Here's chapter two! It's short and probably a little bland, but necessary to set up future relationships. Enjoy :)

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It had been a week since Clarke had come to Polis with the Commander. Set up in Polis tower, which was where Lexa lived, she had been placed in a large, furnished room on the same floor as Lexa due to her status as Wanheda and given freedom to come and go as she pleased, provided two guards be with her for safety. Her needs would be sought to by the servants assigned to her, but Lexa would come to check on her every so often.

The first few nights were difficult for Clarke. She could barely rest in the new environment, on high alert for danger. She ate little, suspicious of the food. She prevented anyone from coming into the room, distrustful of everyone. It had gotten to the point that Lexa had to personally assure the jumpy blonde that if she wanted to harm or kill her, she would have done so without preamble. The logic allowed Clarke to begin to relax and assume a semblance of normalcy she had nearly forgotten.

The first thing Clarke did was bathe. Her servants quickly set up the tub, studiously ignoring the piercing stare Wanheda set upon them, before leaving her to her own devices. When she slipped into the warm water, the blonde released a blissful moan. The heat was a welcome treat for the tense muscles, gently coaxing them into a state of relaxation. She almost fell asleep. Instead, when the water began to cool, she thoroughly washed her body and hair. Once finished, the water had turned brown from her filth, earning a disgusted grimace from her.

When the servants returned to dispose of the water, Clarke queried about food. Soon after, several plates of food were delivered to her. One plate held meat and potatoes, another vegetable and bread, and the last had fruit. The large servings were a Godsend to Clarke who had not eaten a full meal in weeks and even less during the past few days. The first bites had her eyes rolling back as she savored the flavor, allowing herself to take the time to enjoy her meal, for once. Even so, the food was gone quickly and the woman groaned from an overly-full stomach.

And finally, with a clean body and clothes and a full belly, Clarke buried herself in the furs on the large bed and slept deeply, her nightmares absent for once.

Now, Clarke was strolling down the city streets, conscious of the two guards following behind her. Although she was uncomfortable from the attention she was receiving, something she had gotten used to during her travels, it felt good to be around people again.

The blonde had been fondly watching a group of children play-fighting when she heard her name. Turning, Clarke gave an excited grin when she saw a familiar face.

"Darren!" She went and clasped the man's large forearm, his hand dwarfing her own arm. He was a bear of a man, tall and broad with thick cords of muscle and tanned from many days under the sun. He stood an easy two heads over Clarke.

"And here I thought I would never see you again!" He grinned, gray eyes twinkling. "I hear Heda has offered you board here in Polis?"

Clarke nodded, warm smile still in place. "Yes. I was hesitant, but so far I have been treated well."

"If Heda promised her protection, then you shall be protected, you stubborn little thing."

Clarke offered the man a wry grin, glancing back at her two guards. "I'm beginning to see that. What brings you to Polis? Is your family doing ok?"

"They are here. I am representing my village in the Games. Cynthia and the children wished to cheer for me." He explained, his barrel chest puffing out with pride.

"The Games?" Clarke's eyebrows furrowed. "What's that?"

The bearded man deflated at the blonde's ignorance, although it did not come as a shock to him. He knew of her non-Grounder heritage.

"It is a yearly celebration meant to keep the Coalition bonded. One warrior from each village in every Clan is chosen to represent their village in friendly combat. First," Darren held up one finger, "warriors from each Clan will battle each other until there is one victor from every Clan. Then, each victor from each Clan will be set against each other. The winner brings their Clan glory and pride."

Clarke listened with rapt attention, her curiosity peaked.

"There are many festivities and side competitions others can partake it, like archery, blacksmithing, hunting, art, and other things. There are many prizes and inflated egos to be had," Darren joked.

Clarke chuckled at that, knowing full well the truth behind that statement. "Perhaps Heda found me at the right time." She mused.

The two exchanged more conversation in the middle of the crowded street until Darren excused himself to meet with his family for dinner. After requesting he deliver her regards to his family, Clarke promised to view the man's fight when the time came before they continued on with their separate endeavors.

On her way back to her quarters, the blonde thought of Darren and the battle skills he had bestowed upon her when she came upon his village her first month of isolation. She knew he would do well, her current living status proving as much. The baseline of her hand-to-hand combat skills had come from him, along with her sword-play. Although she learned much from him and grew fond of the hulking man, Clarke had not been planning to stay in one place. A little over one month had passed when she left in search of a new village. Her travels led her to having well-rounded fighting and survival skills, the combination having kept her alive and free when she was being hunted.

Shaking the thoughts of the last few months from her head, knowing the memories of death would be quick to appear, Clarke made her way into her quarters. Once in the privacy of the room, she breathed a sigh of relief. While she had missed socialized and being around people, the months of solitude made the blonde unused to masses of people and left her feeling virtually claustrophobic.

Small doses, she decided.

Just as Clarke moved to lay on the bed, a knock on the bedroom door sounded. Eying it warily, she called out for entrance.

Head held high and shoulders back, Lexa strode into the room, dressed in her typical all-black ensemble and red sash, minus the shoulder guard and war paint. She did have a curious gear symbol situated between her eyebrows that immediately drew Clarke's attention.

"Hello, Clarke," She greeted, the blonde's name rolling off her tongue in a way no one seemed able to replicate. Her hands folded behind her back. "I heard you ventured into the city today. Was the experience pleasant?"

"It was." Clarke paused, unsure of whether to go into more detail or not.

Seeming to sense her guest's hesitance, Lexa stood silently in patience. She noted the tenseness of her posture, pleased to see the Sky Girl was more relaxed compared to her first few nights. She expected the girl's wariness would take time to decline and was unsurprised to be met with it.

When answered with silence, Clarke decided to elaborate. "I...ran into an old friend. He told me he was participating in the Games."

"You know of the Games?" If Lexa was surprised, she did not show it.

But Clarke had seen it in the very nearly imperceptible twitch of a dark eyebrow.

"Darren, my friend, told me about it."

Lexa nodded her head absently. "Well, feel free to partake in the festivities. In the meantime, do you have need of anything?" When Clarke answered in the negative, the Commander took her leave, uttering the blonde's name as only she seemed to manage when she said, "Until next time, Clarke."

"'Til next time, Heda."

That night, Clarke had shot up from the comfort of the bed, hair sticking to her sweaty skin while her chest heaved with desperate gasps. She trembled, eyes wide and staring at nothing. Her heart raced in her chest.

She was at the Mountain again, but instead of pulling the lever that enabled eradiated air into the ventilation systems of the compound, she had traveled down stretched hallways, cutting down all those she encountered with a sword. Their blood painted the floors and walls in red. As she passed them, their bodies would burn and blister, radiation following close behind her. With each death, her soul seemed to darken and die. Screams and pleas filled her ears from faraway, sounding almost muted. The scent of iron overtook the sterile, stale air surrounding her. It was when she came across the children that her mind could handle no more and forced her into wakefulness.

Clarke inhaled shakily and glanced at the watch on her wrist. 1:47 a.m.

"Damn," she muttered, shoulders sagging.

Knowing sleep would not return for a while, Clarke left the bed. She pulled on her clothes and boots prior to exiting her room, the two guards stationed at her door close behind.

The cool night air enveloped her heated body as she exited the building. With no particular destination in mind, Clarke paced down the quiet streets, the heavy footsteps and metallic clangs from her guards the only sounds she heard. The moon was half-formed, waning, and the stars numerous and twinkling. They provided enough light to prevent the blonde from colliding with anything. It was not until she came upon the edge of the forest she had called home for approximately a year that she stopped.

For a long moment, Clarke stared into the trees. She could sense her guards' unease and she wondered if they feared she would take to the forest. That was not her intent. So far, she was safe in Polis under the Commander's protection. She had plenty of food, clean clothes, a warm bed; there was no reason to leave. It had been so long since Clarke could afford to rest. She was nowhere near ready to give that up. She just...the forest shaped her into the person she was. It made her strong, independent, fit, and self-sufficient. It broke her down and forced her to build herself up into a person who could survive the ground. For that, she would always be grateful for her hardships. She would always feel a connection to the forest.

"Wanheda." One of the guards called out, his voice baritone and drawing her attention. "It is not safe to be near the trees. Many still seek to capture you."

He was right, Clarke knew, so she offered no resistance and led them back into the city. She had been outside long enough, anyways. Her body felt ready to return to sleep. Her mind had calmed.

As Polis Tower grew closer, Clarke asked, "What are your names?"

The same warrior who spoke earlier said, "I am Augustus and he is Nunka."

Clarke glanced back at the two men, noting their similar facial features and athletic builds. "Are you brothers?"

"Yes Wanheda." This time, it was Nunka who answered. His voice was quieter than his brother's, yet still deep.

Clarke nodded. "You two must be skilled to be part of Heda's guard."

The men were silent, not wanting to boast of their prowess. They exchanged glances, not knowing how to answer.

Thankfully, Clarke continued, "Would you be willing to train me? I have not forgotten the bounty on my head."

To say Augustus and Nunka were shocked was an understatement. The regard Wanheda held was second only to Heda. To train with either was considered a privilege, but to be considered to have skills sought after by a woman whose reputation was practically legendary was beyond that. It was an immense honor only a fool would deny.

"O-Of course, Wanheda!" Augustus stuttered, brown eyes wide.

"We would be honored!" Nunka agreed, shooting an amazed glance at his brother.

Clarke was ignorant of what her request meant to the guards. With her back to them, she did not see the almost giddy expressions on their faces. She could tell they were excited, but attributed it to them being able to do more than stand at her door or follow her around.

"Your next day shift we'll start, then," Clarke said.

Both men replied in unison, "Yes, Wanheda!"

They were in the tower now. At the door to Clarke's room, she bid them goodnight once they assumed their posts.