Loyal

Chapter Two

Snow didn't know if it was day or night. That was what the cell was designed to do. Disorient her.

And every now and then, they'd torture her, afterward giving her just enough food and water to keep her alive.

It was almost as horrible as Azgeda torture. Almost.

"Gyon op," a sharp voice snarled. Get up.

As light poured into the prison, Snow let her eyes adjust and smiled to see Anya.

After one last punch under the jaw, Anya let her out, "Go see Lincoln."

Snow nodded, walking out of the tent, limping.

"Snowflake," a voice greeted.

"Lincoln," Snow looked over to see the man in his small den, a cave.

She greeted him Trikru style, grabbing his forearm with one hand, patting his shoulder with the other. He did the same.

"What happened?" Lincoln asked.

"A week in the cell," Snow answered simply as he stitched her back together, adding bandages.

Lincoln was a great warrior, but also a remarkable healer, one of the only two in the woods clan, Trikru.

As she was about to leave, she heard a muffled moan.

"What was that?" Snow asked.

Before Lincoln could answer, he was knocked out, a Skaikru girl behind him lifting another rock to her before freezing.

"Bellamy?" She mumbled.

A sharp pain hit the back of Snow's head, knocking her unconscious.

"Snow," Lincoln's ruff voice was hoarse as he said her name.

Her first instinct was to fight, but she stayed still, noticing that she was chained up at her arms, and down at her feet.

As she looked around, all she saw were Skaikru. Her grandmother would kill her for this. Or at least find some way to make her life even more miserable.

"She's awake," a dark skinned boy with slightly fuzzy hair announced in English.

Strange.

"What do they want?" Snow asked Lincoln, who was chained up the same way on the opposite side of the room.

"There was a girl who fell. I took her and healed her, but if she moved too much, the stitches would tear," Lincoln tried to explain.

Snow raised an eyebrow, "So you chained her up? Seriously?"

"And then they came in and we're going to kill you potentially, so I fought back and happened to stab one of them," Lincoln finished, "I don't remember if the blade had nightshade on it or not."

"Oh, great job," Snow let the agitation creep into her voice.

Someone with curly black hair and brown eyes punched her hard in the jaw, "Stop talking."

"And yet he has no clue whether or not we understand him," Snow smirked.

"I said quiet!" The boy punched her again.

Lincoln glared at her, "Shof op." Shut up.

"Where's the fun in that?" Snow laughed as they punched her again, "His punch is weak."

"My oh my," the boy said, "If you're feeling so chatty, why don't you tell us about the grounders. Defenses? Strategies?"

Lincoln started at her, "Don't talk-"