see Sinclair and the rest of my team again, but they'll get there eventually. And then we can all return to the Ark – or, well, the Exodus ships and whatever camp they set up.''
The Latina patted her shoulder comfortingly. ''The priority is the rest of the hundred inside Mount Weather.'' She reminded her. ''How are things advancing for that?''
Clarke gaped. With all that had happened, she hadn't even thought about coming up with a plan since Lexa forbade her to rush to the Mountain the other night.
''Er…'' She started eloquently.
Raven stared at her, her gaze turning accusing.
Clarke cleared her throat. ''It's… There has been so many things going on… And I have to take care of those kids, and protect Lexa – the Commander.'' She tried weakly.
Raven slammed her hand on the table. ''Look, I know a kid died and that's tragic. But our friends are possibly being used as guinea pigs right now. This is not the moment to play family with the Commander! Hell, did you hear her at breakfast? She wants us to advise her on torture? I said I would pay back for everything destroyed in that village, but as soon as that's done, I'm out! I'm going back to our people!''
Clarke bristled at the accusations directed at Lexa's character. ''Do you think she enjoyed that? If she doesn't find who ordered the attack, more kids could die!'' She argued, voice rising.
Raven scroffed and pointed an accusing finger at her. ''They are not your people! And they have dozens of warriors protecting them! Our friends need you! Finn spent days looking for you! He died looking for you and Octavia!''
The brunette started crying, and Clarke cautiously approached to wrap her in a hug. Raven fought her at first, but soon laid her head against her shoulder as she sobbed.
''If you had been here… You could have saved him. He just wanted to help. He shouldn't have died.'' She continued more quietly in between her sobs.
Clarke tightened her hold, thinking back on Atom, Jasper and Wells, who had died because she did not or could not use her gift to save them. She felt tears well up in her own eyes and, this time, she let them fall.
''I am sorry. I am so, so sorry.'' She cried softly in the mechanic's hair.
She wasn't only talking to Raven.
Eventually, the brunette broke from her arms and brushed her cheeks with her sleeve. She was not as accusing as before, but Clarke could see in her eyes that her anger had not completely abated, though most of it had morphed into disappointment. She wasn't sure if that was better or worse.
''I am loyal to the Ark and the rest of the delinquents. I just thought you were too.''
Clarke shook her head in protest. ''I am.'' She insisted. ''I am. But I can't just ignore kids in danger.'' She defended.
Raven rose her eyebrows. ''Like our friends?''
Clarke threw her arms up. ''What do you want me to do? It's a bunker! They have Reapers and acid fog guarding it! And I don't even know if they want me to help them! They didn't exactly rise to my defense when Bellamy was growing more aggressive.'' She pointed out.
Raven deflated. ''Okay, maybe that was a bit unfair. But I can tell you most of the delinquents missed you. Finn always had volunteers when he announced he was going to go search for you again, even though Bellamy repeated that you were dead. And they all told me about how you got things organized and ensured everyone had food and shelter. Monty missed you a lot, said you were the only friend he had left.''
Clarke looked away, feeling guilty. She had not really thought of how the others would manage without her when she decided not to return. She was more focused on not crossing paths with Bellamy again. And, honestly, she had been relieved to be free of the other delinquents for a while – no one to argue when she was just trying to help, to call her Princess when she asked someone to go forage for food. Hell, she had been the only one who had not had the rushed additional classes in Earth skills, not them. Why was it her fault they did not manage as well without her?
With a sigh, and still focused on the wall behind the mechanic, Clarke replied.
''Lex… The Commander wants to make the Mountain fall. If we can find away to disable the fog and open the gates, I am sure she will provide the army. I talked to her about it, once. But it's going to take time to gather so many warriors, and she won't call them unless we have a good plan. What are the chances of our friends still being there by then?'' She finished, defeated.
Raven sat back on her bench. ''You think they are lost.''
''I don't know what I think. Why did they take them in the first place? It's quite obvious we are not from the ground. Will they be treated differently from the captured grounders? Or will they be tested on, turned into Reapers? I wish I knew more. I wish I had some idea of how much time I have.''
Raven tinkered with the radio, twisting one button and pressing another. ''Okay, Griffin. Let's do this: you ask the big bad Commander what she knows about the Mountain – everything, from motives to defenses and weapons – and I'll try to come up with ways to counter those.''
Clarke rolled her eyes. ''Deal. And don't call her that.''
Raven stared at her, unblinking. ''Still gonna say that you don't like her like that?''
''Weren't you the one just accusing me of disloyalty?'' The blonde asked, bewildered at the sudden turn in conversation.
The mechanic shrugged. ''Didn't really know you before, from the Ark. You look more and more like a grounder to me – like Octavia. So as long as you help get our friends out, I won't judge.''
She paused to find her gaze before she continued. ''You are not returning to the Ark when it comes down, are you? You seem pretty settled here, and it has only been a few days.'' She observed.
Clarke hesitated. At first, returning to the Ark had seemed like the logical things to do. They were her people.
But since Lexa had offered for her to stay, she had been thinking. What reasons did she, personally, have to return to the Ark? Her mother was probably dead, and would probably be more than welcome in Polis if she was somehow still alive. And if she took her mother out of the equation, what did she have in the Ark?
Thelonious had killed her father and imprisoned her in complete seclusion for nearly a year, with little concern for her mental health. Her very few friends were dead or captured. She had been estranged from most people her age because of her privileged status, and spent almost all her free time in medical helping her mother. She knew a lot of faces, but that was all they were to her in the end. Faces. Nameless, for the most part.
In Polis, though… She had found an unexpected friend in Lexa. And perhaps also in Murphy, if he truly started his game commerce and stayed. She already loved the Nightbloods. She had not really interacted with a lot of children on the Ark, since births were usually grouped over a couple of years every six to eight years or so, to facilitate the organization of rations and classes.
Moreover, she did not have to hide her abilities – granted she could do without the worship and assassination attempts, but she no longer had to watch people die when she could save them, or look over her shoulder when she decided to help.
''I don't know what I will do.'' She eventually answered.
Because she knew what she wanted to do, but she felt guilty about it. She never thought she would ever feel like she didn't belong with the Arkers, because she had never known there were others people alive. She had never had reason to choose sides before. And now duty pulled her in one direction while her heart yearned to join the other side.
She decided now would be a good time to visit the city. The Tower had been on lock down all night and the list of people allowed in and out was short, but Lexa had told her that she was on it, in case she wished to join the healers as she had done almost daily. The only condition was that she would be escorted, and must not talk to anyone about what had happened.
Today, however, she felt restless and doubted she could stomach attending to a dozen of sick or wouded people. Murphy had talked of exploring the city, and she realized, with some surprise, that she had yet to do that herself. She explained her desire to one of her guards, knowing it was better if Lexa knew where she had gone, in case her abilities were needed.
Soon, she was walking around Polis, taking turns at random, fascinated.
From afar, she had been stunned by the way the grounders had used the old buildings, despite the way both bombs and time had ruined most of those. She had liked the bright patches of colour of linen drying or of big clothes replacing windows or doors. It contrasted with the almost constant grey she had known in the Ark. She found that the effect was no less impressive from the streets, but this was not what truly fascinated her.
Life inside the Tower was overly serious, and she had seen few objects that did not have a practical purpose in the several rooms. Strangely – and stupidly – she had thought that what she saw in the Tower was representative of what grounder life looked like.
The people from Polis were nothing like the often emotionless warriors she had met. She saw men bargaining goods with many expressive gestures, women chatting in groups and parents laughing at their children's antics. The jacks and cards proved more common than she had first thought, but was truly surprised her was when she paused to observe two children playing.
She could not recognize the game.
Card and board games were well known in the Ark, because it was one of the few ways to keep occupied without using any additional ressources, like electricity or even oxygen. Physical exercise had basically been forbidden, and movies or reading was limited to a few hours a day. Therefore, any teenager knew all the games from the old world one could play with a stack of cards. Yet, the one those kids were playing at was unknown to her.
It was new.
Shaken by this discovery, she payed closer attention to what people were doing. She saw teenagers playing a music she had never heard before with makeshift instruments that only vaguely ressembled the images she had seen in digital books on art. She saw children playing on colored stiles. She heard a man tell what sounded like a tale – she really should work on her Trigedasleng – to toddlers. She could recognize some basic elements as similar to some tales of the old world, but all the details were different.
She could see a culture.
But more disconcerting was the fact that she could not recall such a culture in the Ark. Yes, they enjoyed music, played games and the likes. But all those came from the old world. A hundred years in space, with access to the best technology humanity had ever managed to build, and yet they had created nothing. Even her ideals and the future world she had imagined had been nothing but an improved copy of the old world.
The only thing she could think of had been the almost religious way Kane's mother treated the small tree they had. But even that was more a symbol of the Earth they would return to than an actual new religion.
Arkers had survived, and she had thought that this was what grounders had done too. But she had been wrong. They had not just survived, they had thrived. Arkers had delighted in their safety and the promise of returning to Earth, and it was as if progress and creativity had stopped while they floated in space. They lived in a constant nostalgia of what had been destroyed by the bombs, and their only purpose was to survive so that their descendants might one day rebuild everything. Rebuild. Nostalgia again.
The grounders had suffered the bombs directly, along with all its consequence. The world had been destroyed before their eyes, and the survivors had fought over what was left. Yet, it had not stopped them from living. And instead of copying a world that had destroyed itself, they had started to build a new world that suited them and their needs.
It was an humbling realization, and she walked back to the Tower still uncertain of what she should do. She liked what Lexa was trying to build, but she was slowly accepting that the world she had dreamed of on Earth would not appear overnight. Could she really learn and accept a whole new culture, that was often so different from the Ark, for possibly the rest of her life?
The rest of the week was divided between attempts to contact the Ark – they paused those when Clarke realized she couldn't locate the Ark at night, meaning it would be a couple of days before it hovered over the East Coast again – and her duties to Lexa.
She asked the Commander for everything she knew about the Mountain, but it was unfortunately very little. Raven and her worked on the acid fog problem, but without knowing what exactly it was made of, they soon reached an impasse. Instead, the mechanic showed Clarke how to operate the radio so she could continue the attempts once the Ark was in range again. Meanwhile, she would go back to the dropship to salvage the solar panels.
And she would also collect the hydrazine. This last part had been a point of contentious with Lexa for two days. The Commander was understandably uneasy with the idea of a dangerous and unstable substance in her home. She only relented when Clarke explained that it could be turned into weapons against the Mountain – Raven and her had figured that they could try to just blow up door, if they ever managed to get pass the fog – and that it could be stored somewhere else until they needed it. Lexa had had an old concrete building outside of town cleared up of everything it contained, and warned that it would be heavily guarded.
The ones who had attacked the nightbloods eventually cracked and spilled out that the attempt had been ordered by the Queen of Azgeda. Unfortunately, they had no idea why the queen was targeting the novitiates, or what else she might have planned. They did, however, reveal the name of an agent in the kitchens of the Tower – who was promptly stuffed in the white room after watching the beheading of her fellow prisoners.
Clarke knew that the Commander was frustrated by her lack of possibilities to retaliate. If she decided to attack Azgeda – as was her right – it would break the Coalition. So for now she had kept the information quiet. However, not retaliating if the information became public would be seen as weakness, and a betrayal of jus drein jus daun.
She wondered if there was any sort of spying network in this society. The one working in the kitchen had only been here for a few months, and Lexa had confided to Clarke that she had been watching her since poison had been found in the Natblidas' meal a few weeks ago, and had only let her free for so long because she had no proof.
All in all, compared to what she had learned in history, or read in fantasy and sci-fi books, the poisoning attempt had been very poorly executed.
It made sense, in a way. With only a partial and orally transmitted inheritance from the old world, skills like stealth, infiltration and the recovering of information had most likely lost a good portion of its finesse. It would not have been as vital as finding food and shelter and fighting in the first decades that followed the apocalypse. And with honor and vows being seen as almost sacred – she was still unsure of how exactly their religion or beliefs worked – it might even be seen as blasphemous.
But now that Lexa had managed to reintroduce politics, negotiations and international relations, information was becoming more valuable. Just a few years ago, the assassination would have been answered with a war. Now, Clarke could see the other woman torn between her desire for revenge and security, and her unwillingness to sacrifice the Coalition. She was almost visibly fuming at the impossibility to achieve both.
She decided to broach the subject during one lunch. They were alone, the children were slowly recovering from the trauma of the past week and Lexa had just huffed in frustration for the third time in the duration of the meal.
''Do you know what a spy is?'' She asked. She had no idea if there was even a word for it in Trigedasleng.
The Commander furrowed her brow. ''No. I have never heard this word before.''
Clarke nodded. Hopefully, that meant she would not seem like a fool trying to share uncomplete knowledge of something the other woman had learned over ten years ago. ''It is a person that stays hidden to observe and gather information.''
Lexa seemed confused. ''That is the definition of a scout. Why introduce me to a word that means the same thing?''
The blonde pinched the bridge of her nose. Explaining the concept might be more complicated than she expected. Until meeting Lexa, she had never realized how complicated it could be to give precise definitions of concepts she had always thought she knew well. From what she had seen so far, honor and loyalty were extremely important in their culture – that three warriors had conspired to kill one of Heda's novitiates had been almost incomprehensible to them.
A spy was often toeing those lines between loyalty and betrayal.
''No, a spy is different from a scout.'' She replied. ''A scout works on battlefields, or frontiers, right?'' She asked for confirmation, knowing the simplification of language that had been used to go from English to Trigedasleng had likely fused together some definitions. Perhaps spies were just another kind of scout to Lexa's people.
The brunette nodded, and leaned towards her. Clarke fought back a smile. The other woman was often like this, almost childish with eagerness, when Clarke introduced her to new – or, really, old – concepts that she sensed could be useful.
''A spy… A spy will gather information from within an enemy's stronghold. He or she will pose as a servant or a warrior of the enemy and listen to whatever is said by the enemy or those close to him. He will report all the information and rumors back to his true leader.''
''You mean someone that betrays his former leader, and joins a new one offering information as a token of good faith?'' Lexa tried, though Clarke could see that the brunette knew she was missing something.
She shook her head. ''There is no betrayal. It is… deceit? The spy is working for his leader, but pretends to work for another in order to gain knowledge. He is loyal. He just hides who he is loyal to. And sometimes, he has to do things to make the other leader truly believe that he is loyal to him. But the ultimate purpose is always to provide information to his real leader.''
Lexa fidgeted uncomfortably on her seat. ''You think those traitors were spys?'' She asked.
Clarke sighed. That was not exactly her point, but it needed to be discussed as well. ''In the worst case, yes, they were. But I think they would have told you if they were – they seem to have been threatened in the attempt, with their families held hostages. It doesn't mean Nia did not get some information out of them, though.'' She cautioned.
The Commander nodded and tapped her fingers against the wood of the table. Clarke let her work through everything she had said. She was incredibly smart, and had always picked up on the concepts Clarke presented her with incredibly quickly.
This time was no exception. She saw the eyes widen in realization and then narrow in consideration.
In a slow, deliberate voice, she spoke up. ''You think I should send spies in Azgeda.''
Clarke shook her head nervously. ''Azgeda would be a good start. But my real advice would be to send spies to all the clans.'' She saw Lexa's fist clench and hurriedly continued. ''If your Coalition holds, you will not be fighting your future wars on a battlefield, but inside your throne room. It takes time for messages to go back and forth from between any clan and Polis. I have only attended a few of your meetings with the ambassadors, but isn't that one of your main problems? You have to rely on what they tell you is true, and you don't always have the time to verify it before the agreement is signed.'' She pointed out.
Lexa relaxed her hands and turned more thoughtful.
''Imagine how easier and safer it would be if you already knew what they told you from another reliable source? Or if you knew for a fact they were lying?'' She insisted, driving her point home.
The brunette nodded and gestured for her to continue.
''In the old world, almost all the countries had a spying network. It takes time, and resources, to establish one. You need to be absolutely certain of the loyalty of those you choose, and you have to find a way for them to safely communicate with you, and your successors. And you will need to be smart on what you do with the information they bring you, because you can't blow their cover. Ideally, you have to work out a system where most of your spys don't know the others – that way, if one gets caught he can't give more names to your enemies.'' She explained.
Lexa seemed both enthralled and disappointed. ''It is dishonourable, but I cannot deny the many interests of all you describe. However, to properly build this… network, it would take years. I cannot let Nia do as she pleases for so long.''
''True. About that, I was wondering…''
She paused, unsure. Lexa pressed her lips together, and Clarke was convinced this expression meant she was containing an amused smile.
''Yes, Klark?''
She really shouldn't like hearing Lexa say her name so much.
''Well… The clans have ambassadors in Polis, but I have never heard anything about ambassadors of the Commander in the clans?'' She smiled widely.
Lexa's jaw dropped briefly before the young woman schooled her stunned expression and Clarke chuckled at the sight.
''It would certainly disturb Nia to have someone loyal to me so close to her…'' She said. ''But the life expectancy of that person would be severely reduced. And many clans might see this as a show of distrust, or my interfering in matters that do not directly concern the Coalition.''
The Commander rose and paced along the length of the table. Clarke resumed the eating she had interrupted to expose her idea to Lexa.
''I am already trying to find an apprentice for Titus, in case he won't find one himself. I can use these interviews to find a dozen ambassadors – the qualities needed would be quite similar. And it would be a good way to find out what the people of each clans think of my efforts and the Coalition.''
Clarke smirked. ''It is also the opportunity to find what kind of jobs are not overly controlled, and perhaps a few discontent servants or warriors who could be convinced to loosen their tongues. The information will be obtained much more… obviously than with proper spies, but if that move is as bold as you seem to think, it should throw Nia off.''
Lexa paused in her pacing. ''We will have to be careful. A frightened or cornered animal is likely to lash out.'' She warned, rubbing her temples. ''I confess I find it disturbing, how easily such traitorous and dishonourable ideas appear in your mind.''
She smiled, eyes sparkling. ''It has a lot of potential, though.''
''Well, overt opposition on the Ark was unlikely to earn you anything but a quick death. Our leaders were not as involved in their people's well-being as you are. And many stories of spies were famous – both real and fictional ones.'' The blonde replied.
Clarke grinned and put down her fork. ''Also… I know I'm supposed to work on the books in the afternoon, but Murphy brought me the full chess set just before lunch, so…'' She suggested.
Lexa turned towards the door. ''Then it is a good thing I am the one in charge of the natblidas' lessons this afternoon, and not Titus. He remains unconvinced that your teachings are useful.'' She remarked, exasperation coloring her tone.
Clarke rolled her eyes. The man had actually come to her library earlier in the week to advise her to 'limit the subjects of her lessons to realistic and useful ones'. He was unhappy since the Commander ordered him to find another apprentice, and she suspected he knew that she had been the one to suggest it.
Not that she had listened, of course. In fact, she had made a point of finding an old speech from a famous author of the twentieth century – J. K. Rowling – which talked about failure and imagination. Two subjects Titus clearly hated. It had been delightful to explain all the Harry Potter references, and to see the frown on the Flame keeper's face grow with the amount of details.
The children had loved the story, and since she had found the whole series a few days ago, she was now reading the first book as a bedtime story. Aden was slowly reading The Hobbit on his own, to improve his skills in both English and reading – and, she suspected, as a way to honour Strina's memory since the girl had loved the beginning of the story.
Soon, they were in the room they used for the nightbloods lessons, and Clarke set up the board. She pointed to each piece, demonstrating how it moved. Then she explained the more general rules.
Aden studied the board. ''So, the purpose is to take the other king?'' He asked.
''Without losing your own, yes.'' Clarke confirmed. ''How about Lexa tries against me so you can watch?''
She had noticed that the young woman was often uncomfortable in situations she did not fully control or understand, and could not pass an opportunity to tease her. Murphy was right about one thing at least – the people living in that Tower needed to laugh more.
And she knew the kids absolutely loved Lexa. They wouldn't care if she lost to Clarke. It was time the brunette realized it as well.
Said brunette looked extremely put out to be put on the spot like that, but the eager enthusiasm of the children could not be denied. Generously, Clarke allowed her to choose the color.
She chose white and opened the game.
Clarke grinned. She had played countless matches with Wells in the Ark, and had sometimes played against herself in solitary. She knew all the tricks. She moved her first pawn with a flourish and smiled cheekily at her opponent. Lexa's eyes narrowed and she studied the board for a while. But it was too soon to try and find out a strategy, especially as she was unfamiliar with the game. She sent out a knight.
Three moves later, Clarke announced in a very satisfied tone. ''Checkmate.''
Lexa stared at the board, bewildered, mouth open.
Clarke forced herself to hold back her laughter at first. Years of military and strategic training beaten in four moves in a game so simplistic was bound to be quite a shock.
She couldn't hold back forever, though.
Her chuckles triggered those of the children, who had never seen their Heda like that. The young woman blushed, but eventually joined them when she realized that there was no malice in the sound – just a gentle mocking.
Once everyone had mostly sobered up, she asked. ''How did you do that? Can it be countered?''
Clarke smiled. This was supposed to be a lesson, after all.
So, she pointed the weakness of the pawn that was only defended by the king, and then showed the different moves again, letting Lexa and the Nightbloods figure out ways to counteract each of them. She also explained that this move – the Scholar's move – was really only possible at the very beginning.
Then she proposed another match to Lexa. She countered her own attempt to duplicate the moves, and soon the real match began in earnest.
As Clarke had expected, the Commander improved quickly once she assimilated the moves and how the different pawns could work together. She still lost the second match, but Clarke had sacrificed many pieces to earn her victory, and she got the feeling that Lexa had been testing out strategies more than she had tried to win. Then they gave over the board to the Nightbloods and watched as they took turns in pairs while Lexa improvised a small lecture.
''The king can symbolize the people. They are not completely helpless, but lack the skills of properly trained warriors. If their usual abode is no longer safe, you must not hesitate to move them to a safer location, even if it makes you feel uncomfortable.'' She added after one of the children lost a match because he missed an opportunity to move his king away from a threat.
''The queen is the Commander.'' She affirmed next. ''It is powerful and can move around more easily than the others. But it can still be sacrificed.''
Clarke kicked her in the shin at that last sentence. She was tired of seeing half of those lessons turn into talks of death and sacrifice.
Lexa threw her an exasperated glare as she continued. ''However, it should be preserved whenever possible, for its abilities are unique and more likely to aid you than a pawn.'' She conceded.
Titus entered the room and bowed to his Heda.
''Heda. Indra is here with two prisoners. She said they claimed to be from the… dropship.'' He announced, stumbling on the unfamiliar word. ''They claim to have escaped from the Mountain.''