Taming Chaos // J.M // The 100

Chapter 49

Stepping outside the gates is like stepping into another dimension. It's been, what? Six days since Ethan was out and about? Getting straight back into it, it seems. If he thought Michael the Skybox Gaurd was intimidating, then he'd hate to know what level these grounders are on.

Large hands pat Ethan down for weapons, dig into his boots, search his pockets, even sift quickly through his braided hair as they've done with Clarke's before roughly releasing him.

He can only breathe after they've made it past all the armed warriors to reach the nearest tent.

Ethan doesn't know how Clarke's keeping such a straight face

A man almost three heads taller meets the girl's eyes. "If you so much as look at her the wrong way, I will slit your throat."

I'm a dead man walking. Despite the sudden panic that he might be "looking at them the wrong way", Ethan steadily holds the gaze that turns towards him and presents a single nod.

The warrior steps away, drawing the silk flap back to let them inside.

Clarke prompts Ethan to start walking, striding all the way through with her head held high, stopping directly in front of the Commander's luxurious wooden chair. He's amazed every time by what the grounders can create with Earth materials.

They didn't have trees in the Ark to work with.

Designs were limited.

Ethan slows to a stop beside the grounder at the exit. He has a nagging feeling that they won't let him in any further and that's probably because all the man has to do is step down from his post and drive a knife through Ethan's neck.

Swallowing hard, he examines the Commander.

She's stunning, in a scary kind of way. Like Clarke can absolutely be. Her age does surprise him. Because she looks roughly as old as they are, on the cusp of adulthood.

A thin layer of chalk circles her eyes and streaks across her forehead, different compared to the designs he's seen on the others. Most likely for a person of her high rank.

Ethan's hands are shaking. With no jacket to hide them, he attempts to use his pockets. But the understanding doubles down: the grounders would think it a threat.

He aborts the movement, instead glances at the warrior beside the Commander's chair.

Dark skin, dark eyes and a number of menacing scars. She hits him with a glare that'd have men running for the hills but Ethan's already made a commitment and that happens to include staying right where he is.

Out of respect, he ducks his head.

And locates the closest escape route, nearest weapon - which could be used to cut out another exit - and the smartest person to take down first if anything happened. His eyes shift to the warrior's boots beside his own. Safest bet would be to disable him first, seize the blade and threaten the Commander. If that was the only way to get Clarke out, he'd do it.

Ethan hopes it doesn't come to that.

Because even if they do make it out of the tent - big if - then they'll be faced against every single grounder waiting outside. . . The strategy has holes he can't fill, too many vulnerable points. It won't get them very far.

"So you're the one who burned three hundred of my warriors alive?"

The Commander spins the knife threateningly in a palm. Ethan glances up through fallen strands of hair and watches the movement, knowing exactly how precise their aim is.