A/N: Been a while, but still working on the story. Enjoy!
Chapter 26: Travels in the snow
Clarke glared at her guide's back, frustrated by the easiness she displayed in moving through the snow whereas she felt like a half drowned and drunk duckling awkwardly following its mother.
They had left the queen's city two days ago, Gran guiding Clarke and Ponu down a subway tunnel that led to an old, destroyed and – most importantly – distant neighbourhood. There, she had entrusted them both to this young woman who would escort them all the way to Tondisi.
Clarke glanced at the young boy who walked behind her. She felt conflicted about his being forced to come with her. On the one hand, he would be safer in Polis since Nia suspected him of having helped Clarke escape her dungeon. On the other hand, she knew she was the reason all his hopes of becoming an Azgeda warrior had been destroyed and he now had to leave behind the only family and friends he had. She swore to herself that she would make sure he was taken care of. Perhaps Lexa could make him the apprentice of one of her warriors? Clarke was not sure how Seconds were chosen – and she had never seen Lexa's warriors with one, except Anya.
She focused back on her feet, raising her knees high because of the heavy snow.
At first, she had been fascinated by the white and cold material, and the peculiar way it played with the light. The air felt different, and she had wondered if she would one day grow so used to Earth that she would be able to predict the weather like Gran and Bruin had done.
They had predicted a snowstorm would soon arrive above the capitol, so they had sent Clarke and Ponu away a few hours before it hit. Their guide had apparently been nearby for a few days, waiting for the best moment to sneak away from the city.
They barely had time to reach an old bunker that first night, before the storm arrived. Their guide had explained that the snow would cover their trails, so no group of warriors would be sent after them. That way, they know only had to worry about patrols, and it was simply impossible for the queen to cover so much ground. The tricky part would be to cross the border with Trikru, Clarke guessed.
Other than a few sarcastic remarks, their guide had not been very talkative. Clarke did not even know her name, but since she figured that her usual activities were not exactly legal, she decided not to ask. She wondered if Ponu knew her name. The boy had acted somewhat wary of the woman.
Clarke hoped that Gran was right in trusting this guide with their lives. She was certain that, if the Queen caught her again, she would not bother with torture this time. She would most likely search for some way to kill her, and send her head to Lexa as she had done with Costia. She had no idea what the situation in Polis was right now, but from the few news she did have, the Coalition held so far. Rumors in Azgeda's streets were that the Queen had exhorted her old allies to demand Lexa's destitution on grounds of not allowing the clans to storm the Mountain and sparing some of their enemies, but her call was only being weakly answered.
Given the narrow trails they were following, Clarke supposed that this woman was used to sneaking in and out of several clans. Twice, they had encountered hunters and the woman had just waved to them. When one had seemed about to question her, his companion had shut him up and their guide had slipped him something – some bribe, most likely. This woman obviously had a few allies amongst Nia's warriors and hunters.
Clarke ran a hand through her dark hair. She had no idea where Gran had found some dye for her, but she was glad. There were more blond people in Azgeda than in Polis, but they were still not as numerous as the dark-haired ones. A blond young woman in the woods might have been too much for the warriors to turn a blind eye.
Still, Clarke wondered how the Queen had organized the search for her. She knew she had kept her capture mostly secret, because it would have been too unpopular and some warriors might refuse to obey her in fear of the Spirit's retaliation.
She stumbled and nearly fell head first in the snow. She somehow managed to land on her hands and knees and hurried back up, not wanting her guide to comment on her lack of stability again.
The artist in her found the snow beautiful, but right now she hated the damn frozen water. It made her clothes heavy and wet, it was cold, and the storm had laid a thick layer that required her to raise her feet much higher than usual to walk at a depressingly slow pace. It was both exhausting and disheartening. Worse, it demanded so much focus that she could not even fully appreciate being outside after hiding for days inside what she had guessed was an old subway network.
From the position of the sun, she knew they were heading mostly southwest, but she had no idea how long they would need to reach Tondisi. She had been unconscious on the way to Azgeda, and the warriors had traveled on horseback while she and her companions were on foot.
She wished she could claim that Ponu, as the youngest and smallest of their party, was likely to be the one limiting their speed. But so far, she had been the one who had forced the others to stop when she stupidly fell in a small pit that had been covered by the snow. At least, her guide now groaned and pointed at suspicious spots in warning.
Gran and their guide had prepared packs that held enough food for four to five days, from the quick inventory Clarke had made during a short break for the midday meal. However, she had no doubt that their guide was well capable of hunting or foraging for more food, so Clarke was unsure of whether this was the amount they expected the group to need, or merely what they had been able to spare.
She had not been blind to the thinness of the few kids that lived inside the Houm. It was quite obvious that they were often toying the line of undernourishment, something that Clarke had never witnessed among grounders before. Of course, she had seen that parts of Polis were poorer than others, but not to the point of starving. Or had she been so awed by this new civilization that she had missed it?
Either way, she now knew that the situation in Azgeda was unstable. Only warriors and their direct family seemed able to provide ample food, which probably explained why there were so many aspirant warriors. She had initially thought, mostly because of the title Commander, that the Coalition was some form of military regime, but she had been at Lexa's side long enough to know it was not. War had certainly been common, and the title Commander made sense in that it was seen as a protector. But the artisans and traders were the main occupations, and full-time warriors were actually few in number. Since every grounder was trained in weapons and combat, it was easy enough to gather an impressive army if need be.
It was not the case in the Ice nation.
Clarke would estimate that nearly one in four people was a warrior in Azgeda. Moreover, she had learned that the children went through some trials around the age of seven to see if they showed promise in fighting, and only those selected to become aspirant warriors received an actual education in weaponry. Since most warriors' children were better fed – and she guessed taught some fighting techniques by their parents before the trials – it was not surprising that the position was basically hereditary, as it had been on the Ark.
All in all, a quarter of the population had enjoyed the privilege of ample food and the right to act as both judge and executor of anyone socially below them. Only conflict between warriors were brought to the queen's attention.
But when Lexa had cornered the Ice nation into joining the Coalition, she had unknowingly destroyed the previous equilibrium. Well, from what Gran had said, it had been shaken before, when many of the neighbouring clans joined the Coalition, enabling them to lighten the guard on their other borders and better prevent the raids from Azgeda.
Without those raids, hunting and foraging were not always enough to provide for the whole population since farming weather was short in the north. With idle warriors that felt their lifestyle was threatened and three quarters of her population growing hungry and angry, Nia had had two choices: join the Coalition or destroy it.
Clarke guessed that was when she had captured and killed Costia. Since her army was too small to take on several clans at once, she had sought to destroy the leader of the Coalition. But despite her heartbreak, Lexa had refused to fall into the trap set by the Ice Queen and instead had again extended her hand to welcome Azgeda. Nia had had no choice but to accept.
Unfortunately, since it was not in Heda's prerogative to intervene in matters within each clan, the situation was far from resolved. Yes, trade had stifled the risk of famine, but neither Nia nor her warriors were willing to relent on their privileges. And despite being untrained and unarmed, Clarke sensed that the common people were simmering with revolt. Because it was now their goods that earned part of the food, but the warriors were still the ones escorting the goods and obtaining the biggest share.
A few, like Bruin, felt the system's unfairness. Most, however, had been raised within it and feared what would happen to them if the balance was reversed, leading to harsher punishment of poachers.
Sooner or later, something would have to give. Clarke had a feeling it would be sooner.
Revolutions and civil wars had been studied in history on the Ark, and what the healer had mostly retained from those lessons was that they rarely ended well. For either side.
And if it came to this, would the ambassadors allow Heda to intervene? And if they did, who would they give their support to? Clarke knew Lexa would choose the people, but the other ambassadors were also part of a privileged cast. And Clarke knew first hand, from Jaha's decisions in the Ark, how far some could go to preserve control and privilege.
Add to that Nia's obvious plan to overthrow Lexa and have her brainwashed natblida become Commander, and Clarke felt a headache coming.
Ontari. Clarke swallowed back the bitterness that rose in the back of her mouth and forced down the image of a slit throat oozing black blood. She hoped Lexa, Aden and the other children were alright. She doubted she would ever forgive herself otherwise.
Shaking her head, she forced the dark thoughts back and focused on her walking again.
Her guide made a sign to stop and pointed them to a few fallen trees on the side of the path. Clarke followed with a furrowed brow. Their last break had not been so long ago, so she wondered why they needed to stop now.
Regardless, she was happy to sit down and take out her canteen to drink before refilling it with fresh snow. At least, water was not a worry on this trip.
Their guide did not sit but rummaged around the stumps until she dug out some cache hidden in the snow and covered by a big skin. Then she walked back to them and handed her and Ponu a couple of weird wooden and skin contraptions. Clarke stared at them, trying to figure out what the hell she was supposed to do with them, when she heard Ponu's joyous cry.
"Snowshoes!"
She turned her head and saw the young boy fiddle with the straps until he managed to tie both contraptions to his feet before rising and taking a few experimental steps.
He did not sink in the snow as they had so far.
With bulging eyes, Clarke glanced from the boy, to the contraptions in her own hands, to the guide who was calmly strapping on her own snowshoes.
"A friend hid those for us. I had not expected so much snow when I first headed to Onto. We will be able to travel faster now." She explained shortly.
Quickly, Clarke put the snowshoes in front of her and figured out how to tie it to her feet and ankle. It was made of a curved stick of wood with some armature for the wearer's foot and finally a stretched skin between the wood and the snow.
She rose and tried a few steps, almost stumbling when her left shoe collided with the right one. She widened her stance, trying to figure out how to walk with larger feet than usual.
Thankfully, her guide seemed to have noticed her struggle.
"Do not spread your legs so much. You can walk normally, just raise your feet a little higher so the shoe goes over the side of the other one." She explained as she demonstrated to Clarke.
Clarke nodded her thanks and they resumed their journey.
Once she got the hang of it, Clarke was very glad for the snowshoes. Their pace was much faster, and far less exhausting without having to battle the snow. Still, she hoped there would be less snow farther south. It was beautiful to look at, but too much of a bother to travel through.
They stopped just as the sun was setting, their guide leading them to a small but deep cave that protected them from the wind. Clarke hoped there would not be another blizzard, as that would prevent them from traveling until it passed.
Quickly, they gathered some small wood and piled it up while their guide dug out some dry logs from yet another cache. Clearly, this was a well-oiled organization of smugglers. Then, taking out some flint from her bag, she removed her gloves to start the fire.
Clarke's eyes widened slightly when she noticed the malformed hand that had been hidden until now, but then shrugged it off. She had seen worse in some parts of Polis, and it was really not so surprising considering the high level of radiation since Praimfaya. She knew from working with the healers that there were many miscarriages and early infancy deaths as well.
Ponu, however, stared at the hand far longer than what Clarke would consider polite. She was surprised by his gaze that looked downright hostile.
"You are a tainted one!" He accused their guide.
Clarke grimaced. The healers had also mentioned the general superstition that those with malformations were tainted. Many clans rejected such people, but Polis had always welcomed them. However, in an extremely war-oriented clan, she supposed the prejudice might be even worse.
She hoped Ponu would not antagonize their guide further.
"She is helping us." She reminded him, before adding sternly. "And she is not tainted. She just has hands that are different from yours, like I do."
The other woman glanced at her, looking surprised, before returning her attention to starting the fire.
The boy spluttered. "But… but it's different! You are blessed by the Spirit! She is cursed!"
Clarke sighed. She had given up convincing others that her abilities did not come from some legendary, mystic entity.
"She is not cursed." She insisted, forcing her voice to sound patient. "My hands can heal better than most, and I'm pretty sure she can slap better than anyone. We have different abilities, but that does not mean that one is better than the other."
The boy gaped at her, and Clarke was pretty sure that the old world would have compared his current expression to a goldfish. Still, her arguments had at least seemed sufficient to make him swallow any further insults. Wordlessly, she started to dig out some rations and nodded meaningfully at his bag until he did the same.
She supposed that she should not blame the child for opinions that he had probably heard since before he could talk, but she could not help the feeling of disappointment in her chest. Being mostly with Lexa's novitiates who were taught to be much more open-minded, she had somehow expected the same of Ponu, which was unfair.
Still, it was sad to hear a six-year-old boy speak with so much hate in his tone.
They all ate in an awkward silence, and then Ponu immediately spread his fur bag and promptly fell asleep. Clarke smiled softly at this picture of innocence. Their trek had obviously worn him out.
In fact, she was feeling quite exhausted herself and knew she would be cramping without her gift. But she felt that she should talk with their guide before going to sleep.
"I apologize for him. He doesn't know any better, but hopefully there's still time to make him understand." She said softly, barely above a whisper in order not to wake the sleeping boy.
The other woman furrowed her brow. "Did you really mean what you said to him? That we are both blessed?"
Well, that was not exactly what she had said. Personally, she wished no one saw her as blessed, but she guessed that the other woman was even more tired of being seen as cursed.
So, she asked with a smirk. "Are you telling me that your slaps aren't legendary?"
The guide threw her head back in a laugh, but cut it short and quickly glanced at Ponu who was still dead to the world.
She shook her head with a smile and offered Clarke her arm in grounder fashion. "My name is Emori, Healing Nymph."
The healer grasped her arm. "Call me Clarke."
She wasn't fully sure of how and why, but she felt that she had just earned Emori's respect. With a nod towards the cache where the guide had found the logs, she added. "You seem to have many friends."
The other woman shrugged. "There are few options for people like me. We are welcome in Polis, but almost no one is willing to take us as apprentices. I spent part of my childhood in Polis, where the Commander's warriors teach us the basics of fighting like the other children receive in the clans. Then, since no master accepted me and I had no wish to scrape by in the streets, I left and traveled the clans. It did not take long for older…"
There she paused and waved at her malformed hand. Clarke nodded her understanding.
"Well, they approached me and explained that they had a way of providing for themselves and could always welcome hands like mine. I joined." She said simply.
"And what do you do when you are not smuggling an escaped prisoner across the Azgeda frontier?" Clarke asked teasingly.
Emori smiled ferally. "Things I doubt Heda would approve of."
Clarke shrugged. "Well, I know she does not approve of people like you being mistreated either, so maybe she could find some better job for you."
Internally, Clarke was considering how this smuggling organization might help Lexa and her build the spying network. They owed no allegiance to any clan, and may even be inclined to serve the Commander since she was one of the few not discriminating them. However, she suspected Lexa would be less enthusiast about the idea of using smugglers whose loyalty might be shifty. Still, some of them could at least become valuable contacts.
She saw the surprise and wonder on Emori's face, but knew that this would be ultimately Lexa's decision, so she changed the subject.
"How long until we reach Tondisi?" She asked.
From there, she knew it was only two short days of traveling to Polis. Moreover, she was certain there would be guards waiting to escort her safely without sneaking around. Even if Lexa did not receive her letter, she was confident Indra would not let the Healing Nymph travel without guards. She would not feel safe until she was back in Polis and had seen Lexa and the children safe and sound.
"If the weather stays clear and we maintain a fast pace, four days. Five at most as long as we encounter no problems." The guide replied. "We are not taking the fastest route, but it has been long enough since your escape for the Queen to send more warriors to the border. They are less likely to search for you along the western part of it, since Polis is in the east."
Clarke nodded her understanding, and then indicated that she was going to sleep. A week, and she would be safe again.
Fortunately, the weather held despite the threatening clouds that sometime gathered above them. They encountered very few warriors, and those they did were clearly hunting and did not bother them. Though, if it was because of her darkened hair, the unlikelihood of an escaped prisoner traveling with a small child, or the lack of orders to watch out for her in this part of the Ice Nation, Clarke had no idea.
Emori slowed slightly and indicated that they were now close to the border with Trikru. Clarke tensed, knowing this was the most dangerous part of the trip.
Though their pace had prevented them from talking most of the time, she had made a point of speaking with their guide every night, both from genuine curiosity and also in hope of diminishing Ponu's animosity through example. She could see the conflict and wonder in the child's posture, his education visibly warring with her declarations.
They paused more frequently, Emori often scouting ahead then guiding them along barely visible paths. The pattern lasted three nerve-wrecking hours until Emori turned to her with a smile.
"We have been in Trikru territory for about half a candle-mark, now. It is unlikely Azgeda warriors will dare to stray so far from the border."
Clarke let out a small sigh of relief. "Do you think we can reach Tondisi today?" She asked.
Now that she was back in safer territory, she could feel her impatience growing and wanted to get back home as quickly as possible.
Emori nodded slowly. "We can, if you can walk fast. And we will likely arrive very shortly before dark."
Clarke turned to Ponu. "Think you can do it, kiddo?"
The boy nodded determinedly, and they resumed their trek.
The night was falling and Clarke was resigning herself to not reaching the Trikru village that day, when a scout fell in front of them from a tree.
"What is your business in Tondisi?" He asked, not overly threatening though his hand was clasped on the hilt of a dagger. Clarke had no doubt that there were other scouts in the trees with bows.
She and Emori rose their hands placatingly while Ponu grabbed her shirt. Stepping closer, Clarke startled when she recognized the scout.
"Lincoln?" She asked, unsure.
Last she had heard, the runaway scout was guiding Indra's group through the Reapers tunnels, and his fate was uncertain. She certainly had not expected him to be reinstated at his former post.
The scout frowned, looking her over until recognition lit in his eyes. "You are Octavia's friend. The one who was with Heda."
Clarke nodded, unsure of whether Lincoln knew her title and was careful not to utter it, or if he was genuinely unaware of her capture and confused by why she would dye her hair.
"I need to speak with Indra. Emori and Ponu are my companions, they can be trusted." She stated.
She knew Lexa had put out a story that she was currently organizing things in Mount Weather, but she did not know who was aware of the truth. Indra, however, most likely knew and would be able to give her more information. She might not know the Trikru village leader much, but she knew Lexa trusted her a lot which was good enough for her.
Lincoln nodded, and motioned for them to follow him. "Tondisi is less than a candle-mark away on foot. The night will be upon us by the time we reach it, but I know these woods well." He assured.
Clarke felt weary from all the walking and the tension of crossing the border – however uneventful it had been, much to her relief – but the idea of perhaps having news from Lexa made her follow suit with a new spring in her step after grabbing Ponu's hand in reassurance. The boy had barely looked from behind her since the scout's surprising appearance.
By the time they reached Tondisi, the night had almost completely fallen and Clarke was glad for the bonfires that lit the center of the destroyed village or she would have likely stumbled on some rubble. Clarke could see that some areas had already been cleared out for reconstruction and many tents – to house the labourers and warriors Clarke guessed.
Lincoln led them to a tent that the healer recognized from the preparations just before attacking Mount Weather. Apparently, Indra's house had not been spared by the missile so she had moved her war tent to the village. He briefly talked to the guard standing outside, who nodded and let them in.
Indra looked up from what seemed to be a model of the reconstructed village. She rose an eyebrow at Lincoln.
"My apologies, Chief, but I found those people outside of Tondisi. Clarke insisted that she needed to talk to you." He explained as he bowed.
So, he had finally remembered her name, Clarke thought wryly. Not that she could really blame him, they had not exactly seen one another many times.
She saw Indra look at her closely and again could spot the moment she recognized her despite the hair. Not that good of a disguise, it would seem. At least for people who had seen her before. With some surprise, she realized that the young warrior who was standing behind Indra was Octavia. She felt her brow rise in surprise. This was the position of a Seken. It seemed many things had happened in Tondisi while she was in Azgeda.
She hoped no bad surprise awaited her in Polis.
Indra thanked Lincoln, and told him to return to his post. Then she dismissed the two other grounders that had probably been discussing the reconstruction with her, before turning to Octavia.
"Seken, go find Anya. Tell her the Nymph has arrived. No one else must be told."
Octavia nodded and left the tent, though not without throwing Clarke a questioning glance.
Indra then turned to Clarke.
"Heda will be pleased to see you. She sent Anya here two days ago." She looked at Ponu and Emori. "Who are your companions?"
Clarke made the introductions. "They helped me leave Azgeda discretely." She added. "And they will accompany me to Polis."
Indra nodded before addressing the child and the guide directly. "I suppose you must be exhausted. As soon as Octavia is back with Anya, I will have her show you to a tent for the night."
She had barely finished this statement when the young brunette reentered the tent, followed by Anya and her own Seken – Tris, Clarke recalled.
Indra promptly dismissed her Seken on her new assignment, adding that she was done for the day once their guests were settled. Clarke watched as Octavia looked at her and opened her mouth to protest, only to be silenced by a glare from her Fos. The healer was not fooled that this would fully deter the stubborn girl. Besides, Clarke had questions for her as well about what had happened in Tondisi.
Once Octavia was gone, Anya spoke up.
"Heda will be happy to have you back in Polis. If you agree, I will dispatch a fast messenger to warn her of our arrival first thing tomorrow." She smiled softly. "I understand she did not inform the natblidas of your… traveling plans in case something happened."
Clarke nodded frantically, wanting to relieve the children as soon as possible but fully understanding why Lexa had been cautious. "Of course, of course. Lexa got my letter, then? Is she alright? And the children, they are all well? Nothing bad happened?" She paused. "What about the Mountain? I know the battle was won, but not much else…"
As a healer, she felt somewhat dismayed at missing the aftermath of the battle, when her skills – and abilities – might have been the most useful. Another thing to put on Nia. How many warriors or freed prisoners had died because she wasn't there to heal them? And what about the delinquents?
"Lexa and her novitiates are fine, though there have been a few, poorly realized, attempts. The battle went mostly according to plan with minimal casualties." She paused. "I understand that your former companions will be banished when spring comes, but you should probably talk about this with Raven, she apparently discussed it with Heda before accompanying me back here to organize it all."
Clarke smiled. "Raven is here?"
Anya nodded with a grimace. "She is. I should also warn you that she was wounded in the battle, by another group of unmarked Azgeda warriors. Our healers set her bones, she seems to be healing nicely."
Clarke rose from the chair she had fallen on earlier. "I'll heal her. Where is she?"
Anya took a step forward and pressed on her shoulder to force her back in the seat. "Asleep. As you should be if we are to travel tomorrow."
Clarke fought between her wish to help her friend as soon as possible and her wish to reach Polis as soon as may be. She frowned.
Anya sighed. "Are all of you Skaikru so stubborn?" She muttered. "I have only traveled with Raven from Polis to here, but that was enough to teach me that she does not like having her sleep interrupted. She is not in pain, you may heal her tomorrow. We will need two days to reach Polis, but with a small party we should be fine if we leave by midday tomorrow. Will that be enough for you to settle things with her, or should I warn Heda that we will be delayed for a day?"
Clarke shook her head furiously. No way she was delaying her return to Polis by a day. Not now that she was so close.
"No, I'll make sure everything is settled by midday."
If not, she would just have to convince Raven to build some portable radio so they could communicate once she was back in Polis.
Indra intervened. "Then there is nothing more to discuss tonight. I should warn you, Nymph, that my Seken was not told the true story, and kept away from the mountain, as were almost all the warriors here. I will warn her and Lincoln to keep quiet, but I suppose she will want to talk to you tomorrow as well." She commented with a wry smile.
Clarke simply nodded – she had expected as much – and yawned as she felt the exhaustion catch up to her.
Anya smirked. "I am afraid you have one more thing to do before you can sleep, Nymph."
The healer looked at her uncomprehendingly.
Anya grabbed a strand of her dark hair.
"Wash. The Healing Nymph is blonde. We can say you arrived from the Mountain late tonight, but you need to look the part."
Clarke groaned. Gran had warned her that she would likely need to wash her hair thoroughly two or three times to fully remove the dye. Which meant that she would no get to go to sleep for nearly an hour.