7. Situation Normal

Harper clutched tightly to Raven, repeating her name over and over. She willed Raven to hear her pleas with every fiber of her being. "Raven! Raven, please, listen to me, it's going to be ok, Raven. Raven we have to go down there, we have to help everyone!" Harper tried her best not to let her voice rise to a desperate screech as she spoke right against Raven's ear.

Something she said must have at last gotten through, for Raven seemed able to take her own weight again. Confident that Raven wouldn't topple if she let go of her waist, Harper instead moved her hands to Raven's face and urged her to look away from the window and at her instead, "Our friends need our help," Harper repeated, sure that it was this fact that had brought Raven around.

Raven's eyes would have looked dead if not for the tears streaming from them. She sniffed loudly, the muscles in her face trembling under Harper's hands. "Help who, Harper?" she croaked out, "Look out there!" Raven jabbed a finger out, pointing beyond the window. She jerked away from Harper's grasp then, a sudden wave of grievous rage overtaking her, like a switch had been flicked inside her. Harper let Raven have at it. Awful as it was to think in such a way, her newfound anger would be of more use right now. "There won't be anyone left alive under that mess, Harper!" Raven screamed, "I did this!"

"No!" Harper protested, her hands balled into fists before her body as she fought the urge to chase Raven down and hold her again. "We can help those who are trapped. There are survivors already down there, Raven, listen!" Harper implored, and she paused then so that both of them could listen to the shouting and screaming coming from the camp. Her point proven, Harper spoke more gently; "This isn't your fault. That wreck was probably due to come down at any time," Harper reasoned.

Raven scowled and shook her head, "No," she hissed, "it came down now because I couldn't leave well enough alone."

Harper's body felt like it was on fire, desperate to get moving, to start helping. She knew she'd run out of time to reason with Raven and that only added to the bubbling frustration. She choked it all back down. "This isn't on you, Raven," Harper insisted. She took a breath and tried to measure her voice before she said the next part, "But if you stay up here screaming at me, rather than getting your ass down there to help, then anything that happens after this point will be."

An awful feeling of static filled the air once Harper had said her piece. She watched Raven's face contort into a snarl. Raven wheeled about, letting out a howl as she slammed both palms hard against the metal wall of the guardtower. The force made the hut vibrate all over again.

"Come on!" Raven growled out, showing no signs of having felt any pain even though she must have. "Let's get down there."

Harper puffed out a breath and nodded, and the pair of them rushed through the door and along the catwalk towards the ladder. When they reached it, Harper pushed herself in front and started to descend. When Raven followed, Harper surrounded Raven's body with her own, staying only one rung down so that she would be able to catch Raven's weight were her legs to fail her again. Thankfully, both of them made it to the bottom safely, and with her boots on the ground, Harper turned and took in her first look at the catastrophe from ground level.

Somehow, it looked even worse down on the ground. Or rather, it was worse because there was hardly anything to look at anymore. What had once been a reasonably impressive settlement to behold was now flattened. The main building was almost completely buried by the arch, and the toppled wreck of Alpha station had pulverized most of the right half of the settlement too. The garden and the food stores were gone, squashed beneath the twisted metal. Harper turned away from the disaster and began to move, hanging a left and pulling Raven along with her by the arm. Their footsteps squelched on the sodden grass, the precious stores from one of the water towers totally wasted.

Mercifully, the left side of the settlement was much less scathed. Though flying debris had taken out or otherwise damaged many of the outbuildings on that side, the falling arch had missed the areas close to the wall. It was there that Harper began to direct Raven, for a crowd of survivors had started to gather on the pitch, no doubt ready and waiting for orders on how to proceed.

"Harper! Raven!" Octavia's voice called out from behind.

Harper stopped and blinked Octavia into focus, realising that the sight of the wreck had put her into some kind of trance. "Octavia?" Harper tried. Her mouth fell open when she remembered what Octavia had been doing, "The children?"

"All fine," Octavia answered right away. "Thank fate I was teaching them outside the walls. What the hell happened?"

Harper's eyes widened and she shook her head, before cocking it towards Raven, who hadn't uttered another word since the tower. Harper saw Octavia gulp before she gave a nod, understanding that Harper was silently asking her to watch her words.

"We should go to the others," Octavia said, "I've told the kids to stay outside the walls. The older ones are in charge."

Harper agreed and let Octavia walk ahead, until she spied Monty picking himself up off the ground by one of of the wrecked storehouses. The one that once contained his moonshine equipment. Harper called to Octavia and momentarily passed care of Raven over to her, before rushing to Monty's side.

"Monty, are you alright?" Harper asked. Her friend looked dazed and was covered from head to foot in mud, but appeared otherwise unscathed.

Monty gave a nod, mouth agape. He peered all around as if still unsure what had actually happened. "There was this massive noise and then the building was collapsing on me. I just dived for the door, I don't even know how I-"

"Hey, it's ok," Harper soothed. She looped an arm around him shoulders and began to steer him towards the gathering of survivors. "You got out in time. Let's get you to the medics, alright. Get you checked over. I can think of one person who might jump at the chance," Harper tried to alleviate the mood with some gentle chiding. It didn't work.

As Harper reached the pitch and rejoined Octavia and Raven among the larger group, she finally found herself taking stock of what a sorry state everyone looked. And despite a steady influx of survivors arriving at the pitch, there were still enough people missing from the gathering to be alarming. Harper tried not to think too much about it, and focused instead on finding someone with medical knowledge. She spied Dr Griffin kneeling on the grass and immediately marched forward, bringing Monty along with her. Raven followed behind, as keen as Harper was to make sure their friend got the help he needed.

"Doc, Monty needs checking over for possible concussion-" Harper announced, though she grew quiet as she realised that Abby was kneeling over a person and checking their pulse. Harper watched, her heartbeat quickening as if trying to beat both for herself and the person on the ground. It was only when Abby pulled her hand back from the person's neck that Harper realised that checking for life had been somewhat futile. It wasn't a person anymore, but a body. A body of one of the Trikru healers, with a sharp spike of metal embedded in their skull. Harper felt her stomach roll and she turned away, sickened both by the grisly sight and the small voice in her head that said; at least it isn't Raion.

"I'm afraid if he isn't bleeding, Monty is going to have to wait his turn," Abby answered Harper's request at last as she stood up.

"I'm really ok," Monty insisted now. "I want to help. We need to start the rescue efforts," he urged.

Harper gave a noise of agreement and looked to Abby expectantly.

"Where's the Chancellor?" Abby asked.

Harper was about to shrug when Chancellor Sinclair's voice rang out, "Right here," he said, approaching from behind the Doctor. He was holding his jacket up to his head, the fabric already stained with blood. "It's not serious," he explained when met with three concerned glares. "A glancing shot of debris."

"Still, you are likely concussed, Chancellor. Sit down and keep pressure on that wound and I'll-" Abby started to take charge, only to be interrupted.

"Doc, I've already got a team ready to start the rescue efforts. If you and the healers set up a triage here on the pitch, I'll get some people to try to make their way through what's left of the main building and into the medbay, salvage what supplies we can for you," Octavia barked the words out as she marched forwards.

Harper actually felt herself holding back a smirk as she saw Abby and Octavia stare one another down for a second, before Abby nodded her assent.

"Good work, Octavia."

"What do you want me to do?" Harper asked, realising that the pitch had already started to empty out as people got to their assigned tasks. Octavia had worked quickly.

"You and Raven are going to dig out the rover," Octavia said. "If it's still in working condition, we'll need it to fetch help."

"What? No, I want to help digging out survivors," came Raven's voice, and she hunched herself forward and got up in Octavia's face as she spoke. The passion in her protest startled Harper after Raven had been silent for so long.

"Everyone else will be doing that," Octavia snapped back, "we need to think ahead, to what we're going to do once everyone has been found. We've got nowhere sheltered to sleep and barely any supplies left, Raven. We will need to get help. Fast."

"Listen to teacher, Octavia is right," Harper urged. "Now come on, Raven, time to put our guns to use, yeah?"

Raven turned over her shoulder and met Harper's eyes. When no more protests came, Harper led the way, moving off the pitch and onto the dirt track. It was no less of a chore to walk over, thanks to the waterlogged surface and the smattering of debris both. As she picked her way over and around it, Harper noticed that the debris was actually starting to sink down into the mud. She gulped, realising that the same thing was likely happening to the whole wreck, and anyone trapped within.

"Everything's sinking." Raven had noticed the same thing.

"We have to hurry," Harper muttered, though it felt redundant to point out the obvious. The two of them picked up their pace and Harper had to actively pull her boots up from the gloopy track with each step.

"Can I just say," Raven murmured at Harper's side, "I'm glad I designed myself a leg that doesn't come off."

Harper snorted even as she felt a little perturbed that it had been Raven who'd made her laugh, and not the other way around, given the circumstances. Though adrenaline had clearly kicked in, Harper knew that Raven's mind was probably wracked with misplaced guilt. She wished she had the luxury of trying to help ease the burden, but there were other, more literal, weights that needed to be lifted first.

A group of rescuers were already working at what used to be the main entrance into the hangar and the main building of Arkadia, trying to prize the warped shape of the doors apart. The sight of them already hard at work spurred Harper on, and she jogged as best she could until she reached them, eager to lend her own arms to the task. That eagerness disappeared the instant she reached the group and saw exactly why they were in such a rush. Between a small gap in the doors, out stuck a bloody, motionless arm, whomever it belonged to crushed between the metal. Harper frowned. Her mind was racing but she was still capable of reasoning that a person should not have been this close to the main building, let alone trying to get inside. She shook the thoughts away and concentrated on offering what help she could, taking a strong grip on the ruined door that had fewer people tugging it. With a new set of arms, the group of survivors began to heave. Harper felt the door budge, once, twice, and then they managed to drag the metal apart.

Harper wasn't certain if it was she who cried out, or someone else, as the trapped body flopped unceremoniously to the floor. Harper didn't dare to look who it was. She didn't have to.

"It's Lois!" one of the men observed, his voice cracking, "Float. It's Lois. Where's Jonathan? The twins?"

Harper opened her mouth to answer, but a sob made it out first. "I think I saw him holding both of the babies on the pitch," Harper recalled.

A silence fell as the small group waited for someone other than themselves to volunteer to take the body to the pitch. To show Jonathan the dead mother of his children. The man who had identified her at last said, "I'll take her. Carry on with the doors. We need to make a path to the medbay," he said, "if it isn't too late. If anyone buried in this wreck will even need medical attention anymore."

Harper put a hand on the man's shoulder, "They will," she comforted, "Lois shouldn't have been in the building. Nobody else was as far as we know. There's a chance that people trapped under debris will make it. Don't lose hope," she urged, willing herself to heed the words as much as anyone else.

"We have to get these open enough to get the rover out," Raven said, reaching the doors. Harper saw fresh tears trail down Raven's cheeks as she watched Lois's body being carried past her.

"You heard your Engineering Chief." Harper coaxed the group back into action. "Keep going."

Keep going. The words rang in Harper's brain as she started tugging at the doors again, Raven joining in beside her. Despite the unexpected disaster that had befallen them, Harper was struck by just how quickly everyone had organised themselves and started the rescue operation. Harper reckoned that she and Raven had been back in the guardtower, unawares of what was about to happen, barely fifteen minutes ago. Really, it was no surprise that Arkadia responded so quickly. After all that had happened to them, they were all experts at responding to crisis by now. The notion wasn't comforting, though. It was tragic.

Miller grunted as he came to, aware that he'd been knocked unconscious by something but with no idea yet as to what could have happened. He opened his eyes slowly, struggling to part them, as if two great weights had been tied to his eyelids. Once his eyes were opened fully, Miller thought that the effort had been a waste, after all: wherever he was, it was pitch black.

The quiet around Miller was consuming, and as he breathed in deep lung fulls of air, he realised that he couldn't even hear his own heartbeat, like one normally would when surrounded by total silence. He might have panicked and thought he was already dead, if not for the sudden onset of deep throbbing pain in his head, blooming from the left side of his skull and spreading fire through his body. The fire awakened every other nerve ending and Miller let out a groan as he became aware that it was likely so dark because he was trapped underneath something. Slowly, Miller raised up his hands over his head, pushing them against whatever it was that pinned him to the floor. The offending object lifted off of his body and fell to the right side of Miller with a clatter.

With nothing crushing him anymore, Miller took a moment. His tongue scratched at the roof of his mouth, both totally dry. He stared up at the darkness, but, despite having nothing to focus his attention on, he was aware of the nauseating feeling of being unable to focus his vision. Still, he counted his breaths and tried to think. To remember where he had been before he'd ended up here.

The answer came like a flash, Miller picking inspiration out of the surrounding blackness. He'd been on the elevator platform, about to unload more metal panels from it. It was those panels that had fallen on top of him. And it was the wooden frame of the elevator that Miller was now trapped in. His head felt ready to burst as he deduced what had happened. The arch had come down on them. Despite Raven's flawless calculations, something had gone terribly wrong and the arch had collapsed. Miller felt himself spinning in place as a multitude of rapid thoughts occurred to him. He was lucky to be breathing, for one. If he hadn't been on ground level, he would have fallen with the arch. If he hadn't been standing on the platform, ensconced in the timber frame, he probably would have been crushed. Miller let out a strangled noise as his thoughts turned to Macallan on the other lift. As far as Miller knew, Macallan had still been up top when the arch fell.

Thinking about Macallan only lead to more despair. Miller wondered what state the camp was in, beyond his wooden prison. He wondered how many more people Arkadia had lost. He tried to console himself then, reminding himself that the main building had been evacuated. There should, there would, be people still in one piece out there. People who really needed to know that Miller was alive and stuck where he was, if Miller was to have any chance of getting out of the wrecked elevator.

He tried to shout only for his voice to crack painfully and fizzle to nothing. He cleared his throat forcefully, making it burn, before trying again.

"Help!" he managed. The single word felt like an entire soliloquy. Miller willed his mouth to start producing saliva again, to ease his parched throat, or else his voice would never reach far enough to be heard. Maybe it was useless, anyway. Surely nobody left in Arkadia would think that he had survived in such an extraordinary manner. Rescue efforts would not reach Miller's location for ages, if they bothered to venture this close to the point of collapse at all. Miller ground his teeth, cursing himself for giving into despair. He tried shouting again, this time a coarse, unintelligible scream. As he expelled his air supply, he became acutely aware that his voice sounded very, very strange. Not just because of the dryness of his mouth. The noises seemed distant and loud all at the same time. Miller halted his cries and instinctively reached a hand to each side of his face. Under his right palm, Miller felt nothing except for the skin of his own cheek. His left hand however, came into contact with something warm and sticky. Miller didn't need to see to know that it was blood. Following his stricken thought process through, Miller clamped his right hand over his right ear. He drew in a long breath and expelled it in another scream. Though he could still hear himself very faintly through his clamped right ear, through his bloodied left one Miller could hear nothing. He ceased shouting again and felt tears forming in his eyes.

"Shit," he cursed, without hope that it would make him feel any better. He shivered, his whole body trembling on the cracked wooden platform. Miller thought he might take to banging his fists against the surface instead of shouting, so that he didn't have to acknowledge his likely serious head injury. But no, Miller didn't dare use force. Too much could bring the rest of the wooden frame and whatever metal debris it was propping up crashing down on top of him. A choked sob wracked through Miller's body and he let the tears fall freely, despite knowing that it was a waste of precious water from his body.

We were so close, he thought. The voice in his head at least was it's usual volume. They had all been so close to achieving something extraordinary. Real homes for Arkadia. No more metal corridors. No more Ark in space, or on the ground. Dismantling the arch was supposed to have been the beginning of an amazing journey. Instead, it might finally have ruined them. Miller's tears came harder as he recalled his own plans once the work was done. He was going to move to the farm. He was going to live happily and quietly with Bryan at last, after both of them had waited for so long and already overcome some insurmountable odds against them. And you still will if you stop despairing and start screaming. The voice sounded again in Miller's head. His brain gave an excruciating throb with each syllable he thought. The voice was right though. Miller blinked rapidly, trying to fight the urge to just shut his eyes and slip back into unconsciousness. His arms came down from his face to his sides, palms flat on the wood to steady his body against the sensation of the whole world turning him about. He sucked as much oxygen into his lungs as he could, until they were over full and fit to burst in his chest, and then Miller screamed.

The white walls flashed past, smooth, curving unremarkably from floor to ceiling. Walking behind the official delegation, Clarke found herself staring at the back of Lexa's head. The Commander walked ahead, proceeded only by two Europan guards who led the way around the circular path. Clarke's eyes tracked the gentle movement of Lexa's braids with each step the Commander took. The journey from their quarters back up to the fourth floor of Chambre Centrale had been dull enough that the familiar, thick brown locks were the most interesting thing to look at. Although, Clarke did find herself occasionally staring daggers into the back of the steward walking immediately behind Lexa. She wished he would move to the side a little and present her with something genuinely entertaining to pay attention to. It wasn't like Clarke had to worry about appearing proper while stuck at the back of the procession. The only people walking behind her who might catch her staring were the guards, and it was their job to pretend not to notice such things. Still, her silent pleas to the steward went unheeded. She gave up, kept her eyes fixed on those bobbing brunette curls and let her mind wander.

Clarke's fingers itched with the memory of putting the braids into Lexa's hair when they had awoken. Braiding Lexa's mane into its formal style was an arduous, fiddly task, but one that was certainly a labor of love. Still, the fact that Clarke had completed the task without needing help from the handmaids to hurry the process, was a testament to how long she and Lexa and the rest of the entourage had been left to their own devices.

It was difficult to keep track of time with no sky and no sun. Judging by how well rested she felt, her sleep must have been a long one. And before that, she and Lexa had sat through the whole original Star Wars trilogy (it was Lexa who had insisted they continue both times). After getting up and dressed into their formal clothes ready for the next meeting, they'd been kept waiting long enough that when a knock had sounded at the door to their quarters it had startled Clarke and Lexa both.

The guards that had come to fetch them from their rooms had communicated with gestures and the odd learned word of gonasleng that they were to be followed, and so the entourage had gathered at last and obeyed, letting themselves be led back up to the floor that housed the Auditorium. Clarke had been surprised again when the guards had walked them past the room in which they'd met President Dominique yesterday, and now the procession slowed and came to a stop as the Europan guards halted them outside unassuming double doors that blended seamlessly into the walls around them.

Silent as ever, the guards took a door each and pulled them open, immediately motioning for the entourage to enter. Clarke stood still, waiting her turn and finally sneaking a peek at Lexa's hypnotizing saunter as the Commander led her people into the mystery room. The stewards followed behind her, then the handmaids. Clarke moved next and, as she paced through the doors and took in the new surroundings, tried and failed to keep her mouth from falling open at the sight that greeted her.

Though the space that Clarke walked into was clearly intended to be used for meetings, it did a very good job at pretending to be a formal dining room. In the center of the floor was a long metal table, its surface covered with enough food to feed the army left back in the woods, let alone the small entourage that had actually accompanied the Commander all the way here. Clarke's eyes took in bread rolls, baskets overfull with fruit, platters of meats and cheeses, glass jugs containing liquids of various hues. Despite the foreignness of some of the foodstuffs to Clarke's eyes, the food laden table was probably the most familiar thing that Clarke had seen in Europa so far, if she was measuring that sense of familiarity against her life in Polis. The scene could have been lifted from any one of the formal dinners Clarke had attended in the Kongeda.

As Clarke's attention finally moved away from the food to spot President Dominique, the Delegates, and Luna standing on the opposite side of the table, Clarke immediately guessed that this whole thing was likely Luna's idea. Something so grand didn't strike her as Europa's style. It screamed of overcompensation, as if Luna and the President knew that yesterday's first meeting was somewhat underwhelming, and so today they'd pulled out all of the stops and prepared a welcome befitting to the arrival of a visiting dignitary.

At face value, the banquet was a worthy attempt indeed to make up for the lack of fanfare beforehand. Although, no matter how many such meals Clarke attended in her political career, when faced with the prospect of a formal dinner, Clarke's mind always went back to the one shared by Skaikru and Trikru when their alliance was brand new. A meal that had ended in total disaster. Raven almost executed under false charges of attempting to poison the Commander. Lexa's personal bodyguard, Gustus, actually executed when it was revealed he had been responsible for framing Raven, in an attempt to sever the foundling alliance. Of course, Luna could not know about all this if Lexa hadn't elected to tell her, and Clarke knew that it was a day that Lexa generally avoided mentioning. Clarke pushed the memories away for now, and refined her gawping into a more appropriate, pleased smile, trying to convey that she was indeed impressed by the sight laid out before her.

"Commander Lexa, it is a pleasure to see you again. Thank you for agreeing to join us for this meal," President Dominique spoke. Like yesterday, her command of gonasleng was good enough for her to speak the usual formalities without requiring translation.

"I wasn't aware that it was a meal I was being invited to," Lexa replied. Her voice wasn't exactly snappish, but it was more terse than Clarke had expected it to be. Clarke returned to staring at the back of Lexa's head, this time with curiosity. "Though, it is a grand feast indeed, and I thank you for the effort you have made. It's almost like being back home," Lexa said after a measured pause. Her words revealed to Clarke that Lexa had come to the same conclusion that the familiarity was a deliberate set-up.

"Yes, I got the impression that you were a little unsettled by the new surroundings yesterday. I thought a little familiarity would be welcomed and would make our second meeting feel a little less-" Dominique halted a moment, her hand waiving mid-gesture in the air, "rigid," she offered, finding the right word.

Clarke held back a frown. Dominique's decision to openly acknowledge Lexa's discomfort yesterday, to openly discuss a political peer's weakness, could easily be read as a slight. Clarke doubted it was intended as such, but cultural differences were bound to be difficult to overcome and this was a stark reminder of that.

"That's exactly why banquets are favored in the Kongeda," Lexa responded in the same, not quite curt voice as before.

"I can see their charm," President Dominique said, and then she motioned towards the table with both hands. "Please, let us sit and begin. We have the food on the table, but also three courses of Europan delicacies."

Everyone shuffled to take their correct seats, President Dominique and Lexa taking chairs directly opposite one another. Clarke took a seat at Lexa's right, which put her right across from Luna. The Commander even instructed Karlo and Sage to join her around the table, rather than stand guard. Clarke had to assume that the show of trust was most likely Lexa's way of getting away with her newfound caginess.

"Did Luna tell you why sharing meals with political peers is so important in our culture?" Lexa asked once everyone was settled around the table. Now there was no doubt that the Commander had guessed who was responsible for Europa's surprise, and everyone in the room who hadn't reached that conclusion no longer needed to wonder.

Clarke watched as Dominique turned to Luna for translation, and then the President regarded Lexa. "She didn't," President Dominique admitted. Clarke noted a new rigidness to Dominique's movements as the President waved a hand at the Europan guards at the doors, perhaps ordering them to usher in the starter.

"Dining with an ally shows that you trust and honor them enough to share such valuable resources as food and water with them," Lexa gave in explanation.

Clarke found herself watching the Commander raptly, keen to be ready to pick up on any hints or cues to join in the discussion that Lexa might communicate to her. As a result, Clarke barely acknowledged when the room filled with serving staff and a bowl of soup was placed before her by one of them.

"Or," Lexa continued, nodding her head in thanks to the serving staff for her own bowl, "it means that you are attempting to poison an ally that has outlived their usefulness," the Commander finished. Clarke identified the wryness in Lexa's voice. She doubted anyone else had.

Clarke caught the way Luna's eyes narrowed at Lexa before she offered a translation to President Dominique. Dominique seemed to blanche a moment, before giving a short laugh. "I assure you, Commander, there is no poison," Dominique said. She picked up her spoon and started eating her own soup as if to demonstrate her point.

Lexa gave a hum that suggested she was well aware of the lack of risk. She followed by picking up her own spoon and took her first taste of the soup without letting one of her guards try her bowl first. So, when Clarke saw Lexa tense in her seat, her heart missed a beat.

"Vichyssoise," Luna stated quickly, seeing the same tenseness in Lexa that Clarke had. "Cold soup. Took me some getting used to as well."

Clarke breathed a sigh of relief and quickly started her own bowl. The soup, which was green and tasted distinctly of peas, was indeed well chilled. With explanation given, she saw Lexa relax now that the Commander knew that no petty offence was meant. Clarke had to prevent herself from laughing around her spoon as she imagined war being declared over cold pea soup. Crisis averted.

Despite the strangeness of the dish to the Kongeda entourage, the starter was undeniably delicious. Everyone, including Clarke, finished it quickly and well before President Dominique. Clarke deduced then that the quick eating was probably intentional. The Kongeda would be observing the typical rules of etiquette. They expected to have to stop eating as soon as Dominique was done with her course, whether they actually had to observe this custom or not. Clarke hoped that their speed was not instead interpreted as uncouthness, and vowed to slow down herself on the main course.

"Are the aforementioned reasons the only reasons to have a banquet, Commander?" Dominique asked, conversation picking up again between courses.

"Not at all," Lexa answered, "they can also mean that your host is trying to get you well fed and watered enough to lower your inhibitions. So that you might agree to something that's in their interest, but not your own."

Dominique laughed again, longer than last time, after some more translations. The President seemed to have decided that Lexa was being contrary in jest, but Clarke wasn't sure that was it. She knew how well Lexa could push people's buttons, and when she did, the Commander always, always had a specific outcome in mind.

"You know, I was thinking more along the lines of celebrations. Holidays, birthdays-" Dominique said.

"Only Skaikru observe birthdays," Lexa corrected, "although yes, the Kongeda are renowned for celebratory feasts. The harvest feast and those enjoyed at union ceremonies are usually the most impressive."

Clarke felt an involuntary tremble of nerves go through her body at hearing Lexa mention union ceremonies. She wasn't sure she'd ever heard Lexa mention them before and sent out a silent prayer that Raven hadn't got anything to do with them being brought up now. She forced herself to relax, deciding it was much more likely to be a coincidence.

"I'm sure we come nowhere close," President Dominique admitted. She paused to allow the main course, some sort of stew over strange yellow-white shapes that looked to be made from flour, to be served. "We do have a special treat today, however," Dominique continued. "Real beef goulash," she named the dish.

Clarke's nostrils tickled at the steam rising off of her plate; the seasoning smelled amazing. Out of habit, she waited for the President to begin eating, before attacking her own plate. She immediately skewered one of the pieces of beef. The meat melted on her tongue and tasted wonderful. "Real beef?" Clarke repeated, deciding that she was done with observing quietly for now, and mindful of what Lexa had said yesterday. It was Clarke's mission to discover the history of Europa.

"From one of the outerland farms," it was the young male delegate, Gabor, who answered. He then turned to Luna, who was sitting beside him, and spoke to her in Europan.

"Bringing the herds to maturity and getting them to produce young has been a lengthy process. Until recently, the outerland settlements were reliant on food grown in the tunnels. Now, the process is starting to become a two-way stream," Luna translated for the Delegate.

Clarke sorted through the information and scowled in confusion. "Where did the herds come from?" she asked. Domesticated animals in the Kongeda had only survived so long after the war because they'd never stopped being farmed by the twelve clans. It was unlikely that an underground settlement could just appear back on the surface and happen across some ready tamed herds of livestock.

Clarke watched as Luna turned to President Dominique and said something to the President. Dominique gave a terse nod and Luna refocused her attention on Clarke, her brown eyes serious. "President Dominique has given me permission to tell you how Europa came to be as it is today," Luna stated.

That she had said the words directly to Clarke, rather than Lexa, was telling. Luna also knew that Clarke would fare better at understanding what was about to be revealed. Clarke almost let slip a triumphant noise as Lexa's puzzling behavior suddenly made sense to her. Lexa had been doing it all on purpose, to paint Clarke's questions as polite curiosity in comparison to her own contrariness. As a result, the Europans now seemed more willing to direct their attention to Clarke.

"The first generation of the livestock herds were grown here in the tunnels, from fertilized embryos frozen and stored down here before the nuclear war," Luna started, immediately confirming what had been obvious. The tunnels were an effort to save humanity that had been planned and brought to realisation before the bombs had fallen. "In the last years before the old world died, what was then the European Union knew it was likely to be caught in the middle of the growing tensions between the USA and China. Nuclear war seemed increasingly likely, and thanks to the various alliances around the world, was guaranteed to bring mutually assured destruction when it came."

Clarke grit her teeth. Europa still thought that the nuclear war had been caused by a conflict between two nations. They didn't know about the rogue artificial intelligence, about ALIE. Clarke stayed quiet a second, to give Lexa the chance to correct the story if she wished. She was unsurprised when the Commander remained silent. "So the Union worked together and built the tunnel network?" Clarke ventured.

"Most of it. The work was actually completed after the first generation had taken shelter," Luna answered. "That was their role, the chosen scientists, engineers and so on. So that the second generation could create a livable society down in the tunnels. And the third could start the transition of moving to the ground again."

"How?" Clarke asked immediately, feeling like she should have thought of the question before. "How have you been able to move back to the outside so quickly? Surely your people can't have the resistance to the radiation needed to survive up there. Not after three generations down here," Clarke said. She felt her heart quicken as her line of questioning brought thoughts of the mountain back to the forefront of her mind.

Luna grimaced, as if she was about to reveal something particularly difficult to admit. "The second generation of Europans were not the naturally conceived descendants of the first. They, like the livestock herds, were brought into being artificially down here. The genetics of each embryo in the population bomb were modified to increase their radiation tolerance. A trait strengthened when passed on in the usual way to generation three. Gabor and Maria's generation."

Clarke blinked, the information she'd just received simultaneously astounding and somehow terrible. A whole society born through such artificial, sterile means. No wonder Europa seemed to scream its lack of a rich culture. "Where did the first generation get so many embryos from?" Clarke enquired. The sheer amount of planning that had gone into the place was enough to make her feel nauseous. Then again, she had known that the Ark's air filtration system was failing long before everyone else. Clarke knew firsthand how it felt to foresee the doom of one's people. She and her father would have gone to any lengths to save the Ark, had he not been floated, and she not locked up in solitary.

"The embryos were syphoned off in secret from the numerous fertility banks that existed before the war," Luna explained, before quickly adding, "It was morally reprehensible. Europa knows that. But the Europans owe their existence to those decisions. Life still flourishes on the continent, beyond the end of the world, because of those decisions."

"Believe me," Clarke said, "I have no right to judge. I know what it's like to have to make such a call."

Clarke thought she might have caught a brief flash of guilt in Luna's eyes, as though the Captain were at last beginning to see Clarke's true worth, her true capabilities. It's about time, Clarke thought. But Luna still didn't know the half of what Clarke might be capable of. Especially when paired with the woman sitting, quiet and observant, to her left.

"Well, that's likely the simplest version of Europa's tale I can give you," Luna rounded off. She glanced toward the Commander, "I apologise if it's a bit much to digest. It took me a long time to fully understand the concepts myself."

"Almost as difficult to comprehend as vichyssoise," Lexa replied. She was smirking when she said it, with no need left for her pretend imperiousness. Or, not; "I must note that I've heard no mention of an army, or other protective force. Europa was and remains a vital achievement. Surely those who brought it into existence did not intend to leave it undefended."

"Actually, they did." It was Dominique who answered now. Clarke found it odd that of all they had discussed, it was the topic of an army that Dominique understood enough to answer to herself. "Europa came into existence as a result of the mistakes of humanity. Weapons and armies only breed wars. Best to leave those things in the past, no?"

"In an ideal world, President," Lexa mused. "One we have not achieved quite yet in the Kongeda," she admitted humbly. A trace of the Lexa that Clarke was most used to seeing these days.

"I hope then, that Europa can help you to achieve it. And that in return you may aid us," President Dominique offered. "That is why you were invited here after all. To begin a friendship between our societies that I hope will last forever. Europa may have many things that the Kongeda does not. But your people have survived this world in the most old fashioned way. And from all Luna has taught me, and from getting to meet you, Commander, not only do I envision a society so rich in culture, but in knowledge too. Knowledge that will help my people to reclaim the land of this continent."

So there it was. Europa's leading motivation for inviting the Kongeda to make contact with them. It was both the most simple and most complex reason. This artificially realised society was trying to discover who it was. Though she had come to love the Kongeda dearly, Clarke didn't for a minute think they were the best society to take inspiration from. Not yet at least, as Lexa had suggested. And Clarke came from a society that had had to totally reimagine itself. Sky to ground. She was well aware of all the pitfalls that might lie ahead for Europa, all the ways in which an innocent journey to discover itself could lead down much darker paths. And if the Kongeda involved itself in that process, it risked following its new ally into the darkness. Especially when the Kongeda was going through its own period of reinvention.

Boiled down to the most simplistic terms, President Dominique was offering a mere yes or no question. Yet it would be one of the most difficult answers for Commander Lexa to give in her political career. Clarke felt more grateful than ever that she was here too, to support Lexa however she chose.

Each pass of the suture through Sinclair's skin was accompanied by a sharp hiss, but little other indication of pain. Abby was impressed. The gash wasn't serious, just as Sinclair had assured, but to have such a sensitive area stitched without the use of anaesthetic had to hurt. The anaesthetic and other medical equipment that survivors had managed to salvage from the wreckage of the main building had been carefully rationed off, the medics prioritising most resources to those with the worst injuries. Abby despised how similar it felt to how things had worked back on the Ark. Those days were supposed to be far, far behind them by now.

Abby had to be thankful that the majority of the settlement had escaped the catastrophe mostly unscathed. She dreaded to think what might have happened had they elected not to evacuate the main building. There would certainly have been more than the seven fatalities they'd counted so far. Still, Abby stopped herself short of being too grateful. There were many patients now lying on the pitch suffering from serious concussions. With only the most basic supplies rescued from the medbay, Abby had no way of knowing if such injuries were causing internal bleeding, no way of making sure that someone who appeared stable now didn't suddenly slip away thanks to a bleed on the brain. The doctor could only pray, and attempt to fight away a profound feeling of helplessness.

"You're all done," Abby announced softly to Sinclair as she tied and cut off the last stitches. She didn't doubt that the Chancellor's head must be aching terribly.

"Thanks, Abby," Sinclair answered.

"I should cover it, but I don't think there's any more spare-"

"Don't worry about it," Sinclair interrupted Abby's fretting, "You've done superbly, Dr Griffin. We'd be lost without you."

"And the Trikru healers," Abby added, for she couldn't imagine how she would have coped without their presence. The healers had not let the loss of one of their own halt their work, and after patching each other's bumps and scrapes up quickly, they had helped Abby to arrange a functioning triage on the pitch.

Abby glanced over her shoulder and took in the sight. All of the healers were attending to several patients at a time, the injured people totalling about thirty. Despite the hurried activity of the healers as they flitted from one person to another, a quietness had fallen over the pitch. A soothing kind of silence that suggested that perhaps, the worst had passed. Abby caught herself again, inwardly chiding her own optimism. Even if they had only lost seven people, and the thirty injured residents made full recoveries, this was yet another tragic event that would leave permanent scars on the minds of all who had suffered through it. Abby found herself thinking this as her eyes found and locked onto Jonathan. He was sitting with his back propped against the wall of the settlement, his face pale, gaunt and emotionless, overcome with shock. He did not notice that Abby was staring at him, but still Abby felt uncomfortable and she let her attention dart instead to Monty. Despite his insistence on helping, Monty had found himself too woozy to be of much use. Abby had asked him to instead help Jonathan with the babies. Now, he sat to Jonathan's right, shock plastered onto his face too. The twins slept soundly against his chest, blissfully unaware of the pain and loss being felt all around them.

"Raion," Abby called over to the youngest Trikru healer.

Raion looked up from where he was administering an infinitesimal amount of antibacterial balm to a deep gash on his current patient's arm. "Yes, Dr Griffin?"

"When you've finished there, will you go check up on Monty, please?" Abby requested. She hid a knowing smirk at the way Raion's eyes lit up at the request. She knew that the two of them had been spending a lot of time together, and didn't doubt for a minute that there was more than just a professional relationship brewing between them. It was just one small beacon of hope to zone in on. The settlement was young. It had a future to carve yet.

"I can do that," Raion confirmed.

Abby smiled across to him and gave a grateful nod. She turned back to Chancellor Sinclair, was about to speak when her words were lost under a deafening, thrumming roar. It was the sound of an engine sparking to life, a beautiful sound that was quickly followed up by the rover appearing out of the wreckage of the main building. It's wheels span in the mud, but under Raven's skillful direction, the vehicle inched its way clear of the destruction, a hopeful sight that Abby felt they had all more than earned. Her feelings must have been shared, as a great cheer rang up through the settlement, quickly echoed by Raven's victorious honking of the rover's horn. Abby observed as Harper clambered out of the passenger side, a wide cheek-to-cheek grin on her face. The guard rushed over, making a beeline for Abby and Sinclair, pausing only to give and receive a few high fives and fist bumps on the way.

"Your chariot awaits, Chancellor," Harper announced once she reached the pitch.

"Good work, McIntyre. I hope Raven isn't too smug about it," Sinclair answered.

Harper shrugged, "I think she could do with a little smugness, right now, Chancellor," she answered, concern for Raven evident in her voice.

Abby motioned her head in agreement. She knew Raven well, well enough to assume that their Chief Engineer would be placing a lot of blame on herself now for what had happened. She shared a meaningful look with Sinclair.

"I will talk to her," Sinclair promised. "I normally get through to her, after a little insistence."

"Thanks, Chancellor," Harper said, "it's good to know she has so many people looking out for her."

"We've all got each other's backs," Abby agreed.

The three of them fell quiet, each taking stock of how grateful they were for the others around them.

"Well, I guess I should pick my-" Sinclair started to say. Another loud noise reverberated through the air, cutting him off.

This time it was the sound of wailing, the unmistakable pained cry of someone finding something awful. Eight, Abby corrected the number of losses even before Octavia appeared before her, breathless from running.

"We've found Macallan," Octavia puffed out. She gulped hard. "What's left of him, anyway. And the two who were working the pulleys" she added with a wince.

Abby closed her eyes and sighed. Ten, then. With the front of the wreck cleared of survivors, attention had been turned to back, to the sights of the two elevators. Abby had known that the chances of finding the people working on and around the structures alive was next to impossible. Still, she had hoped. Abby forced her eyes open and steeled herself, waiting to receive the same news about those manning the opposite lift.

"Dr Griffin! Dr Griffin! We need you over here!" a voice came crying out. Abby startled and located the voice, saw a woman running towards her from behind the wreckage, arms waving erratically in the air. "It's Miller! He's still alive!"

Abby's legs moved of their own accord, propelling her forward at the sound of those unbelievable words. Despite her rushing, however, she was quickly overtaken by Harper and Octavia. She let the two girls go ahead, and by the time she had picked her way over debris to the other side of the destruction, her newest patient was already being carefully carried out from where he had been trapped. Abby wondered how on earth Miller had survived, but quickly cast those thoughts aside to focus on what mattered. He was alive, and he needed her help. She marched over to the group of rescuers.

"Put him down here," Abby ordered. She waited for Miller to be carefully deposited onto a clear patch of grass. Harper and Octavia quickly knelt beside their friend. Abby claimed her own space on Miller's left side, having already noted the blood on that side of his face. Despite the alarming sight, she was relieved to see that Miller was still conscious, his eyes barely open, but staring back at her nonetheless.

"Doc," Miller croaked out.

"Hush, let me take a look at this wound," Abby insisted. She saw Miller grimace, as if struggling to understand her.

"Doc, you're going to have to move to the other side of me," Miller answered, "I- I can't hear you."

Abby's mouth formed a hard line as Miller confirmed what she had suspected the injury might be. She took one more glance, to confirm that the blood covering Miller's left cheek had in fact poured out of his ear, and then she did as asked and shuffled over to Miller's right side.

"Miller, I can't say for certain yet, but I need you to be prepared," Abby said gently. She placed a comforting hand over his sweat-beaded forehead. "Did something hit the side of your face?" she asked.

Miller made a noise to confirm that it had. "The metal panels I'd brought down fell on top of me. Knocked me out," he whispered.

Abby could imagine perfectly what had happened. The metal sheets falling, clapping Miller hard around the ear, causing a sudden and great change of pressure. "I think you're left eardrum is burst, Miller." She saw the question in Miller's eyes without him having to ask it. "The hearing loss is likely to be permanent."

Miller grunted, taking the information in. "Guess I know which side to tell my lieutenant here to stand on when she's harping on at her boss," Miller managed.

Abby observed as Harper's face contorted, a mixture of amusement and hurt for her friend. "Charming. You realise that I've got to hold the fort for you now you've gotten yourself all banged up?" Harper let out, a dark edge to her voice, as if she was realising just how easily her and Miller's situations could have been reversed. Still, Harper had a point. There was little use everybody crowding around Miller anymore. The time for relief had passed and there was plenty of work yet to be done.

"That's right, acting Guard Captain. I've got this in hand," Abby said. "You should go back to Chancellor Sinclair. You too, Octavia, I imagine that you'll be going with him in the rover to fetch help." As she spoke, Abby felt a new flood of desperation overtake her, the relief of finding Miller alive washed clean away. She silently directed a few survivors to pick Miller back up, to take him to the pitch for proper treatment. Abby got back onto her feet and shivered as she looked over their ruined home. Their shelter gone in the midst of winter. The help that Chancellor Sinclair and his team were going to ask for had better come quickly, or else who knew how their tiny clan would make it through to spring, let alone into that bright future they'd all been dreaming of.

Luna battled with the urge to slouch in her chair as she sat across the large metal desk from President Dominique. Usually, her lax approach to etiquette would go unremarked upon, or even teased, but Luna got the distinct feeling that this was no social call. She had been asked into the President's office for a specific reason. The way that Dominique stared over at her was intense, even and quiet. It often reminded Luna of Indra. It was not a judgemental look upon Dominique's kind face, simply a disarming one. A gaze that implored whomever it was aimed at to be honest.

"The meal was a success, President," Luna noted, speaking Europan, when President Dominique kept silent. Luna knew that she was expected to speak first, that she was expected to already know what Dominique wanted to hear from her.

"It was," Dominique agreed, "largely thanks to your guidance. It was a good idea."

Luna nodded, accepting the praise. "I can't really speak for the Kongeda as a whole, but I've always known Trikru to be slow to take on new concepts, to trust new ideas. I thought the familiarity would be a help."

"I'm not sure you give Commander Lexa enough credit. I think she understood more about our history than either of us expected," Dominique pointed out.

"Concepts already learned from Skaikru, I imagine. From Clarke," Luna surmised. "I admit, I had my doubts about Clarke's character, but I'm glad she is here now. She's proven useful as a mediator between the two cultures. As for Lexa, I suppose I never imagined how a person I once knew so well would change in the time I've been away. We always knew I was making the journey back across the seas on knowledge that was likely well outdated. The extent to which the political landscape has changed over there was surprising to me, even so. I guess I was expecting Lexa to fold more under the pressures of leadership, to have ended up more like the previous Commanders."

"She certainly knows how to wear her power. I have no doubt that she is a remarkably dangerous woman when she wishes to be. Is that not what we expected?"

"It is. Don't get me wrong, she's exactly like her predecessors when she needs to be. But underneath that, there is still a lot of the girl I once knew. And a lot of the young woman who is now a total stranger to me. It's difficult to know which facet you might end up dealing with at any given moment. That makes it hard to judge how to approach things with her," Luna tried not to wince as she said the last part, feeling it might give her away.

"Do you feel you may have misjudged something, Luna?" Dominique inquired, picking up on whatever residual facial cues Luna had not managed to cover in time. The gentle way in which Dominique accused her, the way it was posed as a searching question, cut Luna right to the bone.

"Maybe," she admitted.

Dominique moved her arms from the rests of her chair, placing her elbows on the table. She clasped her hands before her chin. "Yesterday, you informed me after the first meeting, that Commander Lexa had insisted on bringing a small army along with her. I accepted that, based on all you had told me of your old home, even expected something like that to occur in order for her to agree to come here. Providing those soldiers stay within their camp, unaware of the location of the tunnel entrance and unlikely to create a fuss, they are of little concern to me." Dominique gave a pause, giving her words time to sink in before she made her real point. "It is the Commander herself that I worry about. I trusted your judgement of her, I still do. But I look at her, and I fear that her fear of this place, of how we live, will cause trouble. I know that the Kongeda have had difficult experiences with an underground society before. I do not blame her for being a little wary. But it's more than that. It is the discomfort of being taken by surprise. It is the reaction someone might have to being faced with one of their fears without prior warning. Or time to prepare themselves."

"I didn't tell her that we live underground." Luna relinquished her secret. "She didn't know until she was at the entrance to the tunnels."

The silence that descended over the office was consuming. Luna felt every hair on the back of her neck stand on end as Dominique scrutinized her. Still, there was no harshness to be found in Dominique's eyes. Only a certain disappointment that pierced the skin and turned to shame the moment it hit.

"You sprung this reality on her. Practically assaulted her with it, and then brought her here, among your people," Dominique said.

"She would never have made the journey," Luna stated, choking on her attempt to put strength into her voice. "If she had known what Europa is, she wouldn't have set foot on the ship. Or, if she had, it would have been with a view to bring war upon another mountain, before we could act against her society." When Dominique gave no response to Luna's defense, Luna went on; "You call what the mountain was doing 'difficult experiences' but it was so much more than that. It was genocide. It was the systematic destruction of one group of people for the benefit of the other. And since I left, that threat may have been destroyed, but the scars remain. And the truth of why they did what they did to us all those years was revealed. They were using the blood of the twelve clans, to try to make themselves resistant enough to move to the ground. If I had told Lexa that we live in the same way here, that's all she would have seen. Another threat. Another society looking to bleed her people dry. So I kept it hidden. I got her here first, so that she has no choice but to see and live our truth, without the chance to make any assumptions that could put us in danger. I would never risk the chance of bringing a war here. Europa is my home."

"I know that, Luna. I've known you for five years now, befriended you and watched you find your place here. But does the Commander know?" Dominique spoke at last, her rather simple question taking Luna aback. "Does Commander Lexa understand your motivations for protecting us so fiercely? Not your duty to me as your President. Your personal investments."

Luna shook her head, red curls bouncing freely. "Not yet, President."

"That at least, is a decision I can understand," Dominique responded. Luna read between the lines easily enough. She knew that President Dominique still thought she had been wrong to hide the nature of Europa for the whole journey. And, as a result, Dominique expected her to do something to rectify her mistake. "You have to make Lexa truly understand why you hid so much from her. Her ability to trust you is paramount to our success, and her finding calm here vital to our safety." Dominique broke into a smile. "It isn't very often I get to order people to spend time with their friends as a matter of domestic security. Go, Luna, and enjoy this novelty."

Luna rose of her chair and gave a half-bow, understanding what needed to be done. "Allow me to apologise, President Dominique," she said, readying to take her leave.

Dominique simply waved her off, the amused smirk she normally wore in Luna's presence appearing right at the last moment, before Luna turned away from her and exited the office. It was probably one of the simplest tasks she'd ever been entrusted with, and yet Luna felt her stomach tighten with nerves at the prospect. It was time to invite Commander Lexa to visit her home. To show the thing that Luna never thought she would have to a woman she never imagined she'd get to show it to. There was nothing simple about that.

The long grass rustled overhead in the light breeze. The sound was constant, soothing, and even after fourteen years spent in the barren wastes, utterly familiar. Kaigo lay prone on the plain, the shorter grasses scratching against his palms as he crawled up a slight incline in the otherwise flat land. General Mearas also inched her way up the natural overlook at Kaigo's left side.

"There," Kaigo whispered upon reaching the top. He raised himself up onto his knees, granting himself a better view of the vista beyond while being careful to keep his head below the level of the grass. "There is the Western Caste's camp, around the lake."

The Exodus army had moved swiftly, reaching the territory of Ingranrona in a matter of hours, just like Kaigo had said they could. Still, it felt strange to Kaigo to be in the lands of his previous home again after so very long, not least because the territory had, for all that time, remained so very close. The landscapes of Ingranrona and the wastes could not be more different, however. Kaigo peered through the grass at the myriad tents, stretching around the shores of a lake full to the brim with water. He observed the figures milling around the camp, going about their everyday lives. As the fresh, living scents of the plains filled his nose, the comfort of the familiar turned instead to the envy of looking upon what he had gone without. Kaigo wondered if the army that crouched behind him, awaiting their orders, felt the same way after their passage across the continent.

The rush of the wind was the only sound for a while, as Mearas rose to her knees and assessed the sight for herself. Kaigo found himself watching her closely, looking into that pallid face for any sign of emotion. Looking for the confident set of her jaw. The flash of bloodlust in her eyes. Or perhaps for a nervous tick. The same envy that he felt. Instead, Mearas's face remained resolutely passive.

"Are you sure that is the whole camp?" Mearas asked.

Kaigo nodded. "Yes. Around two-hundred souls in total. The large tent across the lake belongs to the Horsemaster of the camp. And beyond that, do you see that hill?" Kaigo pointed through the grass very briefly. Even a stray finger might be spotted by the scouts that patrolled the camp. "That's where the beacon is located. The moment we are spotted, someone will make a run for that beacon to alert the rest of the territory, and then the whole Kongeda, that we are coming."

Mearas gave a low growl, "They will not make it to that beacon," she vowed. Then, she pointed towards the tents. "Those fire pits, are they communal?"

"Yes. The Caste eat their meals together."

"Then we wait for the evening meal to make our attack. When their guard is down and the cooking fires dancing in their eyes, obscuring their surroundings," Mearas said. "We go in prone, take out the scouts. Then we charge, right to the edges of the lake, where the Exodus will split and take a side each. Where are the horses kept?" she asked.

Kaigo scanned the nomadic settlement. The layout of each Caste differed little from one another. He soon located the only permanent structures on the sight, four of them in a square. "Those are the stables," he motioned his head, "the wooden structures."

"We will need to prevent anyone from getting to their horse and making a break for it. Or attempting to mount of defensive charge. I will send a small detachment to flank through the grasses. They will clear the stables of any guards, and wait ready to ambush anyone who runs there," Mearas plotted. Now, Kaigo could detect an air of confidence in her voice. It wasn't self-assured however, merely certain of just how easy this could be, if things went as planned. Kaigo let out an involuntary hiss of delight at the thought. If fate favored the Exodus, in a few hours at most, the Western Caste of Ingranrona would exist no more. He shuddered when he realized that Mearas had turned her head to stare daggers at him. "Do I need to ask you if you are able to proceed again, Heda Kaigo?" She had read his noise as doubt, not expectation.

Kaigo grimaced, but shook his head aggressively. "No," he stated.

"Did you know this Caste well?" Mearas continued to pry.

"Well enough. The Castes rarely gather together, instead rotating across the land of their own territories for most of the year, from one sight to the next. Sometimes, that means setting up camp close to the next Caste's border. Celebratory meetings normally follow when that occurs. To signify that despite our relative solitude from one another, we are still one clan. We were," Kaigo corrected hurriedly. "I never knew this Horsemaster, however," he added, hoping that this might further assuage Mearas of her doubt. "Carver, I believe his name is. When I was Horsemaster in the south, it was his father who rode at the head of the Western Caste." Kaigo quietened then, afraid that saying too much would sound like he was overcompensating. History lessons hardly mattered to those who were about to destroy that history.

"Very well," Mearas said, "let us return to the Exodus and wait for darkness to fall. I want a full rundown of Ingranrona defense tactics from you while we wait. I don't want a drop of that settlement's blood left unspilled. When we are through, the lake will run red."

The passionless way in which Mearas spoke of such things would never be anything less that completely petrifying. Kaigo didn't understand how Mearas could be so unfazed, when the prospect of drawing first blood from the Kongeda filled him with satisfaction. "My people will be ready to serve," Kaigo assured, feeling the need to offer what he could. "We've waited for this opportunity for so long - " Kaigo went on, the words pouring out of him unbidden, " - It would be an honor for us to lead the main charge with you, General."

General Mearas bared her teeth. "Who am I to deny such a brave and noble request?"

The elevator crawled past the level that Lincoln was after. He jumped off onto the floor of the tower that held the Commander's famous library. Lincoln had at last found a few moments to spare, and he thought he might brush up on his reading skills. The ability to read was a gift not many people possessed in the Kongeda, especially not warriors. Lincoln had been taught by Luna, and in the past year, he had insisted on Octavia helping him to improve the skill further. He thought it would be nice to have the chance to read something in full, so that he might pass the tale onto Octavia when he returned home and show her that her efforts had not been in vain.

Spare time seemed to come in rare spates in Polis tower, and despite staying in the tower for over a week, Lincoln had enjoyed very little time to himself. He had found himself helping to teach the novitiates every day, often from dawn until dusk, though the time passed in the blink of an eye. It was a hectic lifestyle the two children led, with both practical and theoretical classes that covered a whole range of topics. As a field medic, Lincoln's extensive knowledge of healing had been especially useful in Clarke's absence, but so too had his skill as a warrior. Indra had certainly made the most of Lincoln's help, preferring to watch and offer advice from the sidelines rather than scrap with the overly energetic novitiates herself. It was strange for Lincoln to see her so subdued. She had clearly taken to the quiet life as Lexa's ceremonial bodyguard just as well as Lincoln had taken to the current peacefulness of Arkadia. Lincoln would never say it to her face, for he knew that the General would still knock him to the ground, but he thought Indra might be going just a little soft. Though that wasn't particularly surprising to him. He knew all about the kindhearted, passionate soul at her center. Watching her reveal that side of herself to Marion and Kalvan had been truly moving to observe.

Lincoln was impressed with the two novitiates Lexa had found so far, using the new method of identifying her potential successor. Luna had told him much about the life of a nightblood in Polis. Though he knew he'd never truly understand without having lived it himself, Lincoln imagined what a difficult, terrifying way it must have been to grow up. Spending each day of your childhood knowing that your death approached far too soon. A reality that most people didn't become aware of until at least a little later. Those children had lived under the shadow of the conclave from the moment they were taken from their families and brought to the capital for training. The whole notion was barbaric to Lincoln, just one of many issues he had always had with his culture. Lincoln couldn't stomach thinking about what it might have been like to meet Marion and Kalvan were the old system still in place, knowing what fate likely awaited those kids. He wondered how Indra and Anya ever stood mentoring Luna and Lexa respectively. It was a relief that Lexa's changes to the process now prevented a tragic waste of such bright lives. No fight to the death awaited Marion and Kalvan, nor any other novitiates that may join them. In fact, Lincoln got the distinct impression that a great many potential successors to the throne would age out before ever needing to worry about the mantle passing to them. Commander Lexa seemed intent on sticking around for an awful lot longer than any previous Commanders had.

Reaching the library, Lincoln found the doors to be under guard, suggesting that someone of importance was already inside. The guards opened the grand wooden doors even so, letting Lincoln pass through them. He took in the spectacle, the overfull bookshelves stretching out to his left and right, and then his eyes settled on the lone figure in the room.

Aden stood facing the large windows, though darkness was falling and not much could be seen through them. The acting Commander's posture was perfect, his hands clasped behind his back. Despite being both a taller and broader than Lexa by now, Aden was almost the mirror of her. Uncertain whether the guards should have actually let him enter, but deciding that they were unlikely to make such a mistake, Lincoln edged further into the room, heading towards the large table. As he grew close, he found himself grinning. Aden was muttering to himself, a rapid barrage of fanciful Trigedasleng escaping his lips and drifting out through the windows. Lincoln came to stop on the opposite side on the table to Aden and cleared his throat. Aden's chattering stopped in an instant and the boy whipped about, hand going to, but not drawing, one of the throwing knives he wore on a bandolier over his chest. Lincoln offered an apologetic shrug as his eyes met Aden's.

"I apologise for startling you, acting Commander Aden," Lincoln said, bowing his head in respect.

Aden dropped his hand from the handle of the knife, his young face looking noticeably crestfallen at being taken off guard. "I was practicing my lines for the Remembrance Ceremony tomorrow," he admitted.

Lincoln nodded in understanding. The ceremony was one of the reasons why he had elected to stay so long. He'd never been to one before, and he thought that the first one after a year of unmatched peace would be a particularly important event to be a part of. All the years before now, the ceremony had been focused on honoring the glory of those warriors felled in battle. Lincoln thought that now, it might take on a more somber and reflective tone, as the Kongeda took stock of what progress it had made away from the violence of the past. He would even wager that when Lexa had introduced the ceremony upon the unification of the Kongeda, the Commander had always intended for it to become a more sedate day of remembrance, rather than a celebration. As a result, tomorrow was going to be a serious affair, and Lincoln did not blame Aden for wanting to be prepared to lead the ceremony in Lexa's stead.

"Are you nervous?" Lincoln enquired, knowing that it wasn't really something he should be asking the acting Commander, but doubting that he would mind.

"A little," Aden answered immediately, confirming Lincoln's logic. If anything, after the initial shock, he now looked relieved to have someone to confide in. "I do wish Commander Lexa would hurry home. Public speaking was never where my strength lay in my training."

"Yet you know as I do, you will face your weakness and overcome it. That is why Commander Lexa entrusted her throne to you, Aden. You will do fine," Lincoln assured.

"Chof, Lincoln," Aden responded. The boy - for Lincoln could still only see a boy when he looked at Aden - gave a sigh and plopped himself into the closest chair around the table. Lincoln followed suit, taking the opposite seat. "It's a shame we haven't had the chance to properly talk," Aden lamented. "Indra tells me you've been saving her quite a lot of hard work by helping with Marion and Kalvan's lessons. It's greatly appreciated."

"It's no trouble," Lincoln said with a smile. "They're good kids. You've clearly done an excellent job as their teacher, so just remember that tomorrow."

"Huh, I think I'd take a whole army of novitiates before having to face the twelve Ambassadors again," Aden mused, not serious but not entirely joking either. "The kids have better temperaments."

Lincoln laughed. He couldn't say he disagreed entirely with Aden's assessment. Still, Lincoln found his thoughts turning to the rambunctious band of children back in Arkadia. "You should visit Skaikru, see those kids tearing about on the grass. Tracking mud through the corridors for the rest of the the day when they've run themselves out of energy. After that, the Ambassadors might just seem a little tamer."

"I'll keep that in mind," Aden said. "Will you be going back soon? You must miss home."

"I will, after the ceremony," Lincoln explained. "Staying in Polis, getting to be around my culture again after so long, it's been special. But I am getting ready to return to the people I've left behind."

Aden looked thoughtful. "Indra told me how surprised she was that you've stayed this long. She says you've never really felt like you fit."

Lincoln frowned, "General Indra seems to have talked about me a lot."

"She cares a lot about you," Aden replied with a shrug, "she doesn't say it, but I can tell. I can tell she cares for all of us. You, me, the novitiates. Commander Lexa. Even Clarke."

"Between you and me, I think you might be right, Aden. Though Indra isn't exactly correct about me. Not anymore. Having come here, I realise now that I've missed being in Trikru territory. And with the changes happening around the Kongeda, I think it'll get easier and easier to embrace that part of me again."

"Still, what Indra said gave me an idea and I'd like to pass it onto you. When Luna left, she formally stepped down as leader of Floukru. The clan will need to choose a new Captain upon Commander Lexa's return. I know you have a history with the clan, and it might just be something you'd consider," Aden revealed.

Lincoln squirmed in his chair. "You hardly know me. What makes you think I'd be any good at the job?"

Aden raised an eyebrow, the protégé channeling his mentor again. "I've been trained to read people within moments of first meeting them, Lincoln," Aden said, his voice more insistent, more befitting of the acting Commander than it had been before now. "The Kongeda is flourishing now because it has people like Commander Lexa, General Indra, Bandrona Clarke, and Haihefa Roan, guiding it. I haven't needed to know you very long to see that you are of the same ilk as they." Aden quietened and picked himself up off the chair, putting up a hand to stop Lincoln from following the action as etiquette normally demanded. "It's something for you to think on, Lincoln. Thank you again for your help."

Aden swept away and out of the library, leaving Lincoln alone to mull over the possibility just presented to him. Floukru Captain. The thought made Lincoln want to guffaw. He remained silent though, and found the idea lodging itself in his mind more firmly than he cared for it to do.

"Clarke," Lexa breathed out, the name escaping her lips in a higher pitch than usual, thanks to the wonderful feeling of cool fingers creeping under her shirt. Lexa squirmed as fingertips ghosted over her stomach muscles. "I have a small confession to make," she managed to finish.

She and Clarke had found themselves left alone for an extended amount of time again after the meal. Lexa assumed that Europa wanted to give them time to mull over all they had learned today. Instead, Lexa and Clarke had found themselves giving into more well known ways to pass the time. Lexa was extremely pleased with how well she and Clarke had played the meal to their advantage, getting Europa to open up to them at last. And they'd managed it without a single word of planning passing between them beforehand. Lexa thought that was a small victory worth celebrating, the pride and affection she felt for Clarke's skills worth being demonstrated in a practical fashion.

"Oh?" Clarke prompted after some time, her face finally moving away from the crook of Lexa's neck. "What have you done now?"

"Remember that small squabble we had back in Polis? While we were packing our belongings?" Lexa asked, keeping her voice as blasé as she could so that she didn't reveal her game just yet.

Clarke sat up properly, settling herself on her knees, one leg on either side of Lexa's waist. She raised an eyebrow as she stared down at Lexa. "I wouldn't exactly call it a 'squabble' myself, but yes I do. Quite fondly."

Lexa allowed herself a smirk, before growing bashful. She drew her lips into her mouth and took a breath through her nose. "Well, despite all my protests against the idea, I may have ignored my own advice. And while you were out brooding on the balcony I -"

"Lexa?" Clarke prompted, eyes narrowing in growing suspicion.

" - I went ahead and packed what I said we shouldn't bring with us anyway."

Clarke's accusing squint morphed into an amused one, eyes and nose crinkling as she let out a bright laugh. The noise stopped short however, and Lexa regarded Clarke with concen, wondering what thoughts had robbed Clarke of her amusement. "Wait," Clarke hissed, "do you mean all that time we had together on the ship?"

Lexa winced, grasping for a way to get out of the trap Clarke had set. Or maybe trying to find the best way to figuratively walk herself right into it. "Too much of a good thing, Clarke," she tried.

"Uh-huh," Clarke let out. Her face grew deadly serious. "Where is it?" she demanded.

Lexa raised a brow of her own, throwing an unimpressed look up at Clarke. "If you'd helped me to unpack you would already -" Lexa started to chide. She was halted by a finger being pressed over her lips.

"You insisted that I would be a hindrance," Clarke reminded. She gave a satisfied smile. "But, you did do a wonderful job of unpacking. Just like back home. I know where to look."

With that, Clarke clambered off Lexa and the bed both. Lexa would have felt more disappointed at the loss of contact, if not for the sight of Clarke practically sashaying her way over to the metal drawers. Lexa felt the taut feeling in her stomach increase as Clarke reached her destination. The tension dissipated in an instant, replaced by a wave of frustration as two sharp raps sounded on the door to their quarters. The knocks put a resolute end to Lexa and Clarke's plans for the evening.

Lexa shot up off the mattress, firing the harshest glare she could muster in the direction of the door. She cleared her throat, a hand coming up to sweep over her hair, hoping to right any misplaced strands. She marched over to the door while rearranging her shirt, to make herself look something that resembled presentable. She supposed that there was little to be done about the remaining flush on her cheeks.

Lexa shared a look with Clarke, who was still standing by the drawers, either too stunned or too vexed to move. She waited for Clarke to give her a nod, before reaching out to stab the button on the wall that made the door hiss open. Lexa came face to face with Luna. The two of them regarded one another a second, and Lexa was loathe to observe the barely there smile that crept onto Luna's face.

"I'm sorry, have I interrupted something?" Luna asked.

"No," Lexa stated, completely owning how unconvincing she sounded.

"Not at all," Clarke chimed in, freed from her stupor at last and appearing in Lexa's peripheral vision."We were actually about to go out, weren't we?" Clarke continued. "To the commercial chamber."

Lexa grit her teeth, sticking out an elbow to surreptitiously nudge Clarke in the side to get her to stop talking. It was too late, and Lexa sighed as Luna's lips stopped twitching and committed to a full grin. Lexa had previously warned Clarke of this.

"Oh, well, whatever floats your boat, as they say," Luna teased. "Although, maybe you could delay your 'public appearance' a little while longer. I wanted to invite you both to my quarters."

"Negotiations in your personal quarters?" Lexa asked, perplexed. "That is a little too far in an attempt to be familiar, is it not?"

Luna gave an amused bark. "I'm not inviting you to negotiations, sis. I want you to visit my home. Well, my home down here. My proper one is actually up on the ground," Luna explained.

"That sounds wonderful, Luna. Thank you," it was Clarke who answered for them. Something about the prospect of a social call had caught Lexa totally off-guard. "Give us a moment to get ready?"

"Depends how long you two consider a 'moment'," Luna chortled.

That did garner a response from Lexa. She flashed a dangerous look at Luna, before wordlessly reaching for the door control again. The door snapped closed between them.

Tovac shuddered as he patted Pollux's rump. Dusk had fallen, and with it so had the temperature. The chilly air was especially biting right by the shores of Nomeitpoda, and the wind rippled over the surface of the water. The boy missed the warmth of the fire pits now, even though he and his older sister had wolfed down their evening meals so that they could tend to Pollux sooner. Getting to water Father's horse was always a special privilege, and as Tovac let his small hand sweep over the steed's cloud white side, he knew that there was nothing else he'd rather be doing.

"Os gapa," Alev soothed the horse as he lapped at the lake water. Tovac's sister stood by the horse's bowed head, her leather foot wraps abandoned on the shore while she dipped her toes. The water was far too cold for Tovac to do the same, but Alev had always been the braver one of the two. It was just as well, considering that she was heir to Father's title. One day, Alev would become Horsemaster of the Caste. As a result, the older she got (she was thirteen now, Tovac nine) the more intense her daily training became. Tovac missed being able to spend the days following his sister around, missed the games they used to play together. Tending to the horses as a team was one rare treat that they could still enjoy, for it counted as useful training for them both.

"He's thirsty tonight," Tovac observed of the horse. The sound of the beast drinking was hypnotic and Tovac yawned loudly.

"The air's been dry," Alev responded, and she swept a hand over Pollux's intricately braided mane. "I can't wait for the spring showers to arrive."

"You just want to get your own horse," Tovac guessed. With winter coming to an end, the four Castes would soon gather for the Spring Ceremony in Feld, the capital of Ingranrona and the only truly permanent settlement the clan had. Feld was the seat of the Grand Horsemaster, overall leader of the territory. Now that Alev had reached adolescence, she would receive her first personal mount from the Grand Horsemaster's herd during the celebrations. Tovac knew that it was a day his sister had been waiting for for a long time.

Ingranrona took the care of its horses very seriously. Every warrior and livestock drover had a deep connection to their own mount. But perhaps of most importance was the relationship between a Horsemaster and their horse. Together, they protected their Caste and clan. While Pollux was a well-mannered beast, gentle and calm as he drank the lake water, if you put him in charging formation with the rest of the Caste's war horses, then he would be the fiercest beast on the field by a significant margin. This knowledge made it particularly alarming for Tovac when Pollux's large head shot up from the water. The horse began to whinnie, his front hooves kicking nervously and making splashes.

"Pollux, easy," Alev tried to soothe the beast, but Pollux only grew more agitated. Tovac gave a cry as Pollux reared up, landing back in the shallows with such force that he left Alev drenched. "Pollux, what's wrong, boy?" Alev asked, her voice growing fearful.

"Alev," Tovac whispered her name, increasingly certain that something was very, very wrong all of a sudden. The siblings found themselves turning away from the lake simultaneously, looking back to the western bank of the settlement where everyone had gathered to eat. Tovac's young eyes failed to comprehend the chaos he saw erupting in the camp, but Alev reacted for both of them.

"Tovac!" she screamed his name, coming out of the water to grab at her brother. Tovac yelped as Alev tried to lift him. "Tovac get on Pollux, now!"

Tovac's hands grappled against the beast's sides, trying to find a purchase on the unsaddled horse. He felt Alev pushing him up by his rear, and eventually scrambled on top of Pollux. "Alev?" he asked, turning his head over his shoulder to try to understand what was going on. The sounds of screaming began to carry in the wind, and he saw a whole row of tents in the distance go up in orange flames. Behind the dancing inferno, he could see a great swarm of something horrible descending on his home. It still made no sense, but Tovac started to cry nonetheless.

"We're under attack, Tovac. We have to get to Father," Alev cried out, as she mounted Pollux much more skillfully despite the horse's now frantic movements. Alev pressed her front to Tovac's back. He was glad of the extra support, finding it difficult to keep his balance on the horse's broad back with his small legs. Alev wasted no time in kicking her heels into Pollux's sides, spurring the horse right into a gallop, directing him by his mane away from the west, towards the Horsemaster's tent on the eastern bank.

"Come on, Pollux!" Alev urged loudly, right in Tovac's ear. The boy hissed and felt his stomach turning as Pollux jostled them about, hooves thundering over and around the sandy lakeshore. Tovac tried to look behind them, past Alev's body, but she prevented him from doing so with an insistent hand on his cheek. "No, Tovac. Don't look. You don't want to see," she said. "We have to get to father and get help. Don't look back, strikbro, don't look -"

Alev's pleas were cut short by a sharp gasp. Whereas Tovac had been unable to comprehend what was happening before, now events seemed to unfold in slow motion, so that the boy knew exactly what was going on. His face contorted into shock and despair as his attention dropped from Alev's pained face to the arrowhead that had burst out of her chest. Alev slumped lifelessly off the still charging Pollux, her body crashing to the ground and soon left behind. It left Tovac with a clear view of the unknown archer who had fired the shot and killed his big sister. Tovac let out a great wail, scrabbling to keep his balance on Pollux, turning forwards again. Adrenaline coursed through his young body, telling him to keep going despite what had just happened. He let out another yelp as an arrow sang past his head, and Tovac bent at the waist, keeping his body flush against Pollux's back, feeling the horse's muscles straining beneath him.

At last, Father's tent was in reach and Tovac spotted the Horsemaster giving frantic orders to his honor guard. Tovac called out to him in desperation; "Nontu! Nontu!"

"Tovac?" Horsemaster Carver responded to the sound of his son's voice immediately, rushing over and fearlessly standing before Pollux to stop the beast's charge. Pollux skidded to a halt, neighing loudly.

"Nontu, we have to go! We have to fetch help," Tovac wailed, not daring to right himself on Pollux's back. His father approached and stroked a hand over Tovac's hair to soothe him, before looking beyond the horse. The hopelessness that Tovac saw in Carver's eyes was one of the most awful sights he'd ever witnessed.

"You're right, son," Carver agreed. He turned back to the small gathering of people he had been giving instructions to. "Forget the charge, it's too late. Our only hope is to send warning to Polis."

"We won't abandon our Caste, Horsemaster!" one of the guards protested.

Tovac heard his father growl. "Then stay and die honorably with the rest of the camp, if you wish. I will ride to the relay hut myself," Carver spat. With that, Carver mounted Pollux. Tovac finally lifted himself up and pressed himself close to his father's chest.

With a kick, Pollux moved off again, charging away just in time as the sounds of slaughter grew ever closer to the remaining tents of the settlement. The horse did not move quite fast enough for Tovac to miss hearing the death throes of the people they had just left behind, as they were overrun by an army far too large to stop. Tovac's constant tears came harder, sobs wracking his body. Carver let go of Pollux's mane with one hand, and wrapped that arm tightly around his son.

At last, the awful noises of the slaughter began to fade, and then Tovac's crying, the sound of galloping hooves and Pollux's laboured snorts were the only sounds. That was until Carver spoke.

"Tovac, where's your sister? Where's Alev?" Horsemaster Carver asked the question Tovac had been dreading. Tovac turned his teary face, looked up into his father's eyes. But Tovac could only wail louder in response.

The only notable difference from the outside between Luna's quarters and the ones Lexa and Clarke had been given, was that Luna's door appeared larger in its frame. Luna took the plastic rectangle she normally wore around her neck - Lexa remembered the term 'keycard' - and swiped it through a panel to open the door.

"Please, come in," Luna ushered her two guests through the door, and Lexa took her first real glimpse into Luna's life in Europa.

Just like the door, the quarters were larger inside too. Much larger, with multiple doors leading off to other rooms, where Lexa and Clarke's quarters only had the bedroom and the bathroom. Lexa supposed that it made sense for Luna to have a nicer abode. It might not be her full-time home, but it was a fully functioning one. Still, the grandeur of it surprised Lexa. She could tell that Luna had made a real impression on Europa's President, assumed that Dominique and Luna were great friends. But Luna was still an outsider, and Lexa couldn't help but wonder what Luna had done to achieve such status as her quarters betrayed. The answer came quicker than Lexa expected, in the form of a man appearing through one of the interior doors.

"Commander Lexa, Clarke, hello," Delegate Gabor welcomed, crossing through the living space to reach the arriving guests. He did not come alone. In his arms, Gabor held a baby that had to be under a year old. And practically attached to his leg was another child, a girl of about three. She was the miniature double of Luna, except perhaps for the shyness.

Lexa blinked, looking from Gabor, to the children, then to Luna. She found herself gasping and then smiled brightly at her old friend. "Luna."

Luna gave a nonchalant shrug, like she was entirely aware that such an important thing should have been revealed sooner. "Lexa, Clarke, I know you've met him before, but allow me to introduce you to my husband, Gabor. In his arms is our son, Milos. And this little monster," Luna said, motioning for the girl to come out from behind her father's legs. The girl approached and Luna put both hands on her shoulders. "Is our daughter, Indra."

"Spechou, bigasis," Lexa said with absolute sincerity, and happiness, "It appears I'm a little late on all three counts, but congratulations to you. You too, Delegate Gabor." Lexa motioned her head to the delegate.

Delegate Gabor shook his head, "No, no. Gabor. Gabor is fine," he insisted. He motioned to his son, who was babbling at an ever increasing volume, threatening to cry. "I have to..." (he mimed the action of feeding Milos). "Babies have no manners."

"Put him down to sleep and come join us when you are done, amor," Luna said, moving to her husband to give him a quick peck.

While the spouses shared their moment, Lexa's attention drifted to Clarke. Their eyes met, and Lexa could see the same awe in Clarke's gaze. Lexa didn't know whether it was tragically humorous, or vice versa, that she and Clarke had not once entertained the notion that Luna would have a family waiting for her here in Europa. It was the simplest explanation for Luna's protectiveness, the strongest motivation behind her refusal to divulge too much about the society. So, of course, Lexa and Clarke had missed it entirely.

The protection of one's own family, of the few over the many, was something that Lexa had to appreciate as a leader. It was the driving force behind most people's actions. But not her own. She was the one who had to sacrifice, so that she may look out for the majority. What she and Clarke shared already defied all expectations. But this totally domestic scene, for how simple and common it must be both in Europa and back home, was not something that they could bank on achieving themselves. Nothing so plaintively ordinary awaited their futures. Lexa thought she caught a hint of sadness in Clarke's stare, though it might just have been her own jolt of melancholy reflecting back at her. Her focus drifted away towards the walls of the quarters over Clarke's shoulders. Then, at the distinct feeling of having another pair of eyes fixed upon her, Lexa dropped her attention lower and found Indra staring up at her.

"Hi," Lexa greeted gently, giving the young girl a friendly smile and a wave. Indra looked up at her mother, uncertain.

"It's ok, Indra. This is my friend, Lexa. And her girlfriend, Clarke," Luna assured, also speaking to Indra in gonasleng to confirm Indra would be able to understand the visitors.

"Hey," Clarke said with a more awkward wave of her own. She was always a little more wary around children. It had taken her weeks to muster the courage to offer to help with the novitiate's lessons. Lexa never understood her nerves. Both Marion and Kalvan adored Clarke. Most especially when she forgoed teaching them about healing, in favor of art lessons.

"I've known Lexa since she was younger than you," Luna told Indra.

Indra blinked in the information. "I'm three and a half," she announced brightly to Lexa.

"That's a great age," Lexa replied.

"Come on and get yourselves comfortable," Luna urged now that all introductions were out of the way and her young daughter was settled with the arrival of strangers. "Shall I take your coats? We keep it pretty warm in here for Milos."

"Thanks," Clarke responded, taking her tan leather jacket off quickly.

Lexa's formal coat took longer, and Lexa was relieved when it was off, more aware of just how hot she was now that Luna had pointed the temperature out. Luna claimed both garments from her guests, and moved off to store them in a cloakroom, leaving Lexa and Clarke momentarily alone with Indra.

"Come sit," Indra demanded, bolder now the child understood what was going on. She marched over to the seating area and pointed enthusiastically to the couch.

"Is my daughter bossing you about? No idea where she gets that from," Luna's voice came from inside the cloakroom. "Please feel free to make yourselves at home. Don't worry about your boots, not like there's mud to worry about down here," she called.

With the invitation given from the correct person, Lexa and Clarke followed Indra and simultaneously claimed a place on the couch. Lexa guessed that Clarke was just as keenly aware as she was of Indra watching them the entire time.

"You have pretty hair," Indra announced. She was looking at Clarke.

Lexa had to smile, a little surprised that Indra had engaged with Clarke first, when Lexa could feel Clarke's wariness coming off her in waves. She couldn't really argue with the assessment however.

Clarke gave a nervy laugh, "Thanks, I - uh - I grew it myself," she responded. "I like your hair too. It's really curly."

"That's because Maman and Papa have curly hair," Indra replied sagely. "So I have extra curly hair."

Lexa laughed at the sound reasoning of a child. Indra was bright for her young age, though Lexa supposed that made sense given who Indra's mother was. As a nightblood, Luna had been expected to mature quickly, and you passed on what you knew to your own offspring. Lexa found herself wondering if Luna had passed her black blood onto either of her children.

"This is cool," Indra started up again. Apparently Clarke had just entered herself into a battle of compliments. It was her tattoo sleeve that Indra poked a finger at, revealed by Clarke's rolled up sleeve. "Did you draw it on?"

"I didn't put it on my arm, no," Clarke admitted, "but I did draw the pictures first, for the man who did to copy from."

Lexa noted the way that Indra's eyed widened, like she'd just heard some amazing news. "Maman!" Indra called out.

Summoned, Luna finally appeared in the seating area. She was carrying a tray of drinks with her, which she deposited on the low metal table set before the couch. "Yes?"

"Can I take Clarke to my room? We are going to draw," Indra announced, without bothering to consult with Clarke first.

Lexa turned to Clarke and gave a shrug, far too amused to be slighted that she had not made quite the same impression on Indra.

"Well, did you ask Clarke if she wants to do that, first?" Luna prompted.

Indra groaned, throwing her head back dramatically. The action only gave Lexa more flashbacks to a young, equally sassy Luna. "Clarke, do you want to draw with me?" Indra asked, "I have felt tips and crayons," she added to sweeten the deal. There was surely no getting past the child.

"She has felt tips and crayons," Lexa repeated with a gasp, despite knowing what only the latter were.

"How could I say no to that? If your Mom doesn't mind?" Clarke answered.

Luna gave a laugh, "Not at all. Have fun. Indra, make sure everything goes tidy when you're done," she said.

"Yes, Maman. Come on, Clarke," Indra grabbed at Clarke's wrist and tugged, impatient to get right to whatever masterpiece she had in mind for them to produce. With little choice but to comply, Clarke rose off the couch and let herself be pulled along and out of the room.

Lexa watched them go with an unrestrained grin on her face, feeling a huge wave of affection for her niron in the wake of Clarke making such an impression on Indra. Children were almost always much more discerning about character than adults managed to be. Lexa had to believe that any lingering doubts Luna might have about Clarke's trustworthiness had just been effectively quashed by her own three year old daughter. She did a double take when Luna read her expression as something completely different.

"You're not getting broody, are you?" Luna asked, voice light. She collapsed into an armchair across from the couch.

Lexa felt herself gulp and she tensed her jaw. "Luna," she muttered.

Realising the complex implications of her joking, Luna's face grew serious, "Right, stupid question," Luna realised, and then, in her best impression of Titus, "the whole clan is your child, it's traditions your spouse, to whom you must remain ever faithful."

Lexa wanted to laugh but couldn't. Not a day went by that she didn't count her fortune at finding someone who didn't mind sharing Lexa with the whole Kongeda. Just as she would never dream of coming between Clarke and her duties to Skaikru. That careful balance would always require sacrifices from both of them. A quiet, stable family life right at the top of that list. These thoughts seemed to weigh her down more than usual, sitting on Luna's couch in the home that Luna had made for herself, Luna's life being so far away from the responsibilities that had landed on Lexa's shoulders in the end.

"Did you tell Indra that you have a daughter named for her?" Lexa asked, changing the topic.

"I didn't," Luna admitted. "Would you tell her for me when you return home?"

"Of course," Lexa promised.

Silence fell between the friends, until Luna broke it, "It still feels like I don't know where to start with you, Lexa," she professed, maybe a little sadly.

"Now that I know what you are protecting over here," Lexa said, wanting Luna to be certain that her troubling decisions were at last understood. Even if Lexa wasn't sure yet if they'd ever be properly forgiven. "Maybe you could at last tell me the tale of how you got here, after you sailed away from the shores of your old home." Lexa gestured around at the space, to indicate that she wished to hear everything, and be brought right up to date.

Luna hummed. "I'm afraid it isn't all that interesting. I made land further north than where we sailed to. Found the same desolation you did. I was living off the land, making my way further into the continent day by day, when I was found by a group of prospectors from Europa. Of course, they knew I wasn't one of them immediately, and I was promptly sent into quarantine down here in Chambre Centrale."

"They never tried to attack you?" Lexa asked.

"No. Europa has always swayed towards curiosity, over hostility to the unknown. Maybe it's a product of the way most people came to exist down here. Or a direct answer to how the world ended. Either way, once I was deemed safe to be among the other people, I was let out of quarantine and properly introduced to the President," Luna explained.

"President Dominique?"

"No, her predecessor, Paolo. Dominique was voted into power a few months after my arrival, as a direct result of Paolo being opposed to making contact with the Kongeda. Word of my arrival had spread through the whole society. The people of Europa wanted the certainty of knowing all about the people across the sea. Dominique was the Prospector Delegate until she was chosen as the new President. Chosen because she openly supported first contact. We've all been waiting for this moment for a long time, Lexa."

Though Lexa had already judged President Dominique to be a skilled leader, finding that she had played such a large part in getting the two societies to this point set Lexa more at ease. She had always wondered just how much Luna had pushed for the meeting to happen. If the idea of peaceful contact came from Europa itself, then Lexa found it a little easier to imagine that the society's government would not want to betray the will of it's people. But then, there was always the slight risk that they might.

"I'm back," Gabor's voice cut in. He took the remaining armchair for himself. Lexa waited courteously as Luna and Gabor spoke to one another in Europan. Though she didn't understand a word, Lexa smiled at the sound of husband and wife laughing together at something Gabor had said.

"So, how did you two meet?" Lexa enquired once the couple grew quiet. She was keen to move the conversation back away from politics. It was quite ridiculous, but being sat on a social call in the home of her friend, of her big sister, was still a little unbelievable. A most unexpected gift. They were never supposed to have reached this point in their lives, to have gained what they had. Yet here they both were. She and Luna may have drifted far apart in many ways, but Lexa was now sure of one thing. They would always, always remain a pair of troublesome rule breakers.

Night had long since fallen by the time the team assembled to accompany Chancellor Sinclair to Polis were ready to leave. The activity in the ruined settlement had come to a standstill, the survivors gathering in a large clump ready to see the rover on its way. Raven had been chosen to drive the vehicle, since it was the one she had adjusted for herself. Now, she scanned the many faces in the waiting crowd, seeing the same exhaustion that she felt in most of the faces she saw. When everyone had been accounted for, whether they were alive or not, that hadn't put a stop to the work. Equipment still needed to be salvaged from the wreck, and it was this task that everyone would return to once the rover was gone. It was unlikely that any of Skaikru would be getting sleep tonight, even if anybody felt like they could. Despite her tiredness, Raven still felt wired herself, pumped up on adrenaline that she hoped would last throughout the drive to Polis.

Plans had been put into place for Arkadia's survivors to journey to the farm in the morning, where they could pack into the shelter of the farmhouse. Raven guessed that everyone would be keen to leave the wrecked sight behind them, but it was too dangerous to make the journey on foot in the middle of the night. Besides that, the second rover was due back to Arkadia from the farm at any time, carrying with it the few farmers that still lived in Arkadia. And Jaha too. Raven recalled hearing that he was going to hold his second support group tonight. The thought made her sick. Jaha would have to wait for his next session, but when he got around to it, Raven could imagine many more people would feel the need to attend. For now though, it was the other rover they needed even more than emotional support. The vehicle would come in handy for transporting those with the most serious injuries. Raven winced as she imagined the panic Bryan, Miller Senior, and Mrs Green will feel when they approach the ruined settlement in the rover and see what has become of their home. At least they would go on to find Miller and Monty alive. Raven located Monty in the crowd as she thought about him, and felt compelled to start making her goodbyes.

"I'm going to get the old girl fired up," she mentioned to Chancellor Sinclair, tired of standing next to him feeling like a spare part. The Chancellor paid her little mind, still discussing the planned move to the farm for the nth time to Abby.

Decided, Raven left Sinclair and Abby to it, trusting that the Chancellor would make it to the rover in due course. She jogged her way over to the crowd, heading right for Monty, Raion, and Harper. She realised that it was an almost identical scene to when she had arrived back in Arkadia from Polis, though the situation was now reversed and the reflection much more somber. Still, Raven had to stop and grin at the sight of Monty standing close to Raion, each of them holding one of Jonathan's twins. Raven opened her mouth to tease, but found she was unable to. The knowledge of why Monty and Raion had been entrusted with such a precious task hit Raven full force, making her feel winded. Her grin contorted into a deep frown.

"They're not that scary, Raven. At least not when they are sleeping," Monty chided on Raven's behalf, though the smile he gave did not reach his eyes. Raven knew that he was totally aware of her dark train of thought.

Still at a loss for words, Raven merely drew closer to Monty, approaching him from the side so that she could give him a careful hug. "I'll see you soon," she managed to get out at last. Raven landed a peck on Monty's cheek to make up for the awkwardness of their embrace. Monty's subsequent groan at her affection fired up Raven's urge to make fun again, and she raised a hand and thoroughly ruffled Monty's hair.

"Drive safely, Raven. And give those stuffy politicians in the capital hell for us," Monty requested. "Or, you know, grovel to them as needed."

Raven gave a salute. "Come on, Sinclair is taking myself and Octavia. We've got this," she assured.

"Sounds like we're going to be missing a right spectacle, Monty," Harper chimed in now, edging closer until the small group had formed their exclusive circle among the larger crowd. Raven's attention turned to Harper at the sound of her voice, and she felt a wave of sadness pass over her as they locked eyes.

Harper had to stay behind as acting Guard Captain while Miller was out of action. Though Raven knew that Harper would take her duties very seriously, and play a large part in getting the survivors moved safely to the farm, she got the impression that Harper would still have preferred her own spot in the rover. She probably would have called shotgun, in fact.

The two of them took stock of one another a moment, Raven overcome with an immense feeling of gratitude for all Harper had done to help her through the aftermath of the collapse. Their parting stung more for the fact that they'd barely left one another's sides throughout the whole ordeal. Silently, Raven barrelled forward and Harper caught her in a tight hug.

"Thank you," Raven whispered, perching her chin on Harper's shoulder. "Thanks for sticking by me."

"Wish I still could," Harper muttered back, confirming what Raven already knew. "You just remember what we talked about, before all this happened, ok? And look after yourself. Please," Harper implored.

Raven felt tears forming as she heard Harper's true request under the spoken words. Harper was asking her not to blame herself for what had happened. She sniffled and nodded meekly against Harper's shoulder. Raven felt Harper tighten their hug in response, making the plastic armor of Harper's guard uniform dig into her chest uncomfortably. It did nothing to perturb Raven, however, and they stayed that way for some time. As if the harder and longer they held onto one another, the more likely it might be that all the destruction around them would just melt away. Finally, Raven pulled out of the hug. When she did, she saw that Harper had started crying, too.

"Urgh," Raven moaned, "look at us. It's not like it's the parting of the fellowship, or something."

"I mean, it kind of is," Monty argued back. He was right. The three of them had stuck together for an entire year, and upon their return home they still hadn't grown weary of the company of the other two. If that wasn't a fellowship of sorts, Raven didn't know what was.

"What the hell are you both talking about?" Harper asked obliviously.

Raven's eyes grew wide. "What?"

"What?" Monty scoffed simultaneously.

"The Lord of the Rings?" Raven prompted, disbelieving.

Harper pulled a face, "You mean you nerds actually read those books?" Harper gave a lopsided smile, "Aren't they just about people running over fields? Which is basically what we've ended up doing way too much of down here," she continued to snipe.

Raven mustered as much offence into her expression as she could manage. She had in fact read all of the books, several times over. Those tales, along with almost every book the Ark had on its mainframe, had been little beacons of hope throughout Raven's childhood. And she would not hear a single word against them. "You're such a jock, Harper," Raven hit back, shaking her head in disappointment that wasn't entirely feigned.

Harper could only shrug and look bashfully to the ground.

"Well, time for me to take the ring to Mordor," Raven quipped. It felt like the longer she stayed facing her friends, the more likely it would be that Raven would change her mind and simply refuse to go. So, with little ceremony, Raven offered a wave and turned about, fighting the urge to look back the entire walk to the rover. Raven ground her teeth as she opened the door and climbed in behind the wheel.

"Ready to go?" Octavia's voice sounded from the back of the vehicle.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Raven let out, trying to keep her voice from cracking. She looked at Octavia through the rear view mirror. Even Octavia's reflection was exuding an impatience to leave, in absolute contrast to Raven's reluctance.

The passenger side door snapped open and Chancellor Sinclair climbed into his seat. He peered into the back of the rover to his assembled team and gave a nod to them all, before looking at Raven.

"We'd best not delay any longer," Sinclair urged.

Raven motioned her head in agreement and turned the key in the ignition, bringing the rover to life. She was about to release the handbrake, when Sinclair stopped her by catching her hand in midair.

"Sorry I blanked you earlier," the Chancellor apologised, making it known that he had heard Raven after all.

"It's fine," Raven answered sincerely, "you've got a lot on your plate."

"We all do," Sinclair stressed. His expression turned softer, more caring. "Are you sure you're up for this journey, Chief?" he asked, keeping his voice low even though it wouldn't stop the people in the back of the rover from overhearing.

Raven made a noncommittal face. "Sure, I have to be," she sighed. The answer didn't satisfy herself, let alone Sinclair. Raven felt herself sit straighter in the driver's seat. "Yeah, I'm ready."

"Good. Because you know what happened wasn't your fault," Sinclair went on. "That wreck must have been unstable for ages. If you hadn't gotten us ready to start work on the arch so quickly, that thing could have collapsed on us when the main building was occupied."

"Right, not as much of a screw up as it could have been," Raven muttered, though she was really trying her hardest to take Sinclair's words, and Harper's similar ones, onboard. Though it was difficult not to feel guilty, now that the red mist had lifted from Raven's view, she knew that she shouldn't tear herself up over this. That what the Chancellor was saying rang completely true. Yet being aware that such behavior was destructive, and actually avoiding said behavior, were two vastly different things.

The rover growled as Raven's foot found and lightly pressed the accelerator. With her mind starting to feel overfull, she found that she was growing a little more eager to get going. If anything, the drive to Polis would give her time to settle her thoughts. It was one of the reasons why she had come to love driving so much. All she had to do was to forget about the help they were going to have to beg for upon reaching their destination.

Raven felt Sinclair let go of her hand, silently giving her the go-ahead. She took off the handbrake and gave the rover some gas, guiding the vehicle the rest of the way out of the gates and away from the disaster zone. Raven kept the pace steady for now, so that the gathered crowd could wave them off for a good while and better enjoy their respite from the work that awaited them.

With the way ahead clear for some distance, Raven let her attention drift to her wing mirror. She saw the reflection of the crowd as it moved as one, coming to stand between the gates to watch the vehicle go. At the front of the crowd, growing smaller and smaller with each turn of the wheels, were Monty and Harper. Seeing them heading the group made Raven hyper aware of just how much she hated abandoning the camp again, despite how necessary the mission was. Raven's hands gripped tighter to the steering wheel, and she floored the accelerator before she could think about putting the rover into reverse. Arkadia had already taken several paces backwards today. She didn't need to add to them.