A/N: This is the first story I've written in years, and is the first time I have written "adult" scenes, ever. This was not beta read, so I apologize for any errors I may have missed. That being said, I hope that you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it. Thank you, and if you like what you read please review! They make me happy. They might even motivate me to write more! Now, on with the story.

Heal, My Healer.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

The bridge was supposed to be empty. No one was meant to be hurt. She only wanted to keep them away, to keep her people safe. Safe... But things never went the way they should. The people of the Ark should have known their danger, should have been allowed the chance to work for a solution, together. Instead her father was Cycled and she was imprisoned, with only her mind and charcoal for company. She should have spent her birthday breathing space, instead she was with near strangers on an alien and hostile world. They should have been the only ones, the first humans to walk the Earth for a hundred years. But they weren't. The bracelets had come off, the radio had been broken, the rockets were too late and a village had been destroyed.

The bridge should have been empty...

The girl on the table proves that it wasn't. Her youth deepened the blow. She looked no older than Charlotte. Charlotte... Another failure reminding her that should will rarely be. Her blood was poisoning her. Even as Finn worked frantically to help her make the tools to save the young girls life, she knew in her heart, mind, gut, that it wasn't going to be enough. It was never enough. She forced herself to focus on the now, to wait for her chance. But it was all so hopeless...

"You're from her Tribe, you're the best match!" She pleads. Withdraw. Mistrust. Anya's refusal prompts Finn's acceptance. He turns, arm extended, waiting, wanting... Too late.

Too late. Too late. Too late.

Tell the people on the Ark of the danger.

Too late...

Send the signal that Earth is survivable.

Too late...

Make the equipment to save Tris' life.

Too late.

"Take him!" An order, voice hoarse with grief, shoulders set with the resolve to do what must be done. Slaughter. The mass execution of eighty-nine strangers that had become so much more. Friends. Family. Her people. All soon to be dead, except for her. But only if she failed to get to them first. Only one guard. It was a desperate plan, but if it worked and she ran... Maybe, just maybe they'd have a chance. The blade gleamed...

"Those marks on her shoulder, what do they mean?" Distraction. He seemed sympathetic. Get his guard down, wait for the chance.

"They represent our kills in battle." He says it proudly.

Inwardly she smirks. A warriors pride will be a warriors fall. Outwardly she's horrified. "Five... But she's so young!" She protests. Partially she knows it's what he expects, part of her is mildly surprised that the horror rings true.

"She was brave." He straightens, showing pride in a fellow warrior. A warriors pride...

Clarke takes a cautious step forward.

"How many marks do you have?"

He pulls his armour aside and she walks forward, blade hidden, cautious but relaxed... Like the visitor instead of the surgeon. Or the priest at an execution. She draws near, almost close enough, almost... He glances at her from the corner of his eye, and the sudden surprise in his eyes stays her hand. "You have the Mark!"

Clarke blinks. "Excuse me?"

Eagerly he reaches for her face and in her befuddlement she lets him look. He tilts her head to better show her face in the light. "You do! You do have the Mark! Wait here, only for a moment. Please, please!" He was backing away from her now, heading to the cave entrance that Anya had just left through, that the Grounders had carried Tris through, had dragged Finn... Finn. Her people, her chance. Mutely she nodded, and her guard turned and ran from the cave. She counted to ten, slowly, then took her chance.

She ran. Forest passed her in a blur, twigs lashing her face as she barely saw the branches in time to dodge in the dark. They had blindfolded her, knocked her out cold. They had been careless. They had let her hear which direction to go, had left her with a single guard, foolish in his pride. They had thought her ignorant of her surroundings, but she had been taught well. The materials may have been a century old, but the stars were ageless in their ages, and they gave her her bearings now. The sky was free of clouds and the full moon gave her the light to see. She should make it. She should...

Something tightened around her ankle and suddenly down became up and even as her head hit the ground she was pulled up, up, up... A trip wire. A trap, and she had stepped right into it, trusting the forest floor like a senseless lamb. She should have expected it, they were at war after all. At least this one wasn't fatal. She fought to remain conscious as blood rushed to her head, blinking the tears from her eyes. She had lost the knife, and with it her chance to warn her people.

Orangish blurs approached, accompanied by the sounds of riders on horseback. The blurs stopped right below her, followed by the sound of riders dismounting. Flint struck rock, a fire bloomed, a figure stood by the light of the glow looking up at her. Anya.

The line was cut and she fell, hitting the ground with an audible 'oof' and again whacking her head. Instantly Anya was on her, straddling her waist and binding her wrists, before securing her to a thick metal chain. Hopelessness closed in on Clarke's heart with a vice like grip as Anya smirked down at her trophy, her prize.

Anya frowned slightly and called to a man over her shoulder. "I fail to see what you were so excited about. She looks like a stunned ox to me."

"You're lucky she's only stunned, and not unconscious." The man approached the fire, Clarke recognized him as the guard from earlier. He frowned at her. "You promised to wait."

She had said no such thing, but she smiled slightly as she replied. "Only for a moment."

Anya raised an impatient eyebrow, and the man scowled back. "Oh for glory's sake, stop looking at her and Look at her!"

Anya's look turned sceptical, but she returned her attention to Clarke. Rough hands turned her face to the fire, eyes narrowed, focused on her forehead. A blink, surprise flashed in her eyes as she found what should not have been seen, not on an Outsider anyway. "She has a Mark."

"Yes, the Healers Mark!" The man was downright giddy, Clarke noted with bemusement.

"A Healers Mark." Anya stated, face blank.

The man noticed her lack of enthusiasm, and all but rolled his eyes as he said, slowly, as though he thought Anya was being particularly dense. "And... You have the Mark of Strength..."

Anya's face remained blank. "So...?"

The man actually palmed his face at this point, body language clearly stating that his commander was being an idiot. "So... If we combine your Marks..."

Anya's eyes widened as realization lit her mind. "Tris."

The man clapped his hands. "Exactly! Now let's go!"

Then Anya frowned, a memory was niggling at the edge of her senses. Something about combining Marks... "We can't. She hasn't Awakened yet, her Mark is dormant. And we can't combine the two without a Joiner."

The man gave her a look, saying without words 'you know that you're an idiot, right?' and pointed at his head.

Anya squinted at him, but remained unimpressed as she stated. "You're a Joiner."

"And you're Awake. The Joining will Awaken her. Now hurry up! We've wasted too much time already!" The man was almost shuffling his feet at this point.

Another memory niggled and Anya frowned harshly. "But...!"

"No time for buts! Do you want to save Tris or not?!" The man barked.

Clarke watched this exchange with a growing sense of bemusement. She looked from Anya, to the man, then at Anya again. "Excuse me, but Marks? Joining? What in the stars are you talking about?"

Anya was startled, looking down at Clarke as though she had momentarily forgotten that she was there. Then much to Clarke's surprise, her expression softened. The hands holding her face gentled their grip. "Tell me." Anya said softly. "How far will you go to save your people?"

Suddenly Clarke was aware of her position. The fire burning near bathed Anya's face in it's glow, gleamed in her eyes. The rope binding her wrists. The strength in the thighs straddling her. The hands holding her so gently, yet with a strength ready to kill. She licked her dry lips, then looked in Anya's eyes. "How far would you go to save Tris?"

Anya searched her eyes, looking for what only her and the stars knew, but she nodded, satisfied with this. "Very well."

She grabbed the bindings on Clarke's hands and stood, hauling Clarke to her feet with her. Clarke stumbled in her wake as she was pulled, urgently but not too painfully, over to the horse line. Anya stopped before the tallest beast, the chain holding Clarke clanking to the ground as Anya freed her from it. "Get on."

Clarke looked up at the beast. At the very tall, very intimidating, suddenly very scary looking beast. Its chest was level with her face. She couldn't see over its belly, and that stirrup was awfully high up. "Um."

Anya smirked. "What's the matter? No horses in space?"

Clarke shook her head.

"Then up you go!" Clarke yelped as strong hands grabbed her from behind and lifted her up so she was sitting sidesaddle. The man laughed, but continued to hold her steady as she swung her leg over and frantically grabbed at the main.

Anya chuckled softly and swung up behind her. "Lean on me." She murmured, wrapping one arm around Clarke's waist, reaching for the reigns with the other. Clarke cautiously did as she was told, leaning into Anya, and when the hand at her waist didn't produce a knife, she relaxed just the slightest bit.

Anya then turned her face back to the clearing. "You have new orders. Spread the word that I request the attack to be put on hold until I speak to the High Commander. Barack go to the one who took the boy... If he's still alive, give the order to let him live. Loki." She looked down at the man who had been her guard. "Ride on ahead and return Tris' body to the cave."

He nodded and mounted the last horse, quickly disappearing into the forest. Silently Clarke marvelled at how efficient the Grounder warriors were. Leaving the moment they heard their orders, no bickering or dissent in the ranks. She repressed a pang of envy, then was startled when the animal beneath her began to move far too quickly for her liking. "Woah!"

"Relax." Anya soothed, guiding the horse to even greater speed through the trees.

Branches blurred by. Clarke was certain that she was going to be knocked off the saddle at any moment, but Anya was confident as she guided the animal through the trees, and her arm around Clarke's waist kept her steady. Slowly, Clarke began to relax, the motion below her and the warmth at her back lulling her into a trance like state. She began to enjoy the ride. The horse began to slow its pace and soon Clarke could see the shadow of the cave entrance up ahead. Anya signalled the horse to stop and dismounted. She was halfway to the cave before realizing that she was alone. She stopped, turned, and walked back to Clarke who was still on the horse, blinking dumbly.

"What are you doing?" Anya growled. "Get. Down."

Clarke blinked, looking down at the ground. It looked very far away. "Um."

Anya huffed an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes, looking to the stars for patience. She raised her hands to Clarke. "Well?"

Clarke swung her leg over the horse and held onto the saddle for dear life as she tried to slowly slide down. Her fingers, numb from rope and cold, lost their grip and she half slid, half fell, into Anya's waiting arms. The arm held her, steadied her, and continued to hold her shaking form until she was steady on her feet. "Thank you." Clarke said softly.

"Let's go." Anya said, taking her elbow and guiding her to the cave.

Upon entering, Clarke felt the scene all too familiar. The girl-Tris-was laid on the table, eyes closed as one who rested peacefully. Finn was curled in the corner. His wrists were bound like hers, and while he was unconscious his deep breaths assured Clarke that he was alive.

Anya took a deep breath, then turned to face Clarke fully. "Every person is born with a Mark, one that is similar to others yet is uniquely their own. These Marks are very... Personal. And powerful, in their own way. Each are used to the benefit of both their bearers, and to the tribe as a whole. Marks can also be combined, to compliment and support each other."

Anya reached out her hand and gently touched Clarke's forehead, tracing a design that Clarke had never seen. "You were born with the Healers Mark, but because of your location you never Awakened. It's why it went unnoticed for so long... If you were Awake it'd have glowed..."

Clarke wrinkled her brow. "You lost me. Awakened? Glowed? What do you mean?"

Anya lowered her hand. "When we're born, our Marks are dim, barely a glimmer, like yours. When we grow into maturity, our Marks flare up and Awaken us, and we become able to use their power. They also become much more visible."

Clarke frowned. "So what does this... Mark you say I have, have to do with Tris?"

Anya looked over at the girl. "You have the Healers Mark. I have the Mark of Strength. Loki thinks that if he combines our Marks, it may be enough to bring her back."

Clarke gasped. "The Marks are really that powerful?"

Anya looked at Clarke with a steady gaze. "They can be, but usually no. They mostly provide a boost of a natural ability. Mine, for example, boosts my strength in whichever way I tell it to. A painter with a Mark of Creation, may use his Mark to boost his creativity, or motivate him to get a project done. Tris had a Mark of Multiplying, which she used to boost her abilities ten fold. Loki has a Mark of Joining, he has the ability to merge Marks together, but he mostly uses it to manipulate those around him. A foe in battle, for example, may become reluctant to attack him if he uses his Mark to make his opponent feel connected to him."

Anya rested her hand on Clarke's shoulder. "In your case, you have a Mark of Healing. When Activated, you may find yourself able to Heal without touching, or able to sense ones spiritual or mental hurts and intuitively have the knowledge to Heal those wounds instead. You may only be able to Heal yourself, or just better be able to access medical knowledge you would have otherwise forgotten. We really won't know until after you Awaken."

"But when we do Join, and you Awaken, if your Mark is of the right Healing type, our Marks combined might just be enough to bring her back, especially if Tris' Multiplier works to give us a hand. My Mark will strengthen your Healing, and in turn, your Mark will heal my wounds."

Anya lowered her hand and glanced to the side. "There are... Consequences, to Joining Marks like this though. A price must be paid by the Bearers, and it's the Marks that choose the cost." She made eye contact again. "It's... Possible, that we could be Bound for life. Connected in a way that cannot be severed. It's possible that the Marks will reject each other, and that our lives be lost in the backlash. It's possible that nothing will happen. We won't know until we try."

Clarke considered this. Being connected to Anya permanently was not appealing, though death didn't sound much better. She bit her lip in thought. "If I agree, and we do this... If it works, what then?"

"If we die, the attack will happen and your people will die. If you refuse, you will be my slave and the rest of your people will die. Same if it fails. If it works, it doesn't matter if the Bond fades, you will be mine, but your people will be allowed to leave." She smirked. "I'll even be generous and have them be guided to an abandoned village on the outskirts of our territory that they can make their home. They'll be on their own in a fight though. They are not our people, our hospitality ends there."

Clarke's heart sank. Phrased that way, she didn't have a choice at all. She closed her eyes, a prisoner accepting her fate. "Very well."

Her bindings were cut and she began to rub the ache from her wrists. Anya led her over to Tris' still form, positioning them so that Tris lay between them. She took Clarke's hands and held them, fingers woven with her own, over Tris's heart. Then she glanced over at Loki and nodded for him to begin.

He stood at Tris' head. At Anya's signal, he reached out to their foreheads and traced the Marks Clarke still couldn't see, a look of intense concentration crossing his face. He was chanting too softly for Clarke to make out the words, but a tingling warmth began to follow in the wake of his fingertip. He traced their Marks three time, the warmth intensifying with each repetition until it burned. Clarke instinctively tried to jerk away and cried out, but Anya held fast. The finger moved, circling her burning Mark and trailing down the side of her face, her neck, her shoulder, down her arm to where hers and Anya's hands were joined.

Fire followed and spread until she felt that she was going to die from the pain. She fought the hands holding her, struggled to get away. A scream ripped through her and she thrashed, twisted, begged for it all to just Stop. Then the fire Strengthened, and her and the fire were One. Fire was the blood in her veins, the air she breathed, the tears she cried. She looked down at the still form below her, and instantly, she knew. She knew her Mark, and she knew exactly what to do. Fire built within her and spread without, flowing with her Will into the girl. Fire forced the still heart to beat, the injured lungs to breathe.

She willed the Healing Fire to burn the infection away, and repair the damage left by the blast on her body and her mind by death. The girls own Mark blazed to life, and for the first time Clarke could see the Marks Anya had told her of. The Multiplier Mark glowed softly, the light of a candle in midday, a simple X within a spiral, and Clarke could feel it working with her Fire in the girls body. Everywhere the Fire went, the Multiplier followed, multiplying the speed Tris' body healed tenfold.

It was exhausting. It was exhilarating. It lasted an eternity and was over in minutes. The Fire withdrew, shrank within her to Embers, then Coal. Content to be dormant until she summoned it again.

She blinked, coming back to herself as Tris took in a gasping breath, Healed and breathing on her own. Then pain and exhaustion hit her in a wave and she staggered back, Anya finally letting her go. She felt herself begin to fall, and her eyes closed of their own accord.

"Easy there." Strong arms caught her, held her, and she cried out as pain flared where they touched.

"Let her go!" A voice. Anya's voice. Instinct compelled her to turn towards her voice, to seek her out. Everything would be ok if she could just get to the source of that wonderful voice. Strong arms released her and she was falling again, only to be caught by arms of a different strength. Warmth, soothing, comforting, warmth, caught her, held her, holding the pain at bay. She sobbed from the relief, clung to the one who delivered it, burrowed her face into the shoulder of her deliverer. "Easy... Easy..." Anya soothed, holding her close. Gentle hands stroked her head, rubbed circles on her back. "Easy..."

A murmured conversation began over Clarke's head, but she had no desire to follow it. All that mattered was that the pain was... Not gone, she knew, but taken. Shared. The warmth she felt was also shared, Anya's Mark was Strengthening her through their Bond. The exhaustion was there, waiting, ready to come in like the tide and wash her away, but Anya's Strength kept her anchored. She drifted, content to be in a place where she was only dimly aware, in the arms that made her feel safe.

Soft strength lifted her, carried her, out of the caves stillness into cool moving air. A murmured command was spoken, and Clarke sensed a large body lowering itself. She was placed on it, and Anya murmured another command. The body stood and, as Anya mounted behind Clarke, Clarke realized that the body she sensed was Anya's horse. "Why didn't you do that in the first place?" She whispered.

Anya scoffed and bid the horse to walk. "You could have done it yourself back then."

Back then. How long had it been? It felt years away. "Things are different now. You feel it too, don't you?"

Anya's arm tightened on her waist. "The Bond is permanent. We knew going into this that that was a possibility. It changes nothing."

They rode in silence after that. Clarke curled into Anya's warmth, craving the contact. And she drifted. She drifted through the trees and trusted to Anya's control. She opened her eyes when the horse stopped. It was twilight, dawn was approaching. "My people?" She asked.

"Are safe." Anya assured. "The High Commander was once my second. She will honour my request."

Clarke nodded and looked around. They were sat at the base of a giant camphor tree. "Where are we?"

"You'll see." Anya smirked, then gentled her expression. "Do you think you can walk now?"

The rest had revived her somewhat. She felt hollow, but exhaustion no longer threatened to overwhelm her, and while the pain was no longer being shared, it had faded to a manageable ache. She tentatively nodded.

Anya dismounted and held her arms up to Clarke. "Don't try to do it on your own. Slide to me, my Strength is yours."

Clarke nodded and cautiously slid down the horse towards Anya. Anya caught her waist, and Clarke wrapped her arms around her as she was lowered to the ground. Her legs buckled beneath her. Anya moved so that Clarke's arm was around her shoulders and wrapped her own around Clarke's waist.

"Don't worry, it's not far. Are you ready?" She asked, the gentle expression never leaving her face.

Clarke nodded and together they walked toward the tree. Anya led her to the base and pressed a knot in the wood. Clarke heard a faint click, and blinked as part of the tree before them sunk into itself, then rolled aside. Anya then removed a piece of bark from above the entrance. "This signals my people that the person inside desires privacy." She told her, leading Clarke through the entrance. She pressed the same knot again and the door slid back into place with a muffled thud.

Clarke looked around. The tree was hollow, but its moss covered walls glowed with a faint light. Fireflies floated by, lighting their paths like shooting stars overhead. "What is this place?"

"A hot spring." Anya replied, leading Clarke over to a small pool, steaming enticingly.

Clarke moaned longingly. Water on the Ark had been strictly regulated, none of it was wasted. Even on the ground she had had to limit herself to quick, cold, washes, lest a Grounder attack while she was bathing. A soak in a hot spring sounded like heaven.

Anya staggered a little as Clarke lunged forward, eager to get in clothes and all, but stopped her with a gentle, but strong, hand on her shoulder. "Not yet. You need to eat or you'll pass out mid-swim."

Clarke pouted but allowed herself to be turned away from the blessedly hot water. Anya led her over to edge of the hollow. She knelt over and Clarke heard a few clicks before she straightened, satisfied, a candle in her hand glowing between them. With the added light Clarke saw that a bench had been made to grow into the tree, a cushion placed invitingly on top it. Anya motioned for Clarke to sit, then walked around the hollow lighting more candles placed in scones around the edge of it.

Clarke watched her, and took in her surroundings. The hot spring was centric, surrounded by a circle of flat grey stones. The bench she was on was to the right of the entrance, and with the increased light she could make out cupboard spaces grown into the hollow around it, and two flat spaces on either side of it served as tables. Across from her a curtain of gauzy netting hung from a chain suspended above. A bed, Clarke guessed.

Anya reached into one of the hollows above Clarke's head and handed her a package wrapped in cheesecloth and a flask. "Eat. I need to care for my horse. I won't be long." She left through the same way they had come.

Clarke regarded the cheesecloth in her hand. The thought of food was nauseating. She knew though, from long nights helping her mother on the Ark that hunger was funny like that though, so she unwrapped the package. Cheese, some kind of hard bread with nuts, and a bar of something wrapped in a waxed cloth. Again her stomach rebelled. She put the food aside and opened the flask instead. Cool liquid splashed within and she took a cautious sip. Cool, fruity, liquid slid down her throat and suddenly she was aware of just how thirsty she was. She gulped greedily, draining half the flask before coming back to herself. The food was much more palatable after that. The cheese was dry and crumbled into her lap with every bite, but its mild flavour complimented the nut bread perfectly. The waxed cloth came off next, revealing a bar made from pressed oats, nuts, dried fruit, and honey. Clarke moaned in ecstasy for the sweet treat, her body craving the sugar.

Anya came in as Clarke was licking the last bits of honey from her fingertips, eyes closed in childlike bliss. "Feeling better?"

"Much." Clarke said around her finger, removing it from her mouth with an audible pop. She looked up at Anya pleadingly. "Bath? Please?"

Anya rolled her eyes playfully. "Yes, yes. You may have your bath now, Princess."

Anya offered her hand and pulled Clarke to her feet. They walked over to the water together. Clarke was strong enough to walk on her own now, but Anya stayed by her side ready to catch her if she fell. Clarke again started to go in fully clothed, and was again stopped by Anya's hand on her shoulder. She blushed when Anya gave her The Look.

"Clothing." Anya prompted.

Clarke apologized sheepishly and began to disrobe, trying not to look as Anya did the same beside her. Apparently Grounders were accustomed to bathing together. Anya was much faster than her. Clarke had been studiously not looking, so she wasn't sure if Anya was completely naked or only mostly naked when she walked back to the bench and passed her. Clarke stood there in her underclothes for a moment, unsure of what to do, before hesitantly stepping towards the spring.

"All your clothes!" Anya called over her shoulder, pulling another flask and wrapped package from the cupboard over the bench.

Clarke yelped, jumped, quickly shed the rest of her clothes and slid into the water. Rocks had been shaped into chairs and lined the pool at different heights, the bottom was covered in sand. Clarke went from one seat to the next, finally settling on one where the water covered her shoulders. She was far from shy, but co-bathing was not something she was used to. She did not look up as Anya slid into the pool next to her, having finished her meal, until the gentle hand on her shoulder startled her. She looked up into Anya's face.

"Why?" She asked, shoving everything she didn't know in the question.

Anya smiled softly, then reached past her, ignoring the question. She lifted one of the flat rocks and lifted several vials, a stone, and a cloth bag from the hollow space it had concealed. She pointed at three vials. "These are for hair, chose the scent you like and use it." She pointed at a taller, wider, vial. "This is soap root. Pour it into the bag and tie it shut. Wet the bag, then crush it with the stone until the roots release a lather." She instructed. She then left, going to the opposite side of the pool.

Clarke watched as she lifted more vials from another hollow, and once she was certain that her back was going to stay turned, turned to her own vials. Clean hair sounded heavenly, but years of upbringing had her turn to the soap root first. She filled the bag as she had been told and quickly had a lather going. She chanced a quick glimpse over her shoulder, and seeing that Anya's back was still turned, climbed out of the pool. Quickly she scrubbed herself raw from her head to her toes, then slipped back in to rinse off, sighing her content.

She looked at the three remaining vials and smelled their contents. Sage, Lavender, and Sandal Wood. She selected the lavender one and dunked her head, wetting her hair. She then poured a generous portion into her hand and ran it through her hair. Her scalp tingled as she had her first proper wash in weeks. As she rinsed that out as well Anya called over to her, telling her that there was a cloth in the hollow that she could use to scrub her teeth if she wanted to, and she did. The cloth was rough and had been infused with peppermint oil, the minty flavour filled her mouth as she scrubbed.

Clean and refreshed, she dared to look over at Anya again. She was sitting on the ledge, scrubbing her arm. Sensing Clarke's gaze, she looked up and Clarke hastily looked down, blushing fiercely. She heard Anya sigh, then felt the water move as she slipped in again. The sent of sage wafted over to her, mixed with the lavender from earlier. Again the hand came, resting on her shoulder. Clarke blushed harder and refused to look up. "Why?" She asked again. Being a prisoner, a... Slave, she had expected... Well, she hadn't known what to expect. But it wasn't this.

Anya sighed softly, then lifted Clarke's chin until she was looking at her face. Gently... Always so gently... She waited until Clarke made eye contact, then spoke, choosing her words with care. "This Bond between us, you realize that it's permanent, right?"

Clarke nodded.

"Each Joining is a mixed blessing. There are many benefits to each of the Bound, but there are consequences too. For you, all touch other than mine will result in pain. The longer the touch, the greater the pain."

Clarke licked her lips. "What about you? What consequence must you bear?"

Anya's hand moved from her chin to cup her cheek. "You are."

Clarke didn't understand. "Me?"

Anya's thumb moved, stroking her cheek gently. "You. I need you. Your touch, your presence... You. When I left to care for Spirit, my thoughts were clouded. My head didn't clear until I came back, and I saw you. You're my clarity now. Where you go, my heart follows."

Clarke bit her lip. "So you need me nearby, to remain clearheaded?"

Anya nodded.

"And my touch? Why do you need that?" Clarke prompted.

"The longer we touch, the farther apart I think we can be." Anya replied.

"But only for a short time." Clarke sighed, their Bond thrumming with the truth. She tilted her head, leaning her cheek into Anya's hand. "I crave this." She confessed, daring to raise her hand to Anya's face. "I crave you. Every time I see you I want to touch, and every touch... It isn't enough. I want more. I don't understand it, but I do."

"It's the Bond." Anya said. "The Bond is one, and it demands that we be one with it."

Clarke stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Anya's waist. Anya gasped, lowering her arms to her sides as Clarke pressed their naked bodies together. "This scares me." She confessed, nuzzling Anya's neck, just below her ear. "You scare me." She continued, licking Anya's earlobe, eliciting another gasp from the surprised woman. "But I am so sick of fighting. And this... This... Bond be damned longing, is stronger than I can bear. I want you... No, I crave you so much that it hurts. Let me be the fire that melts your ice. Be my oasis in the desert that quenches my thirst." She raised her hands to Anya's face and kissed her fiercely, taking advantage of Anya's surprise to deepen the kiss.

The Bond roared, demanding more, and Clarke pulled Anya more tightly to herself in response. She plundered Anya's mouth, stroked and caressed her tongue with a passionate need far more intense that what she had felt with Finn. Her fingers tangled into Anya's hair and she yanked Anya's head back, breaking the kiss to nip along her jaw. She nipped and sucked at Anya's earlobe, kissed and suckled at her neck.

Anya was losing herself. She was using her Mark to hold herself back, but it was hard, oh so hard not to give in. She was gasping, Clarke's hands and deliciously talented mouth were driving her to the brink of sanity. The Bond raged at her, demanding her body to move, to claim the blonde as her own. Not yet. She clung to the thought with all her strength. Not. Yet. She raised her hands and with as much will as she could muster, pushed Clarke away. "Wait!" She demanded.

Clarke looked at her, eyes darkened to a stormy grey with her passion. "What? I Felt it, I know you feel it too."

"I do." Anya admitted. "I do. But this, this isn't real. It's the Bond."

"I don't care." Clarke growled.

"Don't you?" Anya challenged. "You are my slave, Clarke of the Sky People. The Bond compels us to be one, but it's been doing more than that. Everything that's happened, my gentleness, your compliance, all of it has been from the Bond. It manipulates us, it wants to be one. After that happens, all of that will change. I will not have to be gentle with you anymore, and you will not merely submit. You will rebel against me, your station will begin to chafe. And I... I will be cruel. I will beat obedience into you, because as a leader it is what I have to do. I will become impatient, angry, I might even come close to killing you. Do you really want all of that?!" She was angry now, fist clenched. But even still she wanted Clarke to say yes, to submit, to come forward again and allow them to be one. Damn the Bond.

That broke through Clarke's frustration. She looked to the side, shoulders slumping as the reality of her situation finally settled in. "Damn." She said softly. The Bond was still there, compelling her to be close, but she fought it now. But it was so strong... Too strong to fight for long. She looked up at Anya, letting her helplessness show.

Anya understood. She could fight the Bond because the Mark of Strength was her own, but Clarke... Her Mark was of the Healer, what strength she had was borrowed. It was enough for now, but it wouldn't last for long, and Anya doubted that she could stop it again if Clarke lost control. When Clarke lost control, she amended.

"Can we pretend?" Clarke asked in a broken voice. "Can we pretend that the Bond isn't there, just this once? Can we pretend that this is real? I'm... I'm not strong, but I won't break easily. I will survive. And you... You're a warrior, a leader, you're not a killer. Only..." Clarke broke off, fear cutting her off. "...nevermind." She breathed.

Anya reached out and again lifted Clarke's chin, forcing her to make eye contact. "Only what?"

"...Can we pretend more than once? When it's just us? Can you be gentle then? Can I... Can I pretend that I'm free?" Fear and hope shone in her eyes.

Anya considered this. Clarke was a natural leader, had been raised to be able to walk into chaos and create order. She had been taught from an early age to fight against the toughest of foes, death itself. Slavery would not come easily to her. But being a leader, they would rarely be alone. "I cannot do as you ask. Here, now, yes I can. But later... I am rarely alone Clarke of the Sky People, and even when I am, there are always others near." She tried to keep her tone gentle, and for a moment felt some true pity for the girl as the hope faded from her eyes.

"...oh." Clarke said. She refused to cry, but the despair was beginning to overwhelm her, and the Bonds desire was still there, waiting for her to break.

Anya sighed softly, and braced herself against the desire as she pulled the shaking girl to her chest. "I can't promise that we'll be free to pretend very often, but I can give you this. I can give you this place. We won't be able to come very often. But here, when we're here, you can be free, and I... I will try to be gentle." She stroked the girl-woman's head, suddenly aware of how young she was, how much she had been made to grow in the short time she had been on the Earth. How vulnerable she was under a disguise of strength. And resolved to make another promise. "And I can give you this. At night, no matter how the day goes, you will be under order to share my bed. That will be your sanctuary. My Strength will be yours when we're there. You will not be free, but you will not have to bear the burden alone."

Clarke took in a shaky breath, a forbidden tear slipping from her eyes even as the Bonds desire began to overwhelm her despair. "I can live with that."

Anya pulled back a little, turning Clarke's head, gently brushing the tears away with her fingertips. "Can you?"

This time it was Clarke to initiate eye contact. "How much of this is you, and not the Bond?"

Anya stroked her cheek. "I'm all here." A whispered promise, eyes radiating truth. Pity was there, yes, but also kindness.

Suddenly Clarke wanted that kindness, wanted it as strongly as the Bond wanted to make them be one. It had been so long since anyone had been kind. There had been Finn, once. But then Finn had had Raven and his kindness had become a two-edged blade. She turned her head and gently kissed Anya's palm. "Then I can live with that." She said, voice just as soft.

Anya smiled her approval, and her acceptance. "Good. Of course, this is going to complicate things with your lover. That is going to have to end. You won't be able to stand the touch of another, and I... I find myself most unwilling to share."

"Raven is Finn's lover." Clarke said bitterly. Then her expression softened. "And I no longer want his touch. Only yours." She paused, a different possibly occurring to her. She tilted her head a little to the side. "And you? Do you have a lover?"

"Only you." Anya tilted her head forward then, and captured Clarke's lips in a gentle, achingly slow kiss. Then she pulled away to look into Clarke's eyes, already darkening with her passion. "Stay with me. Don't let the Bond take you away."

"...okay." Spoken in a whisper.

The Bond sang its joy even as it allowed itself to be pushed away, knowing that it had won for now. Soon the ones tied within it would be one, the circle would be complete. No... Not complete. The Bond sensed a gap where there should be another, one who would be the Balance its Bonded lacked. Its Bonded were both leaders, strong-willed, and stubborn. One determined to enslave, the other a prisoner desperate to be free. The third, it knew, was also a leader. Her even temper and equally strong will would set the others right. That would come later though. For now, it would be One.

Anya leaned in and kissed Clarke again, sliding her hand along her jaw, tangling into her hair. Clarke wound her arms around Anya's shoulders and Anya trailed her hands down her back, sending delicious tremors throughout Clarke's body. Anya leaned farther, deepening the kiss and forcing Clarke to step back. Clarke's legs bumped into the edge of one of the carved stones and she sat, taking Anya with her. Kiss unbroken, Anya followed Clarke down and straddled her lap, lifting her breasts from the water.

Clarke tangled her hand into the hair at the back of Anya's head, pulling her back and breaking the kiss. Her breath was shallow as she gazed up at the warrior over her. "You're beautiful." She breathed. She leaned up and nuzzled at Anya's neck, licked her way to that sensitive spot behind and slightly below her ear. Anya shuddered as she found the spot, and lightly ran her nails along her spine.

"Clarke." Anya gasped, hands spasming on Clarke's shoulders as clever tongue and light fingers teased and pleasured her body.

"Hush... Let me." Clarke bit Anya's neck then licked the sensitive flesh. She brushed her lips along the collar bone and kissed her way to a breast. She sucked at the hardened nipple, teased the flesh between her teeth, and raised her hand to knead the other. Anya moaned as Clarke tasted and played, digging her fingers into the younger girls back in time with every bite and twist Clarke gave.

Anya finally grabbed hold of Clarke's hair, pulling her away from her breast and forcing her head back for another bruising kiss. Clarke retaliated by releasing Anya's breast and reaching down, under the water. She thumbed the sensitive nub and slid two of her fingers up, inside. Anya moaned into the kiss, and as Clarke bent her fingers and started to thrust, Anya broke the kiss, throwing her head back. "Oh goddess! Ah! Ahh... D-don't stop, oh, ohh..."

Clarke grinned and leaned forward, grabbing a nipple between her teeth and biting down, digging her fingers into the bundle of nerves and stroking them at the same time.

"Ah!" Anya cried out, thrashing her head and thrusting her hips.

Clarke released the abused treat in favour of watching Anya as she rode her hand, face alight in rapture. She rolled her thumb and increased her pace, knowing that Anya was getting close. She kissed her breasts, her ribs, every part of skin she could taste. She could feel it coming, the walls of flesh shuddering and tightening around her fingers. She gave a final twist, and as she twisted Anya arched her back and screamed, her ecstasy ripping through her.

Anya gasped for breath as she rode it out, Clarke's fingers creating waves of pleasure within her. As the waves became ripples, she lowered her head to rest on Clarke's shoulder, the girls fingers slicking past her nub as they withdrew. Clarke held her as she shuddered in the afterglow, alternating between stroking her head and rubbing circles on her back. "Goddess..." Anya breathed, shaking in Clarke's arms as she looked up at her Healer.

Clarke laughed a little. "Liked that did you?" She asked smugly.

Anya narrowed her eyes. "My turn." She said, smirking as Clarke lost her smug look. She reached down and lifted Clarke out of the water, resting her on the pools edge. Clarke gasped as cool air enveloped her, steam rising from her naked flesh as Anya nibbled at her lower lip, releasing it with a quick kiss. She kissed her way down Clarke's body, stopping to hover over a pink nipple, only to give Clarke a mischievous look as she blew on it gently and continued down. She kissed around the navel and felt a smug satisfaction when she felt Clarke tense as she approached her entrance.

"Anya..." A whispered breath. Clarke leaned back on her forearms and watched as Anya parted her thighs, giving each a small kiss and a gentle caress. Clarke's breath caught as Anya blew over her nub, then was released in an almost sigh when the breath was followed by a rough lick. Rough fingers entered her, confidently finding that sweet bundle of nerves within. They pressed hard as they stroked her into a frenzy. She thrashed, she thrusted, her back arched of its own accord as fingers and tongue brought her to heights of passion she had never known.

Anya followed the wild movements flawlessly, instinctively knowing through the Bond and their shared Marks which way Clarke was going to move and adjusting her position accordingly. With every buck she was ready to lick harder, every twist her fingers were there, pressing into the nerves and bringing Clarke higher, closer to the edge of her endurance. Clarke twisted again, and with a final buck she screamed, back arching as waves of pleasure broke through her. Anya withdrew her fingers and rose from the pool, sliding out of the water to lay beside her. She watched as the orgasm shook Clarke to her core, gently running her hand over her body, her face, until at last her shaking stopped.

Clarke opened her eyes. "Wow."

Anya smirked. "Liked that did you?"

Clarke's response was immediate, an intense kiss that lit a fire in Anya's belly. She pulled back, barely an inch of space hovering between their lips as, voice husky and filled with passion, she replied. "Does that answer your question?"

Anya raised her hand to caress Clarke's cheek. "You're beautiful. And you're strong. You don't see it but you are. You fight, so hard to save life and press on even as your heart breaks. Though it's true that the Bond was manipulating me earlier, compelling me to be gentle, I have always been drawn to you, have watched you almost since the day you landed. I saw you fight to save a friend you hardly knew, saw your grief over the ones you couldn't save. When I told you that your rockets had burned a village to the ground, the pain in your eyes was true, and you showed real grief when you learned that my people were on the bridge. Then after, even knowing that I fully intended to keep you alive, you threw that away so you could warn your people. You're beautiful to me. And that has nothing to do with the Bond."

Clarke leaned into the caress. "...I wanted you back then, too. When we met on the bridge. You were so strong, so completely in control. Compared to you I was a mess. I wanted so badly for you to take the lead, to be my mentor. I felt that if I could even have a fraction of your strength, everything would be ok. And you were gorgeous, so gorgeous... When you refused my hand, I felt the rejection down to my core. It made me want to become stronger... Strong enough to have you. Even before the Bond, something for you was there."

Anya looked into her eyes for a moment, then bent her head to return the kiss. Fire pooled in her belly and she willed for it to spread, to warm Clarke as it consumed her. They made love again, slowly, tenderly, worshipping each others bodies and being worshiped in turn. Anya stood, pulling Clarke up with her and led her over to the curtained bed. "We should rest for now. The High Commander will be here by high noon. She will want an explanation."

"What will you say to her?" Clarke asked, worried for both her People and the warrior woman in her arms.

"The truth." Anya said simply, making herself comfortable. She lay on her side and pulled Clarke close, spooning her. "Tris is training to be her shield sister. When she learns the price you paid to save her, she will be more inclined to mercy."

"And if she isn't?" Clarke asked.

"She will be." Anya assured. "She bears the Mark of Reason. It's why she was Called to lead our people."

"What's she like?"

"Reasonable." Anya quipped. "Now sleep."

Clarke turned to look at Anya, raising her hand to brush her fingers over her Mark. "A heart?" Clarke asked, laughing bubbling in her voice.

"It's two lightning bolts." Anya muttered.

"Looks like a heart to me." Clarke teased.

Anya pouted a little, wrapping her arm around Clarke's waist. "Sleep."

"What does mine look like?" Clarke asked, ignoring the order.

Anya sighed and opened one eye to squint at Clarke's head. "A snake wrapped around a staff. The snake is facing opposite the head of the staff. You could say it looks like a heart." She closed her eye. "Sleep."

Clarke stuck out her tongue, but snuggled into Anya's embrace to do as she asked.

She slept. And as she slept, she dreamed. She dreamed that she was missing. She was here, yet not, even though she was right where she should be she still needed to be found. She searched for herself, reaching yet not, searching but without moving. She was here, and she was not. She turned and She was there, Anya. She stood, connected to herself, but searching as well.

Anya saw her, and turned to face her. "It's the Bond." She said. "Something's wrong. Someone is missing."

"But we're both right here." Clarke puzzled, even as she felt her heart echo the truth.

"We are not Balanced. The Bond seeks a third to be our Balance." Another echo.

"But who?"

"I don't know." Anya turned, surveying the dreamscape around them.

Clarke turned too. A desert of grey sand surrounded them, twinkling like the stars. Grey clouds sped by overhead, though she could feel no wind. "How will we know?"

"The Bond will know."

Clarke swallowed. "And if we can't find her?" Her. The word echoed with truth. "Or if we do, and she refuses to Join?"

A strong wind howled past them, twisting the clouds into funnels and sucking up the sand around them, though nothing touched them.

Anya watched the storm, sensing no threat and feeling no fear. "Madness, I suspect. We will need to find her, and soon, or the Bond will tear us apart trying to seek her out."

Clarke also turned to watch the storm. Twisters had formed all around them, but still she felt no wind. Again she asked. "And if she refuses to Join?"

Anya's fist clenched. "The Bond will not choose someone who is unwilling. Trust in the Bond."

Clarke was afraid, but she tried not to let it show. "If you say so."

Anya, sensing her fear through the Bond, reached out and took her hand. "If you can't trust in the Bond, trust in me. My strength will keep the madness at bay."

Clarke turned to Anya and stepped into an embrace, the silver sand falling around them as their kiss calmed the storm. The desert faded around them, the sky darkening to black as the Bond turned them over to true sleep, content that its message had been delivered.

Clarke awoke to gentle fingers caressing her face and the song of the Bond. She knew, instantly on an instinctive level, that the hand was not Anya's, yet she felt no pain. It felt right. She opened her eyes and looked up at the stranger. A slender woman, high-browed face framed by brown hair, blue eyes framed by a mask of kohl. Her Mark, an hour glass trailing two arcs of sand, glowed faintly between two horns of kohl on her head. She was beautiful. Clarke shuddered as she fought to remain still, the Bonds desire to touch overwhelming her. She gasped.

The fingers stilled, but the woman did not remove them as she regarded Clarke. "So you're the one, who keeps undoing all of my former mentors plans."

"And you're the one who commanded her to make them." Clarke guessed.

"I am." She acknowledged. "I am also the one who holds your sanity in the palm of my hand."

Clarke closed her eyes, finally giving into the Bonds demands, just a little, just enough to lean into that feather light touch. "How did you know?" She asked, unable to deny it. How could she deny when she was shaking with the need to touch?

"Anya met us outside, and Loki was with me. You actually have more restraint than she did. She kissed me."

"She knows you. I don't. I am not in the habit of kissing people I do not know... Much as I would like to, in this case."

The quirked lip and sudden twinkle in the High Commanders eyes showed her amusement. "Oh? And here I thought it was the dagger I have at your throat."

Clarke hadn't been aware of that. The touch, gentle as it had been, had been enough to distract her from it. Damn the Bond. "Well, there is that."

The fingers moved then, ghosting across her face, her eyes, her lips. She gasped at the sensation and almost raised her head, remembering the dagger just fast enough to avoid getting nicked. Instead she curled her toes and dug her nails into her palm, damning the Bond and fighting the urge to take those fingers into her mouth to suck.

The High Commander laughed. "You are sensitive. Good. That makes things... Interesting. And so much easier." She moved, keeping the dagger at Clarke's throat as she came round to the side of the bed.

Clarke tracked her with her eyes. The slim figure, clad in dark leathers that fit like sin, walked with a predators grace. Her eyes widened as the bed dipped under an added weight, the High Commander climbing onto the bed with her, then coming down on top of her, straddling her waist over the sheets. Desire blinded her and for a moment, just a fraction of a second, her control slipped and her hand started to reach, to touch. The dagger prodding her neck brought her back, this time drawing blood.

"Mmm-mmm." The vixen tutted, wagging her finger and shaking her head. "I have some questions I am going to ask, and you will answer truthfully. The Bond won't permit you to lie." A wickedly amused smile crossed her lips. "Mainly because I don't intend for you to have enough time for it to let you." She rose up on her knees and leaned forward, gathering Clarke's hands and holding them, pinned to the bed over her head.

Clarke gasped, both at the strength in her hand, and at the position this put the High Commander in. She gulped as she lowered her lips temptingly close, the dagger the only thing holding her at bay. She licked her lips. Damn the Bond. Damn the Bond. Damn the Bond...

The woman stopped, her lips only inches away, eyes burning into Clarke's own. "Tell me. Why did you invade our land?" She lowered her head, lips almost touching Clarke's, eyes promising the reward if Clarke answered the question.

The Bond roared, the brunettes proximity driving it wild. Clarke fought to contain it as she answered in a rushed gasp. "We didn't mean to! We didn't know anyone was here!"

The brunette hummed, licking her lips and in turn, grazing Clarke's lips in the process. Clarke twitched, clamping down on the Bond with an iron will, resisting the urge taste that tongue, to claim that tempting mouth. "Why did you come?" She asked, warm breath washing over Clarke's mouth.

Clarke swallowed, considering how to answer the question.

The High Commander raised an eyebrow, then moved up Clarke's body, pinning her chest under a knee as she sheathed her dagger in favour of tying Clarke's hands together and binding them to the headboard. She returned to her previous position, drawing her dagger and returning it to her throat. She raised her free hand and caressed Clarke's lips, cupping her cheek as again she looked in the blondes eyes. "Well?"

A shuddered breath. "Our home... Was dying. The air that should have lasted years was running out in months. Our leaders needed to know if the Earth was survivable, so they sent us."

Blue eyes searched her own, then the mouth descended for a short, heated kiss. Clarke moaned as the lips moved away, the Bond screaming its frustration. The hand stroked her head, soothing her even as it made her frustration grow. Blue eyes waited, patient as the blonde calmed, until Clarke made eye contact again. "Why you?"

That one was easy. "We were going to die anyway. May as well be useful in the process right?" She said sardonically.

Emotion darkened the fire, some distant part of Clarke's mind recognized it as concern, mixed with the satisfaction of finding the right place for a piece of a puzzle. That distant part of her was pushed away, barely acknowledged as the hand moved down her face, trailing under the blanket to stop at her breast. A thumb brushed over her nipple as the next question was asked.

"Why were you going to die?"

Clarke's breathing was very shallow now, hands straining against the rope that bound her as the Bond fought for control. "We were prisoners. The reason is different for each of us. Personally, I was arrested for Treason. I knew that the Ark was dying. My father was killed because he wanted..." Emotion choked her voice. "He wanted to tell everybody. To warn them. He thought they should be allowed the chance to work for a solution together. I agreed with him, so the Elders had me locked up in solitary to keep the secret."

The High Commander blinked, another puzzle piece sliding into place. The hand moved. Clarke cried out this time, hands grabbing at the ropes as devilish fingers twisted and pulled at her nipple. She played with it, rolling it between forefinger and thumb before releasing it to again cup the breast, and wait for the frenzied girl to calm enough for the next question.

Clarke wanted to weep. The Bond was tearing at her mind in its frustration. Every touch lit her body on fire, her Mark Healing her even as the Bond ripped muscle and flesh trying to free itself from both her control and her captors restraint. "Please." She begged. "No more. I'll answer your questions, but please don't touch me anymore. The Bond wants you, and it's ripping me apart."

The hand moved from her breast, wiping at the tears she hadn't realized she'd shed. "Shh... Just a little longer. Just a few more." Her captor soothed. "Now... Tell me. Why did you send those rockets to burn a village to the ground."

Clarke closed her eyes, weeping openly as the hand trailed down, pulling the blanket down with it to expose her breasts. "We didn't know it was there. The rockets... Our people were running out of air. To save the majority, to buy them some time, three hundred people were going to be killed. Our radio was broken, and we were out of time. We were desperate. We fired the rockets to signal our people, to let them know that we were alive, that the Earth was survivable. We were trying to prevent the Culling." Clarke's eyes opened, vision blurred by tears of sorrow, pain, and frustration as she finished. "But we were too late. That meteor shower you saw that night? Those were the lights of three hundred bodies being fired into space." She said bitterly.

Lips descended onto hers, this time the kiss was lingering, passionate and gentle. Warm hands caressed her face, her breasts, knife having been put aside in favour of pleasuring her captive. The kiss left her lips and travelled down, warm mouth and teeth pleasuring one nipple while clever fingers tormented the other. Clarke thrashed, unable to reason with the Bond as it fought free of her will only to be foiled by the rope. It raged at this, raking her mind with sharp claws and rubbing her wrists so raw that they bled. Clarke threw her head back and screamed, agony and pure frustration tearing out. "Please!" She cried.

The mouth lifted, but the hand continued its torment as she spoke. "One last question. The bridge. Did you truly intend for no one to be hurt?"

"Yes! Yes! I swear it! Ah!" Clarke was in agony, the Mark unable to help heal herself with her mind in the grips of the Bond.

This was enough for the High Commander. The blanket was tossed aside as she made her way further down. She pulled the girls legs apart and slid her fingers inside, watching as pleasure mixed with the agony on the young girls face. She blew on the slick nub, curling her fingers, searching for the bundle of nerves that she knew would drive the girl wild.

Clarke's body spasmed as the fingers brushed against that spot, the Bond sinking claws into her mind as it hungered for more. "There! There! More! Please! Please don't stop! Please!" She wept as she begged, pleasure throbbing within her body in time with the pain in her mind.

The fingers obeyed, stroking that sweet spot faster and harder than before. Eyes watched the girl twitch and convulse as pink lips descended, licking and sucking at the swollen nub.

Clarke was in agony. With every ripple of pleasure the claws sank deeper into her mind. The Bond wanted relief, craved it, but it had been suppressed for far too long. It punished Clarke now, tearing at her mind for denying it her mate for so long. Clarke thrashed her head wantonly, gasping in pleasure even as she cried out in pain. "Ah... Ah... Ah..."

Fingers and tongue moved faster, pressed harder, and with one final, hard, suck, she came, screaming in agonized relief. The claws withdrew from her mind, the Bond satisfied for now. She sobbed her relief, thanking her captor between ragged gasping breaths. "Thank you... Thank you..."

The brunette rose from between her thighs, discretely wiping her face on a corner of the discarded blanket. She cut the rope binding Clarke's wrists and pulled the shaking body close. "Easy now... Easy... It's over... Shh..." She soothed.

Clarke turned into the embrace, shuddering as great shaking sobs shook her frame. "The Bond... My mind... It hurt so much..."

"I know... I'm so sorry, but I needed to know. I had to be sure. I'm so sorry..." Hands caressed Clarke's back, soothing hands.

Clarke focused on those hands, her world narrowing in on the sensation. Eventually the convulsions wracking her body eased, then ceased, and at last with a final, shaky sigh, she followed the hands into sleep.

Lexa sighed, lightheaded with relief. That had been far too close. She had know, intellectually, that contact would drive the girl mad with the Bonds desire. Had counted on it for information. But knowing and seeing were very different. Frustration, she had anticipated that, but not pain. Carefully, gently lest the girl wake, she lay her head on the pillow and raised her arm, examining the wounds on the girls wrists. She hissed in sympathy, guilt festering in her like a poisoned blade. The skin had been rubbed raw. Blood oozed sluggishly from several shallow cuts the rope had made, the Bond not caring in its fight to be free. Her eyes narrowed as she peered at the wounds. "They aren't healing... Why aren't they healing? Even unconscious the Mark should..." Now she was truly worried. She placed the arm beside her on the bed, then rose. She covered Clarke's modesty with the blanket and left the hollow, striding to the door at a fast pace.

Outside, Anya sat with Loki, playing Hides and Hounds while casting longing glances towards the tree. She started to rise, and Loki reached out, grabbing her arm to pull her back down, eyes never leaving the game board etched into the dirt between them. He moved a stone. "Your move."

Anya huffed, moving a stone at random. "I just wish I knew what she was doing in there." She said for the tenth time.

Loki pursed his lips. The move had destroyed his strategy. He considered his next move carefully as he absentmindedly replied. "Patience."

"Patience is not my Mark." Anya quirked, moving another stone at random the moment Loki's fingers left his part. "Mate." She said.

"What? No. Where?" Loki demanded, examining the board. "Damn."

"You're a lousy player." Anya teased.

Loki scowled. "I don't care what anyone says, you cheat!"

Both looked up as the hidden door opened, and rose to their feet as the High Commander emerged.

"Something's wrong with Clarke. She isn't Healing." Lexa told them.

"What?" They asked in unison.

"Healing from what? You said you wouldn't hurt her!" Anya accused, striding toward the tree, Loki a step behind and to the side of her.

"I didn't. The wounds were self inflicted. The Bond wanted her to touch so I bound her wrists. I intended to restrain her, not to hurt." Lexa explained, turning to lead the way.

"And the wounds? You said they won't heal?" Loki asked, puzzled.

Anya caught sight of Clarke and ran to her side. She looked at the wounded wrists, then moved to her bondmates face. "Clarke? Can you wake up? Please?" No response. "Clarke? Clarke!" She was almost yelling now, slapping her cheeks in hope of eliciting a response. She turned to Loki. "Why won't she waken?"

He approached the girl, frowning as he first lifted her eyelids, then ran a finger over her Mark. "The Mark is Healing her, but it's internal. Her mind is in tatters, as though it has been shredded by a wild beast. The Mark has prioritized healing that first." He muttered. "You may treat her wounds and bandage them. This is a healing sleep, she will not waken."

"Is there nothing more we can do for her?" Lexa asked.

"If you were Joined, perhaps. But as it is there is nothing. Anya can strengthen the healing through their Marks, but you..." He paused. "Maybe you can help. If the Bond will let you. Lay down on either side of her, both of you, and hold her hand."

They complied, both laying on their sides, facing Clarke.

"I cannot Join you to them while one is unconscious. However I can, in theory, temporarily link you into the Bond. I warn you, this may be... Disorienting. You'll feel everything that she feels, and you will lose yourself if you are not careful. But, if this works, Anya's Strength will speed her Healing, and your Reason may help piece her mind back together. Are you ready?"

They made eye contact over the sleeping girl and nodded as one.

Loki took a steadying breath. "Then brace yourselves. This will hurt."

He reached out a hand and touched both of their Marks. He started to chant under his breath as his Mark-a sideways X through a circle, with a dot between the lines-began to glow. The Marks of Reason and Strength glowed with it. The glow intensified as he trailed his fingers from their Marks to their hands, tying them into the Bond.

Pain. They cried out as they fell into the Bond, the pain consuming everything, even thought. Silver sand flew in whirlwinds all around them, the sky sped past, filled with clouds the darkest shade of grey. They made eye contact and grabbed each others hands.

"What is this?" Lexa yelled.

"The Bond!" Anya yelled back.

Lexa stepped closer, wind howled like a wounded beast all around them, though just as before there was no breeze. "Why is it doing this?!" She shouted into Anya's ear.

Anya turned her head to yell back. "It's angry! It's been suppressed for too long! It wants you to Join us, and it's angry at being denied."

Lexa was speechless, for once her Mark failing to help her understand. "But how is that possible?! I only met her a candlemark ago!"

"That doesn't matter! When we Joined our Marks, a permanent Bond was formed. But we were Unbalanced. The Bond knew this, so it chose someone else to be that Balance. The Bond searched through our memories, and in its search it found you!"

Lexa suddenly felt very young, vulnerable, exposed. "Why me?! I don't want this! I had nothing to do with this!"

Anya grasped both of her shoulders. "Why any of us?! None of us wanted this! We made a choice. Mine was to save Tris, hers was to save her people. The Bond, that happened on its own. None of us chose any of it!" She gave the shoulders a shake. "And this isn't you! Focus! Don't lose yourself to her hopelessness! Think through the pain! Come back to me!"

Lexa gasped. "You're right. This isn't me." She closed her eyes and pushed the pain away, focusing on her Mark. Reason glowed, bringing her back to herself, keeping her grounded in the storm. She opened her eyes, nodding to show that she was ok. "So now what? Where's Clarke?"

Anya turned her head. "There." She pointed.

Lexa followed her gaze. Anya was pointing at the largest whirlwind, a solid wall of silver spinning round. "There...?"

"There." Anya confirmed.

"But how...?" Lexa started to ask, but her Mark had already given her the answer. "...oh." She finished softly, voice lost in the wind. A hand stroked her face, and she turned to see Anya looking at her softly.

"I'm sorry." Anya said. "I never meant for this to happen. If I'd known..."

Lexa pressed her fingers to her mouth, silencing her. "I know." She turned to the giant whirlwind. She stepped forward, away from Anya, and stood with her hands at her side. "I accept you." She said to the Bond. "I accept you. Please let us help her. Let me Join with her."

Instantly the storm stilled. The clouds froze in place, the sand falling around them as the wind that had been carrying it stopped its rage. Clarke lay still before them. They ran to her, Anya pulling her into her arms as Lexa grabbed her hands. They held her, bidding their Marks to help her in whatever way they could. Lexa wept, feeling the pain as if it were her own as the Bond channeled Reason into the girl, piecing her mind back together. Anya shuddered, feeling the drain on her Strength and the Bond drew on her Mark, helping Clarke to Heal. Silently they prayed, hoping that it would be enough.

Clarke opened her eyes, and they both sagged in exhausted relief. She looked at Anya. "You came for me."

Anya smiled, a true smile radiant with relief. "I told you my Strength was yours."

Clarke smiled, then looked at Lexa. "I heard you. You called me. Thank you."

Lexa brushed some hair away from Clarke's eyes. "It was the least I could do. I caused this after all."

Clarke caught her hand. "I heard you. What you said. You want to Join our Marks. Why? What's in it for you?"

Lexa moistened her lips. "I've known Anya a long time. What happened to you was... Horrible. I didn't want to be why it happened to her. And." She paused, brushing her thumb over Clarke's hand. "You are a good person, Clarke of the Sky People. I didn't want you to die. Not like this, not because of me."

Clarke nodded, accepting this. "What's your name?"

Lexa laughed a little. "It's a little late for an introduction."

Clarke smiled, giving the hand in hers a gentle squeeze. "It's never too late to start over."

"...it's Lexa. My name is Lexa."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lexa."

The Bond released them then, sending them flying back into themselves with a speed that left them dizzy. A rolling warning followed. It had accepted Lexa's word, for now, but she had better deliver on it soon.

They gazed at each other for some moments, exhaustion and relief echoed in each other's gaze. Clarke was the one to break the silence. "Think the Bond will let us get to know each other a little first?"

Anya and Lexa both laughed.

"Has it ever?" Anya asked.

"Maybe we could take a nap first?" Was Clarke's next suggestion.

The Bonds refusal to that was so strong even Lexa felt it, echoing down the Link she still held. She looked down at their joined hands, then back to Clarke's eyes. "Doubt it."

Clarke pouted. "Can I at least get dressed first?"

Anya smirked, looking under the blanket lewdly. "What's the point? We'd only rip them off of you in a minute."

Lexa also gave a perverted glance. "I quite like you naked actually. We may just have to keep you this way."

Clarke crossed her arms stubbornly. "Either I get dressed or you get naked. If we're doing this, we're doing it as equals."

Lexa and Anya exchanged amused glances. "Though the challenge is very tempting." Anya began. "We'll let you get dressed. Your body is for our eyes alone." Lexa finished.

The Link vanished as they released Clarke's hands, each crossing the room and bringing back a different article of her clothes. They stood beside her, grinning as they said. "But we get to be the ones to put them on you."

Clarke groaned, looking around the hollow for the man she knew was with them.

Lexa understood. "Loki's waiting for us outside." She reassured her.

Clarke nodded. She bit her lip, suddenly feeling very self-conscious with the two warrior women watching her. She sat up, clutching the blanket to her chest, and scooted to the edge of the bed.

Anya stepped forward. "A little late to be modest, don't you think?" She asked, gently caressing Clarke's face.

Clarke blushed, looking away. "Um."

Anya chuckled. "Alright, have it your way. Here." She kneeled, placing Clarke's pants at her feet.

Clarke blushed harder, stepping into them, determined to look anywhere but at the mischievous blonde. Her breath caught as Anya pulled them up, her hands caressing her thighs as the passed.

Anya stepped back, trying not to laugh as Lexa stepped forward. "Arms." She instructed.

Clarke found that it was very difficult to Not Look at someone who was barely a foot in front of your face. She closed her eyes, pouting as Lexa chuckled softly. The shirt was raised over her head, the blanket falling as she pushed her arms through the sleeves.

To her credit, Lexa resisted the urge to briefly caress the curves before her, instead choosing to place a chaste kiss on those pouting lips after she lowered the shirt.

Clarke's eyes flew open. "Sneaky." She remarked.

Lexa smiled, taking Clarke's hand. "Come on, let's get Loki."

Clarke's brow wrinkled. "Was that meant to be a pun? Because if it was, that was terrible."

Anya laughed loudly this time, following them outside the hollow.

Loki had been cooking. He gave the pot over the fire a stir, then poured a generous portion of what Clarke guessed was stew into a bowl. He looked up as they approached. "It worked!"

Lexa raised an eyebrow. "You seem surprised."

Loki coughed into his arm. "No no, of course not. I knew it would work. I knew it would work." He held out the bowl. "Rabbit stew?"

Lexa cast the bowl a suspicious glance. "Rabbit and what else?"

Loki rolled his eyes. "Get drunk one time and accidentally add pickled peppers to tomato soup, and everybody's a critic. Eat!" He urged.

Lexa crossed her arms. "Rabbit and what else?" She repeated.

Loki shrugged. "Some kind of fish. I was roasting it when it fell into the pot. Mushrooms, onions, an old apple I intended to toss to my horse but missed. Pepper, salt... Though it might have been sugar."

Lexa, Anya, and Clarke all stepped back, shaking their heads in refusal.

Loki put the bowl down. "It smells good." He said dejectedly.

"I'm afraid we don't have time to eat." Anya intervened. "The Bond is getting impatient. We need you to Join us. Please?"

"Oh. Well, when you put it that way." Loki stood, brushing the dirt from his pants. "Lead on."

They walked back to the tree entrance, Loki stopping them at the threshold. "I think here will be just fine." He said. "Once I do this, there will be no quite period like there was the last time. The Bond will want you to be one with each other right away. And as much I would enjoy watching you achieve that oneness," he wriggled his eyebrows roguishly "my wife would kill me."

He positioned them so that they stood side by side, with Lexa in the middle. He instructed them to link hands, then began his chant. He reached out, touching Clarke's and Anya's Marks, circling them three times just as he had done before.

Clarke felt a warm glow. It was nothing like the burning from last time. It felt almost... Pleasant. Like coming home.

He trailed his fingers down to their joined hands, then up to Lexa's Mark, his fingers meeting in the centre.

The women jerked, all three of them simultaneously feeling something inside of them click into place.

Loki stepped back. "And that, ladies, is my cue to leave." He said, closing the door behind him.

"Woah." Clarke said.

"I see what he meant." Anya said.

They turned toward Lexa.

She swallowed, suddenly feeling very nervous. "Can we take this to the bed?"

Clarke and Anya complied, both holding a hand as they led her over to the bed. Clarke removed her shirt, while Anya undid the fastenings on her pants. Lexa gasped as her breasts were exposed, only to be covered again moments later by Clarke's hands as she stepped up behind her. She kissed her neck as Anya pulled her pants off, leaving her completely exposed to their wandering hands.

Lexa turned, pulling Clarke's shirt off. Anya rose, trailing rough fingers up Lexa's legs, over her things, skimming around her sex, up her belly, her breasts... Clarke wound her arms around Lexa's neck, kissing her passionately as Anya removed her own shirt, returning to wrap her arms around Lexa's waist. She trailed her hands up, stroking both her lovers bodies as she made her way to their breasts. Both women moaned into their kiss, Anya's fingers rubbing both their nipples into hardened nubs. Anya pressed her own breasts against Lexa's back, alternating between licking and biting at her neck and kissing and sucking Clarke's fingers.

Lexa moaned as the fingers pinching her nipple gave a wonderfully timed twist, coinciding with Clarke sucking on her lip and Anya licking the sweet spot by her ear. She twisted away from the kiss, turning to kiss Anya as Clarke stepped around her to remove Anya's pants.

Clarke stepped back to wriggle out of her own pants, then stopped to watch. Her hands moved of their own accord, touching where they were touching. Lexa's hand cupped Anya's breast, thumb stroking over and around the pink nipple. Clarke's gasp mixed with Anya's as her fingers stroked her own. Anya reached down, stroking and kneading the nub between Lexa's folds. Clarke groaned as her hand followed.

Anya heard the quiet moan and broke the kiss, turning to see her Bondmate's eyes glazed in pleasure, her hands on herself as she watched them. Lexa had turned to look with her. As one, they reached out, each grabbing one of Clarke's arms and pulling her back to them. Clarke mewled as they sandwiched her between them, Anya turning her head to kiss her over her shoulder, her other hand winding round to pinch a nipple. Lexa licked Clarke's arching neck, pinching her other nipple, then knelt down. Anya's arms steadied Clarke, helped her keep her balance as Lexa lifted one of her legs, bringing it to rest on her shoulder. She kissed Clarke's thigh, then trailed her tongue from thigh to core.

Clarke gasped and arched back as Lexa's mouth pleasured her, Anya breaking the kiss in favour of watching Clarke gasp and moan. She played with one of Clarke's nipples, her other hand reaching down to caress the head that was between her legs. Clarke moaned, tossing her head back. "Lexa..." She gasped.

Warmth flowed over Lexa's mouth and she licked faster, swallowing the juices. She lowered Clarke's leg to the ground and caressed it as she rose, wiping her moist chin on her arm. She reached around Clarke and grabbed Anya's head, pulling her in for a kiss over Clarke's shoulder.

Clarke reached around to stroke Lexa's back. She tilted her head and licked up Lexa's neck to nibble and suck around her ear.

Lexa broke away from the kiss with a sharp cry as Clarke's tongue brushed a particularly sensitive spot, and it was her turn to need help with standing, her body shaking as her first orgasm washed over her.

"And you said I was sensitive." Clarke smirked.

"Shut... Up..." Lexa panted, a small smile taking away any sting inflicted by the words.

Clarke chuckled. She stroked Lexa's cheek and leaned in for a gentle, lingering kiss. She then turned and took Anya's hands. She sat on the bed and scooted back, pulling Anya onto the bed with her. She lay down, and motioned for Anya to turn around, then pulled her back until she was hovered over her face.

Anya made eye contact with Lexa and motioned for her to come over. Lexa complied, straddling Clarke's waist. She began to kiss Anya, but Anya had more than that in mind. As Clarke began to lick and suck her in earnest, Anya snaked her own hand between Lexa's thighs. Lexa moaned into the kiss, pulling Anya's hair and roughly palming a breast. She slid back, not enough to stop the pleasurable motion, but far enough that it could, maybe, be shared. Anya caught on and followed her, leaning forward. She braced her elbow on the bed beside Clarke's hip to support herself. Lexa pulled at Clarke's leg, signalling her to bend her knee. As Clarke complied, Anya reached under and around her thigh to rub at her nub. Clarke sucked harder in appreciation.

Anya moved to insert her fingers into Lexa, but Lexa shied away. She moved away from the tempting digits. Catching Anya's puzzled look, she smiled for reassurance and brought the fingers to her mouth. She licked and sucked them clean, then pushed Anya up, away from Clarke's sex. Clarke gave a small whine, but didn't stop. Anya couldn't repress a groan as that wicked tongue pressed inside her, massaging at her entrance.

Lexa had Clarke bend her other leg and lowered her head between them, pulling Anya's wet fingers with her. Anya smiled her approval as they worked together to pleasure Clarke. Anya's fingers slicked over the nub, Lexa's sliding inside to focus on the internal nerves as her tongue worked the outside, pleasuring the clit and keeping Anya's fingers moist. Clarke tightened her grip on Anya's thighs, licking and sucking at a frenzied pace. With two of them working at her, she knew she wouldn't last long and she was determined that Anya would come first.

She almost did. Clarke was talented, and very enthusiastic. But then Lexa reached up and grasped her breast to pull at a nipple, pressing firmly against the nerves at the same time, and did them both in. They came simultaneously. Anya with a shudder and Clarke with a quiet gasp as she struggled to swallow the juices as her body orgasmed with her. Lexa saw the struggle and moved, repositioning Anya so she could lap them up instead. She slipped her fingers inside, quickly stroking her to a second orgasm, then a third. Anya cried out the third time, and Lexa withdrew her fingers, satisfied.

By this time Clarke had calmed down. Anya was curled up beside her, still shaking from her last orgasm, and Lexa... Clarke grinned, grabbing the woman and doing a little flip, changing their positions so she had Lexa pinned to the bed. She grinned down at her prize, then captured her lips in a heated kiss. Lexa moaned and tried to move her hands to touch the blonde, but Clarke resisted, holding her down. She paused the kiss, pulling back just long to say. "No... I want to watch you, no distractions." Then kissed her captive again.

Anya had recovered from earlier, and hearing this, moved up to the head of the bed. She tore a long strip of cloth from the bed sheet and wound it around Lexa's wrists, securing them to the bed. "Don't worry." She whispered into Lexa's ear. "It won't hurt you like it did her."

Lexa winced at the reminder, the shared pain still fresh in her mind. She nodded, looking up at her lovers. "I trust you."

They smiled in response. Anya stayed by Lexa's head, taking over the kiss as Clarke slid down. Lexa jumped slightly as Clarke brushed by her abdomen. Curious, Clarke paused in her intentions, experimentally brushing her fingers over the skin again, this time slightly lower, to be rewarded with another twitch. Clarke contemplated this silently as she parted Lexa's legs. She doubted that the warrior was ticklish. The slight resistance she sensed in Lexa's thighs as they parted gave light to a different theory. She rubbed the slick nub distractingly as she examined her flower with a medically trained eye. She blinked, startled, as what she saw confirmed her suspicion. She looked up at the bound woman. "Lexa..."

Lexa flushed, not denying the discovery. "Our clan values purity. For most ranks, it doesn't matter, but for leaders it does. Sometimes, the only way to form an alliance of peace between warring tribes is through marriage. As leader, it is my responsibility to remain pure, should such a situation arise."

Clarke raised an eyebrow. "Somehow, I doubt that someone with a mouth as skilled as yours has any right to claim purity." She said wryly.

Lexa glanced to the side, avoiding eye contact as she murmured. "I'm not as skilled as you seem to think. Before, the Bond was manipulating your body, making you hypersensitive to my touch. And after... This is my Consequence, I think, the Price I must pay for Joining my Mark with yours. I am very... In tune with you. What you feel, I feel, both the physical and the emotional."

"Empathy." Anya said, eyes widening in sympathetic understanding.

"Yes." Lexa said, soft as a whisper.

Anya sighed, bringing her finger under Lexa's chin. She tilted her head up, gently forcing Lexa's head up to look in her eyes. "You know that can't happen now, don't you? The Bond won't allow you to give your body to anyone else. And it won't be satisfied until we claim you as you have claimed us."

Lexa closed her eyes. "I know."

Clarke caressed her thigh. "Hey, it'll be okay. Just relax... You'll enjoy this."

Lexa smiled a little, opening her eyes to look down at Clarke. "I know."

Clarke smiled back at her, then kissed her sex. She ran her tongue over the virgin lips, circling the entrance but not going in. Lexa began to squirm, and gave a little gasp as Anya hand trailed down to torment a nipple. Clarke motioned for Anya to switch places with her, and licked and kissed her way up the brunettes body as Anya did the same going down. Clarke took a nipple into her mouth, sucking and biting as her hand played with the other. Anya began licking in earnest, sucking at the weeping nub while being mindful not to enter her so soon.

Lexa began to struggle, writhing and jerking at her bonds as the blondes worked in tandem, bringing her to new heights of pleasure that for once were entirely her own. "Ah... Ah! Oh please, please, more..." She started to beg, not at all clear on what her body wanted more of but knowing with certainty that whatever it was, she needed it. Anya and Clarke both sucked hard, making her buck her hips. "More!" She begged.

Clarke moved down her body, keeping one hand on a nipple. She stopped beside Anya. She took two of Anya's fingers into her mouth and began to suck, moistening them as she brought two of her own fingers to Anya's mouth for her to do the same. Anya complied, massaging Lexa's nub with her other hand to keep her distracted. When both their fingers were sufficiently wet, they withdrew them from their mouths and looked up at the thrashing girl. Sweat glistened on her skin as she tossed her head and moaned, her body twisting uncontrollably under them. They positioned their fingers at her entrance, and as one, claimed her.

"Oh... Oh... Oh..." Lexa moaned, feeling them pushing past her barrier. "Ah..." She winced, feeling herself tear even as the pressure started to build up a new kind of pleasure. The fingers stopped for a moment, pausing to let her adjust. She gasped for a moment, panting at the mix of pleasure and pain, then nodded. "More..."

The fingers continued, moving within her, both finding and massaging her sweet spot at nearly the same time. "Ah! There! There!" Lexa cried shrilly, body convulsing as they withdrew, only to press back into it a moment later. "Ah!"

They upped the pace, working steadily faster as they watched the brunette lose all control in her pleasure. She bucked, they followed. With every twisted convulsion they were there. At last she came with a scream, bucking high as she convulsed, back arching off the bed. Anya cut the sheets that had bound her and Clarke held her close, Anya pressing in to hold her on her other side. They caressed her as they watched her come down from her high. She lay there, panting, staring up at the netting above them as she caught her breath. "Goddess..." She breathed.

Clarke chuckled. "I seem to have that effect on people."

Anya smacked her head playfully.

Clarke smiled back playfully, then sobered. "What now?" She asked.

Anya frowned. "I'm... Not sure. Joinings of Three are very rare. And Lexa... That changes things."

Lexa furrowed her brow, deep in thought. "What was your plan before?"

"Slavery." Clarke said bitterly.

Anya nodded. "I had planned on sending her people to Shadows Creek, on the border of out territory. There's an abandoned village there. That was to be payment for her efforts at saving Tris. I was then going to keep her as a war hostage, and yes, a slave. My Consequence for the Joining is that I need her near... I'll need you both near, now, for clarity of thought. My mind grows hazy when you're not near. Contact seems to help. The more I have, the more I can be away, I think."

Lexa hummed. "That will still work. I will make you my personal body guard. Our people will accept our being Joined, it has happened before in the past. Clarke though..." She glanced over, not unsympathetic as she continued. "I believe we should keep our Joining with her a secret for now. They would not be willing to understand. I will make her my personal slave and have her apprenticed to our Healer. The training will be hard, but it's the only way I can keep her safe." She caressed Clarke's cheek, feeling the distress she didn't show.

"Can I still have this place? To be myself?" Clarke asked, expecting the no.

Anya reached across Lexa to hold Clarke's hand. "Yes. For however many times we can come out here, this place will be your haven."

Clarke nodded. "And your bed?"

Here Anya hesitated, looking to Lexa for guidance.

Lexa considered this. "That will be... Tricky. As my personal slave, and body guard, sharing my room with you would be expected. But my bed... Anya would be ok, as our Joining would be known. But should anyone see you..."

Clarke nodded, having expected this, even as she felt the small part of herself that had dared to hope die.

Lexa felt it too. Her heart ached for the girl, and she turned to wrap her arms around her in an embrace. "Perhaps... We could claim you as a pleasure slave. It's rare for a Joined pair to take one, but it's not unheard of. You could share our bed then." She said gently.

"That may actually be for the best." Anya said thoughtfully. "Clarke's Consequence is that she can't bear the touch of any other, it's painful for her. Being a pleasure slave, ironically, could protect her from that."

A pleasure slave...? Clarke burned with humiliation at the the thought.

Lexa stroked her head sympathetically.

Anya got up and walked around the bed, getting back on to hold Clarke from the other side of her. "My strength is yours." She whispered.

That did it. Clarke's walls crumbled and she broke, silently crying as she shakily asked. "Why are you being like this? So kind? I mean, the Bond... It's satisfied now, so why...?"

"I feel what you feel." Lexa said simply. "And the Bond... When we Linked to it to find you, it changed us, I think."

"It made us feel your pain." Anya said.

Clarke blinked the tears from her eyes as she fought to regain control of herself. "...oh." She said softly.

"It will be hard, I can't change that." Lexa said gently. "But we will be there. You are not alone."

You are not alone.

Clarke smiled.

"I can live with that."

-The End-