I Couldn't Stop Caring

Chapter 2

Clarke gasped as she pushed herself up from the bed, tears clouding her vision as her heart thumped endlessly against her chest. Like even her heart itself wanted to escape her haunted form. She turned her head to see Niylah laying on her stomach with her braided blonde hair surrounding her head on the pillow as she slept. Every now and then the small strands of hair across her face would move under her breath. The bed sheets, crafted of soft animal pelts, protect her naked form from Clarke's eyes.

As Clarke rose from the bed and began to get dressed, she caught a glimpse of herself between the cracks of a mirror. She clenched her fists, staring at the stranger she had came across. The woman in the mirror looked larger, with dark circles under her eyes, and small healing cuts and bruises across her face. She looked permanently damaged. A defect that had been rejected even by herself. No, it was not Clarke. Though she moved when Clarke moved.

She left the trading post, her freshly sharpened sword fastened tightly to her waist. After all, she was the commander of death. She had no doubt that at some point she would use it. Somewhere, deep down, Clarke knew she should be scared. Walking straight into the capital city of the grounders, home to the commander of the 12 clans and her greatest warriors. But the thing that worried her, was the fact that she wasn't afraid at all.

The heel of her boots bit down into the cold dirt below them, every now and then the sound of a snapping twig or the crunching of leaves would find its way out into the early morning light. She wrapped her hand into a fist around the handle of her sword as she moved, not caring at all if the noise was heard by others. It would just mean a faster trip to Polis when they take her away. Clarke was ready to face the commander. And she was ready to make sure she regretted leaving her at the mountain.
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She approached the gates of Polis, her eyes narrowed to watch the flames burning with power on top of the tower which she saw from between the trees, miles away. Immediately, several warriors built like tanks had their bows drawn, their well-crafted arrows pointed towards her. Without hesitation she removed her hand from her sword and raised her arms above her head, implying she was not going to put up a fight unless they made her. The guards eyed each other in confusion, sharing small murmurs. There was no doubt that they didn't expect Clarke to just show up without putting up a fight to be found. They knew this.

"Well, since you've been looking for me, are you going to let me in? Or are you going to explain to the commander why you rejected Wanheda, who is being hunted by the way, from entering Polis" Clarke called. Immediately two guards left their post, moving towards the mighty Wanheda with their swords drawn.

"Get her" he growled, and Clarke felt him tightly grasp her arm pushing it behind her back in one movement. She clenched her jaw, the muscle rippling under her skin.

"Be careful would you?" she grumbles, struggling slightly in his strong grip. From behind her, the other guard swung the butt of his sword and hit the back of her head, knocking her unconscious. She dropped and landed in the dirt by their feet, her arms spread out at her sides in awkward angles. The closest warrior cringed at the sight.

"Go inform Titus of her arrival" he grunted as he kicked her hand "bag her head. None of the other people must see her enter."

"Gustus, the commander said she was not to be harmed..."

"Well she is. And we are taking her to Heda immediately. Are you questioning me?" Gustus slung Clarke's limp body over his shoulder as he glared at the other man.

"no"

"Then go and inform Titus" he ordered again "unless you wish to be punished for refusing your orders, Jayden."