With Pain Comes Strength

Chapter One

Disclaimer: I own nothing mentioned in this story.

"NO! NO! FINN!" Clarke struggles against her captor. "Let me go! Let me go!" Her voice breaks as she fights against the bigger man. He holds her until they can no longer hear hoofbeats. She beats on his chest and he sets her on the ground. She sits there and he begins to pick up the instruments.

He looks to the girl, he eyes now dry, a few tears already run down her chin. She stares at the floor in grief. "Anya will take no pleasure in his death."

She looks at him before continuing to pick things up. "What were those marks on her shoulder?"

"Kills." The man's voice is gruff as he stares at the blonde.

Clarke picks up he scalpel. "She was a little girl."

"She was a great warrior."

How many do you have?" Clarke stares at the man in question, fingers loosely holding onto the scalp. The man unbuckles the chest guard and slides his shirt down. "That's a lot."

"Over half were after I hurt my knee." His voice is proud and Clarke moves like a snake. Her leg strikes his injured limb and she lashes forward with the scalpel. He reacts to slow, pulling his arm up. She catch part of his throat but his right arm also, he struggles against her and manages to knock the scalpel away. He makes a growling sound as he tries and fails to stand up. Clarke looks around for the scalpel when she is pinned to the wall.

She struggles against her capture. Deeft fingers tie her hands behind her back. Anya smirks at her. "You are resourceful. Smart. You will make a great warrior."

Clarke pushes back off the wall. "I will not be a warrior for your people." Her feet shoving against it. Anya pushes against her back, not allowing the blonde to shove her back. Suddenly Clarke goes limp and Anya falls forward. Clarke scrambles out of the woman's way and snatches the scalpel up. She cuts the rope and stands in a low position.

Anya's lips twitch in a half smirk. Proud almost. "You are smart. Calculating." She moves forward and Clarke tries to stab her with the scalpel. Anya bats her hand away and Clarke slips out of the grip and throws a jug like item on the floor at her. Anya ducks out of the way and tackles the Skye teeenager. Clarke struggles against the older blonde as Anya pins her to the floor. She pulls out more rope and Clarke's hands find another jug and slams it into the leaders skull. She falls off of Clarke without a sound and Clarke sitches their position. She picks up the scalpel and brings it down with all her strength. Anya's hands move and grasp her wrists, holding the scalpel inches away from her neck. She shoves and twists her hips against the younger blonde and manages to switch their positions. Clarke struggles against the grinning grounder. "With training you could be better. I thought you were weak." Clarke shoves against the woman but pants as she can't do anything. Her eyes move over to where the warrior is staring at them with glazed eyes. "He is dead." She pulls Clarke's shirt down at the shoulder. Clarke struggles against her as she flips the blonde over onto her stomach. She sits there as she holds the scalpel over the fire, she then presses the scalpel into the skin on Clarkes left shoulder. Clarke screams out and Anya pulls the scalpel away. "You are now marked with your first combat death."

She whistles and another warrior comes in. "Get chains." He nods and Clarke struggles against the woman resting on her lower back. Anya doesn't budge. She pulls Clarke's hands over the younger blondes head and holds them there as the warrior chains the girls arms. Anya climbs off of her and jerks on the chain, pulling the Skye leader up off the ground. "Get his body." He nods and heaves the man over his shoulder. There is a large blood stain left on the floor. Signs of Clarke's struggle against Anya are left all over the floor.

As Anya shoves Clarke up onto a horse she climbs on behind her, the other grounder puts the dead man onto his horse, and they ride off into the forest. They make it to a large clearing and Anya whistles. She tilts her head and fifty warriors wait for her instructions. "I need to go to camp, wait here for my orders." They nod and bow. She rides off with Clarke and two other grounder, both have a body on their horse. Clarke swallows as she sees the little girl, sadness filters through her mind and then her eyes flit to the man she had killed. Her shoulder aches in tune with her heartbeat. She turns her eyes away from him. The ride isn't long until they trot through a gate. The two men vanish and Anya pulls Clarke roughly off of the horse. The young blonde stumbles as the older blonde drags her to a tent. She chains Clarke to a metal pole in the middle of the tent. "You will stay here. By morning I will be back."

"You can't slaughter my people!"

"You killed Ahmen."

Clarke's face crinkles and she sighs. "Please, don't kill them, i'll do whatever you want."

"War is war. Death happens." With those final words Anya turns and leaves. "Jon, watch her. She is smart. No harm unless she tries to escape. No one enters." The man nods and looks inside the tent before standing with straight back, weapon sitting in his scabbard.

Anya rides back into the clearing, her warriors rest once she shows up. They wait the night out.

Across the forest Lincoln rides back until he makes it to Finn, he hadn't yet lit the fire. "I am sorry."

Finn shakes his head. "No, why would they kill her? She's not dead."

"There were signs of a struggle, she fought against one of them. They killed her." Lincoln looks to the horse. "We must ride, they will attack sometime tomorrow. We need to warn your people. I saw troops moving." Finn nods numbly and Lincoln pulls the boy onto the horse, they ride in silence until the horse stops. It looks nervous. "Reapers."

"What?" Finn's eyes are sad and lost.

"We're near their cave, they are trouble." Lincoln coaxes the horse to keep moving. Soon they come upon the camp and the gates open.

Octavia runs forward and hugs Lincoln as he slips off the looks around. His throat raw. "Where's Clarke." Lincoln shakes his head and Finn swallows. "Where is she?"

Finn swallows again. "She's dead." The hundred gasp and some look around in confusion.

Bellamy glares at LIncoln. "Your people did this!" He shove the man and punches him.

Lincoln moves to hit back but Octavia holds him off. "Stop, both of you, this isn't helping!"

Bellamy looks around and Raven stumbles out of the forest. "Help me."

Finn catches her and takes her to the drop ship. Lincoln follows. He shakes his head. "There is nothing we can do. I've seen warriors with this, they lose the ability to walk unless helped."

Ravne looks around. "Where's Clarke?"

Finn dips his head. "She can't help you, she's dead."

"Oh god." Raven's voice is soft.

Lincoln presses a hot knife into her stomach without a word and she screams loudly. "That will slow the bleeding but you won't handle the trip to the ocean with it still in you."

Bellamy speaks up. "Trip to the ocean?"

"Hundreds of my people are coming to kill you. They sent in help from another tribe of stronger warriors. They will slaughter you all."

"NO! We will stay and fight! We may have fallen from the sky but we are Grounders! They think we don't belong here but we do! We will show them our strength. We will win!" The camp shouts loudly. "We will avenge our dead!" The camp screams louder.

Lincoln growls but Octavia speaks up. She swallows first. "I've seen them fight, they are ruthless, bullets mean nothing to them. Guns mean nothing. There are hundreds of them. There are eighty of us. They will kill us. We have a chance of survival, so pack up your things and lets go, it's what Clarke would have wanted." Octavia's voice drops into a sad tone and the group nods. Bellamy looks at her pained as they all pack to leave. "You did all you could Bell, but sometimes to live we have to leave."

"They killed our people O. Clarke's dead."

"I know Bell, but risking everyone else's lives wouldn't be what she'd want. She'd want us to go to the ocean. To be free." He nods and looks at the camp they had build.

Lincoln hooks the horse up to a cart, Finn standing next to him. "Load the cart with supplies once I have the girl in it." Raven grunts as he places her on thee cart. "I can pull it out now or later."

"Chances of me walking?"

"Better the sooner it comes out."

"Got anything to knock me out."

Lincoln nods, he pulls out two things. "This will slow bleeding and this will make you sleep."

Raven nods and he gives her both shots. Slowly her eyes close and he pulls out a scalpel. Finn dumps Monty's moonshine on it and Lincoln cuts the bullet out. His eyes move and take in every inch of damage before he begins to fix her. He finishes, his hands bloody as he drops a bullet in the grass. "She will be fine. The was no internal bleeding yet and the bullet did not strike bone. She should walk." He looks around the camp. "The pace will be fast. We must be far away before my people realize we have left."

The sun beginning to set, they leave the camp, walking fast paced. Bellamy looks around. "Stay quiet and keep the horse and Lincoln in your sights at all times. We can't have anyone getting lost. Do not fire your weapon unless I say so, we cannot give away our position."

Lincoln nods and looks around. "We have until sunrise to get out of the forest, they will send scouts to your camp when the sun begins to rise." Octavia grips his hand in hers as they all walk through the darkening forest.

Jasper walks near Bellamy. "We lost Clarke and Monty."

"I know Jasper." Bellamy's voice is defeated. Across the forest Clarke sighs in defeat and struggles against her bonds.

Night passes and by dawn eight scouts climb in the trees three hundred yards from the camp site. They don't see movement but they spot the fire burning. They nod and wait to be sure no one leaves. Clarke sleeps slumped against the pole, the warrior still standing in front of the tent.

Across the forest Lincoln stops, they had made good time in the dark. He pulls a stretcher off the wagon. "We leave the horse now, they will follow the wagon tracks, grab what you can." The former arc prisoners nod sleepily and grab supplies from the wagon. Another boy and Finn place Raven on the stretcher and they carry the girl as Lincoln slaps the horse on it's rump in the opposite direction they are going. "We walk in this stream until the forest. Take your shoes off and tie them to your bags." Lincoln slips his own shoes off and begins to walk. The others follow him. "The stream will hide our route, stay in it." They nod and continue on their way. No one complains, to tired to do anything.

Hours pass, the scouts grow wary but continue to wait, the orders from Tristen keeping them from moving closer to camp. Something was off, but maybe they had scared the weaklings into hiding.

Clarke continues to pull on her chained hands but the pole doesn't budge, all that happens is the chains rubbing her skin raw. The grounder camp is bustling with little activity, a few kids run around camp, some looking for a way in Anya's tent to see the outsider but the warrior scares them off.

Still in the stream Bellamy's group continues on, most look dead on their feet but fear has the moving even as their bodies protest. They eat as they walk, Lincoln not allowing them to stop. They had come so far, they just needed to keep walking, get a days start on his people. Bellamy looks to the watch that is tied around his neck. They had been walking for almost fifteen hours hours. He'd counted and they had done roughly forty-four miles non-stop. He felt the ache in his legs and the pruning of his toes as they slide against the rocks in the stream but he continued on, showing his people they could do this. He catches up to Lincoln and whisper. "We've done forty-four miles."

Lincoln nods. "I didn't think you would get that many in, but your people keep good pace. We should stop for a short rest in six miles, but we must exit the water, we've been in it for too long, their feet will become infected if they continue. We spent thirteen miles in the stream." He looks around. "We should rest and they will put medicine on their feet."

Bellamy nods and looks back at his people. "Alright guys, we are stopping for a short rest, take care of your feet, dry them off gently and get medicine from Lincoln. Then put your socks and shoes on, make sure they are dry. Eat and go to the restroom while you can. Stay hydrated." His people nod and climb out of the stream, Raven is still unconscious and LIncoln mixes medicine with some water before pouring it down her throat. Bellamy dries his feet off and Lincoln passes some powder around the group of teenagers. They only rest for maybe thirty minutes before they begin to walk again. The sun is slowly climbing the sky.

The sun passes mid-day and Clarke is brought a cup of water. She drinks it. "Where are the rest of the warriors? Anya?" The man ignores her and she clenches her jaw. "Do you even speak english?" He takes the cup and leaves. She pulls and kicks at the pole but it doesn't move. She pulls on the chains. Nothing happens except the pinching and raw rubbing of her wrist. "Dammit." Tears fill her eyes.

In the forest, the grounders sharpen their weapon, waiting for dark to come again, they would attack as the sun is setting. Anya watches as they lace their arrows with poison. Tristen stares at her. "We will kill them all."

"We should be attacking now, the more we wait the more time they have to prepare." Anya glares at him before turning her eyes back to her warriors.

"They are weak, we will defeat them easily." Tristen states arrogantly.

"Don't underestimate them Tristen."

He pulls a knife and grabs her throat. "You question my leadership?"

"No, I question your logic."

He slaps her across the face. "Then keep it to yourself. You may lead the Southern Clan but I lead the Northern Clan and the Commander chose me to take over where you failed."

She licks her lip "You will regret doing that Tristen."

He snarls. "You shouldn't even lead a clan, you are weak."

Her back stiffens and she stands tall. "You question me? Who won the last fight?"

"That was only luck." He turns and leaves shoving men out of the way.

The grounder who carried Tris last night comes forward. "He will regret that."

"I will kill him, just not now. He has his uses for now." Anya wipes the blood away from her lip. "We should be attacking now."

"His scouts that he brought are watching the camp." The man speaks lowly.

"Did he send any of you?"

"No, says he doesn't trust our training." Anya growls low as the man finishes speaking.

"He is insolent. He will make a mistake sooner or later, we should have left by now. They should be burning at our feet." Anya cracks her neck as she turns and heads to the fire.

As the sun passes midday. Lincoln looks back at the group he was leading, they looked exhausted and something like pride burst in his chest, they were strong, no matter what his people said. Lincoln looks to Octavia and a smile twitches at his lips, never before had he wanted to smile before he met her. She smiles at him, eyes bright but sadness lurking in the depths of them. "We are more than halfway there. We will rest, sleep for a few hours and then be on our way again. We have one more day to walk."

They sigh in relief and fall to the ground. Some drink and eat others fall asleep instantly. Octavia goes around and wakes them up, forcing them to eat and drink. Bellamy sits on a log, his face lost in thought. Octavia sits next to him, eyes watching Lincoln check over Raven who is finally waking up. "We're almost there Bell."

"We left behind so much O. So much."

"I know." She leans her head on his shoulder. "I know."

"I'm so sorry O. You mean the world to me. I can't lose you. I lost Charlotte, then Roma and now Clarke. I can't lead without her O. She was the voice of reason"

Octavia pulls him close and he wraps her in his arms. "They listen to you, they trust you. They miss Clarke to, but you can lead them. Be inspiration and rational. Do what Clarke would do but also what you would do, I believe in you Bell."

He sighs and drops his head on her shoulder. "We lost seventeen people O. seventeen dead."

"There's still eighty-four of us. Look around, we are strong." Her hand squeezes his before she gets up. "Sleep Bell. You need it."

He nods and looks around at his people. Most are slumped against each other and trees. No one bothered with blankets. His eyes spot Raven. She is sitting up as Lincoln touches her feet. Tear spring in her eyes as she nods. He listens in. "Can you feel that?"

"Yes." Her voice is choked.

Lincoln nods. "You still have feeling in your legs. The bleeding has stopped, but you shouldn't walk until we get to the ocean. The healer will look over you there."

She nods and touches his shoulder. "Thank you. Thank you." He ducks his head but nods. They fall asleep in the middle of the day.

Back in the grounder camp Clarke picks at the food that had been brought to her. Her stomach is nervous and rolling. She was her tied up and her people were going to be slaughter. She breathes in deeply and looks at the pole. She pulls the bone out of the leg they had given her. She hides it under her butt when the man comes back for the barely touched food. He says nothing before leaving. Clarke sighs and then beginning to dig with the bone. It digs into her fingers but she continues.

The scouts wait outside the Sky camp but the fire had went out. The look to one another but remain where they are. Tristen's orders were to remain 300 yards back, kill anyone who left and do not get spotted. They would die if he saw any inclination that they were closers than 300 yards. They wait it out, waiting for night to fall. For the drumbeat of their warriors.

Anya paces at their own campsite, warriors look antsy as they sharpen and check weapon. Soon they would fight. Kill. Earn more marks. Tristen looks bored almost as he twirls a knife in his hand. He would kill these Sky people and earn The Commanders approval. The Commander had always favored Anya and the Southern Clan. He throws the knife with precision and pins a moth to a tree. A warrior retrieves it for him and he begins to twirl it again and again. Spinning it faster and faster. Anya growls and pulls out her bow. Body full with adrenaline she sharpens her arrows and checks the tautness of her string. She stares at Tristen with hatred. How could the Commander send him here. She had this under control. She was going to attack yesterday but then Tristen had come.

Hours pass again and Lincoln motions that it is time to go. "Alright, let's move out, we have a few hours until dark falls. Lets cover as much ground as we can. We're almost there. Don't give up." They rise without argument and pack everything up. They eat and drink. They move out without question or complaint. Fear makes them move. They don't want to be caught by the grounders. Finn picks up the front of Raven's stretcher and another boy grabs the back half. He lifts and Raven smiles apologetically at him. He smiles tiredly but shrugs. They move out silently. Tired, worn and scared.

Back at grounder camp Clarke continues to dig, she has a hole around the pole, maybe a foot deep. She wiggles the pole and grins as it comes loose from the ground. She pulls up and shoves with all her strength. It gives with a loud ringing sound as it hits the ground. She pulls the chain free from it and uses the bone to rip through the fabric of the tent as the flap opens. She takes off running, carrying the chain. She bumps into a kid, dropping the chain. The kid glares at her before she shoves past him, eyes taking in the camp around her. Looking for an exit she breaks into a run again. She scrambles up the fence and has a leg swung over when she is jerked down harshly. Her body collides with the ground as the chain breaks open the skin on her wrists from being jerked harshly. She grunts as all the air is forced from her lungs. Her head hits the ground with a dull thump and blackness surrounds her vision as the warrior drags her to the tent by her chained wrists. He doesn't look amused as he pounds a stake into the ground, then tieds her feet together. He loops a rope around another pole as he pushes her back against it. It looks uncomfortable, her hands pulled tightly down in front of her, legs folded under her and chest constricted by the rope binding her to the pole. Her head lolls to the side in unconsciousness and the warrior grunts as he sits down, watching her breathing to be sure she doesn't die. Anya would have his head.

Hours later as the sun is vanishing Clarke wakes up. Her eyes blink in confusion and she pulls at her wrists. They burn in pain and her legs are twinging in pain at the uncomfortable position. She eyes the warrior who nods and leaves the tent. Her head throbs as she blinks. She pulls against the rope binding her to another pole and sighs when she can't move an inch. She grunts as she pulls harder but all it does is tighten the rope. Her chin drops to her chest as angry tears burn her eyes. Her people are being slaughtered right now and there is nothing she can do.

Close to the ocean Bellamy's group trudge along. They been walking for almost an entire day. They had a three hour rest stop but that is still almost 22 hours of walking. Lincoln looks to them before falling back to talk to Bellamy. "Fifteen more hours of not stopping and we will be at the sea."

"Can they handle fifteen more hours?" Bellamy's voice is gruff.

"We rested for three hours back there, if they stay hydrated we can walk for eight hours then at dawn we can stop for another three. That will leave eight more hours of walking until we reach the sea. Until we reach safety."

"They have been walking for twenty-two hours. We left camp exactly a day ago. Seventy five miles is a good distance."

"We must make it to the sea. My people, if they catch our trail they will hunt us down. Horses run faster than we walk. The false horse trail will hopefully give us a few hours until they realize their mistake but we must keep moving. Even resting for three hours is pushing it."

Bellamy nods and clenches his jaw. "We are almost there! Let's keep moving, if we slow down the grounders will catch us. The sea is safety. Keep moving, I know you can do this. Dig deep!" His people nod in agreement, some look exhausted and others limp, blisters forming on their feet." He stares down at the radio, Raven had said they only had a hundred yard radius. He looks to her, she is awake and talking softly to the boy who is carrying her. He looks to Finn and sees the guilt buried in the boys eyes. He swallows and his eyes take in the remaining of the hundred. It begins to rain and Lincoln grins. "What the hell are you smiling at."

"It is about to storm, the rain will erase our footsteps." Lincoln smirks before he turns serious eyes to them. "This doesn't mean we stop. We keep moving." Bellamy nods and his eighty-three people slump their shoulders in resignation as they continue walk.

The grounders pound on drums as they draw closer and closer to the camp. Rain begins to pound at their backs and grounders grin in triumph. Rain equals difficult visibility for long distance shooters. Murphy is dragged behind a horse, bloodied and panting. They listen to the radio. All they get is static. Tristen glares at the boy. "I thought you said they communicate with these!"

Murphy flinches. "They do! Maybe they figured out that I stole one." Tristen backhands him and growls.

He turns to his troops. "Run and get them to use their bullets! They have very few." His men do as they're told and nothing happens. His scouts drop down beside him. "Report." His voice is low and Anya stands near him, face annoyed.

The scouts nod. "Nothing, no movement. The fire went out around midday. They have to be hiding in the ship, they haven't moved at all."

Murphy furrows his eyebrows in confusion. Tristen growls lowly in his throat, annoyed. "You three, go check it out!" Three men nod and take off through the trees. It takes them five minutes before they come running back.

The first man swallows. "Nothing. The camp is empty."

"Empty!" He pulls his knife out and stabs Murphy in the leg. He howls in pain and Tristen paces. "They left! Find a trail!" They search until they find wagon and horse tracks, slowly turning to mud. "Lincoln! That traitor helped them escape!"

Anya glares at him. "I told you we should have attacked yesterday! Now the rain will aid their escape!" He stalks towards her and shoves her back. She ducks his fist and slams her own into his face. He goes to slice at her with a knife but she dodges. She twist and turns out of the way of his anger filled attacks. Finally he manages to catch her in the side and she slams the middle of her bow into the side of his head. It bleeds and he blink as the world spins. She stands ready to fight when they hear whooping. They turn and hear hoofbeats. A broken wagon trails behind a panting horse as reapers chase it. "REAPERS!" Anay voice is loud and they move to attack.

As the reapers attack them the arc comes crashing down into the ground, far away. Anya looks up at it before fighting another reaper. No one knew where it had landed, the night and rain hiding its location. Two more pieces of the arc crash into the ground miles from the other larger piece. Anya shoots and stabs reapers, watching as her men and woman kill them. Tristen struggles against one and his own warrior saves him. Finally the threat neutralized Anya sheaths her knife. She turns to Tristen. "You can tell the Commander how you failed. The Commander will get a report from me as well. Pray that you are given mercy." She looks to the trail, it was gone, the fight and rain erasing the evidence.

Tristen spits blood on the ground and limps to his horse. He pulls out a knife and moves to Murphy. Anya tilts her head. "Stop." Tristen looks at her with a glare. "Your prisoner is now mine, I get him now that I defeated you."

"You defeated me?!" Tristen spits at her, anger evident on his face.

"I won our battle, you were rendered useless. Your second had to save you from a reaper. I get your prizes and he is mine now, you're lucky I don't take your warriors as well. I will let the Commander decide that."

He growls and cuts the rope. He shoves Murphy into the mud and climbs on his horse. His warriors follow him, picking up their dead. Anya's own warriors look to her in pride. "Search the camp for supplies. We leave for our camp after that." Her eyes turn to Murphy. "You will tell me all you know about those who just landed and their powers."

"What do I get from giving you information?" He limps as he ties a red cloth around his injured leg.

"I let you live another day. If you don't give me answers I will make what Tristen did seem like child's play." Anya stares into his eyes and Murphy sighs.

"They have more guns than you can imagine. There were thousands of them on the arc." He wipes blood from his nose. "They're also super justified. They sent us down here to die because we were prisoners. But if you attack them they will kill you. They're ruthless. Any crime in the sky was punishable by death."

"Why were you prisoners then?"

"Because we were under the age of eighteen. They caged us until we were eighteen then they killed us." He scowls as he wipes more blood from his face.

"Why should I believe you?"

He shifts on his feet. "Did you see the lights in the sky the other day. Hundreds of them?" She nods. "Those were people. They killed them. They're just a bunch of self-righteous bastards."

She nods, eye thoughtful before her people come back with arms fully of supplies. "Let's move out, camp is a five mile walk." They begin to head back. Murphy trailing behind Anya limping but keeping up as the warriors glare when he falls back or gets to close to their leader.

On the pieces of the Arc all is silent, the passengers all unconscious. Thelonious calls for them but receives no reply. He waits and waits, voice growing gruff with emotion as he only receives silence in return. Abby Griffin is slumped against Cain, blood dripping from a gash on her head. No one moves, silence the only thing. No more hum from the Arc.

An hour later and the grounders make it to their camp. Anya sees the pole laying out of the tent. The warrior he posted nods to her and she hands Murphy off to one of her trusted. "Take him to the other pole." Clarke hears the voice vaguely. Her head throbs and lolls to the side as she blinks her heavy eyes open. She can just make out Anya's voice. "What happened?" Her voice fades and is replaced by the Grounder language. Clarke hears familiar words but her mind is foggy. Anya comes in the door and looks over the girl. "You tried to escape."

Clarke looks to Anya bleeding and soaking wet with rain. "Where are my people?"

"Gone, you don't need to ask about them anymore." Clarke scream in anger and lurches against her bonds.

She struggles and Anya watches with amusement and curiosity. "I hope they killed your warriors. I wish they had killed you!"

Anya strike out with her hand, slapping Clarke across the face. Clarke glowers at her as her lip bleeds. "My warriors are all alive, but they need tending to. You will heal them."

"I'd rather die than heal one of you!" Clarke stares Anya down.

"Then we will kill the prisoner from your camp." Clarke's eyes widen and she lurches forward. "I will let you help him after you help my warriors." She unties the rope and pulls the chain out of the ground. She tugs on it and Clarke follows. Eyes filling with black spots. She stumbles and Anya looks to her. Clarke follows and Anya opens a tent flap. "This is the healer's tent. The bottles are labeled." Clarke nods and sits down. "I will send them in based on injury."

"You're bleeding, don't I need to stitch you up?"

"My warriors come first." Anya leaves through the flap and Clarke stares at it with confusion before the first one comes in. The man holds a cloth to his head as blood pours out of it.

She removes it and winces. "Do you have any alcohol?" The man points behind her and she grabs the bottle. She smells it and winces. Pure moonshine. She pours it on a cloth and dabs at the gash. "I need to stitch this up. There isn't anything to numb the pain."

"I don't need anything to numb it." The man's voice is devoid of emotion and she cleans his cut with hot water brought to her by a small boy, then moonshine. He doesn't wince a single time as she stitched him up. He pulls up his shirt and she sees the stab wound. She begins to work and soon her mind goes numb. She can't count how many she treated within the few hours but none had gunshot wound. All were ragged knife wounds or arrow wounds. She finishes with the last person, a woman with a sword wound to the thigh.

She wipes her hands on a cloth as Anya comes in. The woman looks around. "Are you done with my warriors?"

"That was the last of them." Clarke's eyes look over Anya, seeing only a wound to her side. "Do you want me to stitch that?"

"Burn or stitch. I don't care." Clarke sighs but pours moonshine on it. "What is that for?"

"It kills any bacteria, keeps the wound from getting infected. Usually we use scrubbing alcohol but we don't have that down here." Clarke begins to stitch the wound her face tight and full of hate and sadness. "I would like to see the boy from my camp after this."

"He needs to be treated, I can't interrogate him if he is dead." Anya's voice is steel. Clarke nods and ties the last stitch. Anya whistles and Clarke sees the jeans and jacket something tugs at the back of her mind but his face is covered.

They rip the hood off and Murphy's bloodied face greets her. "Princess."

"Murphy." Her voice is a growl and she fights the urge to hit him.

Anya looks between them. "Heal him."

Clarke glares at him. "Why are you here Murphy, where are the others?"

"Gone. The asshole Tristen caught me. The others are gone, no trace of them." He limps forward and falls into the chair, hands bound. "So, wanna stitch me up?"

She looks over him. "Why were you captured?" She stares at him and he sighs.

"Because i'm an asshole, I already lost a lot of blood. I'd rather not die Princess." He tosses his hair out of his eyes, it sticks to his face, full of dirt and blood.

"I'd rather our people be alive."

He shrugs. "It's just you and me now."

She moves forward and cleans his wounds he winces as she cleans his face. He needs three stitches above his eye. She begins to clean his leg, cuts the jean leg back to get a better look. She presses her fingers into it harshly. He screams and the warrior who brought him in steps forward. Anya shakes her head, watching the two sky people closely. "Why are you the only one here?"

He tries to jerk away and she digs her fingers in. "Clarke! Stop! Fuck." He pants and he looks to her steely eyes. "Okay! OKAY! I killed that kid Miles, he tied the noose. But he was dying anyway, you were gone and he had two poisoned arrows in him."

"He was still alive when we left him?" Clarke's voice breaks, she remember Finn trying to get her to leave him and being captured by Anya's men. The same thing happened to Jasper, they thought he was dead but he was alive and suffering.

"Yeah, Bellamy brought him to camp." He pants. "Jasper. Jasper saw me." She digs her fingers into his leg and he moans and thrashes, trying to jerk away. "I didn't hurt him! Fuck. I traded him for Bellamy but the door opened and Octavia saved him before I could kill him. I blew out the side of the dropship and ran. Tristen caught me sometime in the middle of the night." She clenches her fist and he groans before she pulls her hand away. "Bellamy deserved it, he kicked the box out from under me. You all watched me hang there! I didn't do anything!" His eyes are wild and Clarke feels guilt and anger eat away at her.

She pulls at her hair as the grounder leader and warrior watch them. "Bellamy wanted to keep it quiet, he said crowds make bad decisions, I didn't listen. He wanted to stop it but he let being approved by them get to his head." She blinks. "I am sorry Murphy, we banished you because you went against Bellamy and tried to kill Charlotte while holding a knife to my throat. It was the only option."

He sighs. "It wasn't, I was angry! They tried to kill me and then that bitch gets away with it. Just because she was cute, but everyone was fine with me dying."

"I am sorry Murphy, I hope you see that some day and I hope you feel remorse one day."

He swallows, tears in his eyes. "Remorse is for losers." She sighs and stitches his leg. He flinches as she finishes and then the warrior takes him out.

"He threatened to kill you." Anya looks to the tent flap. "Your people are more ruthless than I thought."

Clarke huffs but doesn't say anything as she packs up the supplies. Anya steps forward and grabs the chains. "I need to clean my wounds before you stick those back on." Anya waits and watches as Clarke cleans and wraps her wrists. Anya then steps forward and tightens the chain. Looping it around, hugging the cloth Clarke had put on her wrist. "Kinda tight."

"You won't escape." Anya grabs the chain and leads Clarke to her tent. She chains her to a boulder this time. "My warriors brought this from the prisoner hold." She locks the chain to a metal loop buried in the rock. "You can't dig this out." The pole that had been in the tent was removed and the hole covered again with dirt. Clarke slumps against the rock and despite her efforts she passes out, her body exhausted.

Hours pass by and the sun creeps over the horizon. Clarke is still slumped into the rock. Anya resting on her pads and Murphy tied to a pole in the open. He is sitting, legs sprawled out, hands tied behind his back as he sleeps. The warriors wake as the sun rises. They begin to work around the camp and Murphy awakes with a jolt, feeling eyes on him. Two little kids are staring at him, they look to be around six. They murmur together in their own language and Murphy sighs. "What?" They pull a stick out and one of them pokes Murphy in the stomach. He lunges forward with a growl. "Get back here you little shits!" He pulls against the pole but nothing happens. "Thats right run!"

"You picking on little kids?" The voice is gruff and Murphy glares up at the bear of a man.

"They poked me with a stick." Murphy huffs out.

The man tilts his head as another man comes running up, anger evident. The bear of a man watches with a raised eyebrow as the man punches Murphy in the face repeatedly. The man does nothing until the other pulls out a knife. He finally speaks. "Anya said no one was to touch him."

"He tried to attack my children." The man sheaths the knife with a glare in Murphy's direction.

The man shrugs. "They poked him. Tell Anya that, she's on her way here."

Murphy pants and spits blood on the ground. "Your mom hits harder than that."

The man lunges forward again and kicks Murphy in the side. Murphy grunts and waits for the next, only to have the man ripped away. Clarke stands in front of him, having shoved the man back. The man glares at her before punching her across the face, hard. She falls to her knees and he kicks her. She rolls away from the next kick and Anya grabs the man. She kicks him behind his knees until he is kneeling. Clarke wipes at her mouth as she sits up, chains clinking as they bump together. Murphy leans forward as Clarke leans back. She turns to look at him and he nods. She nods back. "I thought I told no one to touch my prisoners?"

"He tried to attack my kids." The man growls out, glaring at Murphy.

The bear of a man speaks. "The children poked him with a stick, he lunged. They ran." He shrugs.

Anya tilts her head. "You let this happen?"

"You said to see how it played out. I waited for you." The man straightens his back.

Anya glares down at the man below her. "You know what happens when I am disobeyed." She turns to the bear man. "Raid, you know what to do." The man nods and disappears.

Anya ties his arms above him, he doesn't struggle. Just glares. Soon an audience is behind them. "He disobeyed me. The rules are ten lashing for every broken rule." She looks to Murphy. "He struck the girl two times and the boy six. That is call for eighty lashes." She stands behind them. And slings the whip down. Her hand moves quickly and the man clenches his teeth together at the first strike. His six year old daughter and son watch with wide eyes. Clarke flinches after first hit and Murphy pants as he struggles to breath through a broken nose. Clarke stares at the grounders, they seem unfazed by this. Murphy keeps panting and Clarke brings her hands forward to pinch the bridge of his nose. He breaths through his mouth, taking in lungfuls of air, teeth bloodied.