"This is actually more convenient," Octavia said, as her Clarke, Bellamy, and Lincoln sneaked out of Mount Weather. Bellamy had managed to smuggle out three rifles from the Weapon's Room, while Lincoln set on a simple bow and arrow. "At least we have no one to stop us."

Except the guard that stood in front of the door, supervising from the inside at night. But Bellamy dismissed the man, his voice radiating with authority when he dared to try and correct him.

"It's so much better having you as Head of the guard than a delinquent, Brother," Octavia said as they pulled open the door and stepped through it.

He scoffed.

Dawn was still hours away, and a chill clung to the early air, making their breaths visible in the early morning.

Clarke filled her lungs with it, for the first time in six months feeling somewhat content. There was reason in what she decided to do, purpose she hadn't seen before, but had become paramount within the span of a single evening. Her hands still shook uncertainly, but it was okay. Right now, she knew what she was doing.

Lincoln walked in front with Bellamy behind, leaving Octavia and Clarke in the center. The scutterings of animal noises sounded around them, each one bringing Clarke's attention to it. But nothing threatening burst from the trees; no men clutching knives came out of the shadows.

"Octavia, why don't you guard the front with Lincoln?" Clarke asked. She needed to speak with Bellamy.

Octavia seemed to sense that and nodded. But she paused next to her, clearly made uncomfortable by something. "Look, Clarke. I'm sorry for earlier," Octavia said. "About you forgetting responsibility. I didn't know."

Clarke nodded but offered her a small smile. "It's okay. The only reason you didn't know was because I didn't want you to."

Octavia returned the smile and, seemingly satisfied with the exchange, went up to meet Lincoln.

Clarke pulled back, until her steps fell in sync with Bellamy's. He glanced over at her but was quiet for a minute before speaking. "So you're really doing this," he said.

Clarke agreed, the validation of it thrumming like electricity through her body. "Yeah. I am."

He smirked, casting her a ghost of a smile. "Let's just hope this time the alliance will hold."

Clarke let out an airy breath. "It has no choice but to. We'll both make sure of it."

They kept walking but Clarke felt something nag on her and she tapped his arm, forcing him to stop. He did, and eyed her speculatively.

"Bellamy, I need to thank you," she said. "For what you did. What you said. And I also owe you an apology. I'm sorry for making things harder. It wasn't fair to you."

His expression remained the same but he accepted it with a nod. Clarke thought that was it, but then his voice turned a shade darker. "You shouldn't have gone off alone," he said. "When you left. I shouldn't have let you. I'm sorry for that."

They stared back at each other and Clarke wanted to tell him his apology was unnecessary. She'd made the choice to leave and he could take no responsibility for it. He spoke before she could. "Maybe there will come a day when we're not always apologizing and thanking one another."

She chuckled softly at that. "I'm not so sure."

Bellamy shrugged. "Come on. Did you think that any of this would happen?" he asked. "Some things aren't as impossible as they seem."

Clarke shook her head in exasperation as they resumed walking, but looked at him again, this time in what could only be described as wonder. He didn't seem surprised by her decision to return to Tondc. Didn't appear fazed by it. In fact, it was like he'd expected it all along.

"You knew what I was going to decide," she said. It wasn't a question and he merely met her eyes.

"How?"

This time, his smile was real. "Because it's what I would've done."

*****

The grounder compound was still in slumber when they arrived, all but the scouts who nearly sent an arrow through each of them. One materialized a ways from the stone entry, bow still held aloft until their faces came into view.

Clarke rearranged her features and stayed calm. "I need to speak with Indra," she told him, and though she knew he spoke English, Lincoln still translated.

A second passed. Maybe two. Then he motioned them forward, past the entryway. It was eerie at night; the stones jutting from above looked threatening in the sun's absence, each crevice and crack along its surface bleeding moss. Clarke took a deep breath as they were led through it, her heart pounding almost painfully against her ribcage.

It only grew worse when their guide reached one of the stone buildings, the same one she'd run from just the other day. He pulled the door open.

Inside, Indra again stood above the table, gazing down at a crudely drawn map. More candles were set up, bathing the written mountain regions and river marks in a low light. Tyrell was there as well, and it was as if Clarke had only just disbanded, leaving everything exactly how she'd left it.

Indra glanced over at them, pausing at Lincoln, and her eyes seemed to turn black. "Everyone out," she barked in a cold voice. "Except for you," she looked at Clarke.

An unsettled feeling appeared in Clarke's gut but she squandered it and gave the others a nod. They listened, albeit hesitantly and then Clarke was alone with Indra, who was staring at her with bits of candlelight flickering in her irises.

She didn't remark on the time."You have made your choice," she stated, and Clarke gazed back at her, unflinching under her hard scrutiny. "Yes," she said. "And I accept."

"Be warned, Clarke," Indra snapped, "If you so much as risk my people for the Sky people , I will gladly give my life to take yours. The Woods Clan would fair better under no Commander than under a dictatorship."

Clarke let no reaction show on her face. "And I'd let you if I were ever willing to make that kind of call. But you need the Sky People to win this war. So do not misconstrue any alliance I agree to form with treason."

They stared back at each other for a moment, until Indra's gaze broke first. "Very well. I'll send for Heda." She walked past her and out the door and Clarke didn't allow herself a breath until she'd gone. No one made any try to enter and she stood alone in the cold room, except for Tyrell who remained statuesque and silent. Clarke wondered absentmindedly what he was thinking of, to get her own thoughts away from her.

But a couple minutes later, the door opened again and in stepped someone much shorter than Clarke had originally expected. Actually, she'd had very little idea as to what to expect. She'd already known the next Commander was young, but not so young as to be perhaps no more than ten.

A cloak was draped around her shoulders and when she removed the hood, big eyes shown from beneath it. Her skin was dark, darker than Indra's but her eyes were tinged with a light grey, huge orbs glowing in the low light. A mess of black curls framed her heart-shaped face and a car marred her left temple.

Clarke instinctively bowed her head in respect, still recalling the position of power this little girl was in.

"So you're Clarke," The girl said bluntly, her soprano voice ringing like bells as she appraised her.

Clarke nodded. "I am."

"I know," she added. "I remember seeing you here before."

"You speak English," Clarke noted, surprised.

"My father's a Warrior," the little girl explained. "I asked him to teach me your language when I was younger. He agreed because he thought it would be useful." She shrugged letting the rest of the words fall to implication. And he was right.

Maybe this wasn't a question Clarke should have inquire about, but it couldn't be helped. "What's your name?" she asked curiously.

The girl didn't hesitate. "Fara," she answered.

Clarke offered a small smile. "Its nice to meet you, Fara."

Then Clarke looked back to Indra, who was watching them warily. "Heda will not be staying here," the grounder chief said. "She will seek refuge in another clan, until this war is over."

"Or until my mentoring is complete," Fara finished. "But for now, I chose you to lead my people." The girl let a hint of a smile creep onto her face. "I think you'll do well."

Clarke struggled to find the right response, but she lost the opportunity when someone appeared in the doorway, and wiped the tiny smile from Fara's features. "We must go, Heda," a gruff voice called and the Commander looked at him, dismay appearing in her face. But she nodded and pulled back her hood.

She paused before the door, and cast Clarke a final glance. "Protect them," she said. "Please."

And then she was gone, disappearing out the door and into the night.

******

Bellamy didn't know how much time had elapsed until the shadows began leeching away as dawn approached, sky lighting from black to a dull blue. Already he was beginning to get antsy, his patience waning in the coming day.

"How long does this take?" He asked, and looked over at Lincoln expectantly who stood beside Octavia. Lincoln looked back at him, appearing unfazed by the duration spent outside. "This hasn't happened in my life time," he said. "My guess is as good as yours."

Bellamy sighed. A apart of him considered walking in there himself, as he'd spent the night waging the possibility of this all having been a trick. Some elaborate lie. But he didn't feel like it had been and Instead, he stayed where he was, watching the sky as the shades grew lighter and lighter, soaking up night like a sponge.

"What are they even doing in there?" He asked, as if anyone would supply him with an answer.

"Black jack?" Asked Octavia and Bellamy shot her a glare. "This is serious, O."

"I know that," she nearly barked. "I'm the one who brought Clarke in the first place."

That reminded him and Bellamy turned to his sister, narrowing his eyes at her quizzically. "How did you convince Clarke to come here?" he asked, genuinely curious. Convincing Clarke must not have been an easy feat, and the idea she'd come on her free will bothered him.

Octavia's face gave away nothing. "Indra lent some of her assistance," she said cryptically.

Bellamy stared back at his sister, distrust blooming inside him at the mention of that name. "By force?"

Octavia shrugged. "Clarke can be stubborn."

He waited for her to elaborate, because no,sh e wouldn't have made such as stupid decision, but when she didn't, he shook his head disbelievingly. "And you just accepted that? What if this had been a trap? Did you even question it?"

Octavia turned to him. "Of course I did. I know things were bad after Mount Weather, but I also knew Indra wouldn't have hurt Clarke. She had no reason to."

Bellamy just looked at her. "If you'd been wrong, things could've gone very differently."

Octavia met his eyes, the hardness in her voice matching his. "And if I hadn't, we's still be trying to plan out a war we couldn't win. Some risks had to be taken."

"Or you just felt like you couldn't trust me," he deadpanned and the reality of it stung.

Octavia shook her head. "It had nothing to do with trust-"

"You trusted Indra," Bellamy interrupted. "And instead of coming to me, you let her do whatever it took to get Clarke here."

Octavia searched his eyes confusedly. "But she's here, Bell," she said, as if struggling to understand why he was upset.

And he was. Because his sister hadn't come to him when it mattered. She'd trusted someone who had betrayed all of them, over him. And it was something that very easily could've cost Clarke and Octavia their lives.

"That's what matters," she added.

He let out a rough breath. "That isn't the point. Risks have to be taken, yes. But you took a reckless one, and didn't just put yourself in a vulnerable position, but Clarke, too," he said. "You both could've been killed."

"If I thought that, I wouldn't even have considered it," he shot back, an undertone of anger in her voice.

"Exactly," he snapped back. "Not many of the rest of us would've seen it that way. You let personal interest dictate to your judgement."

"But I was right!"

"This time," he agreed. "Yet you still could've taken precautions and you didn't. I don't care if you didn't speak to me, O, just someone. And you said nothing." Octavia glanced at Lincoln who looked at her once but refused to step in on her was between them.

"Because I couldn't," she confessed. "I know Indra, Bellamy. And I wouldn't risk jeopardizing something so important!"

"And that took priority over your lives?" He asked, finding it difficult to keep his voice down. He lowered it, and took as step closer to his sister. "The truth is that you made an impulsive decision and gave yourself no way out. The only reason you're still alive, was because Indra kept her word. That's it. That one thing, Octavia, something she's already broken once."

"Because I knew I could believe her," Octavia shot back. "And I was right. You make it sound like Clarke was harmed. Or that I was forced. But nothing happened, Bell."

"Oh, every decision has its consequences," he snapped. "Every risk has a loss. Even this one, because in making that choice, you sacrificed my trust. And Clarke's. That's not something given to you, O. That's something you have to earn. And you'll have to earn it back again."

She held up her hands. "Wait, so I make one call, and now you think you cant trust me anymore? Because I went to Indra?"

"Because instead of making a choice together, you made it by yourself. And instead of putting your faith in your people, in me, you put your faith in someone who turned their back on us and walked away."

Octavia was about to object, but then the door opened and her voice died in her throat.

Clarke stepped out, followed by Indra who's eyes Bellamy refused to look away from.

"What happened?" Octavia asked, without looking at her brother "Is it finished? Are you the Commander now, or what?"

Indra turned to her. "She is the Locum," she corrected. "And it is not finished yet. Tyrell." The man appeared beside her. "Wake the village. It is time to make the announcement, but keep the Warriors on guard." Indra looked at Clarke. "We have yet to know how well you will be received."

******

Clusters of people gathered before her, some shoulder to shoulder, others standing in solitude, but all had their eyes on Clarke. She caught A myriad of emotions dance across their faces. Curiousity. Hostility. Suspicion. Dread. Even hate. But she met each of them sternly, a silent message that she would not back down.

Clarke was done sitting on the sidelines.

Bellamy and the others stood in the crowd, and many cast glances at them, hateful gazes lingering on the guns. They'd been allowed to have them, because Clarke had allowed it. Her first command had been to keep her people armed amongst those she was chosen to lead.

Indra was the first to speak, her voice apathetic but firm, speaking in Triangesleng. Clarke was able to pick out a few words, but then Indra returned to English, and someone else translated.

"The time for war is coming," she said and the people listened to her intently. "The time for more blood to spill, and victory to be claimed. We will not fall to the Ice Nation. And in order to strengthen our people, Heda has appointed her Locum. Someone she deems fit to lead us."

Murmurs rose through the crowd, weaving together in garbled phrases both English and foreign, until it was one monotony of voice and no longer separate words.

Indra slammed her blade down, the edge carving into the dirt. "Silence!"

Everyone complied, the voices dying away as instantly as they'd come. "No one here will dare rebel against the Commander's order. If any of you do so, you will pay with your lives."

"Avi," Clarke heard one of the people in the crowd mumbled and recognized it.

Sky.

Indras eyes fell in the speaker's direction. "Clarke Griffin," she said, her voice rising an octave. "Has agreed to Heda's terms."

A moment of silence passed, fleeting like a heartbeat.

And then, chaos.

"She's Sky!" Someone in English spat, but Clarke refused to flinch. And she heard her own words repeated back at her. "She'd not even one of us!"

"They burned our people!"

"One of theirs murdered my son!"

Clarke felt fear creep into her gut and she tried to find a way to take control of the situation before Indra made good on her threat. Clarke met Bellamy's eyes in the crowd, and he nodded. Then he raised the barrel of the gun up, and fired a few rounds into the air.

The noise was deafening and the shouts ceased. Some grabbed weapons. Others aimed their bows, but Clarke was already directing their attention away from him. "I know that I'm not one of you," she shouted, and had to repeat it more than once.

Tyrell translated for her. "I know I wasn't born on the ground. I know we've killed some of your people, and likewise, you've killed some of ours. We've tried to form alliances, and they've broken before. More than once. And for different reasons." She looked at everyone in the crowd. "When the Sky People first came here, we were your enemies. You were the threat we feared, the one we spent weeks preparing for. And were naive enough to hope that after you, there was nothing else. That you were our greatest barrier.

"But now you're our only hope," she said, taking Bellamy's words and projecting them to everyone. "And we're yours. I am not your enemy anymore. The Sky People are not the enemy anymore. The only enemy now is buried in the mountains. But now they've come down from them, and it isn't to negotiate peace."

"I've spent four months in the Ice Nation," she admitted, "I've seen their Queen, and their weapons, and they will not be beaten unless we stand on the same side."

"No one has trespassed beyond their borders and lived," someone said and Clarke turned her attention to an older man, his beard greying. "I have," she said. "Which proves that they aren't invincible." She took a deep breath. If she was going to guide these people, they needed to trust her, and she needed to trust them in turn.

She moved around until her back faced them. This was the last time she'd show her scars, because she no longer had a reason to keep them hidden.

Clarke removed her heavy shirt until she was in a tank top, the wounds snaking out from her shoulder blades. She raised the hem, enough for the grotesque ropes of flesh to be visible to their eyes.

More murmurs sounded.

"I know the ruthlessness of them first hand," Clarke told them. "I've seen what they're capable of. And you do not want to risk any one of you falling into their hands." She turned back to face them. "You thought the Mountain Men were cruel. And they were only doing what they thought they had to in order to save their people. But The Ice Nation will make an example out of you. To every single Clan that thinks they can overrun them. Is that what you want as your future?" She asked, gazing around their wide eyes. "Is that the threat you want against your families?

"We've had our differences. We've both shed each other's blood. Each of our people has mourned for the loss of someone. But war is to compromise. And that means doing what you otherwise wouldn't just to survive. I know none of you like it," she added. "You don't have to like it. But you do need to accept it if we're going to make it out of this alive." Clarke tried to look at each of them, into every face amidst the sea of grounders. "For us to stand together, we need to stop standing in the way."

As a people, they took in her words. But one by one, the hostile glances began to disappear, like fireflies being snuffed out.

Minutes passed and some of them looked at each other, and Clarke prayed it wasn't some kind of signal; that they weren't about to attack. But if they were they made no move to show it.

And Clarke stood unsure until something suddenly changed. To her surprise, a single blade rose and pierced the air, soon followed by another until rows of weapons were held aloft, their tips gleaming like teeth.

"Down with the Ice Nation," a voice let out, and the mantra was soon repeated by someone else, circling through the throng until even Bellamy and the others recited it, all eyes still fixed on her.

A surge of triumph coursed through Clarke and she raised her chin. "Down with the Ice Nation."