Lincoln left to find Octavia, who was supposed to bring Clarke to the bridge.

                A man came to my side while I waited; I was outside, no longer forced to sit on the hard floor of the gloomy medical ward. He crouched down and poked at the fire. Even though it was daylight, they still had them burning, tossing on a log here and there. Smoke funneled up towards the bluish sky, and sparks were spat out by the protesting logs.

                I was slightly nervous around him, but his mask was off and it was clear to see that his features were sharp, bold even. He was very handsome, just as Lincoln was. His eyes darted to the side, staring at me staring at him.

                “What?” He asked, his tone velvety.

                “Nothing.” I retorted, though I continued to look into his eyes just as he did with me.

                “I see why Lincoln keeps going back.”

                “What did you just say?” I asked, my voice almost light and airy.

                “You heard me.”

                He was right; I did hear him.

                “What did you mean?” I ran my hands through my slick hair; I really needed to shower.

                “Your kind’s women are a lot more attractive than ours.”

                I blushed, “Anya is gorgeous.”

                The man scoffed, “Next you’ll be telling me to bring flowers to Dani. She’d rip my head off.”

                I narrowed my eyes, “You’re not so bad yourself.”

                The man had a dark blonde hair, but the sides were shaven and he had it pulled back into a long braid, some dreadlocks were tangled within as well. His facial hair was the same colour, and quite long. However it was his piercing blue eyes that seemed to be looking right through me as if I were transparent that really captivated me.

                “What’s going to happen to me?” I asked him then.

                He raised his eyebrows in question, “That isn’t my call.”

                “Surely you have some idea… After seeing what you have done to my friend…”

                The man howled, “You exiled him, he is ours. We captured you; we can use you as a bargaining chip, but not if you are bloody and bruised.”

                “Yeah, well, I’ve been bloody because of you.” I meant ‘you’ plural, of course, not putting the blame of my ankle on him in particular.

                “Chances are, we’ll keep you.” He explained, “I can’t see the rest of you making it…”

                I gaped at him, “What… Why?”

                “Anya isn’t much of a negotiator.”

                “I won’t let them die.” I said, feeling antsy.

                “Not much you can do, Kiddo.” He rose to his feet and turned on his booted heel, striding off into the dense forest.

                I rose quickly, rushing after him. His strides had taken him into the darkness of the woods. When I reached him, he turned and frowned.

                “I’m tryin’a piss here.” He grumbled.

                “You have to stop her from hurting them.”

                “Why should I?” He asked, lacing his pants once again.

                He turned and faced me, towering over me by nearly a foot. Intimidation crept into my veins, making me feel small and weak beneath his gaze. However, I had too much back at my camp; it was not something I was going to drop just because I couldn’t do much in the moment.

                “Please…” I begged, though I didn’t even know his name or anything about him. He was a Grounder, and had no reason to help me.

                He glanced around, looking side to side to ensure that no one was around. “Fine. If you get caught again though, don’t count on me. I’ll be the one cutting out your tongue so you don’t rat on me.”

                I nodded; that was fair enough in my opinion. If I was dumb enough to be brought back here, well, they’d probably kill me before he had a chance to even cut out my tongue.

                “How can we do this?”

                “We are bringing archers to this little meeting; we don’t trust your kind.” He explained, “I’m one of them; on our way back from the bridge, slip out when I signal to you, and run across that bridge as fast as you can. Once you are in the trees, the archers won’t waste arrows and you will be safe for now.”

                I nodded, “And the signal?”

                “I’ll create a distraction, long enough for you to cross the bridge.”           

                I got up on my tippy toes, pressing my hand to his bicep and pressed my lips to his cheek in a friendly gesture, to thank him for what he was doing for me. Perhaps if I made him believe that I saw him like Octavia saw Lincoln, he might be able to sway the rest of the Grounders from slaughtering us. The man looked down at me with his sharp and brilliant eyes, giving me a once over.

                “Back to camp.” He said, “We’ve lingered too long.”

                I turned around and walked briskly back to camp, but he grabbed my shoulder and slowed me down so I didn’t look suspicious. As we entered the ambiance of the dark camp, I spotted Anya, who scanned the crowd, eyes falling on me. She strode over, shoulders back and head high.

                “We are leaving, Bjorn.” She said, and I glanced back at the man who was going to help me escape.

                “I’m ready.” He announced.

                She lowered her eyes to me for a moment, and sighed. Turning on her heels, she strode off; at least ten more men followed behind her, and Bjorn pointed, “Go.”

                I rushed ahead to keep up, feeling Bjorn walking right behind me. I stopped when he did, and he helped me onto the large two headed horse; another Grounder was horsed as well. As we trotted alongside the others, Anya on her horse just ahead of us, Bjorn let his hand slide from the reigns and onto my thigh. His large hand, though gloved, was warm on my body, and I felt heat radiating from my cheeks as I blushed; he was much older than me, and he was the enemy (so to speak).

                When I didn’t push his hand away, I wondered why I was allowing this to happen. Was it because I thought he would change his mind? If I offended him by not wanting his hands on me, he might decide it wasn’t worth risking his life to free me. Or was it longing for someone to put their hands on me again? I hadn’t seen or felt Bellamy’s breath on my neck in days, and Lincoln had explained how they were safe at camp, meaning they were not searching for me. I shut my eyes tightly, gritting my teeth as I held back a few curse words.

                I was a free woman; I could be attracted to someone else as I knew Bellamy was to other women. Right?

So, hinting at some potential interaction with a Grounder (my own character). Only got a few replies about this particular addition to the story, still curious to what you guys want to see! Comment and message please! On the side is Bjorn (Travis Fimmel who plays Ragnar Lothbrok in Vikings).