No memories, no more

Hello guys! After a long time I decided go back to writing. My life became a mess and in that time, I fell in love with The 100.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, except for my crazy ideas and OC.

New note: I'll be re-posting the chapters 1 to 10, revised. A kind soul called shasha03 is helping me to review and correct the text. xoxo for you Shasha!

Now, chapter 1 reviewed

Chapter 1: Sometimes, forgiveness is not enough.

"If you need forgiveness, I'll give it to you okay. You're forgiven." Bellamy sounded distressed. Distressed to see a good friend broken into pieces. Pieces that he knew he wouldn't be able to help fix. From the moment that Clarke and the others landed on Earth, nothing was easy. It was all so much harder than any of them would ever wish.

But he knew, deep in his heart and mind, that none of that had stained Clarke's soul as much as the deaths had. Wells had been the first crack, but the others were the ones that hurt most. The three hundred grounders sent to attack the Drop Ship, the eighteen deaths by Finn's hands, the two hundred and fifty in TonDC caused by the missile and the three hundred deaths in the mountain. The deaths of the innocent children in the mountain had hurt the most.

One way or another he knew that this girl, no, not girl he corrected himself mentally. That this woman, the leader he could never be, needed to heal on her own.

"I can't... I'm sorry, Bell. Please take care of them for me?" Bellamy nodded quietly, his eyes was hard, just to avoid the tears that he knew was forming in his eyes. He loved this girl in front of him with the same love that his felt for his sister. And he knew this was a promise that he would fulfill even if it meant his death.

He prayed then. He prayed to any entity that existed, that the blonde would return to her people. And when the camp's gate finally closed behind Clarke, he prayed a little harder when he realized that the person who will deliver the news to Clarke's mother and friends would have to be him. He prayed that his words were strong enough to calm the minds and hearts of his friends.

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Clarke wandered through the woods, trying to cover as much ground as possible during the daylight. It's been sixty-five days since she walked away from Bellamy and the rest of her people. Clarke was starting to heal. She couldn't deny that the purgatory of living in the woods, in a cold autumn, wasn't a good punishment. She never imagined that Earth classes on the Ark would help that much, of course, she wasn't the greatest hunter or anything like that. But the little that she learned from the Tree People, the Trikru as she had learned to call, had helped.

The blonde's diet basically depended on nuts, small fruits and some small rodents. She followed a river, knowing that there would be more chances to find animals and of course to have access to water. In her days of nomadic journey, she crossed a good amount of unexplored territory. She suspected that she had gone much farther north than she would have liked, seen from the slight freezing of the vegetation. Clarke considered if it was better to go south, to warmer lands.

She didn't have much time to ponder over the idea however as a few hours into her journey, Clarke unfortunately noticed too late that she was being followed. She couldn't say how many or who they were, only that she knew they were there. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on ends, knowing that she was being watched.

"Fuck," she muttered under her breath. She had been running for several minutes trying to get away from whoever it was that was chasing her, but she knew it was useless. Clarke looked back nervously and then ran into something hard. The blonde was thrown on her back and when she looked at what she had hit, she saw a man wearing a crude smile on his face.

"Well, well, well, what have we here. Wanheda in person." He spoke in a low tone, almost a vicious snarl. "Look guys, our Queen would be pleased if we killed that bitch." He spoke to the other men who were approaching. Clarke looked around, there were three men who emerged between the trees. All with the same look of man in front of her. "I think it's time we had a talk." He reached down and grabbed her by the hair, pulling the blond's face to his. "Very, very closely."

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Clarke didn't know how much time had passed, all she knew was that the pain that she was feeling was horrible. Her left eye would not open any more than a small crack and the right was horribly blurred. Everything hurt, every part of her body ached. She had no strength to move or even defend herself. God knows that she tried, tried to flee, to escape. Tried to block the kicks and punches that seem to come from everywhere. She saw that her four attackers were enjoying hurting her. She could see it in their eyes.

Through it all she still got a good look at the men. They were four strong warriors, tall, she supposed, much taller than Lincoln. The first man, the one that she hit while trying to run, was massive. Absurdly strong and muscular. He had an almost reddish brown hair and red beard, both long. The beard almost touched the man's chest. His brown eyes were hard and insensitive. There were marks all over his face, like burns or scars. The second was a dark-skinned man, extremely white teeth, with a short messy beard. Out of the four, he appeared to be the most uncomfortable with it all. He repeatedly had to be given orders from the redhead to hit Clarke.

The third man was a lot like the other Trikru warriors that she met. Long and well tied brown hair, long beard like the redhead, however it was bound by an ornament. The fourth man, Clarke could tell from a distance, that he was the leader of the small gang. He was a man with an almost blond brown hair with blue and malicious eyes. He had an average beard, much grayer than the others and a large scar that cut across his face. What scared Clarke the most when she looked at this man was the sick sense of pleasure reflected on his face. The pleasure of torturing and seeing her suffer.

They spoke in a language that she didn't understand, but she knew that they were offensive. And that's when she noticed a metallic sheen in the redhead's hand, and she knew it was the end. This is when Clarke Griffin dies as a fugitive from her own people, a martyr, someone who would be delivered in pieces to her loved ones.

"We can't kill her." One of the men barked. Clarke supposed it was the blonde. "The Queen said to not take more than a prize."

"I'll only cut off her head..." The man with the knife said in a warm tone, full of horrible pleasures.

"No." The leader, who was also the quietest of the four, spoke low. "Cut off her hair. Throw this bitch's body into the bank. Let the animals dishonor the flesh." He said and spat into the girl's face. "This slut doesn't deserve the honor of a honorable death."

Clarke felt the man grab her bloodied blonde hair, and the knife cut so quickly that she hit the ground hard. That's when she felt a foot pressed against her back and then someone kicked her close to the edge of the river bank.

"Goodbye Wanheda." And with that Clarke was thrown to her death.

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A woman emerged between the trees, she was tracking a group of deer that she had seen a few miles from where she camped. She was of medium height, small built, short brownish hair and brown eyes. In fact there was nothing special about the girl. She was wearing warm clothing, mainly in brown and gray tones, vaguely resembling the fur of mountain wolves.

The brunette walked silently to a nearby where there were signs of the group of deer that she had sought after. But what she saw made her even more intrigued, she looked around again, just in case, searching the area. Brown eyes returned to the original point. It was a body, tangled in the stream bed, with a red pool around it. She briefly wondered if it was really human or a carcass of some animal. But curiosity, a trait that her mother had called her out on more than once, made her approach slowly.

The creature was still breathing, but the breathing seems wrong, short and spaced. The brunette slowly touched it and rolled the creature over. It was definitely a person. But she saw the damage that was done to the person's face, the brunette just sighed deeply and wondered what to do. For she often ends up regretting her goodness and concern for others. Another defect that her mother had pointed out to her. She knew that not everyone deserves the help that they received. With a long sigh, she made her decision.

She slowly returned into the dense forest, grabbing a few long tree branches and several vines along the way. Quickly, because clearly the aim was practicality and not beauty, she set up a makeshift stretcher to transport the person to a safe place. She suspected that whoever it was that had done it, wasn't far away. And she really didn't want to become a random target. The brunette quickly checked on her weapons, her knives, swords and bow were all there and then she sighed, momentarily relieved.

The brunette then returned to the bloodied body, pulled it onto the stretcher and then went to the cave where she camped. Once there, she quickly pulled the person in and left it there. She had to cover the blood trace to avoid any unnecessary predators. After quickly cleaning up any traces of blood, she started gathering herbs that she knows were right next to the cave. She didn't know the extent of the damage done to the person, so she grabbed as much as she could find. After taking precautions and collecting the materials, she returned the cave to start treating the person.

After removing what little that was left of the strange clothes of the women, she concluded that the women should be from a distant village. She quickly assessed the damage and with a rag soaked with healing herbs, she began to clean the wounds.

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Clarke didn't know how much time had passed while she slept, she really didn't know exactly which stage of consciousness she was in. She couldn't open her eyes and everything was dark, quiet and blurry in her mind. She concentrated on her breathing first. The first sense to return to her was her touch, she felt warm fur enveloping around her body, like a cocoon. Soon afterwards she smelled something burning, and then she heard the sounds of crackling wood. She then realized how dry and bitter her mouth was. She doubted she'll be able to say anything right away.

The lack of vision proved most difficult, her eyes wouldn't open at all. But with some effort she slowly managed to slightly open her right eye. Though for some reason the left eye just didn't seem to respond and was in a lot of pain. The blonde, despite her vision being limited and blurred, could make out that someone was at her side. Someone unknown, but she felt that she could trust. Slowly she tried to sit up, only to be stopped by a wave of pain.

"Don't try to move, you're really hurt." The person that she now recognized to be a woman spoke softly. Clarke tried to speak, but only managed a grunt. "Drink this, it will help. You may not like the taste of it though." The woman was right, the liquid was strongly bitter and Clarke felt like she was licking a muddy ground. She grimaced slightly, but drank the whole glass that the woman kindly brought it to her lips. "You can try to talk now."

"I..." Clarke tries to think for a moment, but her memories were just a dark veil. "I..." She tried again.

"What is your name?" The woman asked quietly when she saw the youth's confusion.

"Clarke." She responded immediately.

"Hello Clarke, my name is Michi." The brunette said in a brief smile. "Do you remember what happened to you?"

"I..." Clarke frowned. "I don't remember anything..." She felt tears forming when she try to force her brain to remember something, anything.

"It's okay, Clarke. You were unconscious for six days. Your confusion is normal." The brunette said in a low voice, as she did the blonde drank some more tea. "There are many injuries on your body. You have a broken arm. I secured it, but it will take time to heal. This same arm was dislocated. But I put it back in place." Michi sighed briefly.

"What else?"

"There are actually a lot of injuries..." Michi looking for a moment. "At least five of your ribs are broken, part of your face, I imagine that it's cracked, especially up your left eye and cheek. There is a lot swelling there. That's why you aren't able to open that eye. There are also two cuts on your head, near to the back of your neck and one on the side, the second was really difficult stop the bleeding and maybe that's why you're confused... I didn't count the number of bruises that have emerged and minor cuts, because are a lot, but your head suffered the most damage, I think ... "

"You think?" Clarke asked in a small and confused voice.

"Yes, I was afraid you wouldn't wake up." She spoke quickly. "This tea will help with the pain, but I need you to eat something." Clarke agreed uncertainly as Michi slowly fed spoonfuls of fruit cream for. "Sorry I didn't have something more nutritious, with your condition I didn't have much time to hunt."

"It's all right, thank you for helping me." Clarke thought for a moment. "Do you know who did this to me?"

"No, I found you on the edge of a stream, you're actually the first person I've seen in a long time around this area." Clarke was intrigued.

"Why is that?"

"This forest is the border between the Trikru and Azgeda, many don't travel here..." Michi spoke as if it were obvious. But this information made her even more confused.

"Who?" She blinked curiously.

"Hum... You can say that they are the Tree People and the Ice Nation. They are enemies, they don't get along, well since the Ice Queen killed the Commander's lover." Michi rubbed her chin thoughtfully.

"That seems to have been bad..." Clarke said for the sake of saying something, because really, she didn't know who these people were.

"It really was, it triggered a major war that lasted four years. It was nasty. But the Commander won the war and that the Queen had to bow before her." Michi commented in a finality tone. "Anyway, enough history. Sleep a little more. I'll go hunt for food." Clarke nodded slightly, the brunette then gave a brief nod and stood up. When she left the cave, Clarke was slowly giving way to fatigue and then everything went dark again.

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