Chapter Text
Almost 4 years after the Mountain
Polis
Lexa
Lexa has been waiting for the first to arrive. It’s been three weeks since she sent the scouts out, yet so far only one has returned. But not from her own clan. This worried her a little at first, however she knows how large Trikru territory is, and how hard is can be to travel just after the snow has melted. They should be back in the next few weeks, with the scouts sent to the other clans not far behind them.
For now, she sits patiently on her throne, twirling a dagger in the twisted wooden arm, waiting. Lexa has had a lot of practice with patience, however over the last four years it has been more difficult, giving her too much time to think about past mistakes, about a particular pair of desperate blue eyes that she walked away from.
The sound of boots in the hallway outside the throne room draws her out of her memory, quickly forgotten as she sits up straighter and replaces the dagger in its sheath. The doors open and four figures enter. Titus, the fleimkepa, her teacher and primary advisor, walks in first, his eyes looking straight at Heda as if knowing what was going through her mind moments ago. Behind him, two scouts follow with a small body between them, scrambling to keep up. Titus steps aside to reveal a boy with scruffy brown hair. He can’t be more than 4 years old, terrified blue eyes peering up at Lexa.
“Natblida kom Trishanakru, Heda,” (A nightblood from the Trishanakru) Titus announces.
“Gon we,” (Leave) Lexa commands the scouts, who abruptly turn and exit the room, leaving the tiny boy alone in the middle of the room, looking even paler than before.
“What is your name, child?” Lexa asks softly. She knows her first impression on the new nightbloods is important, needing to scare them enough for them to behave and focus on their training, but also showing that she actually cares about them. They are still children after all.
“Ai laik Jake kom Trishanakru, Heda,” (I am Jake from Trishanakru) the boy says with a small quiver in his voice, bowing his head towards the floor.
Jake. The name sounds familiar to Lexa, but after all her years as Heda she cannot place where she might have heard it before. It seems an odd name, but he isn’t from her clan after all.
“Welcome Jake. You are a nightblood, and as is your birthright you have been brought here to train with the other nightbloods to potentially become Heda one day. Titus and I will be your teachers while you are here, as well as some of the older nightbloods. Your training starts tomorrow.”
At that, Titus leaves the room with Jake following obediently. After the doors have closed behind them, Lexa can’t help but think about the terrified eyes of the boy, and how eerily similar yet different they are to the blue eyes that still haunt her. The blue eyes that begged her to stay. The eyes that she will never see again.
Jake
During the meeting with Heda, Jake was so scared he wanted to sink into the floor and disappear, yet he could not tear his eyes away from her powerful frame. She was frightening to say the least, but her eyes were kind, dispelling some of the fear, yet enough remained for him to barely say his own name without a quiver to his voice.
The bald man, Titus he thinks his name is, leads him down a few floors of the tower to a corridor with three doors. It takes almost all of Jake’s concentration to put one foot in front of the other as he walks, barely understanding what is being said to him. When Titus stops at the second door, Jake almost stumbles into his legs, staring at the concrete floor in apprehension.
“This is your room. More nightbloods will arrive soon, but you are the only one for now. Dinner is in two candlemarks, a guard will take you to the dining hall when it is time.”
Jake enters the room timidly, still staring at the floor, and the door is shut behind him. Gradually he lifts his head, scanning the room. It is larger than he has ever seen, other than the throne room, with twelve beds arranged around the outside of the room. Next to each bed is a small chest, Jake assumes for clothes and whatever other belongings they are allowed to have. He wasn’t allowed to bring anything from home, only what he was wearing when the scouts came. There is a large window at the far end of the room looking over Polis, thin curtains drawn to the side to let in what’s left of daylight. There is no other decoration in the room other than a few candles scattered about, it doesn’t look like anyone has lived in it for years.
Jake quickly jumps onto the bed furthest from the door and curls up in it. He barely slept on the journey here, longing to see his mothers and afraid of what is to come. He cries himself into a fitful sleep, dreaming of home and the friends he was forced to leave behind.
Aden
All of the nightbloods are in the dining hall, a reasonably sized room behind the first door on the corridor that they live on. One long table runs along the middle of the room, where they are all eating and talking about what they learnt that day. This room has little decoration, like the other rooms on the floor, although here there are ornate tables dotted around the edge and covered in candles to light the room. One window looks out, but the darkness beyond only highlights the fires burning in the city below and the stars in the sky above.
Aden is the oldest of all the nightbloods in Polis, other than Heda of course. He trains hard and listens carefully to his teachers, but after training he tries to be kind and look after the younger nightbloods. He’s known them all so long that at this point he considers them to be his brothers and sisters, even more so now that the rules of the conclave have been changed and he won’t be made to kill them.
The new kid looks petrified. He’s really small compared to the others, barely touching his food and staring at his feet as if there’s a really interesting ant colony living there. Having watched the new kid for about ten minutes, Aden gets up and goes to sit next to him. Aden can sense the nerves coming off the kid in waves. He hasn’t spent time with anyone this young since he was first brought to Polis.
“Hei, ai laik Aden, what’s your name?”
The kid looks up a bit, eyes at his knees now.
“Ai laik Jake.”
Well that’s something a least, Aden thinks. He remembers what it was like first coming here, not knowing what was going to happen next or who the people around him were. Most of all, he remembers the fear and missing the family he had to leave behind. Aden was honoured to be a nightblood, but it doesn’t take away the pain of never seeing those you love ever again.
“Hi Jake. Have you been to Polis before? The food here is really great, you should try some.”
At that the boy looks up at Aden, a small face full of both worry and hope. He smiles gently and takes a small bite from his plate.
“I’ve never been, but nomon has, she said it’s the busiest place she’s ever seen. She wishes mom would go - come - with her some time.”
Aden hears the small break in Jake’s voice at the mention of his mother and ‘mom’, which he can only assume is another family member, although he’s never heard the word before. The boy clearly misses them.
“What does your nomon do?” Aden knows Jake won’t be allowed to talk about them again after tonight, hopefully talking about them now will cheer him up for the evening.
“She is a healer in my village, I miss her a lot.”
“It gets easier kid. Want to hear about Polis?”
At that Jake sits up straighter and takes another piece of food from his plate, looking up at Aden and nodding eagerly.
“Okay, we are currently in the tower where we sleep and eat, the rest of us have a room along the hall. Heda also lives here, but we’re not allowed on her floor unless we are invited. There are lots of other floors for guests and for various function rooms. I’m sure Heda greeted you in the throne room earlier? I know she’s scary but it’s her way of looking out for us.”
Aden goes on to explain the layout of the city, or at least what he’s seen of it, & what Jake should expect from the next week of training.
“This week will be hard, you’ll be training with us to start with so it will be a steep learning curve. If you ever need anything, come ask me after classes, okay?”
Jake looks thoroughly confused, and Aden thinks maybe he gave him too much information in one go. At least the kid appears to be less frightened than before.
“Mochof, Aden.” (Thank you, Aden.)
One week later
Lexa
It’s been a week since Jake arrived, and so far he is still the only one in his room. Normally this wouldn’t worry Lexa, except for the fact that the Trikru scouts still haven’t returned. Nevertheless, Jake seems to be adapting well and has already learnt a lot from the other nightbloods. She has managed to find time to train them more than usual this week, teaching them English every other day and how to defend themselves using a staff for the rest. She is surprised to find that Jake already knows a lot of English, more than she would have expected from a three-year-old.
After dismissing the nightbloods to their quarters following a particularly hard gonasleng (English) lesson, Titus comes towards her with a stern look on his face.
“What do you want, Titus?”
“I am concerned about the fact that only one nightblood has arrived, Heda. Please allow me to send messengers to find out what is going on in the other clans?”
“You know why we cannot do that Titus, and I find your lack of faith in our scouts unreasonable. It takes as long as it takes, you taught me that.”
“Of course Heda, but please consider it. If they have taken nightblood children, they may try to take your command from you -”
“Titus we have been over this many times! I know the dangers, that’s why we kept the scouts secret this time around. Do not make me tell you again!”
“Sha, Heda.” (Yes, Commander) Titus bows and withdraws from the room without another word, leaving Lexa fuming alone. She grabs her coat, throwing it on as she storms towards the exit, everyone in her path quickly moving out of the way feeling the rage in the air around her. Once outside, Lexa storms towards the nearest training area, planning on taking out her anger and frustration on a training dummy before returning for dinner.
Hours later, Lexa is covered head to toe in sweat and breathing hard. Four practice dummies lay in pieces on the ground, torn up by her sword. She was so focused on training and releasing the tension she’d been holding in her body that she hadn’t noticed the sun setting until she could barely see the dummies in front of her. She heads back to the tower, in a much better mood than when she left it.
As she walks, Lexa watches the city around her, seeing her people thrive in the peace she brought about. Here and there patrons of the local taverns stumble around in their drunken stupor, singing old songs and grinning ear to ear. She enjoys watching her people like this, uninhibited and relishing in all that Polis has to offer. Still, she feels a small lump of jealousy in her heart. Lexa will never be as free as her people, they will always be her priority and responsibility, and she will always be alone.
Caught up in watching the happiness of the people around her, Lexa doesn’t see the woman dashing out of the tower as she strides in. The woman catches her shoulder, pausing briefly to regain her grasp on the bundle in her arms. Lexa recognises the familiar scruffy brown hair of her most recent nightblood as the woman adjusts the bundle. She almost calls for the guards, but is frozen when the woman looks up. Lexa stares at her eyes, betrayed blue eyes that she could never forget.
“Clarke..?”