Adapting to the Ground (a The 100 fanfiction)

Polis

A/N: dialogue in italics is Trigedasleng, since Natalie can speak it fluently and understands it completely now.

Earth: Five Months After Descension (sometime in February), 2149

    Polis really was full of all kinds of people. There were stalls everywhere, filled with produce and furs and dried meat and weapons and trinkets and-

    “Natali, look at that!” Bran hopped in place in the cart that had carried them from Tondisi to the big city, pointing at a stall with colourful pots and vases and pitchers. There were the traditional browns and tans, and there were also blues and reds, yellows, oranges, purples, pinks, greens, and there were white ones too, and black. “So many colours!”

    “I see them, Bran!” Natalie laughed, holding onto Ana tightly when she wiggled around. Noah sat silently next to her, open-mouthed and wide-eyed at the teeming streets before them. They had just entered the gate into the city, and had turned down just a few streets.

    The cart stopped, and Talia – who'd been steering the horse pulling it – turned and grinned. “This is where we get off, Fayagada. We will have to walk from here.” She swung off and reached for the kids to help them down.

    Noah hopped down by herself, ignoring the offered hand. Natalie sent an apologetic face to the woman, who just shrugged and reached for Ana instead. Natalie handed the toddler over and jumped down, lifting Bran down once her feet hit solid ground. She tugged on Noah’s jacket to get her attention. “Stay close to me. I don't want you getting lost.”

    “Okay,” Noah agreed and stuck close to the group, her hands swinging free and her eyes taking in all that surrounded them. Drane and Laina led the tiny procession on their horses, leading two other horses that carried Natalie and the kids’ clothes and things.

    The group made their way through the winding streets, heading towards the tall tower in the distance. Natalie could see a flame flickering at the top, and was so focused on what she dubbed ‘The Giant Candle’, she didn't notice the woman that joined their trek until she spoke. “Heda has prepared a house for you and your children near her tower.”

    Natalie sucked in a startled breath, her gaze falling to the tall (to her, anyway) warrior walking next to her. “Onya! Hi.” The redhead smiled sheepishly and adjusted her grip on Bran's hand.

    Anya's gaze showed amusement, even as her face stayed as impassive as ever. “Hello, Natali.” She leaned over to address the boy clinging to his guardian's hand. “Bran,” then she looked to Noah, who walked slightly in front of the boy, as if to protect him from the crowd. “Noa. Where is the strikon?”

    Natalie pointed over at Talia, who had moved a bit closer to the children when she noticed Anya, carrying the little girl on her hip. “Talia offered to carry her so she wouldn't get lost or trampled.”

    Anya nodded at the stocky woman toting the toddler before turning her sight back on the redhead at her side. “I will escort you to your new house, and make sure you have everything you need for your household.”

    Natalie relaxed just a touch and smiled. “Thank you. What is expected of me to earn all of this, though?” She wouldn't reject a gift from the Commander or the General, but she also didn't want to be any kind of burden to either of them.