"So then you destroyed the Jeeps?" Clarke widens her eyes, visibly impressed.
"Uh huh," he tells her proudly.
"You're so clever," she breathes wonderingly, and he inflates slightly, full of self-importance. What a moron, Clarke thinks.
The man with her is one of her old guards when she was in Prison Station, and also one of the ones she knocked out the other day. However, he's also relatively young (mid-twenties), blushes when she smiles at him, and found it easy to forgive Clarke after an effusive apology and some blatant flirting. As a result, he's become her most useful source of information about the village they're in. She knows pretty much exactly how far they are from the border with the Trikru (too far), exactly when Nia is expected to get here (too soon), exactly how much progress they're making on the missile (very little), and exactly what happened the day she was taken.
The last information is more for her peace of mind than anything else – from what she's gotten out of him, she's pretty confident that most of Arkadia is alive and healthy, and that they'll have managed to figure out exactly what happened in order to tell Lexa. The gas grenades left there will have clued them in to the Ice Queen's involvement, and the dead guard she left (who almost no one here seems to be mourning, suggesting he didn't treat his co-workers much better than his prisoners) will tell them about Diana's involvement. So they'll know that the two are working together.
"First, we had to leave some hair where we found you," the guard continues. He shrugs at her expression. "Yeah, I don't know why, either. Queen's orders apparently. Just some braided black hair. It was weird, but we did it anyway."
Clarke inhales sharply, but manages to force down her rage. It isn't hard to figure out whose braid it was, and why the Ice Queen had it left there. She was taunting Lexa. This is useful information, because it tells Clarke that Nia at least suspects that Clarke and Lexa are in a relationship. If she's convinced of that, then Clarke will find it much more difficult to persuade Nia that Clarke will side against Lexa with her. More difficult – but not impossible. Clarke has experience manipulating people, and whatever Nia thinks she knows about Clarke, Clarke knows more about Nia. She's met her, after all, in the other world she knew Roan and Nia and Ontari, even if only briefly. She has their measure. Whatever they've heard, they still don't have hers.
But she's not sure the information this knowledge gives her is worth the anger and pain it also causes her, knowing that the fucking Ice Queen left one of Costia's braids for Lexa to find like they're doing a demented scavenger hunt. She knows how much Lexa loved Costia, how much Costia haunts her still, how much this reminder will devastate Lexa. How the implied threat towards Clarke will devastate her more.
She won't be a head in a box, used to break the strongest person she knows. The metaphors Monty used for hacking apply to Lexa too – she's a rock with one fault line. She's metal with one weak point. Clarke's nightmares are the Mountain and Lexa dying. Lexa's nightmares are Costia being tortured by Nia, sometimes with Clarke replacing Costia as the victim. Nia wants to literally make Lexa's worst nightmare come true, hitting her fault line, her weak spot. And unless Clarke can find a way to manipulate her into believing that Lexa doesn't care about her, Nia might manage to do it.
She could face being tortured to death. Face it with utter terror, sure. But still face it. She can't face doing that to Lexa.
Another soldier sticks his head inside the hut. "The savages are here to pick up Prisoner 319," he says coldly, looking at Clarke like she's some kind of disgusting insect. He was the driver of the truck on the way here. Apparently he didn't appreciate being knocked unconscious and then pushed into the snow. Which is probably understandable, but Clarke still feels no regret at all. Even if she couldn't get away, at least she made them suffer, and it almost brings a smile to her face to think about how long it must have taken to get the truck upright and moving again.
"Oh," the soldier she's been flirting with says sadly, already looking bereft.
Clarke stands up, grabbing the walking stick she had the smitten guard make for her, setting her chin in determination and narrowing her eyes. "Good," she says to the soldier at the door, "I've really been looking forward to meeting this Ice Queen of yours."
She walks out in front of him, leaning heavily on the stick but not allowing him to either drag or carry her, even though every step is still agony. She wants to seem impressive, despite her injury. Strong and useful and vibrant, far better alive than she would be dead. Of course, Clarke considers that most people are better alive than they are dead, but Nia probably doesn't think like she does.
Nia's at the front of her gona, wearing the haughty expression she always has, covered in furs, wearing the small bony hair decoration that's her crown. Clarke can't imagine her ever pretending to be anything besides what she is – unlike Lexa, she doesn't seem to have the self-awareness necessary to dial down the assurance she wears like a cloak. She radiates a kind of arrogant superiority that would mark her out in any line-up. Standing nearby, Diana seems comparatively out of place with her perfect hair and make-up, wrong against the background of snow and huts.
Ontari is standing beside Nia. She stares at Clarke like a predator looking at its next meal, and one half of her mouth lifts in a cruel smirk for half a second before she returns her face to blankness. Something about it makes Clarke uncomfortable.
All of them are mounted on tall horses with shaggy coats and big hoofs, which look untroubled by the snow. Clarke remembers Lexa telling her that there were few horses in Azgeda territory, as only the hardiest survived there.
"Greetings, Azplana," Clarke says to Nia, ignoring everyone else, walking to stand directly in front of her and meeting her eyes without fear.
Nia looks surprised for a moment. "I generally prefer my prisoners not to talk until I ask them to." She raises her eyebrows at Clarke, evaluating her.
"And I'm sure you ask very nicely," Clarke says sarcastically. "However, you have an opportunity right now. For me not to be your prisoner, but instead to be your partner."
"That seems more like an opportunity for you," Nia points out. She smiles in what seems to be genuine amusement and Ontari scowls. "Also, I was under the impression you were the Commander's partner."
"I'm her second-in-command," Clarke says firmly, allowing bitterness to creep into her voice. "For all the good that does me. But I'm not the kind of partner you're referring to."
"Yes, you fooled Diana with your little speech about how oppressed your people are by the big, bad Heda," Nia says. Diana frowns, looking annoyed at the insult. "However, you travelled all around my territory. Do you really think no one told me of how close you are with Lexa?"
"I'm sure they have," Clarke says. "But not by choice. She doesn't feel the way you think she does. The Commander believes love is weakness, you know. And she wants to be strong." She opens the top of her jacket, showing the fading bruises ringing her neck. "She takes it badly when I disagree with her."
Nia stares at her for a long second. "You could have gotten those anywhere. My people told me you have great influence over the Commander, that you mean a great deal to her."
"But if I have so much influence over her, why don't my people have their weapons anymore? Why are we building a road to bring them goods before we set up our own homes?" Clarke crosses her arms. "Why did we agree to give them so much technology, so much food, so much help? Why are my people hemmed in by guards and forced to take in criminals like the Mountain Men? I don't have any influence at all over the Commander, no matter how I've tried to get it."
"She shared a tent with you," Nia remarks, studying Clarke. She looks less convinced then she did before, a small frown knotting her brow.
"Because she thought once we found my people, I could rally them and get away," Clarke tells her. "It was her way of watching me. Trust me, I tried to use our sleeping arrangements to my advantage. That's when I got these bruises. The Commander really doesn't like it when people try and manipulate her." She should probably feel bad about blackening Lexa's name to this degree, but the truth is it's so far from accurate that it makes her more amused than guilty. It would be like calling Raven passive, or Kane bloodthirsty. An insult that's too absurd doesn't really seem like an insult. "I'm more than willing – my people are more than willing – to help take her down. All we ask for in return is to be left alone, allowed to use our land however we want."
"And what use could your people be without fayogon?" Nia says, amused.
"Just because we don't have guns, doesn't mean we don't have weapons. We have the material to make hundreds of bombs hidden below Arkadia," Clarke says. It's actually technically true, since they have so many old bullets stored there – Raven could extract the gunpowder and make as many bombs as she wants. Not that truth really matters at all here. "The only reason we don't is because we're being watched so carefully and our leader's too afraid. If you allied with us -"
"She is lying, Azplana," Ontari says dismissively.
Nia turns her head to look at her. "Shof op, Ontari. When I wish for your advice I shall ask for it." Then she turns to Clarke again, studying her once more. "Anyway, there is no need to consider this now. Proper conversations require time. We will take her back north with us and listen to what she has to say. If it is interesting enough, perhaps I'll listen. If it is not... well, then we will – how did you put it? – we will ask nicely." Her grin is sharp and feral for a second, and Clarke feels her heartrate speed up. She keeps her face as expressionless as possible anyway.
"We have handcuffs," Diana says. "We haven't been using them since it was easy enough to stop her from escaping, but we can put them back on for your trip." Her slight smirk as she says this tells Clarke this is a return of Nia's barb from before.
"No, my gona are well able to guard one Skayon," Nia says sweetly. "You need not fear she will take us off guard the way she did you on the trip here. Even though half the gona I brought will stay here."
Diana starts in surprise. "Half? We have a radio. We're more than capable of contacting you ourselves if we make any progress. You don't need to leave so many people here."
"Nevertheless," Nia says, "I would hate for you to feel threatened by the villages around here. My gona can provide protection." Her smile becomes thinner, more threatening. "And when you say 'if' you make progress, you mean 'when', surely?"
Diana's definitely losing this battle, Clarke decides. Diana's used to political battles on the Ark, but Nia is used to political battles down here, and only one of those places regularly uses fights to death as a decider.
"Of course," Diana says, voice cool. "I'll let you know as soon as my people figure it out. It's quite complicated, after all. I know your people don't have much understanding of technology, but devices like this are very complex and dangerous. If we started just poking around inside, everyone in your territory could die."
"That would include you," Nia points out, deflecting the implied threat. "So I suggest you take more care than that." She turns to look at Ontari again, effectively dismissing Diana. "Since you are so worried about her motives, you may be the Skayon's guard, Ontari, and share your tent and horse with her."
Ontari looks no happier than Clarke about the order, but yanks Clarke up behind her on the horse anyway. Clarke wonders if she can balance without touching the other girl. Up this close, though, she can see the many scars on Ontari's face in vivid detail, and almost feels sorry for her. Would this girl be a better person if she'd grown up in Polis, as one of Lexa's ducklings? Would she be like Aden, full of eagerness and affection?
Of course, it doesn't really matter. This is what she is now. And what she is, is a threat.