Author's Note: Welcome back! Now it's time to shake things up at Arkadia.

Cover Art for the story is from the LexaRecovery tumblr. Stay strong together.

I do not own the television show "The 100" or make any claims upon it or its characters. Similarly, I do not own Frozen, its characters or any Disney characters or property. All these characters are used under the concept of Fair Use, and I make no profit or income from using any of them.

Our Fight Is Not Over

by Jo K.

Chapter 11: Seeking My Heart

What in this world keeps us from falling apart

No matter where I go I hear the beating of our one heart

I think about you when the night is cold and dark

No one can move me the way that you do

Nothing erases this feeling between me and you

I drove all night to get to you

Is that alright

I drove all night, crept in your room

Woke you from your sleep to make love to you

Is that alright

I drove all night

-Roy Orbison, "I Drove All Night"

—O—

Seeing the arrow strike the crude target squarely in the inner ring of the bullseye made Monroe grin. "Yes!" the fiery redhead said, grinning.

"A very nice shot, Mon-Roe," agreed the Trikru girl standing behind her, smiling at the Skaikru's progress. "You have improved greatly. Soon you will be able to hunt without being dependent on your Skai weapon."

While the words were intended to be heartening, they had the opposite effect on Monroe. "I, uh..." she began, hesitantly. She felt her eyes burn but refused to cry in front of the Grounder girl. "Thanks," she tried again, not letting herself meet the girl's curious gaze, because she was sure there would be nothing but curiosity and concern in those eyes, and Monroe knew she didn't deserve either one after what she had done to the Trikru.

A hesitant touch at Monroe's left forearm made the petite redhead jump; her eyes shot to the side, only to see the confused hazel eyes of the young girl watching her. Dido, the young girl who had been the first to offer gifts to Harper a few weeks ago, found a reason to stop and check on Jusdonosir, as the Trikru referred to Harper, and Monroe every few days. Most times the girl would shyly offer them more handmade gifts, from clothes to tools; sometimes it would be freshly killed rabbits or deer, already cleaned and ready to be cooked.

After Harper had made her peace with the hero worship the fourteen-year-old seemed to have for her and Monroe had been able to put aside the twinge of jealousy she felt from the way the young girl gazed at Harper, they had allowed themselves to relax more around the young girl. If she planned on attacking them for what Monroe had done as part of Pike's death squad, there had certainly been no shortage of opportunities over the last few weeks, but her visits seemed to be due to a heady mix of admiration and curiosity on the young girl's part rather than any lingering animosity or malevolent intentions.

Grounders continued to visit Harper regularly, and now the visitors weren't confined to just Trikru. After any strangely-attired Grounders came and paid their respects, Dido was quick to point out where they came from or which clan they represented; she tended to always be around when a group approached Harper or Monroe, not always visible but always seemingly knowledgeable about who had visited and what they had brought, so Monroe suspected the girl watched from some hidden lookout point.

"So why do you watch when other people come to visit Harper?" Monroe asked, trying to change the subject and get her mind off her complicity in the murder of several hundred Trikru.

"Several reasons," the girl replied.

When no further explication followed, Monroe rolled her eyes. Grounders and the way they rationed their fucking words. Lord knows, she wasn't one for nonstop chatting, but the opposite extreme could be just as annoying. "And would you mind telling me some of those reasons?" she asked, keeping her voice civil. The kid really did mean well. Although, Monroe considered, maybe she shouldn't think too much of the girl as a kid, when she was just a couple of years younger than Harper and her.

"I like to learn about other clans," the girl said with a fractional shrug of her shoulders, the gesture familiar enough to make Monroe smile slightly. "I want to make sure I do not give Jusdonosir or you a gift that you have already received, unless it is something edible." She looked into Monroe's green eyes. "And I do not always trust others," she said in a low voice. "It is good that you always have a weapon nearby when Jusdonosir is receiving pilgrims."

"So you're trying to look out for us," Monroe said, trying not to think about the implications of the girl's use of the word pilgrims.

Dido nodded in reply.

"Even though sometimes you're nowhere to be found."

Another nod. "I am nearby."

Monroe nodded herself. "But if you're that far away, what could you do if someone did try to harm Har—uh, Jus-doh-no-seer?"

Hazel eyes stared intently at Monroe for two seconds, then the girl whipped around, drawing an arrow from the quiver on her back, nocking it and firing it in under three seconds.

Monroe stared down at the target, the arrow now embedded deeply in the bullseye still flexing slightly from its momentum.

"I would kill them," Dido spoke softly.

Monroe turned to look at the lanky girl; she would almost certainly end up taller than Monroe, as she was already the same height at the short-haired redhead. When she looked back at Monroe, there was a defiant determination, yes, but there was something more, too. Something hard.

"You've killed before," Monroe said.

Dido nodded. "I... was eight," she said, her voice hesitant. "A raider from the Glowing Forest, during an attack on my village. I shot her in the chest with my training bow and one of my nontu's—my father's arrows."

Monroe considered her actions before she slowly reached up and gently gripped the girl's bony left shoulder with her right hand. "It fucks you up," she said to the younger girl, getting a slow, somber nod in reply.

"I would be happy to never kill a human again, now that the Maunon are all dead," Dido said, as if she were admitting a shameful secret. "Hunting must be done, to feed and clothe our people. I show respect to the animals I claim, never wasting a life that I take. They die for a purpose. But I have no desire to take life."

Monroe refocused her efforts on her suddenly burning eyes. "That we have in common, kid," she said, turning to look back at their archery target, her voice strained with emotion. "That we have in common."

Abruptly Dido's head spun to face away from Monroe, back into the woods. "Something's happening," the girl said, right before the sound of leaves crunching became audible to Monroe.

A Grounder became visible, running not exactly toward them but more obliquely in their direction. Dido whistled loudly, causing the Grounder to shift direction and head toward her and Monroe.

"What's going on?" Dido asked as the Trikru, a young man who appeared to be in his late teens or early twenties, stopped and took a few seconds to gather his breath.

Monroe couldn't understand what the man said, but whatever it was made Dido's eyes widen. Then the man took off, running in the same direction he had been previously.

"What the hell was that about?" Monroe asked, beginning to grow concerned. Harper was still on her shift of guard duty, on Arkadia's wall. And the direction the Trikru man had been running was roughly in the direction of Arkadia.

Dido turned to look at Monroe, her hazel eyes dancing with excitement. "Wanheda has returned," the girl said, with a voice that touched on reverence. "She will handle the situation with the Skaikru."

"Who's that?" asked Monroe, confused but feeling her concern for Harper creep up even more. "I've never heard that name."

Now Dido smiled. "I believe you know her as Clarke."

It took Monroe all of four seconds to process the girl's last sentence. When she had, she immediately took off at a run herself, toward Arkadia.

"Wait, Mon-Roe!" Dido shouted, running to catch the petite redhead. "You should not run! Your breathing..."

"Fuck my breathing," Monroe replied, over her shoulder. "If Clarke's come back to deal with Pike, then shit's about to go down, and Harper's going to be in the middle of it!"

—O—

It was eerily quiet as Clarke and Elsa guided their horses out of the forest and onto the road leading to Arkadia. Indra had told them that there had been no challenges to the blockade since it had been established, and she relayed what Marcus Kane and Clarke's mother Abby had told her and Octavia when they met several days ago.

"That was the field where the Trikru sent to guard Arkadia were killed," Clarke said quietly, pointing to a gentle slope to their left. "Where Pike and his death squad started murdering them in their sleep."

"And they all had the small cannons you spoke of earlier?" asked Elsa, looking at the field. Bits of cloth and detritus were still scattered across the earth and grass, but she couldn't see any bodies.

"Yes," Clarke replied. "Rifles. They're bigger than the pistol I carry. They're capable of shooting up to thirty shots before having to reload."

"Always a dangerous endeavor," Elsa said softly. "Making it easier for people to kill, with less effort and less consequence to their actions."

They rode quietly for a few minutes, toward the now-visible gate in the fence surrounding Arkadia.

"After what I've seen since I've been on the ground," Clarke replied, "I think I'd have to agree with you, Elsa."

—O—

"Shit," Harper swore softly as she looked through the binoculars, scrutinizing the pair of women slowly approaching Arkadia on horseback.

"What is it?" asked David Miller, chief of the guards and Harper's usual partner when on duty. Nathan Miller, David's son, was good friends with Harper and Zoe Monroe, and even after Monroe's need to leave the guards due to her pulmonary scarring, David respected both of the young women for their hard work ethic and general fearlessness.

Harper lowered the binoculars, her hair shining a dark blonde in the late morning sunlight. She turned to look at David, a look of concern on her face. "It's Clarke Griffin."

David looked at her for a few seconds, his face vacillating between emotions until she offered him the binoculars. Taking them, he lifted them to his face and adjusted them to his eyes. Yes, it definitely was Clarke Griffin, dressed mostly in the Grounder style she had adopted. His eye lingered over the dark blue strip of cloth hanging over her right shoulder. It bore strong similarity to the blood-red decoration worn by the Commander of the Grounder Clans, and considering she and Clarke tended to show up together, he doubted it was coincidence that Clarke was now wearing such a decoration.

Rank, most likely, he surmised. Although he wouldn't put it past the Grounders to claim ownership using visible means, so it could possibly mean that the Commander had marked Clarke as hers, although whether that meant as a subordinate, paramour or property wasn't entirely clear.

The woman with Clarke, though, was entirely strange. He had never seen her before, but she was dressed like something out of a child's storybook. The horse she rode was a gleaming white, so intense in color that it seemed to shine in the sunlight, and it looked like the woman was actually wearing a gown, for God's sake. The silver and pale blue fabric of the dress sparkled and shimmered in the sunlight, even through the binoculars. Closer examination revealed that what he had initially taken as a skirt might actually be baggy pants that merely resembled a dress's skirt, which would certainly fit more with the Grounders' style of dress. But still, the platinum blonde hair, the fair skin, the elegant fabric and rich colors she was wearing, none of it meshed with what he had seen from the Grounders, with a single exception: She wore a small sword on the white belt buckled around her waist.

"Attention all guards," Harper spoke into the radio, pulling David's attention from the approaching due. "We have a Code 100. I repeat, a Code 100. Clarke Griffin is approaching the main gate, accompanied by an unknown female who appears to be a friendly with her. No sign of any Grounder activity. The two of them look like they're alone."

Harper glanced over at David, who just looked at her. She was doing fine; the "Code 100" comment wasn't exactly protocol, but he'd let that slide. It did likely serve the purpose of getting the other guards' attention.

Harper swallowed, hoping Nathan's dad couldn't sense just how nervous she really was. If he was aware of what "Code 100" truly meant, he wasn't showing any signs of reacting to it.

After the other guard stations quickly reported back their acknowledgment of the message, David keyed his own microphone. "Let's remember that Clarke is still one of us, people," he said calmly. "Keep the guns down and fingers off the triggers."

Harper turned to look at the older man, starting to gray in his temples. "Thank you, sir," she said. "Clarke's..." She hesitated, uncertain of exactly to put it into words. "Clarke's special to us," she finally said. "She... She kept us alive, when the rest of us were too stupid to take care of ourselves."

David smiled. He gripped the smaller woman's right shoulder, squeezing it the way a proud parent would a child. "You're a good woman, Harper, and a good guard. Don't ever think anything different."

Harper nodded. "Yes, sir," she replied. Looking back up, she saw Clarke and her companion were approaching the gate. "Gate unit, open the gate," she said into her radio. "All clear up here."

"Affirmative," came the reply back through the device, followed by the metallic clanking of the locking bars being retracted.

—O—

As the large, irregular metal doors began to swing outward, Clarke resisted the urge to relax. "Elsa, you should know that the last time I was here, I didn't exactly leave on the best terms."

Elsa smiled. "I know," she said calmly. "You told us the story of having to escape the last time you were here."

"I just..." Clarke began, then she trailed off. "I just really don't want you to get hurt, or caught in the crossfire or something. Your magic's not working as well as it usually does for you, and I'm worried about you."

"You will not go through this alone, Clarke," Elsa said firmly. "You are an ally of Arendelle... and you are our friend. I will remain by your side while you do this."

"I appreciate the support," Clarke said, giving Elsa an honest smile. "Let's hope we won't need anything more than that."

—O—

Elsa looked up at the man and young woman looking down at them from the guard platform atop the main gate. The man had a darker coloration that reminded her of some men from Agrabah and the countries surrounding it, while the girl could have come out of Arendelle based on her sandy hair and fair features. They both held an unusual device, similar to a crossbow but without the arms of the bow.

"Are those the rifles they're holding?" Elsa asked Clarke, keeping her voice low.

"Yes," Clarke replied with the same soft voice.

"Are there many of them?"

Clarke sighed. "Unfortunately, yes."

Elsa nodded. "If possible, I'd like to see one before long. The more I understand how they work, the more I can do with them, although what you have already shown me regarding your weapon and its parts should suffice for what we plan today."

"I think I can manage that," Clarke replied. "Hopefully."

As they passed through the gates, Elsa felt her mouth open slightly as her eyes settled on the largest metal structure she had ever seen. "Balder's blue eyes," she swore softly, scanning the enormous length and size of the irregular metal habitat that used to be the Ark.

"Not as elegant or romantic as Arendelle Castle, but it does have its own grandeur," Clarke said, smiling.

"And it truly fell from the sky?" Elsa asked, turning back to Clarke. "And survived?"

"Barely, but yes. Believe it or not, but the whole Ark was actually MUCH bigger. This is only one section, the one that tolerated the landing better than the others we've found."

"How many sections were there?" Elsa asked, her mind slightly agog as Clarke brought her horse to a halt, and Elsa's mount followed suit. She was trying to consider how much metal it would have taken just to build such a structure; how to get something so massive into the sky and keep it aloft was simply unthinkable.

"Thi— Twelve," Clarke said, correcting herself.

"Heimdall's eyes," Elsa swore to herself. She turned back to Clarke. "And you're sure you don't have magic of your own here?"

"Positive," Clarke nodded. "Although, an old author did make a famous statement about that subject. I'll tell you some other time."

A small crowd had begun to gather around the two women and their horses. No one had gotten close enough to touch either animal, but the gleaming coat of Elsa's horse was already drawing attention. The two women both dismounted; if she hadn't have happened to be looking at Elsa when the Arendellan climbed off her horse, Clarke would have missed the very subtle shifting of the fabric of Elsa's blue dress as the legs reformed themselves back into a long skirt once again.

"Clarke!" Monty called out as he ran toward them, keeping his voice below a shout. "What are you doing here?! If Pike catches you—"

"I came here for him, Monty," Clarke replied.

"Well, that makes things a lot more convenient for both of us then, doesn't it?" called out a voice from the direction of the main body of the Ark.

Everyone turned to see Charles Pike striding toward the small crowd. He didn't have a weapon in his hand, but his pistol was holstered at his side. The two guards following him, however, both carried assault rifles.

Clarke pulled Monty into a hug. "It's good to see you, Monty," she said, patting his back, then running her hands down his arms. "You look healthy. Are you taking care of yourself?"

Monty looked back at Pike, who was over halfway to them by now. He turned back to Clarke. "Clarke... what are you doing?" he asked, thoroughly confused.

"I told you," Clarke said, using Monty to shield her from Pike's vision when she held up the stun baton she had just lifted from Monty's belt before sliding part of it up her right sleeve and concealing the rest in her right hand. "I'm here to deal with Pike. Now scoot, so you don't get caught in the crossfire."

She patted his shoulder, then gently pushed her way around him, walking calmly toward Pike. Elsa followed with Clarke, drawing close enough to whisper, "The rifles are more dangerous than the pistols, correct?"

"Technically, yes," Clarke replied quietly. "But both can kill us."

Pike stopped roughly fifteen feet away. Clarke kept walking until she was just a meter away from him, making the larger man and his two guards visibly uneasy.

"Are you scared of me, Pike?" Clarke asked, her smile visible.

"Absolutely not," he replied. "But I respect your ability to survive when you should, by all rights, be dead."

"As well you should," Clarke answered confidently. Dealing with the Kongeda had taught her a lot about intimidation and how to deal with it. "Charles Pike, I am here to take you prisoner and transport you to the Alliance capitol of Polis, where you will be judged for the crime of mass murder of three hundred Trikru warriors who had been sent to protect Arkadia."

Pike smiled. "Is that so? And who will judge me? You?"

"Oh no," Clarke replied, returning her own wicked smile. "You will be judged by Lexa, Commander of the Thirteen Clans." She paused before adding, "She's not known for her mercy."

Others were now gathering around the confrontation, although everyone was staying well back.

"That woman has no authority over me!" Pike spat harshly.

"Actually, she does," Clarke replied, keeping her words calm while raising her voice. "Arkadia has already joined the Thirteen Clans, an alliance formalized by the last Chancellor before you. That pact still stands." She leaned forward slightly. "You killed our allies, Charles. Men and women who had been sent here to help protect you and the rest of Skaikru!"

"The Grounders don't believe in 'protecting' us!" he shouted back. "They're only waiting for the opportunity to kill us!"

"Bullshit!" Clarke yelled. "Lexa has recognized Skaikru as one of the Clans! Her job is to protect us! But that's kind of hard to do when you're murdering people who are on your side!"

"THEY KILLED MY FAMILY!" Pike shouted, his face contorting with rage.

"The AZGEDA killed your wife, Charles! The Northern Clan who's broke from the Alliance and declared war on the rest of us! Lexa's assembling an army to go fight and kill them, and Skaikru is going to help!"

The two of them stared at each other fiercely for several seconds, Pike's chest visibly rising and falling with each angry breath. "Absolutely none of my people will do any such thing," he said, trying to force calm back into his voice, with limited success.

"Yeah, they will," Clarke replied confidently.

"I AM CHANCELLOR OF ARKADIA!" he shouted.

Clarke kept smiling as she calmly said. "I said this to a Chancellor before you, Pike, but I'll say it again." She leaned forward slightly once more. "You may be Chancellor, but I'm in charge down here."

Pike flashed his teeth in a predatory smile. "We'll see about that," he said as he reached for his radio.

Clarke turned to look at Elsa, nodding ever-so-slightly. Elsa moved her hands, which had been down at her sides, behind her back. From that angle only a handful of people could see the white flash of light manifest around her hands as Elsa concentrated intently on the rifles in front of her while extending her focus over the entire camp; her hands glowed brightly for three seconds before the light disappeared as if it had never been there.

Due to this strange world, Elsa had to strain to work magic on so wide an area with so specific a target, and it was only by her years of experience as a ruler that she was able to keep the strain from showing on her face. Internally, it felt like she had just climbed a mountain, compressed into a few agonizing seconds. She shifted her legs slightly, widening her stance to improve her balance while she recovered from the drain of freezing the firing pins of all the rifles in Arkadia.

"All guards," Pike said into the radio. "If Clarke Griffin does anything other than kneel down on the ground and peacefully allow us to handcuff her in the next ten seconds, you are authorized to shoot to wound her. Do not deliberately shoot to kill."

—O—

In the guard tower above the gate, David Miller lowered the binoculars, a stunned look on his face. "Good God, Charles," he breathed out. "She's a kid."

"No, she's not," Harper said calmly.

David turned to see Harper standing directly beside him, the tip of her stun baton pressed into his side, her thumb on the trigger.

"She's Clarke Griffin," Harper continued. "All of us here owe her our lives, several times over."

Suddenly a cry came across the radio, followed by static, then another shout. Pandemonium carried across the radios for several seconds before things became quiet once more.

"Miller here," came through the radio.

"Go ahead," Harper replied, never taking her eye off David or her thumb off the trigger of her stun baton.

"Post three is secure. Code 100."

"Roger that," Harper replied.

"Post four is secure, Code 100."

"Post two secure. Code 100."

"Post seven secure. Code 100."

"Post six secure. Code 100. We've got your back, Clarke."

"Post five secure. Code 100."

Harper smiled innocently at David. "You've always been a fair, honest person, Mr. Miller," she said calmly. "And I really, really don't want to shock you. You've been one of the few adults here who hasn't consistently treated us like children. So can I trust you not to try to shoot Clarke, knock me out or do anything like that?"

David nodded silently, surprised as much by Harper's duplicity as by the impressive show of unity between the members of the 100 that had been accepted into the guards.

"Do I have your word?" Harper asked, seriously.

David Miller opened his mouth, then closed it as he considered his options. Finally he nodded. "You have my word."

Harper slid her radio back into its pouch on her belt, then she used her free hand to take his rifle from him. She ejected the rifle's clip one-handed, letting it clatter on the platform at their feet. She retracted the stun baton from his ribs, but she kept it in her hand.

"Why didn't you stun me?" David asked.

"I told you," Harper said with a sigh. "You've been good to Zoe, to me and to all the rest of us. And Nathan is a good friend of mine. I really don't want to have to tell him that I shock-sticked his dad. Some people pee on themselves when that happens, you know."

David looked her up and down again, then nodded. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

—O—

Significantly longer than ten seconds passed, with no shots fired. Even the guards behind Pike hadn't raised their guns, instead holding them awkwardly somewhere pointing at the ground and pointing at Clarke.

Pike turned to look over his shoulder. "I AM THE CHANCELLOR!" he shouted. "Shoot her!"

"They couldn't even if they tried."

Everyone turned to look at Elsa, who had drawn herself back up into her full regal bearing before speaking. She had fixed Charles Pike with a withering look that suggested he was somewhere between a biting fly and an insolent child in terms of annoyance.

"And who are you?" Pike said angrily, his patience worn thin and nerves fraying more with each second that passed with Clarke Griffin still standing defiantly in front of him.

"I am Elsa, Queen of the country of Arendelle," she replied coolly. "Sworn ally of the Thirteen Clans, friend of Clarke and Lexa." She narrowed her eyes at Pike, who shivered momentarily. "And you are an unstable, angry little man, blinded by fear and rage, trying to ease the anguish trapped inside you by killing all those you falsely hold responsible for your loss!"

Clarke carefully slid the stun baton a bit more out of her right sleeve, knowing that the guards would be watching her left hand and the pistol holstered on that side. She made sure to keep her left hand close to the gun but not touching it, to keep their attention focused there.

"Your term as Chancellor is over, Pike," Clarke said firmly. "No more murdering Grounders in their sleep. No more risking the lives of Arkadians by ignoring our Alliance."

Time itself seemed to hang for an impossibly long second, before several things happened in quick succession.

Pike drew his pistol, incredibly fast.

Clarke lunged forward, right arm extended with the stun baton out and active.

The two guards behind Pike finally raised their guns to their shoulders.

Elsa realized that in her focus on neutralizing the rifles around them, she had made the mistake of forgetting about the pistols. She felt her magic reflexively surge inside her, but it was unable to react instantaneously due to the nature of this world. Feeling all that in the bare span of half a second, she lunged to her right, pushing Clarke out of the way.

Knocked off balance by Elsa's push, Clarke had to throw herself off balance to stretch forward, finally making contact with Pike's left hip with the tip of the stun baton as she fell to the ground.

The guards pulled the triggers on their rifles; the frozen firing pins refused to move, and the rifles remained inert.

Pike's right hand finally reached chest-level, squeezing the trigger of his double-action pistol just as the electrical surge of the shock stick tore through his body, rendering him helpless.

The impossibly loud bang of the pistol going off, inches away from Elsa, followed instantly by the hardest impact she had ever felt in her life striking her left chest, spinning her body around as it drove her onto the ground.

—O—

As the Trikru and the rescued Azgeda prisoners finalized their preparations to leave Coldspire, Lexa and Anna stood by, quietly talking about the battle the night before.

Until Anna clutched her left chest, screamed and collapsed to the ground.

"ANNA!" Lexa shouted, uncertain as to what had just happened. She knelt down beside her friend, who was writhing on the ground moaning. There was no sign of an arrow or a wound, but she was clearly in agony. "Anna! Anna!" She shook the redhead, only to have to scrabble backward out of the way when Anna suddenly shot to her feet, a wild look in her green-blue eyes.

"It's Elsa!" Anna cried out, utter panic on her face as she grabbed the front of Lexa's coat, pulling the brunette close, her own green eyes wide with surprise. "Elsa's been hurt!" Anna said, eyes starting to brim with tears. "I've got to go!"

Lexa nodded, and no sooner had she done that than Anna was running for her horse. "Anna, I'll send a scout with you!" she yelled. "He can guide you back!"

"No time!" Anna called out over her shoulder, not looking back. "I can feel where she is, and I need to be there with her!"

Her icy horse stood still as Anna shoved her left foot in the stirrup, pulled herself up into the saddle and grabbed the reins. He had already started forward when she slid her right foot into the other stirrup, building up speed as they ran the opening where the front gates of the fortress used to stand.

Lexa ran to the nearest ladder, climbing it quickly and running to the edge of the barrier atop the wall. She saw Anna riding her horse at full speed down the first straight section of the twisting path leading down from Coldspire. "You're going too fast," Lexa said to herself as Anna approached the first turn, a hairpin that nearly doubled back on itself.

"Anna!" Lexa shouted, seeing that, magic horse or not, Anna was going far, far too fast to make the tight curve. The Trikru already atop the wall began shouting as well, even though there was no time for her to slow down.

Instead Anna pushed the horse to go faster.

"ANNA!" Lexa screamed as Anna's horse reached the edge of the narrow path, still accelerating—

And kept on going. Across thin air, leaving faintly glowing marks of white where its hooves would have struck ground, had any been there.

Lexa stared, dumbfounded, as she watched the horse gallop across nothing, heading in a straight line south-by-southwest, almost certainly the direction where Anna's beloved was.

"I pray that you reach her in time," Lexa whispered to herself. And to any gods who might be listening.

—O—

"ELSA!" Clarke screamed, crawling furiously across the ground to her friend. Already a bright scarlet stain was blooming over Elsa's left chest and shoulder. "Someone get my mom!" Clarke cried out as she bent over Elsa, taking in the blood coming out of the entry wound in her left chest. Quickly Clarke tore the bottom of her shirt, upward first, then to the side before tearing down again, removing a long strip of cloth. She folded it and pressed it firmly against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

Clarke looked around wildly, feeling a sense of relief when she saw Octavia. "Octavia!" she said, before stopping. "Octavia? How did you get here?"

The raven-haired girl gave Clarke a look of disbelief. "Seriously?"

"Right, never mind," Clarke replied. "Take Pike's pistol and cuff him."

"On it," Octavia replied, stopping to grab a rifle.

"Not the rifles, they've been disabled. Use his pistol."

"Sha, wanheda," Octavia replied fluidly, doing as Clarke directed.

The sound of running footsteps was followed by the gathered crowd moving aside to let Abby and Jackson through. They were joined by a gasping Monroe, soaked in sweat, and a young Trikru girl holding a bow.

"Wanheda has killed the murderer Pike!" the girl gasped in Trigedasleng, drawing a look of annoyance from Octavia, as Abby and Jackson placed a stretcher beside Elsa.

Abby quickly began, "What h—"

"Pike shot her," Clarke said, still holding pressure on the wound with one hand while using her other to help Jackson and her mother roll Elsa toward Clarke, so they could slide the stretcher under her. "He was trying to kill me."

Abby looked up at that, eyes burning with fury, just as her mind registered the cold against her hands; no sooner had she and Jackson released Elsa's torso on the stretcher than the two of were both looking at their tingling hands. "She's freezing!" Abby said.

"It's her dress," Clarke said quickly. "Elsa—she's my friend, I'll explain in a bit, I promise—pushed me out of the way, resulting in her getting shot herself."

"There was no exit wound," Jackson said, always calm, as he tightened one of the straps around Elsa's torso and arms trying to ignore the hint of numbness fading from his hands. "Bullet's still inside."

"Let's get her to surgery," Abby said. "Clarke, another set of steady hands is always appreciated."

Clarke nodded. "I'll be right there," she said as the three of them stood up, Abby lifting the end at Elsa's feet and Jackson at her head. Marcus Kane finally arrived, hair askew; he looked like he had been trying to sleep and had just been woken up.

"Clarke!" Marcus said, smile spreading across his face and then just as quickly disappearing as she saw Pike's still form on the ground. "What—"

"Pike's been removed as Chancellor," Clarke said, starting to move past him toward the Ark. ""I have to go help Mom and Jackson try to save my friend's life, because Pike fucking shot her. Help Octavia get him into a cell, please, and keep everybody else out of the brig for now."

"But..."

"I'll be down there as soon as I can, I promise! You're in charge until I'm out of Medical!" she called out, finally turning and running into the structure of the Ark.

—O—

"How has she not frozen to death?" Jackson asked quietly as he used trauma shears to cut through the spun ice fabric of Elsa's dress, releasing the material every few seconds to keep his fingers from going numb. "Whatever this is made of, it's as cold as ice."

"It is ice," Clarke said a bit breathlessly as she reached the surgery suite. "Cold doesn't hurt her."

As Clarke shoved her hands first beneath the disinfecting spray, then the ultrasonic cleaner, her mother stopped the motion of her hands to look at her. "How is that possible? Some sort of mutation?"

Clarke shook her head, her blonde hair tossing lightly as she hurried back over the the table. "Magic," she said emphatically.

Seeing the dubious looks, Clarke laughed once. "I swear to God, it's really magic. I've seen it, several times. I'm sure she'll be more than happy to demonstrate, once we save her life."

That jarred the two doctors back into motion again. "Jackson, scan her to see where the bullet's lodged," Abby said, stepping back.

Jackson pressed the button for the fluoroscope; a soft click came from the ceiling, then an image appeared on the screen closest to them.

"That's not possible," Abby said, disbelieving what her eyes were showing her—a completely opaque image in the form of the woman lying unconscious on the table before them.

"How did the fluroscope not scan her?" asked Jackson. "It's like the scan was completely blocked."

"Her magic," Clarke said, smugly. "Try ultrasound. It's not harmful like the radiation of the fluoroscope."

"It's a tiny dose!" Abby said. "A thousand times less than what was used during the antibiotic crisis!"

Clarke ignored her, something she had years of experience at doing. "Jackson, get the ultrasound."

Quickly Jackson handed Clarke the ultrasound transducer. She looked at it for a minute, then handed it to her mother. "You were always better at this than I was," Clarke admitted. Abby looked at her daughter for a few seconds. "Please, Mom," Clarke said. "She and her family saved my life! Now we have to save hers."

Abby blinked, then nodded. She took the transducer and placed it over Elsa's sternum. Immediately the display screen flickered with a grayscale image as the ultrasonic waves began to resonate through Elsa's body.

"I'm pretty sure her magic is protecting her from the radiation here," Clarke said as the three of them watched the display. Her eyes flicked to the box displaying Elsa's vitals: her blood pressure and heart rate were stable, though understandably elevated, so that was reassuring. Maybe the bullet had missed her organs, although that was unlikely, considering where she had been hit. Clarke was sure that at least her left lung had been hit, based on where the entry wound was, and she was also concerned about the aorta and the left subclavian artery.

"I don't see a foreign body at all," Abby said after a tense minute. She pressed a button to activate the Doppler quality; immediately the screen showed a splash of red and a splash of blue. "No free blood in the chest cavity. Aorta and subclavian vessels look fine."

"There was no exit wound," Jackson said. "No blood on her back at all."

Clarke put her hands beneath Elsa's left side and lifted up, making Abby pull the transducer wand away. The protection from cold Elsa had placed on her and Lexa was still working, as she was able to hold Elsa's dress without the slightest discomfort. With the left top of the dress cut away and pulled down, Clarke could see the bare skin of Elsa's upper back, fair with ghostly hints of freckles here and there. There were a few minor abrasions where she had hit the ground, but no open wound. "No exit wound at all. You're right, Jackson."

Clarke replaced Elsa back on the operating table; Abby handed the transducer back to Jackson, who replaced it on the its cradle.

"Where the hell is that bullet?" Abby swore, reaching for forceps and hemostats. Clarke grasped the blood-soaked dressing over the wound, while Jackson stood ready with several pads of sterilized gauze they had scavenged from Mount Weather. Abby turned back around, handing Clarke a set of hemostats; without speaking, Clarke peeled the dressing away, giving a glimpse of rapidly bruising skin around the bloody wound, while Jackson immediately pressed two stacked gauze pads over the wound to staunch new bleeding. Clarke tossed the bloody dressing into the basin to be incinerated later, then returned her attention to the wound in Elsa's chest.

Working with the smoothness that came with years of working together, Jackson removed the gauze he was blotting with to expose the wound opening to Abby, prepared to find and clamp any bleeding vessel. But when he pulled the gauze away, no blood came forth. There was still some pooled blood in the wound, but it was still and darker than expected.

Abby and Jackson looked at each other, both confused at the lack of active bleeding. Wordlessly, Jackson pressed the gauze into the depression, soaking up a significant quantity of the pooled blood. He removed the gauze, with Abby ready again to identify and clamp off any bleeding. But only a tiny layer of blood was visible at the bottom, heavily speckled with what appeared to be dull gray grains of some substance throughout the remaining blood. The wound cavity itself was close to two centimeters deep and about the same across, but there was still no bleeding.

Abby spotted the end of a small superficial blood vessel along the side of the wound, but it wasn't bleeding. She reached in with the hemostat to clamp it, but the tip struck something solid, keeping her from grabbing the exposed end of the vessel. "What the devil is going on here?" she said quietly, removing the hemostat and sticking the tip of her finger into the wound. Sure enough, the side of the wound cavity felt solid and smooth, almost like glass, for a split second before the intense cold nearly burned her fingertip.

Abby jerked her hand away, looking at the thin rime of frost that had formed over the tip of her finger.

"I told you," Clarke said, not bothering to hide her grin. "She's magic. Ice and cold magic, to be precise."

"She's not human?" Abby asked, uncertain whether to trust her senses or not.

"No, she's human," Clarke replied. "Very much so. But she controls cold and ice, and it protects—" Clarke stopped abruptly. "I think I know what happened. Jackson, can you scan those fragments in the blood for metal?" She pointed to the dark specks scattered through the blood that had been soaked up on the gauze pads he was holding. He nodded and quickly moved to placed the gauze on the multiscanner's reading surface.

While he was doing that, Clarke used a small sponge clamp to grasp a folded-up gauze pad and pressed it into the wound on Elsa's chest, soaking up the last of the blood. Sure enough, the base of the wound was hard, and when Clarke removed the pad and looked in, she could see a glassy sheen at the bottom, along with crystallizing fingers of frost.

"The black material in the blood is definitely metal," Jackson said, "but it looks like it's been... powdered, somehow."

"Can the scanner look for microfractures, like if it was frozen to the point where it shattered?"

"It could, but the electron microscope hasn't worked right since the Ark landed."

"Ah." Clarke looked back at her mother, who was alternating between pressing a dry gauze pad into the wound cavity and pulling it out again to look at it, still dry. "It's her magic, Mom. It shattered the bullet after it hit her, before it could go any deeper. That's the only explanation."

Seeing the look of total disbelief on Abby's face, Clarke laughed. "I know, Mom. I know! I was the same way, until she literally created a rabbit, made entirely out of snow, on a table in front of me, and it hopped over to me and sniffed my hand."

A low groan from the table drew everyone's attention back to the patient.

"Elsa?" Clarke said, gently. "Elsa, you're going to be okay. The bleeding's stopped." She looked across the table to Jackson. "Jackson, could you please hand me some alcohol or iodine or whatever you've got for wound cleaning?"

"Sure," he said, nodding. He quickly moved to the nearest wall, retrieving a small tray from a shelf and bringing it back over to the operating table.

As he poured a dark liquid over a sterile pad, handing it Clarke once it was partially saturated, she looked down at the woman lying on the table in front of her. "Hey, Elsa? I'm going to clean out the bullet wound, okay?"

Elsa weakly groaned again; her eyes began to flutter, finally opening but appearing to have momentary difficulty focusing.

"This is going to sting, but we need to clean out the wound so it doesn't get infected. Can you please tell your magic not to freeze my hands if it hurts?"

A weak smile seemed to cross the Arendellan's lips, as she mumbled, "...'Kay. W'll do... my best..."

"Okay, thanks," Clarke said, pressing the iodine-soaked gauze to the wound, smoothly wiping the wound out. Elsa groaned and slid, reflexively trying to pull away, but Clarke held her shoulder with her right hand. "Almost done, Elsa, okay?" she said soothingly. "You're doing great, I promise." She wiped around the wound, grimacing at the purplish discoloration already formed around the wound. Elsa was going to be sore as hell for the next week, at least.

But she was alive.

"...An... na..."

Clarke looked back at Elsa's face. "What?"

Elsa licked her lips. "Anna," she tried again, more coherently this time. Her eyes seemed to focus on Clarke, at least momentarily.

"Hey, you took a hard impact from that bullet, and your magic didn't protect you from all of it. You probably also hit your head when it knocked you down."

Elsa nodded, regretting it when a wave of pain washed over her mind. "Ugh," she moaned, reaching up to her head with her right hand. "Feels... like I've been kicked by a horse."

"Bullets can hit harder than that," Clarke said grimly. "But we don't see any broken bones."

"There was some focal swelling around the clavicle," Abby said, startling Clarke momentarily; she had forgotten anyone else was in the room, so tightly had she been focusing on her friend. "So there could be a hairline fracture in it."

"Okay, so maybe a broken collarbone," Clarke amended, smiling even though she wasn't sure Elsa could register it just yet.

Abby picked up the ultrasound transducer again, moving to the other side of the table; Jackson slid to the side to make room as Abby pressed the transducer against Elsa's skin again. "I'm checking again for any other internal damage," Abby said. "Elsa, my name is Abby. I'm a medical doctor. This device I'm pressing against your chest gives us images of your blood vessels and internal organs. I'm just making sure that there's no damage internal—"

Elsa suddenly tried to sit up, only to be restrained by Clarke's hand. Abby immediately pulled away.

"Hey, Elsa, she's just trying to help!" Clarke said quickly. "it's okay!"

Elsa tried to left her head up, giving up after a throbbing pain pounded through her head. "Is it... safe?" she managed to ask, weakly.

"Safe?" Clarke and Abby both replied, just a moment apart.

Elsa nodded despite the pain. "Safe for... the baby," she finished.

"Baby?" Clarke asked, shocked.

Quickly Abby placed the transducer against Elsa's lower abdomen. "Sound," she said to Jackson, who toggled the audio output. Immediately a swishing sound could be heard throughout the operating room, rapid-fire but regular in rhythm. She looked up to meet Clarke's wide eyes. "Fetal heartbeat," Abby said. Then she smiled. "Sounds strong and healthy."

Elsa's eyes opened, pupils wide as her eyes jerked over to Clarke's face. "Heartbeat?!" she asked. "So that's..."

Clarke shook her head, trying to process what had just happened. "Elsa, you're pregnant?"

"Yes," Elsa said, unable to keep from crying with relief. "The baby is fine?" she asked.

Abby was looking at the screen as she shifted the transducer's position. "Appears to be about fourteen, maybe fifteen weeks," she said calmly. "Yes, the baby looks healthy. Would you like know if it's a boy or a girl?"

Elsa laughed weakly. "It's a girl," she said easily, relief flooding her body. "All our children have been girls, after all."

Abby smiled despite knowing Elsa couldn't see her where she currently was. "It certainly looks like a girl to me." She put the transducer back up after powering it off, then she moved back up to the head of the bed.

"Clarke," Elsa said, looking at Clarke as her eyes finally started to stay focused.

"What is it, Elsa?" Clarke replied, still a bit in shock that Elsa cared enough for her and Lexa to journey to a different world to help them while she was pregnant.

"Anna," Elsa said. Her eyes were brimming with tears, and her face was tight with concern once more. "Anna's on her way here."

"She's with Lexa, at Coldspire."

Elsa shook her head, flinging a few tears loose, sending them trickling down the sides of her face. "No. She's coming here, now. She knows I'm hurt."

Clarke started to argue, before she remembered Elsa talking about feeling that Anna wasn't in pain two nights ago. "She can feel you, like you can her?" she asked.

"When one of us is hurt, yes," Elsa replied. "And she knows that I was hurt badly." Elsa swallowed, then tried to wipe the tears out of her eyes, with limited success. "Clarke, you have to tell your guards. You have to tell them to not try to stop her."

Clarke nodded. "I'll make sure they don't do anything to hurt her."

"NO!" Elsa said, so sharply that Clarke jumped. Elsa shook her head. "No, Clarke, you don't understand. I'm worried about her hurting them."

"But why..." Clarke started, confused.

"Because she knows that I've been hurt," Elsa said calmly. "Because she's upset, and angry... and scared." Elsa looked patiently at Clarke. "If you knew Lexa had been seriously hurt, and someone was trying to keep you from seeing her, what would you be willing to do to get to see her?"

Clarke felt her chest tighten as she considered Elsa's words. "Anything," she breathed out.

Elsa nodded. "Exactly." She smiled again. "Please tell them to not try to stop her or even slow her down. Just have her brought back to me immediately, wherever I am, whatever condition I'm in."

Clarke nodded, now understanding. "Of course," she said. "I'll tell them at shift change in the morning."

"No," Elsa said, trying to sit up again, wincing at the pain in her left shoulder and chest. "No, Clarke, you have to tell them now."

"Elsa, they're at Coldspire. That's a three-day ride, two if you really push it."

Elsa smiled, still with that same motherly patience in her blue eyes. "Clarke, Anna knows I've been hurt. She doesn't know any details, and she doesn't know if the baby is healthy or not. She'll be here much, much sooner than that."

—O—

Anna's tears had long since dried into horizontal trails on each side of her face along the temples. Day had given way to dusk, and dusk had yielded to night, but Anna rode on, racing across the sky.

In the blackness of the night, her horse was glowing a soft blue-white, like her sword and shield would, and a fierce tailwind was propelling them even faster as they left a faint trail of light across the sky, borne of sparkling frost that hovered in the air behind them for several seconds, like the trail of a comet.

Anna had lost count of how many times she had sobbed while driving her poor, sweet horse harder and harder. She had tied herself into the saddle with rope from her saddlebag in case she were to fall asleep—or pass out—while riding, but so far her racing thoughts had kept her mind in turmoil.

Elsa was alive. That she knew. That she could feel. And that was all.

So Anna rode, with a storm at her back, the fierce winds pushing her ahead to speed her journey to her partner.

On the ground below, those who saw the blue light streak across the sky that night reacted differently. Some saw it as an omen from their gods, or from the universe itself, portending some imminent disaster. Others saw it as a sign of blessing, a brightness to illuminate the darkness of the night. But all would tell stories of it for years to come.

—O—

The stinging of someone changing the bandage over her left chest woke Elsa from her sleep, a reflexive hissing on her lips.

"Sorry," said a quiet voice beside her.

Elsa opened her eyes to see the brunette woman from before. "My apologies," Elsa said. "For complaining," she added, when she saw the question in the older woman's eyes.

"You were shot earlier today," Abby replied. "I think you're entitled to complain a bit."

Elsa smiled despite the throbbing in her left shoulder. "Thank you," she said, maintaining a calm voice. She started to sit up, but the movement sent a jolt of pain from her left neck all the way down her left arm. She gasped slightly.

"Careful!' Abby said. "You've got a hairline fracture of your left clavicle, the collarbone. Normally we'd put your arm in a sling, but that would interfere with caring for the wound, so you have to try to keep your left arm as still as possible."

Elsa nodded, being very careful not to move her left arm at all with the movement. She gingerly lifted her right hand; finding that it wasn't tied down or restrained in any way, she moved her right hand until it was over her left shoulder. She looked back at the other woman. "Is the bandage in place now?" she asked.

Abby nodded, curious. She had just finished and was taping the bandage down, using more of their recently acquired supplies.

Satisfied with the reply, Elsa concentrated, focusing her magic through her body. It took a little over three seconds before her right hand began to glow, with frost crystallizing and sparkling in the air around her hand and over her right shoulder.

As Abby watched in amazement, the glittering magic spread to cover Elsa's left arm, gently bending her arm at the elbow and rotating it across her chest while forming a solid crystal sheath over Elsa's left shoulder with a frosty sling supporting her right forearm and holding it in place. As the pain eased once her arm settled into position, Elsa felt her body relax slightly now that she wouldn't be accidentally moving that arm.

"I can dissolve this at any time, I assure you," Elsa said. "I just prefer to have some support so I don't accidentally make anything worse. I hurt the same arm not quite a week ago."

Abby swallowed. "That... That was..."

Elsa opened her eyes again, taking in the shocked look on Abby's face. "Yes, Clarke explained that you don't have magic here," she said pleasantly. "It's a bit harder for me to use in this world, or that man wouldn't have been able to shoot me at all." Seeing the trepidation still writ large across Abby's face, Elsa smiled. Or maybe that was from the pain finally starting to ease now that her arm was securely immobilized.

"I'm Elsa," she said, lifting her right hand and offering it to Abby, palm down and fingers kept together, as befit a lady.

"I'm... Abby," the older woman replied, numbly grasping Elsa's fingers and lightly shaking her hand up and down, a gesture so awkward it almost made Elsa laugh.

"So you must be Clarke's mother," Elsa said, remembering some of the discussions she and Clarke had had over the last few days.

"Why?" Abby asked, her voice immediately wary. "What horrible things has she told you about me?"

Despite the ache in her shoulder, Elsa smiled. "What I've been told has been tempered by my own experiences as a mother," she said pleasantly.

Feeling a bit of relief, Abby visibly relaxed. "Congratulations," she said in a friendly manner. "When did you have your baby? Well, first baby, I presume," she added, gesturing to Elsa's abdomen. The blonde girl couldn't be more than a teenager herself, already having a second baby, but that was the way of things for hundreds of years, Abby considered. It wasn't her place to judge.

"Our oldest daughters will turn fourteen in less than two months," Elsa said. "I carried Erin and Anna carried Elin."

Abby stopped and gave Elsa a dubious look. "There's no way you have teenage children. You can't be more than twenty or twenty-one yourself."

"Actually, I'm thirty-five," Elsa replied.

Abby quickly did the math in her head. "How are you closer to my age than to Clarke's?" she asked, amazed.

"Probably the magic," Elsa said. "Anna doesn't seem to be aging either."

"And that's your wife?"

Elsa nodded. "It's a long, winding story, but our True Love for each other wound up saving both our lives. And once we accepted that, we slowly progressed to lovers, then to spouses."

Elsa closed her eyes and thought of her Anna. Instantly she felt a burning sensation deep in her chest. Anna was close, and she was near-frantic.

Elsa opened her eyes again, after trying to send reassurance to Anna that she was fine. However, in the state Anna was no doubt in, Elsa worried that her mate couldn't recognize anything beyond her own fear.

Elsa sighed. She knew all about that.

Trying to take her mind off Anna and knowing that her heart would be here soon, Elsa looked up at Abby again as the woman lingered in the room. "It's hard to let her go, I know," Elsa said softly.

Abby looked down, thoughts interrupted. "What?"

"Clarke. It's hard to let them go."

Abby smiled sadly. "Clarke already took care of that herself."

Elsa reached over and slowly took Abby's hand. The older woman was hesitant at first, worried about her hand possibly freezing, but she was pleasantly surprised at how warm Elsa's hand was. "Clarke is a very good young woman," Elsa said. "She's brave, intelligent and caring. She has a strong sense of loyalty and of justice. You should be proud to have raised such a wonderful daughter."

Abby sighed, but she didn't pull away from Elsa's touch. "Sometimes I am," she admitted. "And sometimes I think she hates me." She looked at Elsa. "The two overlap most of the time."

Elsa nodded. "For what it's worth, I don't think she hates you," she said quietly. "I do think she's uncertain exactly how she feels about you. But you have to remember, she's also having to find herself as well, in a very harsh, unforgiving world. Compound that by placing the responsibility for so many others on her shoulders, and it's easy to see why she feels frustrated and overwhelmed."

Now Abby smiled, for the first time since Elsa had met her. "It sounds like you have some experience with that," she said. "Clarke mentioned that you were a queen, but that your kingdom was very far away."

"A world away, in fact," Elsa replied, nodding. "How much has Clarke explained?"

"Enough that I find it incredibly hard to believe."

Elsa laughed, and the sound of it was so foreign, so human that it nearly made Abby tear up in response. "Oh, you still have much to learn, then," Elsa said gleefully. "If that's the extent of your disbelief!"

—O—

"Clarke, please come to the front gate."

The sound of her name over the radio woke Clarke from her sleep immediately. She jumped up, seeing Octavia and Lincoln—who had refused to leave her side after the Trikru prisoners had been freed—sitting across the room from her, guarding her. The two of them rose to their feet as well, grabbing swords as Clarke buckled her pistol belt around her waist.

"Thanks for watching over me," Clarke said to Octavia, then looking up to Lincoln. "And it's good to see you without bars in the way."

"Mochof, Wanheda," Lincoln said, thanking her in Trikru.

"Of course," Clarke replied in English. "I'm just glad Pike hadn't killed you yet." She turned and hurried out of the stateroom, walking quickly down the hallway.

It was still night when they came outside, lit only by the moon above and the lights mounted on the guard posts. Clarke looked around, only to find a woman a few years older than her running toward her. The woman was wearing a guard uniform, but Clarke didn't recall her name, if she had ever met her at all. Her gun wasn't raised, but Clarke expected Octavia's sword behind her was. "What's going on?" Clarke asked, still a bit uneasy at how readily everyone had accepted her leadership after the showdown between her and Pike during the day. Only Hannah Green, Monty's mom, had caused a stir, resulting in her being locked up in the brig as well.

"We were told to notify you if we noticed anything unusual," the woman replied.

Clarke waited a moment, stifling a yawn. "Okay?" she finally asked.

The woman pointed over Clarke's shoulder, toward the sky. "That's unusual."

Clarke turned to see what appeared to be a pale blue streak in the sky, curving slowly as it appeared to be losing altitude. It bore more than a passing resemblance to the comets she had rarely seen growing up on the Ark, but the specific shade of blue-white was already familiar to Clarke.

"That's Anna, Elsa's wife," she said calmly. "Making one hell of an entrance."

The four of them watched the blue streak gently arc toward them, and over the next few minutes more and more people had gathered in the courtyard to watch the unique sight as the glowing object grew steadily larger.

"Clarke, where the fuck did you meet these people?" Octavia whispered slowly.

"O, I'm not sure you'd believe me if I told you," Clarke said, unable to tear her eyes away from the gleaming light that was quickly approaching them. She raised her voice, making sure it carried across the open area. "Everybody, this is a friend coming in! DO NOT attack and DO NOT try to stop her! She's tired, she's pissed off and she's worried about her wife! Just stay out of her way!" She then retrieved her radio, thumbing the microphone button. "Guard posts, did you get that?"

"Affirmative, Clarke."

"Copy, Clarke."

Several more crackling replies came through, but Clarke had already put her radio back on her belt.

The blue glow began to fade as a strong gust of wind blew across the open grounds. Now Anna and her horse could be clearly seen, as the horse's blue shine had nearly faded; it was mere meters from the ground, its gallop slowing as Anna wearily held the reins.

In the admittedly short time Clarke had known her and Elsa, she had never seen Anna look so haggard and weary. Her posture was that of someone exhausted, her lips set in a grim line. Her face was a bright red, looking like it had been burned, and her bare hands appeared much the same.

"God, she's just a kid too," Octavia whispered, just barely audible to Clarke, as the ice horse's hooves lightly touched the ground with soft clomps. The beast came to stop after a few more steps, and it too looked exhausted, with frozen beads of perspiration heavily dotted across its neck and flanks. (Which struck Clarke as odd as well, but then this was magic she was talking about. Who knew exactly how it worked?)

"She's older than we are," Clarke said quietly, patting Octavia on the shoulder. "And has two daughters who are almost as old as you."

Clarke turned and walked over to Anna, who slowly dismounted from the saddle. As soon as Anna's feet touched the ground, her legs buckled, sending her briefly onto her knees, but she pushed her way back up off the ground before Clarke could reach her.

"Elsa's inside," Clarke said, although Anna wasn't looking at her; rather, the redhead's gaze was intensely focused somewhere behind Clarke, in the direction of the Ark itself, although she stood swaying slightly, like she was in a daze. "Anna!" Clarke said, trying to get her friend's attention.

The Arendellan's head turned slightly, her bleary eyes barely registering Clarke's face. Her face was clearly burned, her lips cracked and peeling; she looked miserable, but there was a burning drive that was still visible in her eyes beneath the redness.

"I'll take you to Elsa," Clarke said. "Come on."

Anna nodded, prompting Clarke to immediately turn and hurry toward the metal structure of the Ark. Anna trailed behind her, eyes not straying to take in the unusual structure nor the people who had lined up to watch. Silently Clarke led her deeper into the metal corridors, finally down a long hallway and into a double door that slid open as they approached.

"Clarke?" asked Abby, who had just come to Medical to check on Elsa.

Clarke lifted her left index finger to her lips, then stepped aside so that Anna could see Elsa, lying in a bed across the large open space; hers was the only bed that had been set up and occupied in the small patient ward, making the space look nearly empty, but all Anna's eyes could focus on anyway was the blonde woman lying just meters away from her.

Tears began to pour down Anna's cheeks as she numbly unbuckled her belt, letting her sword, shield and dagger drop to the floor as she quickly walked across the empty space of the ward. Seeing her mate here at last, Elsa began crying herself as a huge smile spread across her face. Abby noted Elsa's blood pressure and heart rate spike on the monitor; with a swift tap from her finger, she silenced the alarms before they could interrupt the reunion between partners.

"I'm okay, Anna," Elsa said, using her right hand to wipe tears away. "My arm got hurt, but it'll be fine." Anna stopped to pull off her boots; her chin trembled as she registered Elsa's left arm in a sling and her wife's shoulder encased in an icy cast. "I'm alive," Elsa said softly, "and you're here, and our baby is fine, and that's all that matters."

Without another word, still wearing the rest of her clothes, Anna climbed up onto the small bed, taking care to not bump Elsa as she went over her, settling against the right side of Elsa's body in the small space between Elsa and the bed railing as she wrapped her arms and legs around Elsa.

"What happened to your face?" Elsa asked gently as she took in the stinging redness over Anna's face and ears.

"Don't know," Anna mumbled, closing her eyes and snuggling against Elsa. "Don't care. Here w' you. Tha's all that matters..." Her voice trailed off tiredly at the end.

"You stink," Elsa said, the words softened with love and adoration.

"Hadn't stopped riding," Anna replied, her voice muffled against Elsa's skin, a sensation which elated Elsa's spirit in a way she had been craving for days. "Had to get to you."

"And you succeeded, my heart," Elsa said proudly, hugging Anna closer, an action which elicited a happy (if weary) squeak of delight from the redhead. "I knew you'd be here soon. I told them to be looking out for you."

Somehow, despite the bone-deep exhaustion throughout her frame, Anna lifted her head enough to look into Elsa's eyes. Despite the burns on her face, on her nose, on her ears, Anna's eyes were luminous in their blue-green color at that moment. "Nothing could have stopped me from getting to you," she said, deadly serious.

Elsa blinked tears away before leaning forward and kissing Anna first on the forehead, then on her little nose, then on her lips, holding that last kiss significantly longer than the others. "I know," Elsa whispered against Anna's lips, feeling a tingle between them where their skin touched.

"Before you fall asleep on me, which is exactly what I'm wanting you to do, by the way, you need to take a quick bath," Elsa said, already bracing herself for Anna to protest. "You've ridden all day and much of the night, and you smell like it."

"But—"

"I'm not going anywhere, Anna, and neither are you. But I know you're itching and uncomfortable, and a nice bath would help keep your muscles from being in knots tomorrow."

Anna smiled despite the motion making her lips crack painfully. "Plus I stink."

Elsa smiled back. "Plus you stink."

The love in Anna's eyes made Elsa's heart ache with happiness. "They have a very nice shower setup. Clarke can show you where it is."

"Okay," Anna said, leaning her head forward to touch it against Elsa's.

"How did you get burned?" Elsa asked softly.

"No idea," Anna said. "It was starting to tingle last night, but I... really wasn't paying attention to much of anything today. Except getting here to you."

Elsa smiled; she could feel the heat of Anna's skin where their foreheads touched. Her poor Anna. Her sweet, stubborn, unstoppable Anna. "Go wash up," Elsa said, cupping Anna's left cheek with her right hand. "I'll be here waiting on you, and we can sleep right here all night."

"Okay," Anna said. "Does this bed lay flat, at least?"

Elsa smiled. "It does."

"Good thing."

Elsa patted Anna's cheek lightly. "You're sleeping tonight," she said. "Plenty of time for other activities once you're rested again." With a playful smile, Elsa added, "Plus you've already gotten me pregnant anyway."

With a light-hearted groan, Anna carefully straddled Elsa, then turned to step out of the bed. "I'll be back as soon as I'm clean," she said.

"I'll be right here," Elsa replied, the smile permanently fixed on her face now that Anna was back with her.

"I'll show you to the showers and find some clothes for you," Clarke said, starting to turn but holding her position as she saw Anna stop to pick up her swordbelt.

Anna quickly positioned the belt across her waist, buckling it into place before she looked back up at Clarke. "There's one stop I want to make first," she said as the two of them walked out of the medical bay.

—O—

"So that's Anna," Abby said as the doors whished closed behind Clarke and Anna exiting. "She's lovely."

"She's the most beautiful thing in existence," Elsa said seriously. "With our children very close seconds."

"How old is she?"

"Thirty-three."

Abby turned to look at Elsa again; it was obvious the woman wasn't going back to sleep until her wife had returned, so they might as well chat a bit. "You don't have any of that magic to share with some of us, do you?' she asked, jokingly. "I'd like to look as young as the two of you."

Elsa smiled, a bit self-consciously. "Our twins share the same magic, but Kari doesn't appear to."

"So you passed it on? Your magic?" Abby considered. How would the genetics for magic work? It was an intriguing question, though likely one that would never be answerable.

"It appears so. We have no idea if this little girl will have it or not," Elsa said, gently rubbing her belly with her left hand, which did happen to be positioned right there. "But we'll love her either way."

Abby paused, wondering if she should mention what she was thinking. Finally she made up her mind. Elsa was her patient, so Abby was her physician. "Elsa, I do have some concerns about the high radiation level here. I'm not sure if medical science where you're from is aware of the damaging effects radiation can have on fetuses, but the damage can be devastating. Even lethal."

Elsa nodded. "Clarke and I have already talked about that," she said calmly. "I can tell that my magic is protecting both Lise and me from the 'radiation.' After she discussed her theory about it, I was able to feel that the cold is definitely shielding my whole body, and thus little Lise, from something constantly. You telling me about your 'scanner' that uses a different type of radiation being blocked helped confirm it."

Elsa smiled at Abby. "Abby, thank you for your concern about Lise. If I thought that she was being harmed by being here, I would absolutely return to Arendelle, and I know Clarke would understand. But this baby growing inside me and her connection to my magic both feel perfectly fine."

Abby nodded. "I understand." She took a deep breath, then slowly blew it out. "Clarke... hasn't told me too much about what happened when she met you and your family, but she said that you and your daughters saved her life." She carefully laid her left hand across Elsa's, taking care to only touch Elsa's hand and not her abdomen. "From one mother to another, thank you for looking out for my child, even if she's a grown woman now."

Elsa smiled back. "It was our pleasure to do so, Abby. And thank you for working to save my life and the life of my child."

Anna's breathed in raggedly. "Maybe once you and Anna have rested up, we can talk some more?" she asked, oddly hopefully for another opportunity to gain more insight into the enigma that her daughter's life had become.

"I'd like that as well," replied Elsa, quite seriously.

—O—

Harper and Nathan Miller both looked up when the doors to the brig opened to reveal Clarke and a strange redhead who was wearing... armor. Chain mail, beneath her green shirt and pants, a white mail that nearly glowed in the dim lighting of the prison ward. Her face was freckled but looked heavily sunburned, and the look on her face as she cast her gaze around the prison block was nothing short of furious.

"That's Pike," Clarke said, pointing to the cell holding the former Chancellor.

Immediately the redhead was striding forward, stopping just short of the barred door. "Open this door," she called out over her shoulder.

Clarke met Harper's and Miller's concerned gaze. Anna had already acknowledged that she wasn't going to kill Pike on the way to this section of the Ark. She had promised Clarke that she understood that Pike had to return to Polis and face his fate there, in front of the people whom he had wronged the most. Clarke looked at Anna again, her furious eyes glaring holes in Pike through the bars of his cell before the Arendellan looked back at Harper and Nathan.

"If you don't open this door right now, I'll carve each of these bars out myself to get to him!" Anna cried out, her voice breaking with emotion.

Clarke nodded to her friends. She had little doubt Anna could make good on her statement, after what she had seen over the last three weeks.

Nathan pressed the button that turned off the maglock holding the cell door closed. Taking a deep breath and holding her tongue, Harper slid the barred door back quickly.

Pike immediately lunged forward toward the opening, only to be met by a cinnamon-haired ball of fury who was running on adrenaline and rage. Pike, who outmassed Anna by over thirty kilograms, never stood a chance.

As Pike stretched his arms out to grab for Anna, the woman dropped nearly to the ground while still charging forward, driving her left shoulder into Pike's gut and using her arms to grab his legs; she used her strong legs to keep charging forward until she slammed him into the rear wall of the cell, using his body to cushion her impact and keep from slamming her head into the wall. She then grabbed him by the shirt and jerked him toward her and to the side, tripping him with her left leg to send him sprawling onto the floor.

Rather than try to regain his footing, Pike stayed on the ground and swept his right leg backward, trying to catch Anna's legs and knock her down as well, but she had stayed out of range, waiting for him to get back up, eyes still burning with anger.

The temperature began to drop into the prison, but Clarke didn't notice it until she saw frost begin to rime on the bars of Pike's cell. When Nathan started to go into the cell, Clarke held her arm out to stop him.

"Elsa, the blonde that Pike shot earlier today, is Anna's wife," Clarke said simply. "She's not going to kill him. And he did charge her first, trying to escape."

Watching Anna meet Pike's growling charge with a fist to his temple, sending the larger man back down onto a knee, Harper said, "It's not a very fair fight."

Before Pike could stand, Anna kicked him under his chin, clacking his teeth together hard enough for her to hear it; only luck had Pike's tongue in a position where he didn't bite through it.

"You almost killed my wife!" Anna screamed, shoving Pike backwards, sending him slamming onto his back. She fell on top of him, straddling his chest. "You almost killed our BABY!"

Harper's head whirled to look at Clarke.

Clarke nodded. "Elsa's pregnant. About fifteen weeks, give or take."

Harper's head whirled back around to the fight, now silently cheering for Anna to hit Pike harder.

Seeing icicles beginning to form from the ceiling, Clarke decided that things probably needed to stop soon, before the man froze to death. "Anna!" she called out.

Pike finally landed a blow, a left-handed strike to Anna's jaw that seemed to have no effect on the redhead's fury. She responded with a left-handed punch of her own to Pike's jaw that drove his head into the metal floor of the cell with a ringing sound.

"ANNA!" Clarke shouted, trying to get the Arendellan's attention. She really didn't want to have to go in there with them.

But it was Pike fumbling for a weapon and awkwardly wrapping his right hand around the handle of Anna's sword that ended the fight.

The man's agonized scream rang out, reflecting off the metal walls of his cell, as he felt the intense cold bite deeply and painfully into his fingers and hand, freezing flesh, muscle and blood all at once into a rigid, twisted shape.

Anna stopped what she was doing and looked down. Seeing the tendrils of frost trailing upward from his frozen right hand, its digits excruciatingly locked into place, Anna mumbled, "Idiot." She leaned forward; Pike's eyes were clenched tightly shut, mouth open in an ongoing silent scream. "No one can wield my sword except Elsa or me, or one of our daughters!"

She stood up, letting Pike roll onto his left side, clutching at his right wrist. "I was trying to fight you fairly!" she said hotly, leaning over him. "You were the one who tried to take my sword!"

"ANNA!" Clarke yelled again, finally getting the queen to look at her.

"What?!" Anna said, loudly.

"I think you've made your point," Clarke said firmly.

Anna glared at her friend for a few seconds before she turned her attention back to Charles Pike. The man was tossing and turning on the floor, left hand clenched around his right forearm, stopping short of touching his ruined right hand.

Suddenly Anna felt impossibly tired. She was dirty, bedraggled and exhausted. She felt the anger seep out of her, immediately replaced by a fatigue that seemed to saturate her flesh and bones in the span of seconds. It was all she could do to turn and walk to the door of the cell, which was slid open by the blonde girl standing guard.

Anna walked out; it took supreme effort for her to lift her head enough to look at Clarke. "I need to take a shower, then I think I'll probably sleep for a day or two," she said slowly. It had become an effort to stay upright at this point now that the adrenaline was fading and she was crashing.

"Come on," Clarke said, gently tugging on Anna's hand to start her moving forward. "I'll take you to the showers, then get you back to your woman."

Anna smiled, despite the stinging pain on her face and in her lips.

—O—

"Okay, here's the shower section," Clarke said, stepping into the anteroom where towels were kept and clothes could be placed in hampers, to be washed later. She waved her arm forward at the shower panels coming out of the wall. "We've got enough room for four showers to be going at once, although the hot water is solar-powered and tends to run out late at night or if more than two people are showering. Raven's rigged up a water capture system that..."

She trailed off, realizing that she hadn't seen her friend Raven all day. Pike was dealt with, so now she had to deal with whatever shit Jaha was trying to stir up, and from what Murphy had said, Raven was already mixed up in it. Maybe she needed to talk to her mom after all, as much as Clarke really didn't want to.

The sound of clothing hitting the floor vaguely registered in the back of Clarke's mind, but the sight of a very nude Anna numbly walking past her registered much more strongly.

"Uhm, Anna..." Clarke said, trying to not swallow her tongue. "Just... turn the dials, left is hot and— Oh, you've got it. Never mind, you had showers and baths at Arendelle, too."

Anna mutely nodded, retrieving a cake of soap from a shelf built into the wall of the shower, staring straight ahead.

"Okay, I'll just, uh, be right outside if you need anything," Clarke managed to gulp out as she politely turned around. Jesus, those freckles do go all the way down. "Shampoo is in the bottles up there. Between the Grounders and some of our chemistry people, we've got some really good stuff."

"Okay," Anna said weakly, her voice barely audible over the hissing of the water.

Clarke resolutely stepped outside, pulling the door closed as she slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor. As tired as Anna was, it wouldn't surprise her for the redhead to pass out, and she wanted to be able to help her if she did.

Several minutes later, Clarke heard the water turn off. "Everything okay?" she called out, opening the door slightly but not looking inside.

"Yeah," she heard Anna croak. "Just getting a towel and drying off."

A few minutes later, the door opened, revealing Anna standing there with just a long towel wrapped around her, covering her from most of her breasts to the tops of her thighs. She had her chain mail and her clothes wadded up into a pile, which she was carrying, and she had slung her sword belt across her right shoulder. "I figure you can protect me from here to Elsa," Anna said, mustering up a grin for Clarke despite her weariness.

Clarke nodded. "Absolutely," she said.

However, that promise turned out to be unnecessary, as only shadows and empty corridors greeted them on the way back to the Medical section. As they re-entered, Abby turned around from where she had been sitting on a stool next to Elsa's bed.

"I can take your clothes and have them washed," Clarke said. "I have no idea how you clean chain mail, though."

Anna smiled. "Thank you, but I can just wash them tomorrow. Or Elsa can blast the sweat, blood and grime out of them, once she rests up."

Abby stood as Anna and Clarke crossed the mostly empty space of the medical bay. "Anna, I'd like to take a look at those burns later, if you don't mind. I think we can make something to help with them, but if they're radiation burns, then you might need—"

Through an impressive yawn, Anna managed to say, "Are they going to kill me tonight?"

"It certainly doesn't appear so, but—"

"Oh good." Anna gave Elsa a sly wink; with her back turned to Clarke and Abby, neither of them could see the gesture. Before Elsa could say anything, Anna had dropped her towel and was climbing into bed with Elsa.

"O-kay!" Clarke said, quickly turning around as Abby did the same. "Did not need to see that again! Night you two!"

Abby started to say something, but as Clarke grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled her mother forward, Abby settled for calling out, "No fooling around! You both need to rest!" as Clarke ushered her out the double doors, closing the doors to Medical behind them.

"Again?" Elsa sighed quietly as Anna slid her now-clean body against her wife, with Elsa quickly covering them with the light sheet she had been using as a cover.

"Yeah, that first one wasn't deliberate. I was asleep on my feet getting into that shower and kind of forgot Clarke was still talking to me."

"I think it's time for you to get some rest, my sweet Anna," Elsa said, kissing Anna on the forehead as the redhead rested her head on Elsa's right shoulder before leaning in and placing a warm kiss on the side of Elsa's fair neck.

"No argument from me, Els..." Anna said, her voice fading as she finally succumbed to the siren song of sleep.

Elsa gently ran her right hand over Anna's hair, straight and loose, as she felt Anna's soft breaths brush against her neck, each one a warm, soothing reassurance that Anna was still there, was still breathing. "Njord's waves, your hair is going to be the biggest mess ever tomorrow," she said, with perfect big sister intonation. "But I'll love brushing and untangling every single wild, fiery lock of it." She rested her right hand against the bare skin of Anna's side as she dissolved her own gown, leaving nothing between the two of them as Elsa let herself drift off to sleep as well, a smile matching that of Anna's on her lips..

—O—

Author's Afterword: Hope that chapter can tide you over for a few more weeks! Stuff's finally starting to happen here, and there's still plenty more to come before it's all over. I realize this chapter was a bit longer than I had planned, but I just couldn't leave the chapter without Elsa and Anna back in each other's arms again. They've had a rough day here, and they deserve a peaceful night's sleep together.

See you soon!