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Amaranthine

Amaranthine

Supernova
Joined
Oct 26, 2016
Location
Canada
How long had it been since she had walked away from Arkadia? Clarke Griffin would be lying if she tried to say she didn't know the exact amount of time - fifty eight days, and counting.

One came after the other and with every day that passed the blonde grew more accustomed to the wilderness. Those "Earth Skills" classes were working a miracle - and in the loneliness she thrived. Or, more like it, in the loneliness she knew that another betrayal would never fall upon her, and that she would never have to face those who she had inadvertently hurt. Nearly two months ago she had to make the call to irradiate Mount Weather, costing hundreds their lives, and there was no moment that didn't haunt her. In her sleep, when she was awake. She was a murderer, whether she did it for her people or not. Because of that, she could not face those people. How could she face those who lived when the dead still haunted her?

For the fifty-eighth day in a row, the blonde found shelter. Tonight she hunkered down in a bunker, old metal walls grown over in ivy and foliage. It's not the warmest but she has a fur blanket to wrap herself up with, and there's food for her to eat - a rabbit that she had caught earlier in the day. As the sun set in the distance, dappling oranges and purples between the rapidly falling tree line, she set a fire. Then, for the first moment that day, she lowered her guard and warmed her hands over the small burning bundle.
 
Rylen was always watching but never watched, assigned by the Heda herself to keep his watchful eyes on one rogue "Clarke Griffin" - or, as those in his village and many others called her after the destruction of all those living within Mount Weather, "Wanheda". It translated to "commander of death", a name born to the woman who's destruction struck the hearts of all. Many would kill to have her, and many would kill her. The Commander herself, it seemed, wished for her to be alive and well. The adult male didn't question his Heda's orders and simply followed them. The goal was simple: keep the Wanheda safe, and once possible bring her to Polis.

Sometimes he lost her - not often though, and never for long. Tonight he watched from afar, waiting for the right chance to strike. Rylen had been given orders to try and return Wanheda to Polis, lest Azgeda get their hands on her. Clarke would stand no chance against an army and reports had come that Azgeda's soldiers were making a mount on Polis. The woman would fight, that he had little doubt of, but his pure muscle outweighed her and he stood a chance. Clarke looked almost peaceful, though he knew from the nights he had watched her that no peace befell her. As she sat by the fire he crept in towards her and, as the fire crackled and snapped, he lunged forward to push her down to the ground and pull her arms behind her back. If he could pin her, he would bind her hands with rope.
 
Clarke had expected to watch the fire in front of her in peace. After she warmer her hands up she had pulled out a pot, made a little support thing above the fire to support it, and then poured some water she had collected from a river nearby in to it. She needed to boil it to make it safe to drink, and that was her plan as what remained in her canteen was running low. When the man who had been watching her attacked, she had been unsuspecting. She let out a scream her and body fell to the dirt ground beneath her as the man's body toppled her over, yanking her arms hard behind her back. She let out a scream as her shoulder was pushed a little bit too far and yanked against the man's hold, struggling to get free. She didn't know what was going on - why she was being attacked or who was doing the attacking. All the blonde knew was that she feared for her life, and adrenaline was a hell of a drug. For all she knew she was about to be killed or raped, and she had no plans for either of those things happening tonight.

Her heart pounded in her chest, a loud thud that echoed in to her ears, as she attempted to pull her arms free. She yanked and pulled, desperate to free herself. At the same time she used her legs, still free, to try to kick at him. For several moments it seemed like she stood no chance at freeing herself until miraculously she managed to free one hand. Using her new found freedom she rolled - in to him, leaving herself prone but allowing for her to raise her fist to strike at him. As the blonde's fist moved towards the man's face, it became obvious that she would not be going down without a fight.
 
Rylen was surprised by the blonde's strength but not by her will. Half a month now he had followed her, and over those days he had discovered that the Wanheda was a force to be dealt with. Despite being one of the Skaikru she walked the land like it was her own, born of it and raised of it. He saw rookie mistakes in some of her actions, but considering her upbringing he was impressed (though that didn't say much). He had known that she would put up a fight, but her struggle didn't change that he had orders to follow. Whether she liked it or not he would follow through, as so disobey the Heda or break one's worst to her was a crime in of itself.

"Stop!" He yelled in english, trained in the language like many of the warriors of his village and of his Clan. As he spoke he pushed his knee against the blonde's soft abdomen to stop her from moving. Stopping her fist as it flew towards his face took little skill, his reflexes were adept, and once he had hold of the appendage Rylen pinned both of Clarke's arms down against the ground beside her head. At this point he effectively had her pinned, and to show he was serious he pushed her hands a little harder in to dirt and stone. "I don't want to hurt you, but if you don't stop struggling then I will."
 
Clarke didn't stop struggling until her hands, balled in to fists, were pushed in to the dirt below her. The pressure on her abdomen from the man's knee was uncomfortable at best, but there was a seriousness to his tone and expression that said if she didn't give in it would go from uncomfortable to painful. Her face scrunched up in indignation, confused but also terrified as to what was happening. For the most part she was left alone - the wandering Wanheda. Yes, she knew of the name that had been given to her. "Commander of Death" - how suiting of a title for the woman who had murdered many.

"What do you want?" She growled at the man, sounding nearly feral, as unwashed blonde locks splayed around her head. Looking close she is dirty, like she has always belonged in the wilderness and was never a member of civilized society. She was not the Clarke that had walked away from Arkadia anymore. She was not the Clarke from the Ark nor the Clarke from Mount Weather. At times, it was like the name had never suited her in the first place. The fire in her eyes as she stares down the man on top of her, obviously ready to strike, is not like anything that anyone had seen from her ever before.
 
"I have orders to collect you," Rylen replied in an equally tough tone. As long as there was a fire in the Wanheda's eyes, he would not release his hold on her nor would he go easy on her. He had promised the girl would be in Polis by the new moon and that left only two days; the more she fought, the harder he would fight to subdue her. The intent was obvious in his eyes, a deep brown that bore in to her as his lips pressed in to a snarl. He understood how pleasant it must be to be attacked like this, but that didn't stop him from fulfilling his duties. She may not have been moving but that didn't stop him from staying cautious as he pulled her hands in front of her, grasped her wrists together with one large hand, and then secured them together with a length of rope. Now tied, it would be much harder for her to get free - he also imagined it would make her more likely to try to struggle against him. If that happened, he was prepared for it.
 
"What do you mean, you have orders to collect me?" The ratty haired blonde sneered at the man as he pulled at her arms, manipulating her until they were bound in front of her belly. It didn't take long for her to clue in that there was only one person with the command and the soldiers to spare that could have sent this man and that only contorts the displeased expression on Clarke's further. It was the realization that Lexa sent him and not the man who tied her that made her pull her arms away. He could try to subdue her all she liked, but the last person that Clarke wanted to lay her eyes on was Lexa.

The commander was beautiful, demanding, cruel. She had lured Clarke in with deep green eyes and gained the blonde's trust with her promises - only to break it. It was a harsh reality that struck her daily. Maybe had she not relied on the Commander of the Coalition, things could have different. Maybe if she had listened to her gut, and not let the way that Lexa looked at her like she was one in a million sway her. Obviously the affection had been a ruse and she had fallen for it.

"No!" She growled, snarled even. Clarke yanked her wrist back so hard it pulled from the rope and in that moment she was too high on adrenaline to even notice the pain it caused. She rolled away and kicked at the man's stomach before crawling until she could clamber to her feet.

"You tell her that I don't want to see her. Especially her."
 
Her kick connected, leaving Rylen breathless for a moment before he faced himself with the dillemma in front of him. It was becoming obvious that Wanheda would not go easily, but that did not stop him from fulfilling his orders. She may have freed herself but she didn't get far, and this time he grabbed at the back of her shirt. He yanked back, knocking the blonde back down to the ground once again. He hovered over her and grabbed her throat.

"You can tell her yourself when we get to Polis," he said matter-of-factly as he hovered above her. Knowing he wasn't going to be able to get what he wanted easily, he then stood back up and kicked towards her head in hopes of temporarily knocking Clarke unconscious. All Lexa said was that Wanheda had to be returned alive, not that she had to stay injury free. He waa just making this easier on himself. "What you do of your own free will after my job is done does not affect me."
 
Clarke Griffin fought against Rylen until the moment his shoe make contact with the side of her head, knocking her in the temple hard enough that the other side of her skull bashed against the ground. She was surely concussed but she had no time to think about that before her thoughts grew mangled and a haze in her vision followed. A moment later she lost consciousness, and she was his to do with as be pleased.

She awoke and she didn't know how long it had been, her eyes opening to a pure blackness that not even the darkest cave had matched before. Her mouth was pried apart, cloth forming a gag and it took her a moment to realize that the darkness was also caused by clothes wrapped over her eyes. She tested the limits of her body to find that her hands were also tied, this time much tighter and behind her back. She was helpless and had no idea where she was or how long she had been out. On instinct, or maybe in hopes that someone else would find her, Clarke screamed for her life.
 
Several hours passed before Clarke awoke and Rylen had used that time to properly bind her without worrying about her struggling loosening the ropes. After that he had slung her over his shoulder and startes the trek back towards Polis. They had two days to get there and it was a day and a half's journey which meant there was little time to stop and rest. He did, however. It didn't take a genius to know that trying to travel at night was a poor idea. In the end he set up a small shelter out of fallen branches and fern leaves. He left Clarke under its protection and started a fire.

Rylen was maybe ten feet away when she started screaming and in an instant he was on his feet. "Do you want to bring predators upon us? For someone so known you are very stupid." His words were harsh and his tone harsher, but what would hurt the most as the slap on the cheek that the blonde got at the same time. "Now's not the time to fight, though I can't say I'm surprised that you would try anyways."
 
The slap came as a surprise - the sharp sting of an open palm against her cheek made Clarke gasp and then she fell in to silence. With her eyes and mouth covered and her hands tied up, she didn't exactly stand much a chance at fighting. Despite that, she still kicked in the direction of the Rylen's now-familiar voice. At best she would end up kicking up some dirt, but Clarke would be damned if she went without a struggle. If she had to go back... if she had to face Arkadia or Polis or Lexa - ugh. The thought of facing that woman was one of the least appealing ideas in mind. After what had happened, Clarke was not sure that she would be able to face the woman without trying to kill her.

Struggling was useless, though. All Clarke succeeded in doing was wasting energy and eventually she tired herself out after attempting to free at least one of her hands. Obviously Rylen had done a good job securing her, much to her dismay. As her bones grew weak and her body tired, eventually she succumbed back to slumber. Maybe when morning came she would stand a better chance at getting herself free. She would not be giving up easily.
 
Rylen kept an eye on Clarke as she struggled to get free, though he didn't need to make any moves to stop her. It didn't take long before she wore herself out and after that... well, he allowed himself to sleep too. Like always the warrior slept lightly and the moment dawn's light shone over the horizon, his deep brown eyes peeked open. He was leaned against a tree under the makeshift canopy that he had made the night before. Clarke was still asleep several feet away from him, laid slumbering. Even with her arms tied up she looked almost peaceful when in slumber, a drastic change from the wild-eyed woman he had faced the day before.

Despite his orders, the Trikru male was not keep on forcing the blonde to come to Polis. He only held her captive because he was told to, and had the order not been from the Commander herself he would have released her. Rylen valued loyalty over anything else, especially loyalty to his leader, and for that reason he hunched over above the blonde. Waking the soft featured blonde almost felt like a crime, but that didn't stop him from shaking her shoulder with a firm, rough hand. "Get up, it's time to move. If you behave I may take the cloth off of your eyes, Clarke kom Skaikru."
 
The only reason Clarke Griffin slept peacefully was because she slept dreamlessly, a miracle after the many nights that she had fallen victim to nightmares and awoken screaming and flailing. It was not uncommon for her to have bad dreams, often involving either Mount Weather or Lexa herself. Sometimes, when her face ruled her brain, the dreams weren't nightmares. There was peace and happiness and the soft, tender way that Lexa had kissed her. There was forgiveness and peace and in a way that was almost worse than when the images of burnt bodies assaulted her. For the first time since Finn she had thought she may have found someone to feel at peace with.

Being awoken like she had been was starting. Clarke let out a low scream as her body was shook and her instinct was to use her hands to push herself away from her assailant. However she woke up blind and tied, unable to tell what was going on until Rylen's gruff voice spoke and her expression contorted in to negativity. Her lips pulled in to a frown, mangled by the cloth between her lips. "Just let me go," she yelled at him, starting the resistance early though physically she was yet to fight.
 
"I can't do that," the tall, muscular male responded as Clarke plead to be freed. He wished he could - he really did. Rylen was not a mean man. He cared for family, for his village and for those around him. He was gentle with those who could not defend themselves and never let a child run unsafe. An order was an order, however. Clarke's pleas were useless and would not get her anywhere with him. He did relent for one thing though. Already knelt beside her he grabbed for the knot of the blindfold, which was around the back of Clarke's head. He was fully prepared for the fiesty female to attempt to strike him, and would retaliate if necessary, but in that moment his sole goal was to remove the tattered cloth that obscured the blonde's vision.
 
Ryden's instinct was correct; as soon as he leaned in close enough that she could feel his hands above her skin, Clarke's arms jerked as if to try to pull them in front of her face. Obviously she wasn't able to do that given that they were tied behind their back, but the reaction was there, and she whimpered when she realized that she wouldn't be able to protect herself from whatever was happening. Until she realized that the touch wasn't meant to harm, she attempted to pull away. All attempts were feeble, as there was nowhere for her to go and she was already backed up in to a corner. As soon as her vision returned, which shocked the blonde for a moment, a glimpse of confusion flashed through her blue orbs before her features relaxed once more.
 
"Yeah, that's right. I took the damn blindfold off even though you're trying to attack me," Rylen said, obviously displeased, from his spot crouched in front of Clarke, shaking his head at the insolent little girl who obviously had no respect for what he was doing. Clarke wouldn't know it but he wanted to free her just as much as she wished to be freed - but the sooner she got up off her ass and they started moving, the sooner that the girl would be free(ish) to do as she pleased. Because of that, the tall, muscular man grabbed Clarke by the forearm and tried to yank her to her feet.

"Get up, we need to get going." He spoke simply as he pulled on her arm, sparing no words for small talk. Every moment that they spent struggling now was a waste of daylight and he had little interest in such matters.
 
If her lips hadn't been obscured by a ragged cloth, Clarke's responding grimace would have been obvious. With her hands still tied she had little choice but to give in at that moment, so as he yanked her on to her feet that was that. The morning hours were spent on the move, not pausing for even a moment. Over the last two months Clarke had grown used to being in motion for extended periods of time, but being forced to just made her reluctant. The sun was high in the sky when everything changed.

Rylen had stilled her as they moved to cross a field, and why quickly became clear - Azgeda. The Ice Nation were moving in and if she was caught at their hands then she would be in trouble. Despite that, Clarke used it as a distraction. She ran - ran as fast as her legs would carry her. Though it caught the attention of the army, it also distanced herself from Rylen, who was caught on the other side. By now she was confident enough in her abilities to look after herself and knew that she would be okay. The blonde only stopped moving when distance had been made from the army and she no longer heard their war cries.

She huddled under a tree, maneuvered a knife out of her boot and then freed her hands.

If she had any luck, she would not be found again.
 
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