Lightning Only Strikes Once - Clexa

Chapter 77: A Cold Day In Hell

Travelling north with Nia, Ontari, and Nia's group of gona quickly hits a routine. Which is not to say it's a pleasant routine. The gona regularly say rude things in undertones, apparently unaware Clarke's pretty fluent in Trigedasleng. Ontari regularly says rude things, but in her case she says them in English and doesn't bother with an undertone. Nia, meanwhile, asks uncomfortable questions, provoking Clarke whenever she gets bored with the journey, like a lazy, cruel cat batting at a helpless mouse.

Clarke's ankle aches, the cold not helping it at all, and the constant riding even less. In addition to that, Clarke's arms become stiff from leaning back on the horse instead of holding onto Ontari, and her back becomes stiff trying to keep her balance like that. The one time she gives in and clings to Ontari while they're cantering, Ontari removes one of her gloves, pushes up Clarke sleeve to bare a tender part of her forearm, and then digs her nails into it until Clarke bleeds. Clarke decides never to do it again. She's quickly realising that Ontari gets off on dominance and other people's fear – and not in a perfectly-fine, S&M type way, the enjoyment of taking charge a little or giving in a little, of playacting. No, Ontari's not into that stuff, she seems to be just into actually scaring and hurting people. It creeps Clarke out.

Not as much as waking up the third night to find Ontari leaning over her does, though. Clarke scrambles backwards so quickly she clonks her head on a tent pole. "What the hell?" she hisses. In one way, she's glad to be woken up since she was having a nightmare, but frankly real life seems just as disturbing as the nightmare right now.

"You kept saying the Commander's name," Ontari says softly, a disquieting gleam in her eye. For a second Clarke thinks she's been found out, that she's been saying how she really feels about Lexa in her sleep because she can't say it out loud anymore. Then Ontari continues, mimicking her in a high pitched whimper but still speaking quietly, "'Oh, Lexa! No! Lexa! Don't! Please don't! Don't do this to me!'"

Clarke was dreaming of Lexa's death again – hardly surprising, given she's no longer sleeping pressed against her. After a split second of confusion, she realises what Ontari thinks she was dreaming about, and feels sick – because of the slight smirk on Ontari's face as much as because of the idea she leapt to. If Ontari tells Nia, though, Clarke supposes this only helps her lies. But she doesn't like it, anyway.

"Sounds like you and the Commander had so much fun together," Ontari says, sounding amused. She traces a finger down Clarke's cheek and Clarke pulls further back.

"Touch me again and I'll scream," Clarke warns her.

"And why would I care?" Ontari says, but her involuntary glance over her shoulder and the quietness she still speaks with give her away.

"We both know Nia's still deciding what she makes of me," Clarke tells her. "Whether she wants to work with me, or kill me. If you make that decision for her, I doubt she'll be thrilled."

Ontari scowls and pulls back, glaring at Clarke. "Fine, Destroyer of the Mountain. You get some sleep. I'll keep watch." She leans back against another pole, pulling out her knife to play with it and staring at Clarke intensely. "Close watch."

Clarke realises Ontari is purposely trying to freak her out now, trying to make it hard for her to sleep. Sadly, that doesn't prevent it from working, that night and every other night they travel. By the time they reach their destination, Clarke is exhausted. Of course, Ontari doesn't look particularly well-rested either. Like Lexa, perhaps her black blood helps, though, because she certainly doesn't seem as tired as Clarke.

It becomes so much colder as they head further north that Clarke's hands and feet hurt constantly and her bandaged ankle is agonising. No matter how many layers she's wearing, she feels the chill to her bones. The horse they're riding seems vaguely sympathetic to her plight, which is nice, because certainly no one else is. Sometimes the horse rubs his nose against her when they stop. The other horses try and bite or kick Clarke when she gets close to them, but Ontari's just seems to be happy to have someone who pets him and coos to him, even if it's not his actual owner. Clarke nicknames him Snowball, mainly because the name visibly annoys Ontari, who never bothered to name him.