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Clarke the Captive

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Night fell on Ton DC, as whispers of The Commander’s impending arrival surrounded the village. Anya could always tell when Lexa was going to return to Ton DC. It was a sixth sense she’d developed after the years of teaching The Commander as her warrior. She could feel it in the way the hair on her neck stood up, and the feeling in her gut that presented itself as soon as news came that she was on her way.

She could also see it in the way Indra tensed up, as well. The chief wasn’t scared of The Commander so much as she was paranoid that Lexa would find something to be disappointed in with Ton DC’s warriors. Making sure they were trained to perfection, was what Indra prided herself on, and Anya knew that anything less than approval would be devastating to the woman.

“You’ve got to get a hold of yourself, Indra.” Anya instructed softly in Trigedasleng. “You will be no help in showing Heda how well put together we are here if you keep worrying like this.”

“Our seconds are in their best shape. I am not worried about them. It is Clarke, who I am worried about making us look foolish.”

“You must be lighter on Clarke. She is not one of us and she cannot be blamed for what she may say or do. She is unused to the pressures that come with Heda’s visits.”

“Sticking up for Clarke is out of character for you, Anya. There are few people I’ve seen you defend like this.”

Anya bristled at the woman’s subtle implications. “What you’re implying is so ridiculous, I will not even bother to acknowledge it.”

Indra still scowled, unmoved. “Clarke is prisoner here, Anya. It will do you well to remember that.”

The venomous reply on the tip of Anya’s tongue did not get the chance to be heard, for the two women’s disagreement was interrupted as a young second ran into the tent.

“Chief!” The boy panted. “Heda has been injured!”

Indra’s eye widened, and she and Anya ran out of the tent. “Someone get Clarke.” She ordered the guards that had followed them.

As they neared the entrance, they could see that the group of warriors that had accompanied The Commander were in terrible shape. Some of them were limping, some were bleeding and being held up by others. Their eyes; however, instantly locked onto The Commander, who was slumped over on her horse.

“Help me get her down.” Anya shouted to the guard who had followed her to The Commander, as they reached for the injured woman.

“Anya.” The Commander greeted her former mentor normally as if she didn’t have 2 arrows sticking out of her body.

“Lexa, what happened?” Anya asked, bringing The Commander’s uninjured arm over her shoulder as the warrior helped her down.

“We were ambushed. They were drifters. No clan affiliation was recognizable.”

“No one but Clarke touches her.” Indra ordered, coming up behind them. “Get her to the healer’s hut.”


In the dark of the healer’s hut, Tris tripped on nothing in particular on her way into Clarke’s room. Unfortunately, even with the noise, the blonde didn’t wake as she needed her to.

“Clarke, wake up! Clarke!” Tris spoke loudly, shaking the sleeping woman’s shoulder.

“Tris, what’s going on?” Clarke mumbled, her eyes struggling to open.

“Heda is here, but she is injured. Anya sent me to get you. They need you right away.”

Clarke recognized the Grounder’s name for The Commander and her eyes shot open. She stood up abruptly, searching for the pants she had discarded to the floor when she’d gotten into bed.

“I’ll see what I can do. Where is she?”

“They’re on their way.”

Clarke rushed into the main room, to quickly make sure there was an open table for her to operate on The Commander. She could hear the loud, distressed shouts coming from the entrance of the village, and wondered how badly the rest of The Commander’s party would need medical attention. The group hurried into the hut, and Clarke took a deep breath, psyching herself up.

“Bring her in. Put her on the table.” The blonde instructed, and The Commander let out a grunt as they assisted her onto the table. Clarke was trying to asses The Commander’s injuries, but immediately was distracted as a familiar face caught her eye.


The disheveled brunette focused on her. “Oh my god, Clarke!”

Clarke was unable to ask the girl she hadn’t seen in months any questions, for her attention was drawn back to Lexa who was trying to cover her pained groans.

“What happened to her?” Clarke inquired, looking up at Anya as she bent over The Commander.

“The Commander’s convoy was attacked.”  

“I’ll need to remove the arrows, but neither look too bad.”

“Don’t mess this up, Clarke. You’ll have all of the 12 Clans to answer to.” The warrior woman reminded her.

Clarke nodded, beginning to feel the pressure that was now on her.  “I need everyone out. Anya and Indra may stay, but someone needs to go find Nyko. I may need help.”

She went to the side of the room with shelves and cabinets that held the supplies. She grabbed a bottle of alcohol, some herbs and some bandages, before hurrying back to table Lexa was on.  The Commander had been shot twice, but it was difficult for Clarke to tell what exactly the damage was.

Before Clarke could get a knife to cut the thin jacket Lexa was wearing off, The Commander saw where she was looking and ripped the remainder of thin material off, leaving just her chest bindings. One arrow had gone through the area connecting the woman’s shoulder with her torso, while the other had punctured her side.

“I’m sorry, Commander. This may sting, but I need to sterilize the areas.”

“Just do it.” Lexa said through gritted teeth.

Drizzling the alcohol over each wound, Clarke could feel The Commander tense up. She moved her hands to the arrow in the woman’s shoulder. This wasn’t the first time that Clarke had removed an arrow from someone’s shoulder, and with the arrow going through completely, it was going to be easy to remove.

Without bending the shaft and worsening the injury, Clarke snapped the arrow in half, right above the head, and grabbed a clean cloth. Clarke slowly began easing the arrow out, quickly holding the cloth to each side as soon as the it was gone. Taking one of the bandages she had picked up, she finished by wrapping it.

“One down. One to go.” Clarke gave Lexa a reassuring smile.

The wound in Lexa’s side looked like it was going to give Clarke much more trouble than the last one, and just by barely wiggling the arrow around, she could tell removing it wasn’t going to be an easy task. Looking at the positioning, Clarke could see that the tip had entered in between two of the woman’s ribs, leaving her only two options for removal.

If the arrow was constructed traditionally, odds were the tendon connecting the head to the shaft was going to become soft and loosen due to the blood now coating it. However, there was a chance the drifters made their arrows differently, and Clarke would be able to remove it quickly and without leaving the head behind.

“What is taking you so long?” Anya’s agitated tone interrupted her thought process, as Clarke was trying to figure out how to proceed.

The blonde gave her a look, silencing any further rushing Anya planned to do. With the steadiest hands she could, Clarke took one of the small, sharp knives from her supplies and cut the wound open a bit more. She slowly pulled on the arrow, praying the entire thing came out. Much to her dismay, it did not.

“Shit.” She whispered under her breath, causing everyone in the room to give her an alarmed look. “Commander, I’m sorry, but I’m going to need to pull the arrow head out. And it’s gonna hurt.”

Lexa didn’t reply this time, but nodded and closed her eyes, bracing herself for the inevitable pain.

Taking both the bottle of alcohol and a pair of small pliers, Clarke gave herself a quick count of three, before quickly pouring the liquid over the wound. Lexa released a hissing noise, and Clarke ignored it, focusing instead on carefully moving the pliers around in the opening until she felt the arrow head. When she finally found it, she gave a quick tug and it was removed.

Despite the quickness of the removal, when Clarke looked at The Commander, the woman had fallen unconscious. Before Clarke could understand what was happening, Indra had crossed the room and drawn her sword, pointing it at Clarke.

“Are you serious right now?” Clarke asked in astonish. “She’s fine. Her body is in shock and the pain was a lot. I didn’t kill her.”

Anya set her hand on Indra’s shoulder, and the older woman lowered her sword. “She better wake up, Clarke.”

Clarke’s jaw clenched. “Right now she needs to be stitched up, before the injury gets infected. Just let me do my job. I have nothing to gain from murdering The Commander.”