the orphan king

our fallen

Clarke wiped the sweat from her eyes as Drake stood over her offering her a hand which begrudgingly she took and got to her feet.

"Come on Princess. You got more in you." Drake assured her albeit with a teasing tone and Clarke raised her hands in loose fists as she readied herself for another bout.

It had been a week since Drake assumed control of the 100 and the former prisoners were becoming used to their new leader and his ways. Drake had followed through with each proclamation he announced the night he and Bellamy had their standoff. Thanks to that the 100 had begun to build the foundations of a sturdy wall, they had proper out houses, a living, dining, and training area and were slowly learning new skills on how to live on their new home. One of these skills was fighting, a taboo on the Ark, but a way of life here and Drake drilled them until they could no longer take it and then push them even further. No one was excluded from this activity, even the younger members of the 100 were trained despite the protests from some of the 100 namely Wells, Octavia, Clarke herself and perhaps the most vocal was Finn. Still Drake's answer was the same.

"What happens when all that stands between a Grounder and them is the air in between?" Drake's voice intoned in Clarke's mind as she felt her feet leave the ground and saw the world spin in a nauseous vortex as she landed lightly on the ground.

"Where are you at Clarke?" Drake asked as he released her hand and stepped back.

"Nothing. Nowhere." She responded as she stood up and dusted herself off.

"I think they've had enough." Drake said as he surveyed the weary 100 and his eyes flicked from one fight to the next. "Alright! Everyone, practice is over. Get some food and do your duties!" Drake called out and the 100 in the small training area groaned happily as they made their way to the designated eating area where rough tables had been put together with benches lining them.

"You've done a good job Drake." Clarke said as she stepped to his side and watched the 100 enjoy their somewhat cold meals.

"We still need to get that wall up." Drake said thoughtfully and Clarke couldn't help but shake her head in disbelief.

"You're always thinking." Clarke said and Drake snorted.

"Says you. Your head is always gone when you fight me." Drake jabbed back and Clarke punched him lightly in the arm.

"That's not true." She denied but even she didn't believe herself.

If she was honest with herself, and she usually was, she was a pretty decent fighter much to her own surprise. She was quick, sneaky, calculating and above all took the opportunities to score a hit while carefully defending herself. When she squared off with both male and female opponents she usually came out on top and while she suffered from the rare defeat it was only by the thinnest of margins and even then it would fuel her to get better and asked Drake for advice which he readily gave to anyone. But that brought her back to Drake.

Drake. Their leader even though he was younger than most of the teens sent down. When she fought Drake she could tell he was holding back, he held back against all of them. He had only fought seriously once against one of the bigger boys in camp who had challenged him for leadership of the 100. Needless to say Drake had utterly demolished the young man with a series of blistering blows and a hard toss at the ground. Needless to say no one ever challenged Drake to a serious fight after that.

Still that's not what bugged her. What did bother her was that every time they would fight she would remember treating him in the Drop Ship and much to her embarrassment the way his body felt under her fingertips. It was stupid. It was the hormones. It was just a natural part of growing up and yet her fantasies which had involved Finn; sometimes, had Drake starring in them and surprisingly she was fine with it.