Loyal

Chapter Three

The children came back in the morning.

Snow supposed it was unfair to call them children. They were all around the same age as her, most between fifteen and twenty.

Snow herself was barely nineteen.

"I need to clean this," the blonde was back, trying to heal Snow.

She kept her fist closed tightly.

"Okay, I'll just clean this one then," the girl shrugged, reaching for Snow's arm, where a large cut sliced down her arm.

The girl gasped as she cut the right sleeve off of Snow's long sleeved shirt to better reach the wound.

It revealed tattoos all the way down her arm.

A raging blizzard spiraled down her arm, reaching from the side of her neck down to her wrist, where it swirled up the top of her hand as it ended.

The entire tattoo was made of words, names so small the blonde could barely read them. But she figured out what they were.

Her arm was covered in a raging blizzard of those she'd killed.

Luckily, the slash in her arm was in one of the gaps, so they didn't ruin the tattoo. She would bridge the gap with their names if they did.

"You've killed these people," the girl stated.

Even someone who didn't understand English would know what the girl asked, so Snow nodded.

The blonde continued bandaging the electric burns in silence before Octavia appeared.

"Clarke," Octavia said, "Let me try."

While Snow hated most Skaikru, this one had saved her life. As Octavia extended the cloth gently, Snow slowly opened her hand.

"Octavia, I'm sorry," the girl called Clarke sighed, "I was just trying to save Finn."

"Well, in case you've forgotten, that was me, not you," Octavia snapped, "Now get out."

With Clarke here, none of the boys had returned. As the blonde left, Octavia turned to Snow.

"Cool tattoo," Octavia smirked.

"She knows we speak English," Lincoln warned.

Snow smiled, "Umm, thanks."

"It's a really cool blizzard," Octavia continued, "I know he's Lincoln, but my brother just calls you dark snowflake."

"That's your brother?" Snow asked, an eyebrow raised, "How have you not killed him in his sleep yet?"

Octavia nodded, "I know, he's the worst. Sorry about that. But seriously, what's your name?"

Before Snow could answer, the hatch opened, and the fuzzy haired boy called Miller poked his head through, "Octavia, you know your brother doesn't want you up here."

She slowly left, shoving past Miller as she did.

"Feel like talking?" Miller asked.

Snow smirked at him with such a dark glare reflected in her eyes that he shrugged and leaned back into a chair, falling asleep.

What a great guard.

A few days later, Lincoln shoved her awake, "Jobi nuts. They're hallucinating."

"Octavia let you go," Snow observed, "Leave me here. They already think you don't care about me. Keep that up."

"But-"

Snow stopped him, "I'll be a useful spy. Now go."

He reluctantly nodded and slipped away.

Snow drifted back into sleep again, gaining her energy, getting stronger.

"You know, you could make this easier on yourself," Bellamy was back, "You could just talk."

She was tired of waiting for them to drop some information unknowingly. She didn't care.

"Where's the fun in that?" Snow asked.

"The dark snowflake speaks," Bellamy smiled, proud of himself. It was slightly fun, but also annoying, "Let's start with your name."

She shrugged, "Snow."

"Okay, Snow," Bellamy nodded, "Where are you from?"

Where's the harm in letting him know she was from the most feared kingdom in the world?

"Azgeda," she answered softly, letting her voice quiver a little. Let them think she was afraid.

"What is Azgeda?" Bellamy asked quietly.

Snow shivered a little, "The ice nation. A few thousand miles north."

"You're scared of them?" Bellamy asked. She softly nodded, "And they made you kill for them? All these names?"

She nodded again, letting her head hang down slightly, "I came to here to get away from them."

"Maybe they want you back?" Bellamy asked, "We could-"

Snow's eyes widened with true fear this time, "Don't. Please don't."

He unchained her hands, but left one chain around her ankle, "I hope you can learn to trust us."

Not a chance.

The boy sighed and slid down the ladder. Snow smirked to herself as she stopped shaking with fake fear.

Her small size made her look like a child. Her rounded face and wide dark eyes made her seem harmless. And she was incredible at deception.

They though she was a scared little girl from Azgeda, that she had been forced to kill. They were wrong.

The more people she killed, the less human she felt. Less human, less emotion.

Less pain.

Snow doubted they'd ever believe she chose to be an assassin. But the second any of them found out about what happened thirteen years ago- they'd all call her a monster.

And they'd be right.

Because Frost- don't think about Frost, she willed herself. Never think about Frost.

But even the slight memory had her smiling.

Black hair flying behind a young girl with a pointed face. Her blue eyes were so pale they were almost white, and her lips were the same bright red as Snow's.

The smile quickly faded as the memory ended. She wanted to remember Frost, but she couldn't feel that pain.

Not again.

Snow debated unchaining her ankle and slipping through the camp. It would be easy. But right now, she was a good spy.

For some weird reason, they trusted her.

Strange.

Her weapons were on the other side of the metal room, just within the reach of the chain.

The cell hatch opened both ways, and the lock was on her side, so she could easily escape.

The children were poorly trained, save for the one boy who looked slightly stronger.

Snow carefully grabbed her ankle strap daggers from the other side of the room, but strangely, she prayed she wouldn't have to use them.

The rest she left untouched, eating the food they gave her and drinking the water.

Until after a few days, when they decided to meet with Anya and use her as leverage.