"So," Lexa said, her arms crossed as she leant back against the table's edge. "I have a plan that I think will work."

"I see," Bellamy's head cocked to the side from where he sat in a chair. "Something tells me it's not going to be simple."

Lexa nodded as she glanced over to Maya, the woman ever quiet as she sat aside, perhaps because she had fallen into the habit of staying out of sight since joining forces with Clarke, however that had happened. And maybe simply because she liked not being the centre of attention. Whatever the reason, Lexa wouldn't judge.

"Anya needs a distraction," she said. "One that lets her poke around Mount Weather a little bit more freely without having to worry about getting caught. "And we also need to convince Kane and the others that Mount Weather can't be trusted, that everything they've been told is a lie," and she glanced over at Maya to see her frowning in thought as she seemingly tried to see where the conversation was going.

Bellamy hummed a noise as he, too, seemed to consider the options before them.

"We're getting you inside Mount Weather," Lexa continued. "And before you say anything, let me explain," she held up a hand to silence any arguments Bellamy may have had.

"Go on," he shrugged, perhaps because he didn't actually have any arguments, perhaps because he was happy to let her do the thinking for the moment.

"With you in Mount Weather it'll be easier to convince the others that what they've been told is a lie—"

"I can vouch for us not being beaten, that the grounders aren't actually the reapers," Bellamy guessed.

"Yeah," Lexa said. "It gives Anya another person on her side who we can trust. Plus it gets you back with Octavia," Lexa continued. "We're killing two birds with one stone."

Bellamy frowned a little more deeply as he considered her words.

"But that leaves you out here, alone," and he gestured around them as if to punctuate his words. "No offence Maya," he added.

"None taken," she said quietly as she continued to take in the conversation before her.

"It's probably a non-negotiable," Lexa said, "Clarke's not going to let me go, not when she thinks I'm still valuable to our people, not when she thinks I can help negotiate between our people if it comes to it," Lexa wouldn't touch on the other reasons.

"That explains how me being in the Mountain is good," he said. "But how exactly do we make that happen?"

Lexa took just a moment to go over her plan in her own mind, to make sure she thought it the best course of action, one that would work in a timeframe she thought everyone could agree on.

"We stage a prison break," she said. "He make it obvious that we're trying to get away, we make sure Mount Weather notices, they'll want to rescue us," and she shook her head just once. "We make a bit song and dance about it and they'll send out more of their security detail to make sure Clarke and her people won't try something. In that commotion Anya can use it to access the lower levels, actually see for herself. And if it lines up with what Maya has told her, what you've seen, then we can go to Kane, to the others and tell them what we know."

"Mount Weather isn't just going to let us in with open arms," Bellamy countered. "Not when they think we've been captured all this time."

"Yeah," and Lexa sighed. She knew the next part would be the most unpleasant. Though for some reason she actually thought Bellamy wouldn't take too much convincing. "We're both going to have to be beaten," she said.

"Ah," Bellamy's eyebrows lifted in surprise.

"Pretty badly," and Lexa winced as she considered the pain that would come next. "I'll be shot in the leg with an arrow," she said. "You're going to be helping carry me. But the grounders will catch up. They'll attack and then once Mount Weather gets close enough I'll get shot right in front of everyone," she paused. "In the chest," Lexa looked down as if she were imagining the arrow, perhaps in an attempt to steady her mind, maybe simply so she didn't need to look at the doubt in Bellamy's eyes lest it sway her from the plan. "You'll be forced to leave me, the grounders will grab me and pull me back but you'll be free."

Lexa could tell Bellamy was trying to grasp everything she had said, she could see him thinking over the challenges, the problems, everything that could go wrong.

"But you're going to be really hurt," he said simply.

"The Commander is going to let you use her blood, isn't she?" Maya's voice sounded out quietly.

"Yeah," Lexa nodded. "I've already discussed this with her," amongst other things.

"And if they hit a lung? An artery? Something more vital by accident?" Bellamy asked. "How do you know you'll recover completely?"

"I have a feeling her blood will heal almost any injury getting shot by an arrow could cause," Lexa said, and she wouldn't explain further, not when she wasn't entirely sure she could explain how Clarke had demonstrated her blood's healing capabilities, not when she didn't even know if she was allowed to say more than the bare minimum.

But as Lexa glanced over to Maya she could tell the other woman was thinking from the way her eyes were narrowed in thought, head tilted to the side and a clear understanding hidden in her gaze.

"If anything," Lexa said. "If you get into Mount Weather, if you can get access to some of the blood, you can use it to heal yourself in front of Anya, in front of anyone else. Surely that has to convince some people, right?"

Bellamy nodded his head, and though he didn't speak, didn't voice any concerns, Lexa could tell he was worried.

"Ok," he said, and she was thankful he was trusting in her, trusting in the plan. "I can't think of another way to get Anya the help we can provide as quickly as getting me into the Mountain, no matter how crazy the plan is," he shrugged. "It's risky."

"Yeah," Lexa said. She wouldn't voice it lest she jinx the whole plan, but she had considered the dangers if they were somehow both recaptured by Mount Weather, if Clarke's people couldn't get her out without themselves getting killed in the cross fire."We'll make it work."

"Ok," Bellamy nodded, perhaps more to himself than to anyone else particular. "When do we need to go?"

"Tomorrow night."

Anya tried to stifle a yawn as she continued to unpack a number of radio equipment. Large crates had been brought from one of the many sections of the Ark that had made its way to Mount Weather. Some a little more damaged than others.

It had been a slow process getting some of the supplies to and from one outpost to another. Partly because those from Mount Weather needed the almost daily anti-radiation injections, some more than others. At face value it wasn an occurrence that seemed innocent enough to those from the Ark that no one really thought much of it. But considering what Lexa had told her, Anya couldn't help but to feel just a little uneasy every time she saw one of them pull out a vial and inject themselves with the black liquid.

She wouldn't ask too many questions though. Not when she didn't want to raise any questions. She'd get those answers soon enough anywa—

"Hey," Octavia's voice cut into her thoughts.

"Yeah?" Anya asked as she looked up to find Octavia standing in front of her, an arm full of radios, her eyes squinting through the overhead fluorescent lights that lit this particular section of Mount Weather.

"Where do you want theses?" Octavia tried to shrug a shoulder only to curse herself as one radio almost broke free from her control.

"Just over there for now," Anya said. "We'll sort through everything more carefully once we've had a chance to separate the working from the broken."

Truthfully, she was wasting time, not getting involved in anything that would steal her away from the Mountain for at least another 24 hours.

Octavia nodded her head and Anya noticed the younger woman's eyes follow someone from Mount Weather moving behind her before she heard the telltale sound of a door opening and then closing.

"We're alone," Octavia said. "It's happening tomorrow night, right?"

"Yes," Anya looked over her own shoulder to make sure no one else was present in the rather large storeroom before she stood and rolled her shoulders.

"Do you know what Lexa has planned?" Octavia asked as they both began to move to the other side of the room, Anya quick to take some of the radios from Octavia's arms.

"No," she said and she shrugged. "I didn't think to ask," it was true. But she also didn't think it a good idea for her to know any specifics lest her involvement some how be discovered. Compartmentalisation and all that, she thought.

"I was mopping some of the corridors leading to the restricted areas earlier," Octavia continued. "I got asked a couple times what I was doing, but I think they bought my excuses. Didn't hurt that someone from the Ark was with them, said that was my job in space, too."

Anya nodded, and for the briefest of moments she felt a slight pang of sadness at Octavia's words.

"They're got cameras, but I'm pretty sure most of them don't work. Or at least are turned off at night," Octavia continued.

"How do you know?"

"They're similar to the ones on the Ark," Octavia shrugged an answer. "Or at least look like it. I know when the ones on the Ark broke down, when they needed fixing. When they were shut down to save power. It makes sense Mount Weather would be having the same issues, right?"

Anya shouldn't have been surprised by that. She'd made note of the shared similarities between the Ark and Mount Weather more times than she had realised. And it made sense. Perhaps a little too much sense for it reminded her of the things that Ark had been forced to do to survive over the years. And yet, despite those things, she didn't think they had ever stooped so low. Or maybe they had never had the lowest of options available to them.

Whatever it was, she'd rather not think about it unless she had to.

"Good work," Anya said.

"Just trying to help," Octavia smiled quietly, her eyes just a little brighter.

Clarke stood in the shadows, the section of the tunnels she stood in set aside from the main network that snaked through the underground. A small selection of warriors mingled about in front of her, each one moving about, some carrying supplies, others readying weapons. Others lay on cots of warm furs as they found a little rest.

The group, a mixture of mostly Azgeda and Trikru with an occasional member of another clan who had caught her eye, had all been hand selected by her over the years, each one accompanying her on any and every mission or travel or task she set herself upon.

Clarke took in a deep breath and she let herself consider for one last time any contingencies she would need to put into action should the plan Lexa had come up with fail. And then she cast it aside.

She stepped out from the shadows, not to be seen, not to surprise, for she knew her presence was already known, but to see. To acknowledge. She made eye contact with each warrior she passed as she moved through their ranks, she bowed her head, nodded, offered a small smile to each and every one until she had moved through all of them and come to a halt at the other end of the tunnel.

As she turned back to face them she found that they had formed a line in front of her, heads held high, shoulders squared. Amongst them stood Ontari, the woman's gaze hard, eager, perhaps a little too keen in the candle light. Her father stood not far from Ontari, his presence perhaps a little more prominent, his stature a little more foreboding as he loomed over those near him.

Clarke made no exceptions for those who served under her command. Not when it came to decisions of life and death. She couldn't. Not when her people looked at her the way they did, not when she demanded so much of them. If she were to ask of them things that required their all, she knew she must be willing to share in that burden, in that pain and suffering should it fall upon her shoulders.

"Thank you for volunteering," Clarke said, her voice quiet, though she knew it would carry out to those around her. "I need not remind you of the dangers," she continued. "The risks. The fact that you will, by any measure, be fighting with one hand tied behind yours backs," she paused to make sure her words were understood.

She didn't expect any of them to refuse, in part because it was simply their duty to serve. In part because they had accepted long ago that they were destined to be selected for some of the most dangerous tasks. And in part because they were the chosen few who were honoured to travel with the Commander wherever she went.

But, Clarke thought, the most important of reasons was simply because she cared for each of them, she made sure they knew it and she knew they knew.

And so Clarke moved to one end of the line of warriors. A woman stood in front of her, not much younger than herself, hair a flaming red, braided back out of her eyes to reveal a scar etched from her temple back behind her ear. Clarke knew her to be quick on her feet, faster than most would expect with the aim of a warrior many years her senior.

Clarke pulled one of her many knives free, the glint of its edge catching the torchlight as she slid the blade across her palm, the black of her blood oozing out as if it were a living, writhing mass of pain and turmoil. Clarke cupped her hand to catch as much of the blood as she could as her wound already began to sting and burn and stitch itself back together. And then Clarke lifted her hand, and smeared her blood across the woman's face, the action gentle, kind, possessive and intimate.

Clarke repeated the process with each and every warrior, she waited long enough between them that her wound would heal before cutting into her skin in front of their very eyes, to make sure they knew she bled with them, to make sure they knew she would feel at least some of the pain they could soon be facing.

And then Clarke came to a stop at the other end of her warriors, each one's face smeared with the black of her blood. It dripped into the lines of their skin, followed the ridges of scars that adorned the Azgeda amongst them, bled into the intricacies of the Trikru tattoos woven upon battle-hardened skin and it smeared their faces a deathly black.

"The Commander's spirit is with you," Clarke said.

And with that she bowed her head and she turned back into the shadows to leave her warriors alone while they prepared themselves for battle.

It was dark. The last twenty-four hours had gone by more slowly than Lexa had imagined they could. She hadn't even seen Clarke, Ontari, anyone else of importance for that matter. A warrior had stopped by, given them words that Clarke was overseeing preparations, that she wished to concentrate on the planning at hand. But Lexa couldn't help but to think Clarke avoiding her in some way, perhaps not in a childish sense, perhaps simply to clear her mind. But avoiding her nonetheless.

Lexa paced back and forth slowly and she chewed on her lip. The sounds of life outside the small room continued as they always did. She could hear voices, some of laughter, others more serious. She could hear the sounds of birds, even the rustling of the trees and the neighing of horses as they settled in for the night.

And yet despite how normal everything seemed, Lexa felt nervous, anxious on edge. She knew exactly why, though. Ever since her capture there had been a lull in action, in things that needed to happen. It had felt to her like a wave had always been on the verge of cresting but had yet to break. But now was different. She thought things could move quickly, would move quickly once Anya had the evidence she needed, once Bellamy was inside the Mountain to help. She couldn't do anything until then, though, perhaps that was why she felt nervous.

Lexa looked over at Bellamy, the man sitting in a chair, his eyes transfixed on a particularly uninteresting piece of table as his thoughts clearly came and went without too much thought.

"This is going to suck," he said suddenly as he looked up at her.

She didn't quite respond, but Lexa's head tilted to the side just a little.

"Getting beaten," Bellamy added. "It's going to hurt if they want it to look real."

Lexa nodded her head. She had tried not to think too hard about that fact. But it seemed Bellamy had other ideas.

"It'll be over soon," she said and she shrugged. "At least you wont be getting shot with an arrow."

Bellamy frowned before sighing.

"Is it not nice of me to be happy about that?"

"I wouldn't blame you," Lexa said with a wry smile, "I don't think it's going to be nice."

"No," he said with a sigh. "I don't think it will—"

The door to their building they were in opened and five warriors stepped inside. Each one as fierce in appearance as the next. Their bodies were adorned with weapons, leathers and furs, everything Lexa had come to expect from Clarke's warriors. She didn't realise just when she had been able to tell them apart, but Lexa found herself able to recognise that these warriors were Clarke's personal guard, ones that seemed to be kept closer to Clarke than others.

What was different about them, though, was that each one had a smearing of what Lexa assumed to be Clarke's black blood across their faces. She could see the outline of Clarke's fingers across some and Lexa could more than picture exactly how Clarke had painted their skin with the blood from whatever cut she had inflicted into her palm.

It wasn't that she had thought the plan free of danger and not serious, but seeing the five warriors standing in front of her made her realise just how seriously Clarke seemed to take it.

"It is time," one of them said, the man, Lexa recognised to be Clarke's father.

She swallowed a lump in her throat as she stood and she glanced over at Bellamy to find apprehension on his own face.

"This will be quick," Jake said quietly as he stepped forward, his fists wrapped in thick leathers Lexa knew would protect his knuckles while simultaneously helping to inflict more damage to their faces.

Lexa took in a deep breath as she eyed the warriors in front of her and she felt Bellamy come to stand by her side as he braced himself for the next few moments.

"We have warriors already in the forests," Jake said, his gaze moving between them, and if Lexa looked hard enough she was certain she could see Clarke in his eyes, in the way his gaze was hard, hidden at times, sure of itself. "They are looking for the closest Mountain Man patrol," he continued and he came to stop in front of her. "They will follow them, and once we are in place they will lure them to us," he squared himself up in front of her. "You will then use your weapon," and he gestured to one of the other warriors who held out a handgun they must have taken from their people some time ago. "The noise will attract the Mountain Men and you will be rescued."

"What happens if you guys get into trouble?" Lexa asked, genuine concern briefly flickering through her mind.

"Do not worry about that," he said. "We have already planned for a confrontation."

Lexa took in a deep breath as she steadied herself, that very motion becoming all too familiar to her.

"Ok," she said. "I'm ready," and she looked at Bellamy to find him closing his eyes tightly.

He must have sensed her looking at him though for he smiled something oddly comforting given the circumstances.

"I don't want to see what's coming," he said.

And with that Bellamy's head snapped back with a crack.

Lexa couldn't help but to gasp in surprise as Jake's fist flashed out faster than she could have expected before it collided with Bellamy's nose. Blood exploded from the impact, some of it spattered against her cheek and Bellamy made the strangest of sounds as he reeled back, stumbled, tripped on his own feet before being caught by two guards who held him up.

The second blow to his face split his lip open, the impact leaving a jagged tear that seemed to open up far too much for comfort as he spluttered on blood that must have filled his mouth.

And then Lexa saw it.

There was the flash of something in the corner of her eye, something blurred, fast, far too close for to really do anything about. She had only enough time to think of a single curse before her own head was rocked back, and she felt the bone in her nose give way, she felt pain fill her face and tears fill her eyes.

And it hurt. So, so much.

Lexa had never actually broken her nose before. She had read that they bled a lot, had seen it, too from accidents on the Ark. But the fact that she could feel blood pouring down her face, that she could taste it and that she didn't know if it was tears of blood filling her vision was enough to make her want to never break it again.

She distinctly heard another blow directed at Bellamy and for the briefest of moments she wondered if she had been spared the worst of it before she felt two large hands grip her shoulders.

And then she really hurt.

Whoever kneed her in the stomach, kneed her hard enough to lift her off her feet. She distinctly heard a crack and then pain pierced through her side.

A ragged, gargled, terrible sound escaped her lips as she fell to her knees, her body curling into itself as pain consumed her body. She knew her ribs were broken, she knew she wouldn't be able to walk on her own, and she knew it would look real to the Mountain Men, because it was real.

Lexa thought she was sobbing in that moment as someone pulled her to her feet, uncaring of the pain in her side as she tried to double over, to instinctively protect herself from anymore pain.

She could hear Bellamy's ragged breathing next to her and knew him to be in a similar state to her. And then she heard it. There was a briefest sound of a bowstring being pulled back, the barest hint of a whistle and then she felt an impact in her thigh that should have hurt, should have caused more pain than it did.

The force of the impact made her stumble, would have made her fall to the ground if strong hands weren't holding her up on her feet, but they were. And as Lexa managed to look through the tears and the blood and the pain, she found herself staring at an arrow that protruded from her thigh, the shaft still quivering just barely.

And then the pain started.

Maybe it was the initial impact that hadn't registered, or maybe it was the fact that she was staring at an arrow sticking out of her leg. Whatever the reason, she suddenly felt all the pain rush into her mind and she couldn't help but to strangle out a sound that seemed so animalistic as it tore from her throat.

And then the last thing she felt before she lost consciousness was her body being lifted on Bellamy's shoulders, the pain in her ribs more than she could stand.