Chapter 4

Clarke smiled as Anya ate the impromptu stew. She had to admit even to herself that it was good. She was amazed but happy that it was filling.

She sat back in the chair and stretched. Her back was unhappy with her, and she knew that she needed sleep. She needed to take care of Anya, first, though. She'd promised. She knew that a good massage would help them both, but she didn't know if Anya knew how to rub out muscles like she did.

After they finished eating, Anya insisted on cleaning up. She used a little bit of the water to wash out the bowls and pot. She knew just like Clarke that they had to ration what was there for now. They still had another day or two inside before it would be safe to go.

When Anya came back into the main part of the room, she looked at Clarke. She could see how tired she was, and Clarke was looking longingly at the bed. Smiling tightly, Anya moved up to her. She got closer than she normally would, but she wanted to see how Clarke would react to her being so close. She knew that Clarke wanted to take care of her, but would Clarke let her take care of her? It was a question that had plagued Anya the entire that she ate. Clarke had been doing everything to keep them safe and cared for since she pulled her out of the water below the Mountain. Anya knew that she had to repay the kindness, even if she didn't really know how.

"You said that you needed to check me again," Anya stated and waited to see what Clarke would do.

She startled but covered it quickly. She turned to find Anya directly behind her. Clarke flicked her eyes up to meet Anya's. There was that strange fire in Anya's eyes again. Clarke couldn't define it, or if she could, she didn't understand it. Since Anya woke the second time, she seemed more docile. But, even Clarke knew that wasn't the right word. Anya was never docile. She was cold and calculating, so Clarke could only wonder what her angle was now about their union. Did Anya think that it was a good idea, too? Clarke wondered. But, her thoughts quickly turned to the taller woman before her. Clarke wouldn't think that a few inches was enough to intimidate her, but this was Anya, warrior extraordinaire. She could feel the warmth of Anya's body so close, and part of her wanted to surrender to it. Clarke felt needy and she hated it. She just wanted to be held, but she wouldn't dare ask Anya to do it. She was sure that the other woman would just slit her throat in her sleep and be done with it. Well, she had before now. Now, she wasn't so sure what Anya would do. She was surprising Clarke just as much as she was sure she was surprising Anya.

"Yeah, I want to look at your arm and change the bandage."

"Is that wise?"

"Yes, it is," Clarke replied as she took a step back, closer to the bed that Anya had been sleeping in, and raised her hand expectantly.

"Do you have enough supplies for it?" Anya questioned. "I can wait until we get to the village and have it checked there. We do not need to waste your bandages."

"Anya," Clarke said exasperatedly.

"Clarke," Anya replied, coolly.

"Please just let me look at it and make sure that my suturing wasn't in vain," Clarke practically begged, still holding her hand out waiting for Anya's arm.

Anya's mouth crooked a little at Clarke's plea and command in one. Yes, she will make a fine houmon for me, Anya thought as she lifted her arm for Clarke to inspect. Clarke carefully untied and then unwound the gauze she'd used earlier, making sure to keep it in the same order. She knew Anya was right. She'd reuse it this one time and discard it again in the morning. They did have limited supplies, but Anya still needed to keep her arm. Holding the gauze in her right hand, Clarke carefully inspected Anya's stitches. She pushed around the wound looking for fever and abnormal swelling. There wasn't any and Clarke couldn't help the smile that crossed her face.

"So?"

"You'll live," Clarke teased.

"I would hope so," Anya quipped back.

"It looks good. There is no inflammation or fever. Looks like we got it all cleaned out and taken care of before anything could happen. You'll keep your arm," Clarke stated.

"Then, I am glad that you did whatever you though necessary."

Clarke scrunched her eyes in question, but she didn't ask anything. She was just trying to analyze Anya's change in behavior. She could have blamed in on a concussion, but Anya didn't show any signs. She seemed perfectly find considering everything that she'd suffered in the Mountain. Now, she was be obnoxiously...kind. Anya wasn't kind. She was cold, aloof, and distant, but ever since she woke, she was closer to Clarke. She shook the thoughts from her head. Anya must have missed being cared for and around people that weren't warriors. And, maybe she was different outside of war, but Clarke had never seen it to know. She didn't have a point of reference for this side of Anya.

"Did you heal yourself?" Anya asked her.

"I cleaned my wounds, yes," Clarke answered.

"Should they be checked as well?"

"They're fine," Clarke replied quickly.

"Prove it," Anya pushed.

Clarke cocked an eyebrow at her. This was a step that Clarke wasn't prepared for. Anya was now commanding her. She knew that she was fine, but she knew that might have nightmares. There was no cure for those except time and possibly someone to talk to. Clarke didn't think that Anya would volunteer for that job, so it was out of the question. She looked at Anya harder, wondering where this care was just hours before.

"You are tired. You need rest," Anya told her. "But, you need to heal yourself, too. You have to be well for our union to take place. If you need me to help, just ask. I might not be a healer, but I have done my fair share of healing on the battlefield."

"You have?"

"Yes," Anya replied. "I am grateful to know that hooch can help clean wounds even though it burns like a nomajoka. I will remember that for my next battle and make sure that my people carry a small flask to help themselves heal. You are truly a good healer. You say you saved my arm and I believe you, but now, we need to treat your wounds, Clarke. You cannot just simply go on without treating yourself. What could would that do for our people? They wouldn't want you to suffer unnecessarily, would they?"

"Low blow, Anya, low blow," Clarke muttered as she pulled off her shirt.

She hadn't wanted to admit that her ribs were bruised. She knew they weren't broken, but she'd landed harder than she wanted in the tunnels. The cold of water from the pool and the adrenaline coursing through her veins staved off the pain long enough that she'd forgotten about it. She knew it wasn't a bad bruise, but it would be sufficient enough to be marked. She felt the slight pull in side and just worked with it and not against the pain.

"When did that happen," Anya said as she ran for the med kit and the salve inside.

"When we fell from the trash chute in the Mountain," Clarke told her looking into Anya's eyes and seeing fear, but it was fear for Clarke's wellbeing. "When we dropped through the floor and into the reaper tunnels. I hit harder than I thought. I'll be fine in a few days. It smarts, but I'll be okay."

"You need rest."

"You do, too," Clarke countered.

"I have slept enough. It is time for me to take watch. It is your turn to sleep, Clarke. You need your sleep, and we'll talk about the union later. I promise, I will hear you out."

Anya didn't wait for an answer. She reached into the jar of salve and gathered two fingers worth. She smeared it quickly on Clarke's side and her bruised ribs. Clarke smarted and hissed. She looked dead into Anya's eyes and saw her worry start to falter. Clarke took the jar of salve and sealed before setting on the bedside table.

"I don't doubt that, but you need to stretch your muscles or you'll get tighter. Being cramped in that cage wasn't good for your mobility," Clarke stated. "Lay down on your stomach and let me give you a massage. After that, I'll sleep. I promise."

"And, what does this massage do?"

"I'll rub your muscles and loosen them up. It will feel good and keep you moving. It will make sure that you don't get tight and possibly injuring yourself because you moved wrong and your muscles weren't ready for it," Clarke explained.

"And, this is medicine?"

"Yes, at least where I come from it is. It is especially helpful after an injury. We learn how to do these things to help people heal better. Sometimes splinting an injured arm can weaking the muscles while healing the bone, so we have to heal the muscles after. It is something like that, does that make sense?" Clarke asked her.

"Yes, it does," Anya answered and laid down. "I will take this massage. I will this type of your medicine."

Clarke smiled and waited for Anya to get settled. When she was settled, Clarke climbed on top of the bed and straddled Anya's lower back. She right the shirt that she was wearing to make sure that there was some sort of barrier between Anya and Clarke's skin. Normally, Clarke would have a lotion or salve or something to rub Anya with, but supplies were limited and she didn't. Anya's shirt was going to have act as a barrier for now. When she was done with the shirt, she watched as Anya turned her head and laid it upon her hands. She was facing the other bed and the desk. Clarke just reached up and pulled her hair out the way and set up off to the side. Anya cocked an eyebrow but said nothing as Clarke got to work with her hands.

Anya had to bite back a moan as Clarke worked the muscles in her back. She'd had similar treatments to her legs after long rides, but this was downright sinful. Clarke couldn't know what she was doing to Anya. Sure, Anya had been single for a few years. She'd not had a real relationship since her former lover had been killed in the battles with Azgeda. She knew that her body was responding to Clarke's touch in more than a medicinal manner. She was partially ashamed by it betraying her in such a way, but then again, she wondered if she was responding to Clarke's touch that way because of the proposed union. They would have unite their souls and become like one. It was usually done under the stars, in the forests, but Anya couldn't be choosy now. Clarke had already started the proposal, and she meant to finish it. Her body sang from Clarke's touch and she couldn't wait to feel it for real as they completed their bond.

Anya was brought out of her thoughts by Clarke's gentle touch against her cheek. She hadn't remembered closing her eyes, so they flew open at the touch. She turned her head searching Clarke's eyes for something and finding it, even if she couldn't put words to it.

"How does that feel?"

"Good," Anya said simply.

"Good. Now, get up. It's my turn to sleep."

Clarke disembarked off the bed, and Anya immediately sat up. She got up and helped Clarke get into the bed. She could see how tired the blond was. She felt selfish again for allowing Clarke to indulge her when Clarke needed the rest more. She was self-sacrificing. Anya would have to help her overcome that, to a degree. She couldn't have her houmon going on and getting herself killed just because she wanted to help. It would serve no purpose and it would probably destroy Anya completely.

"By the way, there is extra oil for the lamp on the desk, if you need it," Clarke mumbled as she climbed into the bed.

She thought about Lexa after Costia. She could already feel herself being pulled to Clarke. She knew that it would destroy her if Clarke was hurt. She knew that she had to do something in order to protect the blonde even from herself. She was almost as bad as Lexa, but it was because she felt too damn deeply. But, unlike Lexa, Clarke didn't hide it. She was out and open with it. Anya was going to have to teach her to rein it in, or Clarke would get used by the other leaders in the Kongeda.

As soon as Clarke was set, Anya mounted her like Clarke had. She rubbed her hands down Clarke's back. She tried to remember the movements that she felt and mimic them. She must have been doing it right because Clarke moaned. She smiled. She knew that she wasn't just helping her future houmon heal, she was making her feel good. Anya smiled and continued to rub. Eventually she felt Clarke's breathing change as she fell asleep. Happy that she'd relaxed her houmon, Anya worked herself off Clarke and then bed without waking her. She quickly gathered the blankets and covered her up. Now, that Clarke was asleep, Anya had to plan.

She had to come up with her own offerings for Clarke. She was too prideful to let Clarke be the only one to declare her want for the union. She knew that Clarke didn't mean it as a slight, but she also knew that she had to thank the fools, Linkon en Okteivia, for telling Clarke what to do. Anya wasn't so prideful that she worried about status, but she knew that being bonded to the leader of Skaikru would carry a lot of weight, especially with Lexa. And, Clarke was going to need her weight behind the union to convince most of Trikru to not kill her on sight. She knew that Lexa would forgive her for the 300 warriors. She would have to because it had been war, but as soon as their union took place the clans would be united, for the most part. Lexa would make it happen, and would announce that Skaikru was now part of Trikru or she would make them the thirteenth clan, cementing them into the Kongeda by their union alone until someone from Skaikru proper could take the brand. She would demand that Clarke represent them in Capitol, for two reasons. One to keep Anya close, so she didn't lose her mentor again, and two, because she would to learn from Clarke about their ways. That was one thing that she made Lexa learn over and over again. Never stop learning and learn from everyone around you. It will save your life one day, Anya told her many times. But, to get all that she had to find something for Clarke.

She sat at the desk. Leafing through the drawings and sketches of various colors, Anya was amazed. Clarke was talented with her capture of people. She recognized some of them as others that were in Clarke's group. The injured girl before her injury. Octavia. Two young boys laughing with cups in their hands. There was a small girl, probably the youngest among them. Her eyes were haunted. Anya recognized the demons staring back at her. She could feel how Clarke wanted to help them all, but all she had were memories. The drawings were so real. She stumbled upon one picture that she assumed was Clarke's family.

It was a blond man like her and a small brunette woman. She favored them both. They were all smiling and standing in front of what looked like window. She didn't recognize the landscape though. It just looked like a sea of stars with a bright blue marble behind them. Everything else in the picture was grey. Anya couldn't help if that was a memory from her Ark in the stars. Is that what the sky looked like above? Anya could only wonder.

Three more pictures down and she stopped cold. There was a sheet that just bore multiple versions of Tris. In some she was smiling. In another, she was crouched low like she was hunting. There was one of her laughing in front of campfire. Anya was taken aback by the artwork. Clarke had never seen Tris like this. They had only met on the bridge before it was blown and then when Anya forced her to try to cure the girl. She knew that Clarke had done everything that she could, but Tris didn't survive. It was the same night that Linkon betrayed their people and rescued Clarke. The night that Tris died was the night that she'd lost her friend in banishment. Anya closed her eyes, trying to blink back the tears. Clarke had captured Tris perfectly. She might not know why Clarke chose to draw her former sekkon, but it was a creation that Anya would cherish.

And, then Anya gasped. Were those drawings of Tris and others a gift to Anya for the offerings of creation? If they were, then Clarke had completed the cycle. They would only have to join for the union to be complete. She knew that Lexa might find the gifts lacking for Anya's worth, but she didn't and that was what mattered. If Anya accepted the offerings, regardless of worth, and accept Clarke as her houmon, not even Lexa could break their bond. Only they could or death.

She looked over at the blond. She went to the back of the bunker and found a piece of metal and a rock. It wasn't sharp, yet, but Anya could and would make it into a decent knife. She knew what she had to do, so she sat at the desk and started working the metal to a point. Clarke had fulfilled the three offerings before they bonded their bodies and soul. Anya would not bond without reciprocating. She looked to the bunker door. She could hear the storm still raging as Clarke slept.

A plan formed in her mind. She would have to be quick and sure. She kept working the metal. By the time that Clarke awoke, she would have her offerings. She would make Clarke proud to be her houmon.