May We Meet Again
Chapter 1
Mitchsen
Rating: M

"Beca, I want you as my second." The thirteen-year-old Grounder blinked once. Then again, looking up at her chief.

"Me? Why me?" The brunette asked. Kommissar sat down next to her clan mate.

"Beca, you've been dealt a horrible hand in your life. I'm sorry about your parents. But you and I both know they died true Trikru warriors. Our war against Azgeda will not last forever. But I promise you, jus drein, jus daun. You will get your revenge before the end." Beca stiffened at the mention of her parents.

Her parents had died when she was only eight years old. They were both sent out on a raid against the Ice Nation, but it had been a trap. A small comfort to Beca was knowing that it was quick. They had been given a warrior's death, not strung up and tortured to prove a point to Trikru. Growing up a Grounder, Beca knew death. She knew that her parents might never come home, even as a youngling.

So when her chief had entered her tent that fateful day, a solemn look on her face, Beca knew. Her parents had been childhood friends with their chief, whom everyone called Kommissar. Very few knew her true name and those that did still called her Kommissar or simply chief out of respect. It was on the same day that Beca started down her path to becoming a Trikru warrior.

Most cultures would find the young age of eight to be far too young to start training as a hardened warrior. But Grounder culture revolved around survival. Their warriors were the most revered individuals, the Commander being at the top of the chain of command. But very few had close contact with the Commander. He spent most of his time in Polis training the Nightbloods, Grounders who bled black. The chosen few that would eventually enter into the Conclave and one of whom would become the next Commander when he died.

But Beca felt a fury inside her. She wanted to make Azgeda pay for the deaths of her parents. Of her people. Her clan was her family. Family was important to the Grounders. At the end of the day, all they had was their own life and the lives of their family. She would make Azgeda answer for all the lives they took. She would make them bleed. So she began her training as a warrior.

For the next five years, Beca trained hard. And she picked it up faster than most. She became somewhat of a legend in her clan. She learned the art of war faster than anyone ever had. Some of the clan attributed it to her drive to seek blood for her parents. Others thought she might have been blessed by the spirit of the Commander, favored by it. She bled red but fought with a ferocity only mirrored the Commander himself.

"Beca, you are the only one worthy to be my second. You know this. You are young, but you are gifted. The spirit of the Commander surrounds you." Kommissar pushed Beca. The young brunette nodded.

"Ok." Kommissar placed a hand on Beca's shoulder. "You also need this." She said, handing Beca a bow she had in her other hand. The young Grounder reached out for it, her eyes widening, realizing what it was.

"You can't…" The chief pushed the bow into Beca's hands.

"I am the chief, and I can Beca. You are, at the young age of thirteen, one of, if not the most capable archer in our clan." The young Grounder wrapped her small hands around the grip, pulling back the string with her other. Kommissar had given Beca her old friend Lexa's bow. Everyone knew the story.

Lexa was a Trikru Nightblood. She and Beca were around the same age and had done some training together before Lexa left. They had become childhood friends. She had been sent to Polis a couple of years prior. The Nightblood had only been allowed to bring a single weapon from her home clan to Polis and she had chosen her knife, leaving her bow with the chief with the promise that it would be given to the strongest of their archers to protect their people.

And now Kommissar had chosen that archer in Beca. The Grounder grabbed the bow by the grip, pulling the string back. It felt good in her hand, natural. Beca favored the bow above all other weapons, like her best and closest friend Jesse favored the spear. "Thank you, chief. I'll make you proud." Beca vowed. Kommissar nodded.

"I'm sure you will. Now tonight, we present you as my second and we feast." Beca nodded as Kommissar left her tent so Beca could ready herself. It gave Beca a head start in being the second that most of the clan already respected her. Sometimes seconds had to prove themselves to the clan. But Beca had started her warrior training earlier than most children in their clan. Even most of the men in her clan respected her abilities. Of course, there was a number who resented the young Grounder, but they knew better than to challenge her.

Beca strapped her favorite knife to her arm. It was one of the weapons her father had given her before he was killed. The handle was hand carved, their clan symbol perfectly drawn into the wood. The blade, Beca always made sure was sharp. Her father had always expected her to follow in her parent's footsteps and become a warrior. He ground it into her early that a dull blade was a useless blade.

"Keep your blade sharp Beca. A dull blade will get you killed."

Beca ran her hand over the etching, her memories going back to life before her parents had been killed. As a child, Beca had actually been a quite peaceful Grounder all things considering. Though her father had always held out hope that his daughter would eventually grow into the warrior he envisioned her to be. He often took his child out on hunting trips with him. Teaching his daughter to survive in the wild.

Beca had the skills, but not the fire of a warrior. But when her parents were killed, it lit that fire within her. Grounder culture dictated jus drein, jus daun, blood must have blood. And after that, she dedicated her life to her training. Kommissar had taken her in like her own daughter, for which Beca was extremely grateful. The chief had cared for Beca, allowed the young Grounder to work out her anger and hurt. And now her hard work was going to pay off. She was going to become Kommissar's second.

It was a lot of responsibility to be sure, especially for a thirteen-year-old, but Beca was up to the task. She was practically groomed for this. When she started her training, she had been pushed harder and punished harsher than everyone else; at her own request. In her mind, becoming the warrior her father would have wanted was something to honor his memory, his sacrifice. He, along with her mother would have been proud of their daughter for becoming the clan's second. If only they were alive to see it.

Beca sighed, shoving the knife into its holster that was strapped around her arm. Pulling on her boots, her mind drifted elsewhere. To the first time she had laid her hands on a bow. The instant that Beca picked up the small training bow, it felt natural to her. Granted it took her some time to build up the strength to shoot off arrow after arrow, but it didn't take her long. It felt right in her hands.

And with her chief giving her Lexa's bow, it only solidified her place in the clan. The Nightblood had made their chief promise that her bow would only be given to the best in the clan, to protect their people. A childhood friend of Beca, Lexa leaving had saddened the Grounder. They had gone through training together before Lexa was summoned to Polis to be trained by the Commander. Beca knew how the process worked. She'd most likely never see her friend again. Lexa would either become the next Heda when the current one died, or she would be killed. It was the way of the Commander.

Beca sat down on her bed, rubbing her kill mark on her shoulder blade. She had been hiding in the trees, waiting for anAzgeda raiding party to cross their border. The minute one of them had stepped intoTrikru territory, Beca had let loose an arrow and it hit its mark, right between the warrior's eyes. Jesse had also been with her, both of them on their first mission. Both of them had earned their kill marks that day. That day they had both been honored as trueTrikru warriors. They were both only twelve at the time.

A little while later, Beca figured she was done wallowing in her memories, so she exited her tent to run right into Jesse. "Hey, Beca!" The Grounder said brightly. Beca smiled genuinely, happy to see her friend.

Jesse was another Grounder, about the same age as Beca. They grew up together and when Beca began training as a warrior, Jesse followed her down that path. She wasn't sure where she would be without him. He had been her rock since her parents had died. Kommissar was like her mother, but there were things that she hadn't wanted to talk about with her, for fear of looking weak.

But with Jesse, there were no such restraints. She shared all her insecurities and worries with the young Grounder. And Jesse always stuck by his friend. Going as far to follow her down the warrior's path. Beca knew that Jesse had never aspired to be a warrior, but when he saw his best friend begin the journey, he willingly followed.

"Jesse, hey. What's up?" She questioned. Jesse grinned.

"I hear congratulations are in order?" Beca laughed, slapping him on the shoulder.

"You're not supposed to know that yet! Not until tonight." Jesse rubbed a spot where Beca had hit him.

"Ouch Beca, I see you're keeping up with your strength training." Beca scoffed.

"Stop being such a baby. But yeah, I guess." Beca said, with a shrug. Jesse rest a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Hey, this is a big deal. Kommissar is finally choosing her second. And that's you. You've been training your ass off for the last five years and this is the payoff." Jesse said, looking into his friend's deep blue eyes

"Yeah, I guess I'm just worried about messing up," Beca said with a sigh. Jesse shook his head.

"You know no one expects you to be perfect immediately Beca. The clan respects you. The spirit of the Commander is with you." Beca nodded hesitantly. She had long been skeptical of that line of thinking. She never felt like she was blessed by the spirit of the Commander. Sure, she took to the hardened life of a warrior faster than nearly anyone, but she attributed that to her stubborn nature and drive to avenge her parents and protect her clan. But she, like all other Grounders, revered the Commander. It was an honor to even be considered to have his blessing.

She and Jesse had discussed her talent for the art of war intimately one night a long time ago. She knew that Jesse believed that his best friend was gifted. That the Commander's spirit looked favorably upon her. He believed that Beca would have been a great warrior regardless, but her gift allowed her mastery faster than most. Beca was already a better archer than some of the seasoned archers in the clan who had been fighting against Azgeda for years.

"You're right. I just… this is what my parents would have wanted for me. And finally being here, it's like I'm finally honoring their memory." Jesse smiled, pulling his small friend in for a hug.

"I know you miss them Beca. Everyone does. But they would be proud of you, I'm sure of that. Hell, they'd be proud of you even if you ended up being a healer instead." Beca snorted as she wrapped her arms around Jesse, returning the hug.

"I doubt that but thanks for trying." Jesse laughed, releasing his friend.

"Sure thing Beca. You're my best friend, it's my job to make you feel better." Beca nodded.

"And you know I'm here for you right?" Beca asked. Jesse also nodded.

"Of course, I do," Beca smiled. She had no idea what her life would be like without her clan. Her family.

That night, Kommissar gathered the clan in front of the fire. "Trikru, tonight, we recognize and celebrate our new second, Beca kom Trikru!" She announced to those gathered, before gesturing to Beca who stood and faced her fellow Grounders. There were cheers that could be heard throughout the forest and Beca thought that they might be heard all the way in Polis. The men raised their fists in the air, a sign of respect for Beca and their chief. "Beca has trained for five years for this moment. As you all know, she lost her parents to Azgeda."

There were angry shouts at the mention of the Ice Nation. One man yelled out "Azgeda will pay!" Kommissar raised her hand for silence. "Since then she has trained and fought amongst our clan's warriors with ferocity and skill only rivaled by that of the Commander himself. She is ready to take her place by my side as my second. And eventually as leader of this clan!" Kommissar said proudly.

Jesse cheered for his best friend as Beca stood before their clan. "Ai laik Beca kom Trikru en ai gonplei gon jus." Beca said before pumping her own fist in the air to join the men and women who had already done so. Those that hadn't, joined Beca, uniting behind the young Grounder second.

Kommissar stood to Beca's side. "Tonight we honor Beca kom Trikru, we feast in her honor!" The clan cheered while Beca looked on, a stoic look on her face. Even as a thirteen-year-old, Beca understood. Her life was going to change dramatically from this point forward. Jesse approached his friend.

"You okay?" He asked curiously. Beca snapped out of her thoughts to look at her friend.

"Yeah, sorry. My mind is all over the place right now. Let's just go join the others." Jesse nodded, heading into the main hall, Beca right on his heels. As Beca entered the hall, there were claps and cheers for the young Grounder. Beca wasn't used to being in the spotlight like this, so she just waved awkwardly.

Jesse noticed that Beca had stopped in her tracks, so he turned around to stand behind Beca, giving her a push towards the seat next to Kommissar that was now hers. Beca looked at Jesse before heading for the empty seat at her chief's side. Kommissar nodded at Beca, gesturing to the chair next to her that had long remained empty.

Beca pulled it out from the table, before sitting down. She could feel all the eyes present, watching her, evaluating her. She got the feeling that some of the men were sizing her up. She was respected in the clan, but there were a few who believed that Beca was unnaturally talented and she had heard rumors via Jesse that some of the believe she was cheating her training somehow.

That had infuriated Beca. So much so that she started training ten times harder than her already difficult training regime dictated. Jesse had been so concerned for his friend that he had asked the chief to talk to her.

"Beca, Jesse is worried about you. And I am as well if I'm honest." Kommissar said, pulling Beca aside after combat training one day.

"What's there to be worried about? I'm training, just like everyone else. And Jesse should learn to butt out." The Trikru chief sighed.

"I know you are Beca. But you push yourself too hard, you're going to burn yourself out before you're out of your teenage years. And don't be angry at him. He's just worried." Beca huffed.

"I can do this. I can keep up." The ten-year-old insisted. Kommissar chuckled.

"Beca, some of these warriors are nearly three to four times your age. No one expects you to keep up." She said, placing a hand on Beca's shoulder to comfort the young Grounder. "You are still young. I know you are eager to avenge your parents and honor their sacrifice, but your place in our ranks will always be here Beca. You have been learning and excelling at a rate that I've never seen in a warrior before. You have nothing to prove to anyone."

"But some of the men think I'm cheating my way through. How can I be a true Trikru warrior if they don't respect me?" Kommissar got down on one knee in front of Beca.

"Listen Beca, I understand your concerns. But pushing yourself to the brink of collapse isn't going to prove anything. Except perhaps that you don't know your own limits. You train harder than most of your age and all your hard work will pay off. I promise you that. But don't kill yourself with training before you get there." Beca sighed but nodded in agreement. She had understood what her chief was getting at. All the training didn't matter if she was too exhausted to use it.

So Beca, much to Jesse and Kommissar's relief, backed off a bit. She pushed her limits, but not so far as to where she was nearly killing herself. And now here she sat, next to her chief, in front of their clan. Kommissar had been right, her hard work had paid off. But it wouldn't be for another eight years that she would learn how easily everything could change. And potentially fall apart around her.

A/N: I apologize straight off about the obscenely long author's note. They're not all this long, but there are a number of things you need to know before diving into this story.

So first off, hello! New Mitchsen story. I'm well aware I need to finish my Bechloe story, but my inspiration for that is just so poopy right now, that I couldn't. I do feel the slightest bit guilty for doing this before that, but I couldn't help it.

Also, I was going to wait until I was finished with the entire story before uploading this, but I'm an impatient person. What can I say? That being said, I do have the first eleven chapters already written and will be updating twice a week; Tuesdays and Saturdays.

I do want to preface this story with a few things, so please read through all of it so you know what you're getting into.

Trigger warnings include character death, major and minor, descriptions of torture, possibly thoughts of self-harm and suicide though those are not directly tackled. And of course a ton of violence. Please note that I do not include these things lightly. I understand that many people feel uncomfortable with many of these triggers and if you feel like this isn't a story you want to read, please don't. Also, I will be treating the character deaths with as much respect as I can. I do not kill off characters lightly.

In the interest of full disclosure and to avoid baiting, Clexa will not be a pairing here. Lexa is a character in my story, however, Skaikru is entirely made up of Pitch Perfect characters. There are some Grounders that transfer over because this story will mostly focus on the Grounders, rather than the delinquents.

Also, note that while Trigedasleng is used in the story, most of the interactions will be in English for readability sake, even when Grounders are communicating with other Grounders when otherwise they would be speaking in their native language. Also, I refer to them as Grounders in the story, but they do not refer to themselves as Grounders in interactions.

Translations are as follows (grammar may be unintentionally incorrect):

Jus drein, jus daun - Blood must have blood

Ai laik Beca kom Trikru en ai gonplei gon jus - I am Beca of the Woods Clan and I fight for blood.

I hope everyone enjoys this story. This is perhaps my most ambitious project yet. And while I do hope that I do everything justice, I'm still only human. I do make mistakes. If anyone sees any problems with the 100 universe, please don't hesitate to let me know. I do not watch or follow the show religiously like others. I simply enjoy the premise of the show and saw such a potential for a Pitch Perfect fan fiction for which I specialize my writing on.

Thank you all for checking this out and I'm looking forward to providing you all with a story to enjoy.

A Charmed Vampire