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Chapter Text

"I think we deserve a drink,” Bellamy reasoned with a proud smirk on his face as they followed begins the battle-weary and newly rescued members of Skaikru filing into camp.

Clarke stopped in her tracks, she'd been hoping to delay this for a few more peaceful moments, but, it seemed the time had come. Shed already made up her mind and refused to take another step towards the place she'd come to call home.

“Have one for me," she requested with a sad smile.

The brunette boy turned to face her fully, confusion on his face but disbelief clear in his eyes. He knew what she was really saying.  

"Hey, we can get through this," he tried to reason.

Clarke shook her head as he stepped closer, "I'm not going in."

"Clarke,” he pleaded, “if you need forgiveness, I'll give that to you."

When her blue eyes, now shining with unused tears, met his, he continued, "You're forgiven."

The blonde couldn't help a glance over his shoulder, her eyes searching the faces of the people she'd saved, those she'd killed for. Bellamy’s forgiveness wasn't what she needed.

"Please. Come inside," he said again.

"Take care of them for me." Her second request.

"Clarke-" He began.

"Seeing their faces every day,” She choked out, “is just gonna remind me of what I did to get them here."

"What we did," Bellamy argued, tears beginning to make an appearance in his own eyes. The realization that he had already lost the girl in front of him quickly setting in, “You don’t have to do this alone.”

Clarke once again turned to search the faces of the rescued. She saw her friends, some injured and starving, hugging and celebrating together. She saw her own mother, lying on a makeshift gurney waiting for medical treatment as Kane leaned worriedly over her.

A lump formed in her throat at the sight of them. Turning back to her friend, the truth that yes, she did have to do it alone carving a void into her chest.

"I bear it, so they don't have to."

In a last-ditch effort to force Clarke to see reason, with his heart breaking to pieces in his chest, Bellamy asked, "Where are you gonna go?"

Clarke thought for a moment about lying to ease his mind, but ultimately decided that after everything they’d been through, Bellamy deserved the truth, "I don't know."

She stepped forward after a silent moment spent memorizing his face and softly pressed her lips to his cheek, refusing to let a few tears slip free while he couldn’t see her face.

"May we meet again," She whispered in his ear.

He pulled her into a sudden, bone-crushingly tight hug and they held each other for a few long seconds, her face buried into his shoulder as tears finally managed to escape down her cheeks.

Bellamy eventually stepped back and held her at arm's length, “May we meet again, princess.”

She nodded once and managed a watery smile as she stepped out of his hold and turned back towards the woods they’d come from, beginning her journey without a backward glance. If she took another moment to look at everything she was leaving behind, her resolve would crumble and she wouldn’t go through with this. She couldn’t afford that.

She felt his eyes on her back the entire trek through the open field and the beginning of the trees.

Once she was a few feet into the forest, Clarke took off in a sprint, not knowing, nor caring, what direction she planned to head in. The tears she’d been holding inside finally burst free and fell steadily down her face as her legs carried her further away.

She stopped only once, quickly peeling off her clothes at a small river and scrubbing the dry blood from her skin until she was pink and raw. After, she pulled her clothes back on and continued in the direction of the setting sun, using nothing but it’s faint rays to guide her through.

Cresting a large hill, she broke free of a dense patch of branches that snagged at her clothes and cut at her face and arms. Her momentum proved to be her downfall as her boot caught under a gnarled root and she rolled freely down the other side of the steep slope. The natural landslide created by the mud of recent rains threw her against sticks and rocks, but she couldn’t feel the sharp pain.

The sun disappeared and the stars rose as she continued onward, following the Orion constellation wherever it may lead her. The darkness brought with it a sense of home for the blonde, who had grown up in the blackness of space. The dark was comfortable, familiar. But even that had ultimately been ripped away from her.

The only sounds that accompanied Clarke’s steps were the snapping of branches beneath her heavy boots and the gasps of her breath in between cries. She had to stop and lean against a nearby tree when the sobs grew to overwhelming, attempting to fill her lungs. A primal scream of anguish tore it’s way out of her chest as she braced herself against the rough bark.

Her knees buckled and she sunk to the ground, curling into a ball as she finally allowed herself to be swallowed by her grief, the most broken she had ever been, rocking back and forth slowly on the damp forest floor.

The next thing she registered was the weight of a body tackling her to the ground and the cold metal of a blade at her throat.

“Chon yu bilaik?” sneered a girl no older than twenty or so, menace in her voice and expression.

Clarke’s eyes widened, her mind catching up to the situation, “Klark,” she answered in a choked mumble, clearing her throat and trying again, “Ai laik Klark kom Skaikru.”

Realization flashed across the girl’s features and she quickly got up and helped Clarke off the ground, “My apologies, Wanheda.”

Clarke simply stared back, “What did you just say?”

The girl began leading her towards a light in the distance that Clarke hadn’t noticed prior to their misunderstanding.

“You are Wanheda. You slew the Mountain Men, did you not? The Commander of Death. It is a title holding much honor.”

Clarke only managed to nod in understanding as she held back a flinch. Pain tearing through her heart as screams filled her ears. The girl’s voice brought her back to the present as they reached a small, homely building.

“Ai laik Niylah kom Trikru. My father and mother were both taken by the mountain. Thanks to you, Wanheda, I got one of them back. This is the trading post that he and I own on the edge of Azgeda territory. You are welcome here any time.”

Surprised and touched by such kindness, Clarke put a hand on Niylah’s shoulder, “Mochof, Niylah kom Trikru.”

Niylah nodded and motioned for Clarke to follow her inside the trading post, leading her down a hallway and into a room at the back of the house. She left for a moment, telling Clarke she was free to look around and returned was a thick blanket and some slightly worn leather armor in her arms.

“I thought you may need these.”

Clarke managed to send a smile her way, once again grateful to have stumbled into the girl, “Mochof, again, Niylah. But, I have nothing to give you in return.”

She waved a dismissing hand, “No need for a trade. Consider these gifts in thanks on behalf of my father.”

Clarke and Niylah stayed awake together that night, sitting closely on the grounder’s bed and sharing stories. Clarke told her about the fall of the mountain and soon spilled how and why she left her people behind. Niylah, in turn, told her about growing up on the ground, the joy of her father’s return, and finally, offered Clarke a place to stay with her.

Clarke had to refuse, though Niylah understood her reasons, and insisted on teaching her a few basic survival skills and giving her a backpack with simple supplies she may come to need. Clarke picked up some Trigedasleng quickly and Niylah was impressed at her quick wit.

As the sun began to rise, Niylah wished her luck in her journey, slightly sad to see her go, but managed to strike a deal so Clarke would come back and check in once every few weeks so she could gather more supplies.

They said their goodbye and parted ways, Clarke able to feel Niylah’s warm hand on her arm long after she’d left the trading post.

The sun slowly ascended over the horizon and Clarke paused after a few hours of walking when she passed a few bushes of berries. She knew from Niylah’s teachings that she should not eat the fruit, but knew it would be great for something else she needed to do.

Whether her people sent scouts to bring her back or one of the twelve grounder clans wanted her head, it didn’t matter. Clarke needed to change her identity. She wasn’t going to be found unless she wanted to be, and she certainly didn’t plan on it. That didn’t mean, however, that she would never make a mistake leading to her discovery.

It was time to embrace what she had so clearly become.

Clarke was dead. She died in the mountain alongside everyone else murdered in cold blood.

She was Wanheda, as Niylah had explained. The Commander of Death.

Using handfuls of the dark berries and a small bowl Niylah had placed in her pack, she set to changing her hair from its natural blonde to a dark, bloody red.

Chapter Text

The first week or so alone was the worst for Clarke.

The luscious forest that once seemed magical and inviting now just sent chills up her spine. The frigid bite of the night air chilled her to the bone when she refused to stop moving and the trees rushed by her.

Those same trees, the ones that had sheltered her and the other original hundred with their canopies of thick green leaves, were now just jagged and dark shapes in the night, their branches sharp and rough as they clawed against her fragile skin.

The ground beneath her feet was muddy from copious rains, the moisture seeping into her boots and socks to keep her shivering long after the storm had traveled through.

Clarke hadn't left with a destination in mind. The only place she really wanted to go was away. Her only light source during the nights were the moon and stars, most of their faint light hidden by the treetops, leaving her stumbling over things she couldn't see.

Her only companions were the dead. The souls of those she had killed traveling alongside her as she trekked on, each step agonizing to take under their penetrating stares and somber expressions.

She hadn't eaten. They wouldn't let her.

If she tried to sleep, they would scream. It was then that her self-imposed exile was the most unbearable. She couldn't handle the sound of their screaming. It broke her down to a shell of the fighter she'd come to be.

The victims in Mount Weather followed her in the mornings, their skin red and black with blood and blisters, their eyes lifeless and mouths hanging open in silent screams of agony that she would only hear again in her haunting nightmares. It made her thankful they refused to let her rest.

Wells appeared when the sun hit its peak, his neck open and bleeding, though the weapon that had caused the offense was nowhere to be found. Unlike the blonde's visitors before him, he often spoke to her. He loved to tell her how angry he was that she believed he'd turned her dad in to be executed, that she didn't realize that Charlotte would want him dead. He wouldn't be dead if she had. He hated her the most for protecting the girl after she murdered him.

Finn fell into step beside her at sundown, his eyes and smile tired and her make-shift knife sticking out of his chest. He would talk to her softly like he always used to, but only to list her many, many mistakes. He informed her that he'd known about the knife Raven had given her to kill Lexa. He was furious that she'd used it to kill him instead. His favorite thing to remind her of was the fact that she'd broken his heart and taken his life on the same day.

When night had fallen and the Earth was as dark as the sky she'd grown up in, her father would sit beside her in whatever camp she'd made for the night and chip away at her stoic mask until she crumbled into a broken little girl. It was her fault that he was dead. Sure, she'd tried to convince him not to go public with his information on the Ark's failing systems, but clearly, she hadn't done enough to save him. If she'd tried harder, done something else, he would be alive.

He was always the one who succeeded in cutting Clarke the deepest.

Her only sleep came when her exhausted body completely shut down. Her mind, however, continued its torment even through her scattered rest periods. It was in a panic after a particularly scarring nightmare that she ran through the forest under the new moon, no light present to guide her steps, and tripped over a fallen tree, tumbling down a large hill and coming to a painful stop. She did not get back up.

Instead, she dragged her aching body to lean against the rough bark of a nearby oak tree. It was there, surrounded by complete darkness and soaked through with icy water and mud, that Clarke finally snapped for the first time since leaving Camp Jaha and her people behind.

She cried out her torment, feeling like her brain was being torn apart inside her head and screaming with a raw, primal pain that she'd never experienced before. She gripped her knees with white knuckles to keep her trembling body together when it seemed all she could do was break into thousands of tiny pieces. The world disappeared around her and the dead began to scream every wrong action she'd ever taken.

It seemed as though the only plausible thing for Clarke to do was give in to the torture, torture strong enough to shatter who she was and change her beyond recognition.

She collapsed to the ground as if there was too much raw pain inside her to be contained in such a small vessel. She cried like her spirit needed to break loose from her skin and her body was desperate to release its elemental rage on the world.

She was beyond all reason, beyond all natural methods of calming.

The ghosts surrounding her wanted her dead.

And Clarke wanted to die.

It was in the midst of one of her many episodes that Clarke found herself once again sprinting through the trees, running away from something that she couldn't quite name, but that terrified her nonetheless. Her feet kissed the earth beneath her with each frantic step as her arms bat at the branches reaching out to scratch her face, hitting and marking up her arms instead.

She broke through the trees suddenly and was thrust into an open field. And there it was, its metal walls reaching towards the sky like a skeleton's hand.

The Dropship.

However, where they'd left behind a place covered in ash and bones now stood a soft meadow of green grass and delicate purple flowers. It's beautiful in a twisted way, Clarke thought to herself, how the site of such a gruesome tragedy can heal and become new again.  

She impulsively took off her boots and crossed to the center of the field, completely forgetting the phantoms around her. She felt the damp earth beneath the soles her feet and the cool grass in between her toes. She closed her eyes and breathed in the crisp morning air as the sun shone down on her face. For the first time, Clarke felt peace.  

After a few minutes, Clarke noticed the others around her, those she'd known in life and those she'd never get to meet. They too were sitting among the flowers, quietly observing their surroundings with calm expressions. They find peace here too, she realized. 

At that moment, Clarke made a decision. She may not be able to bring these souls back to life, but she could offer them honor and peace in death. If she gave them a proper and respectful burial place, then they could have their own meadow of flowers to enjoy.

She stood, confident in her new plan, and began to gather handfuls of the beautiful purple plants, placing them gently in her backpack before she began to venture towards the site of the massacre.

Her massacre.

Chapter Text

Clarke placed one foot in front of the other, beginning her trek to Mount Weather with a heavy heart and new-found resolve. The closer she got, the more her conviction wavered, however. She knew she wasn't ready to see the extent of destruction she'd so easily caused.

She spent three days a few miles inside the treeline, building up the nerve to follow through on her promise before she convinced herself and her determination returned in full.

No more running. No more hiding.

She hiked the rest of the way to the base of the mountain, breaking through the last of the trees and stepping forward into the field where the battle had occurred only a few weeks prior.

She sunk to her knees at the sight, all the air leaving her lungs.

The sounds of swords clashing and rapid gunfire had long been replaced by an eerie silence, and the sunset that had illuminated the war was gone, replaced by the sunrise glinting off the fallen weapons of the dead.

There were bodies everywhere. The land was no longer a battlefield but was a graveyard for the slaughtered and unburied, Grounders, Skaikru, and Mountain Men lying equal in death.

Tears stung in her eyes, but Clarke held them back. The only thought filling her mind was that she was responsible for this. It was her own doing that led these people to their deaths.

Taking a moment to push that far from her mind, Clarke steeled herself with a deep breath, clearing her face of any emotion and setting to work.

She dropped her backpack and pulled her outer jacket from her shoulders, dropping that beside it. Opening the largest pocket, she tore her only spare shirt apart to make a mask to cover her nose and mouth. In a smaller pocket, she found a needle and thin wire. It wasn't thread, but it would do.

She made her way to each body in the field, stitching their major wounds and using water and the remaining scraps of her shirt to wash their faces and hands free of the blood that clung to their skin.

She forced her hands to be steady and compartmentalized the dead into groups of five at a time, her mind on autopilot as she worked.

Stitch the wounds, clean the blood, dig the graves. Stitch the wounds, clean the blood, dig the graves. Stitch the wounds, clean the blood, dig the graves.

Each grave was dug carefully by hand before Clarke gently laid the body inside and placed a purple flower on each person's chest. She closed their eyes with her trembling fingers before covering them with dirt.

She continued to work five at a time until her body gave out from exhaustion. When she opened her eyes sometime the next day, she stood and began with the next five.

It took her nearly four days to tend to those slain outside the mountain and place them in their final resting places. Then, she walked slowly down each covered row and shed a few tears for each soul lost.

When she was finished, she retreated back into the woods and allowed herself one day to rest. For once, the ghosts that accompanied her didn't scream when she closed her eyes to sleep.

Half of the following day was spent collecting large logs and dragging them into the clearing. She used those logs to build simple pyres and arranged the dead grounder's bodies atop them.

Using supplies from her pack, Clarke managed to create a burning torch and set the pyres ablaze, offering the words, "Yu gonplei ste odon," as she went.

They deserved the warrior's death that their people would have given them, so that's what she delivered. She sat quietly and watched as they all burned to piles of ash. The flames danced in front of her for hours, reaching out hungrily for anything to consume. The warrior's funeral burned hot, painful, and brilliant in the day's setting sun.

It had taken her six days to clear the battlefield.

Turning back once again to the shelter of the trees, Clarke allowed herself another day to rest.

Clarke woke the next morning resigned, the knowledge that the day would lead her back inside the mountain already pressing down on her chest. 

Pushing past the thick, metal door, she wandered the empty hallways. The death and decay that consumed the place cutting through her clothes and clinging to her skin. With her mask tied tightly in place, she stepped into the main room, the room where she'd found Jasper desperately clinging to Maya, a girl that had done nothing but help them and been slaughtered anyway.

A deep sorrow tore through her body and settled deep in her bones as she took count of the dead, no way to heal their ghastly wounds or clean the blood caked onto their skin.

She carried them out one by one, digging their graves and lying them inside. She used her fingers to gently comb through their hair, working out the tangled knots matted down with dried blood. She placed a flower on their chest and covered them with dirt.

It took over two days to clear the floor of mangled, disfigured bodies.

When blue eyes opened once more, the forest around her refused to remain in focus. It briefly crossed her mind that she hadn't eaten in weeks. Her clothes were beginning to hand from her thin frame and signs of dehydration and starvation were clear. 

Of course, the constant feeling of hunger and thirst had become present about a week and a half ago, but Clarke had pushed them aside, her mission at Mount Weather consuming her entire being. Her need to finish what she'd started overpowering even her most basic instincts.

As she sat up and the world spun, Clarke realized that if she failed to eat soon, she would die. This thought, however, though grim, did not frighten her. Still, she used the support of a nearby sapling to pull herself upright. When her vision cleared enough that she could make out a path through the fuzzy vegetation, she grabbed her sword and took off.

She spent all day hunting in the heat but found nothing to sate her stomach.

Sunset was quickly approaching and Clarke made a small camp by a running stream. She washed her hands and face with the frigid water after starting a fire. After several hours of effort, she managed to catch two fish and spent the rest of the evening cooking them over the flames and devouring her first meal in seemingly forever. When she smothered the dying embers and laid back to observe the stars, she fell into a peaceful sleep without her stomach crying out.

Clarke's final day at Mount Weather was spent burying the seventy-eight children. She dug their graves smaller than the others outside the looming structure of the mountain and carried each fragile body out, trying to ignore how much lighter they were than the adults.

Each grave was filled slowly and each young face covered felt like another knife in her already battered heart. By the time she was done, she felt like she could barely breathe.

She swept through each room one final time to ensure that no one had been missed and then she stepped out of the mountain for the final time, sealing the thick door behind her and vowing to never let it be opened again.

Many of the souls that had been haunting her laid down in their graves and closed their eyes with peaceful smiles, entering their eternal rest. Clarke felt some of the tremendous weight on her shoulders lift. She had done something to lessen the tragedy of this place.

Grief, however, still crushed her simultaneously, that destroyed her soul and refused to allow her lungs oxygen. It was the type of emotion that was heavy and silent.

Which makes it all the more deadly, Clarke thought.

As she sat, leaning against a tree, and looked out at the sea of fresh graves, she was hit with another wave of peace. The dead were resting, and she had done her job.  

It began to rain softly, and Clarke turned her face to the sky. The water droplets burst against her face, mixing with the gentle tears flowing from her eyes. It was cool, not icy like it would be in the winter months, but lacking the warmth of summer showers. The rain was watering the Earth's newest garden and the thought made her smile ever so slightly.

With one last glance to the fallen, Clarke stood and turned her back, ready to leave the place forever. The sun was once again falling, kissing the tops of the trees with its burnt orange hue, and Clarke imagined the field behind her covered in soft grass and purple flowers. 

"May we meet again," she whispered, beginning her journey back towards the Trikru-Azgeda border.

She knew Niylah would be furious with her for not checking in for nearly a month, but thoughts of the other girl made Clarke smile. As she stepped over fallen branches and deep puddles, the rain continued to fall in sheets. It washed away the sweat and dirt on her skin and clothes, the droplets clinging to her hair and eyelashes and running off her nose and chin.  

She stopped only once to hunt, successfully killing a deer. She couldn't even watch as it fell to the ground. She walked all through the rest of the evening and into the night reaching the trading post as the moon was at it's highest peak.

She stepped inside the warm, dry building, her hair dripping it's red hue and dragging her kill behind her. Niylah looked up from behind one of the tables and met Clarke's gaze, eyes widening at her appearance.

"Mounin houm, Wanheda," she smiled.

Chapter Text

"Don't make me do this." Clarke rasped into the radio.

She was standing in the control room in Mt. Weather and as she watched her friends and mother being harvested for bone marrow, she knew she was running out of time. The barrel of her pistol was currently pointed directly at the chest of the Mountain Men's leader, Dante. Clarke was really hoping she wasn't going to have to add his blood to her hands, especially after he had helped her.

There was a pause on the radio and Clarke started to get worried that her plan wouldn't work. Then, a shaky voice came through, "Dad?" They turned to the camera and saw Cage with the radio, "I promise I'll take care of our people."

Dante turned to Clarke with wide eyes, realizing his son was condemning him to death. He shook his head, hoping to reason with the blonde, "None of us has a choice here, Clarke."

Clarke shook her head to ward off the building tears, furrowing her brow and licking her lips before speaking honestly, "I didn't want this."

"Neither did I-" He tried.

She fired a round into his chest, cutting him off. Clarke lowered her weapon and watched as the older man struggled. It was slowly becoming harder for her to breathe as she watched the red stain on the front of his shirt grow bigger with each moment. Her eyes watered further when she watched him hit the floor, another body to add to her death count.

She looked up and saw her friends looking at her like a monster. Maybe she was one.

She wiped every emotion off her face and spoke again into the radio, steeling her voice and giving in to the monster they all thought she was, "Listen to me very carefully. I will not stop until my people are free. If you don't let them go, I will irradiate level five."

When she received no immediate response she tried again, softer this time, "Cage, listen to me. I don't want anyone else to die. Stop the drilling and we can talk. There must be a way to get us all out of this."

As they studied him on the monitors, they saw Emerson coming for them in another camera. She put Monty in charge of changing the locks on the door and turned back in time to see Cage leaving from view.

"Where's he going?" Bellamy asked.

The realization hit Clarke like a truck, "The dorm." All of her friends were there. She stopped thinking rationally, "Monty, can you do it? Can you irradiate the level?"

He turned to her, his eyes wide with fear at the mere suggestion, but admitted, "I can do it."

Bellamy stepped in, "Wait for a second, Clarke. We need to think about this. There are kids in there."

"I know," Clarke whispered in a thick voice.

He continued to plead, "People who helped us."

Clarke was ready to beg, "Please, give me a better idea."

When he didn't respond she turned back to the monitors. Cage had grabbed Abby and strapped her onto the drilling table.

Clarke watched with a horrified expression, "What have I done?"

She was forced to watch as they drilled into her mother for bone marrow. Her decision had never been easier than in that moment and Bellamy could see it in her eyes, "Clarke, if we do this there is no going back!"

She couldn't be swayed. She turned to Monty and nodded, "Figure it out."

The moments of watching her mother's torture were agonizing and slow. She tore her eyes from the screen when she heard Bellamy whisper, "No."

She turned to see what he was looking at and saw Octavia, running down the hallway and then taking out two guards with her sword. Clarke frowned, that wasn't part of the plan.

Everything seemed to happen very quickly after that.

Emerson was trying to kick down the door. Jasper was caught and brought in for drilling, displayed on one of the screens. Clarke couldn't tell if her mom was moving anymore. Octavia was cornered in the dining room, surrounded by armed guards. Monty stopped typing.

Clarke looked at him, furious. "Why are you stopping?"

He turned to meet her gaze with a resigned look of his own, "Because I did it. All we have to do is pull this," he said pointing to a lever. "Hatches and vents will open, and the scrubbers reverse, pulling in outside air."

Everything stood still.

Bellamy raised his gun to the door, "Emerson's going to blow the door."

Monty tried to keep her focus, "Clarke we're out of time!"

She placed her hand on the lever, feeling the metal in her grip. Her decision was made, but she couldn't bring herself to actually pull it down, to kill all these people. She watched the screens as everyone she cared about was rounded up by the guards and had a gun trained on them.

Her voice broke when she whispered, "I have to save them."

She felt a hand over hers and looked to see Bellamy, "Together."

She nodded and looked down at their hands. They pulled the lever.

Blood.

Bodies, mangled and broken, dropping like flies.

Jasper, cradling his newly-found love in his arms as she died slowly, painfully. Maya never dropping his gaze as the life left her eyes.

Men and women, slumped over at the dinner table, blisters covering their skin.

Children lying face down on the ground, their soccer balls and toys abandoned as they died.

A sea of pain and destruction, all caused by her hand alone. Clarke walked around the giant room, forcing herself to witness what she had done.

She found Jasper, Maya lifeless in his arms. He screamed in animalistic rage, "What did you do?"

Clarke fell to her knees brokenly amid the carnage. "I had no choice."

Clarke's own screams woke her from her nightmare. Her cheeks were damp with falling tears and her body was covered in a sheen layer of sweat. The furs were twisted around her body, tangled with her limbs from thrashing around so violently.

She sat up, one hand clutching the furs to her chest and the other clawing at her pounding heart. Clarke's whole body trembled in the darkness of the room. The remnants of her nightmare still clung to the edges of her mind, though they never really left her completely anyway, so that wasn't anything new.

She turned and saw the pale skin of Niylah's bare back resting next to her in the lavish bed. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, guilt washing through her veins as she recalled their night together. She shouldn't have gone to Niylah for comfort, she'd known it was wrong, knew that Niylah had actual feelings of affection for her, and yet...she had allowed it to happen anyway.

In truth, Clarke had missed physical contact with another human. For about a month now, she hadn't had someone to hold and comfort her, someone to worship and cherish her body.

And when Niylah had helped redye the red into Clarke's hair, she hadn't pushed her away when she felt Niylah's lips on her shoulder, on her neck, on her lips. She hadn't pushed her away, had enjoyed it actually, when they had fallen onto the bed, Niylah's tongue and teeth leaving marks down her body.

Now, pulling on her clothes as quickly as possible without making a sound, Clarke felt the shame rip through her chest. She didn't regret what they had done, not at all, but she wished she was been able to return the feelings that Niylah expressed. She deserved someone who was going to love her in return.

And Clarke just couldn't.

Not when there was a certain pair of green eyes that haunted her.

Not when she couldn't love herself.

Clarke stood and kissed Niylah's forehead, "Bosh Moba, Niylah. Ai nou bilaik hod yu in. Nou enimou. Ai na noumou laksen yu."

Clarke stood and went to the front of the trading post, gathering her supplies. Double checking she had everything, she turned and walked out into the night air. She looked up at the stars and released a few tears and a shuddering breath for the sweet girl that she had to leave behind.

With one final glance at the small building, she turned and trekked back into the trees, unsure when, or if, she would ever return again.

Chapter Text

The celebration of the fall of the mountain had lasted a week, a festival filled with joy unlike any she had ever seen. Their most fearsome enemy, fallen. They could travel the woods without worry of being captured, their people would no longer be turned into Reapers.

But at what cost?

Lexa was haunted with the look of utter betrayal that passed on Clarke's face, hours after they had kissed and made the promise of a someday. Blue eyes so hurt and disappointed, they plagued her sleep, watched her every move from the corners of Lexa's mind.

She had sent a team of warriors to assist the Sky People after she had made sure all of her people were a safe distance away. What she did not expect was them to return a short time later saying that the mountain had already fallen, everyone inside dead and left where they stood. She did not expect to hear that no one was there, they had left everything inside and moved back to their camp.

It was two weeks later that she sent out more scouting teams. One to go to their camp and to offer aid in any way they could and one to explore the mountain further. She sent one man specifically to give her reports on a certain blonde. Lexa had to know if she was alive.

Her teams had returned this morning.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Lexa sat rigidly on her throne in Polis. Her teams of warriors and healers stepped forward and kneeled in submission as she stood.

"Rise."

They stood and lined up in front of her.

"What do you have to report."

A healer stepped forward, "They would not allow us to help them. We were forced back into the tree line under threats of being killed. In their minds, the alliance is broken and void."

Lexa nodded, she had expected something like this. "And what of Kl-?"

She was cut off by Indra throwing the doors open and storming into the room.

"Indra. What is the meaning of this!"

Indra bowed her head. "Heda. Skaikru came storming into TonDc with guns, demanding we give them back Klark kom Skaikru."

Lexa turned to her general. "Is this true with what you observed?"

He stepped forward. "Sha, Heda. I approached the gate, asking specifically for her. They told me she was not there. They thought we had captured her."

Lexa narrowed her gaze at the man, "They do not know where she is?"

"No, Heda."

Lexa breathed deeply for a few moments, trying to quell the worry bubbling in her chest.

Turning back to Indra she asked, "What did you do with the Skaikru in TonDC."

"They have been captured and ate being held there"

Lexa nodded. "You will release Skaikru and send them back to their camp. Tell them we do not have Clarke. Tell them I do, however, intend to find her."

Indra nodded and left the room.

She turned to her last team, "What are your reports of the Mountain?"

"Heda, it is unlike anything I have ever seen. The Mountain is not as it was after the battle. There are graves. One for each man slain. And piles of ashes, I believe, from our fallen brothers. Someone went back."

Clarke had gone back.

Something happened in that Mountain that changed Clarke forever. She left her people and went back to try and fix what she did.

She turned to her warrior, "Thank you. Go and rest. Tomorrow you will escort me to the Mountain."

He nodded and they all left, leaving her with her thoughts.

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They left when the sun had barely risen in the sky. The ride to the Mountain was spent in silence. Lexa was preparing herself for what she was about to see. She didn't know what to expect.

But when she surveyed the scene in front of her, she knew without a shadow of a doubt, that Clarke had been here.

Rows upon rows of freshly dug graves covered the once battlefield. Each had purple flower petals on top, a final farewell and a sign for the Earth to take back what was hers. She paused at the piles of ashes, also with petals, and silently thanked Clarke for respecting her warriors.

She wanted to cry when she saw the graves of the children, smaller than the rest, and her heart ached for Clarke. She knew that the blonde had tortured herself with this task. That she had taken all the blame onto her shoulders even though that is not where it belonged.

She glanced at the door, sealed with the flower symbol. She knew it was meant to keep people from ever opening the doors again, and hoped all would respect what Clarke had done here. Lexa knew that if she were to walk the hallways of the Mountain she would find no sign of carnage, just empty, haunted rooms.

She blinked back tears as she thought of Clarke, running away from her people, the weight too heavy to bear and yet trying to bear it anyways.

She was a true leader, but she should not have had to be. She was younger than Lexa had been when she ascended and Clarke had no training.

The girl was thrown into the leadership role and it was going to crush her.

She thanked her warrior for bringing her and they rode back to Polis swiftly. She ordered two teams to go and search for Clarke. One would report back when they found her and the other would stay with her, at a distance, and help keep her alive. Lexa would join them when she heard news of their location.

It was three weeks later that she received any news.

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Penn rushed into the throne room in the middle of her meeting with the ambassadors.

What is the meaning of this, Penn!"

She shouted, irritated with the interruption.

The young boy was out of breath and barely managed to choke out, "Heda, we found her."

Chapter Text

Clarke vaguely remembered the layout of the 12 clans from the maps in the Commander's tent. She had originally planned to stay on the edge of Azgeda territory, her plan now amended slightly to stay far away from Niylah's, but Azgeda was huge so that wasn't really a problem.

She hoped neither her people... were they still her people?

She wasn't sure.

She hoped that neither Skaikru nor the grounders would think to look for or to find her there.

But she had gotten hungry, and the river was too cold. She didn't have the supplies or the knowledge to make a net, so walking into its icy waters was her only option for fishing.

So, she decided to pack up her things from the cave she had been staying in, and move south, only until she had something to fill her belly.

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A panther. A gracious and deadly animal.

Clarke wasn't sure if she had found it or if it had found her. All she knew is that her stomach had gone far too long without being full. She climbed a nearby tree, using her last scraps of energy to secure her meal. She walked out onto the branch directly over the beast. She had taught herself to move as another part of the forest, and it was clearly working, for the beautiful cat never looked up.

She pulled the knife she had from its sheath on her thigh. The cool metal against her hand gave her comfort. She had disposed of her gun long ago...buried it, actually. She refused to ever touch one again.

If that ended up killing her, then so be it.

She waited a few more moments, holding her breath and crouching, ready for the perfect moment.

One step...two...there.

She jumped onto the panther's back, driving her knife between its shoulder blades.

The large cat managed to throw her off, and thankfully her blade came away in her hand. She rolled and came up in a crouch, baring her teeth and watching as it stalked her. The large cat sprang forward and she moved to stab it in the neck, but the panther was faster than she had anticipated.

Her knife met ribs and its claws met her shoulder as they flipped. She cried out in pain and shock and managed to push the beast off of her and get to her feet as they once again began their deadly dance.

She was defenseless, her only weapon hanging out of her dinner's side. The logical thing to do was give up, but she was driven mad by hunger, and when the panther growled and bared its teeth at her, she did the same, neither willing to submit.

This time, Clarke sprang first, knocking the creature down beneath her, going for her knife with one hand while the other arm pressed against the panther's neck, keeping its fangs away as it snapped at her. She felt its claws once again dig into her back, and her strength wavered as pain tore through her. The beast knocked her over and took another swipe at her, catching her ribs, before she plunged her knife into the panther's neck, ending their struggle.

It didn't go all the way in like it needed to and Clarke didn't want it to suffer needlessly.

It truly was a beautiful animal and as she sat and caught her breath she offered a tired and weak, "Yu gonplei ste odon. Mochof, ai bro, hashta yu givnes."

Then she dug the knife all the way in.

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Her body was on fire and screamed in protest as Clarke dragged her kill behind her. She knew she wouldn't be able to make it back to her previous home and she desperately hoped to find a new cave, or even a small outcropping, to spend the night. Her feet were dragging, her eyelids were drooping, Clarke could feel her body giving up.

And then she heard them.

Footsteps. Voices.

Someone had found her.

She wanted to cry as she was forced to drop her first food in weeks and hide. She climbed a nearby tree and watched as a small group entered her vision a few minutes later. They surrounded her kill and she strained to hear their conversation.

"Os fragon."mOne man said, observing the slain panther.

"Won em din gon raun." Replied another, his voice deeper, as he scanned the area.

"Dig em au." A third voice ordered, this one feminine.

Thankfully, she did not recognize any of them. Clarke shimmied down the opposite side of the tree trunk, ready to disappear again. In her haste, she landed too hard, a branch snapping harshly under her boot. The three warriors had to have spotted her, but she didn't waste time to check.

She ran.

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Clarke's feet hit the ground quickly, one after the other, but she made no sound. They were hunting her. They had been for days now. Each night she would slip away when they were all sleeping, and yet each day they managed to find her again.

Grounders.

She knew if she really looked she could probably identify which clan...she didn't want to get that close.

She figured out that they at least had orders not to harm her. They always stayed close, but they never pounced, never interacted. It seemed as though they were herding her, pushing her towards something. It put her extremely on edge.

And so she continued to run.

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It was nighttime when Lexa reached her team a few days later.

Clarke had traveled into the outermost edges of Azgeda. They were seated around a large fire, but stood as she entered the clearing and dismounted her horse.

"Where is she?"

He warriors stood and one motioned vaguely to the trees, "She is not far."

The Commander narrowed her gaze, "And why are you not closer to her?"

He laughed, "We were. She runs at night. Uses the trees to gain distance. We find her again each day. She can't travel very much anymore. We'll have her easily in the morning."

"Any why is that?" Lexa snapped.

He quit laughing, "Heda. Wanheda is weak. Bleeding. Starving. She is no threat to anyone."

The Commander's anger grows, "She bleeds. Yet you were under strict orders by me not to harm her."

The man flinches at her tone and she inwardly smirks. "Sha, Heda. We did not harm her. We found her after she had slain a panther. It must have torn into her as well."

Lexa wants to flinch. Clarke had been hurt and losing blood for at least a week.

She takes a deep breath to calm herself, "Very well. We will not wait for morning. Take me to her. Now."

Chapter Text

Clarke had been saving her strength for the past few days, only traveling a mile or so during the nights. They believed her to be weak, an easy target.

They were wrong.

Clarke's time in isolation had hardened her. She hadn't spoken a word of English in months, all her food was caught by her own hand, and every mile she had covered only added to her resolve. She wasn't positive how long she had been in the woods, but her guess was at least three months. She hadn't interacted with another human since Niylah, and that felt like ages ago.

She waited until they were all sitting around their fire, then she slipped away. They expected her to be close, too weak to travel far. She used that knowledge to slip away entirely.

She kept to the trees when she could, and made it back to where she had dropped her things to hunt the panther. She picked up her backpack, wincing at the added weight on her injuries. She kept to the ground after that, moving silently in the night.

She made it back to her cave as the first few rays of sunlight filtered through the trees. She dropped her things by her makeshift mattress. Her first order of business was dealing with her wounds. And that required a fire. She was pretty much an expert by now and had a blaze roaring in a few minutes.

Clarke stripped to her chest binding, groaning slightly when her shirt pulled from where it had stuck to her gashes. She placed her heavy coat and top by her bed and pulled a needle and thread from her supplies. She sat by the fire and stitched the slices in her shirt as she waited for her knife to heat in the flames.

She watched as the morning showers rained down and was once again thankful for her shelter.

She finished her shirt, folded it, and placed it with her other clothes. The only sounds were her boots on the stone floor, the crackle of the fire, and the light rains outside. Clarke smiled, this was the most peaceful she had felt in a while.

When the metal of her knife glowed orange, she took it and sat against the wall. Her hand was steady, her medical training kicking in. She took the leather sheath from her thigh and placed it between teeth. Breathing slowly in and out she closed her eyes and brought the knife to the first cut on her ribs.

There was a split second where she could hear the skin sizzle and felt nothing...but then she felt it all.

She bit into the leather, muffling the sound her torment. She dragged the blade across all three marks on her rib cage before opening her eyes and returning the knife to the fire. She sat at caught her breath, dreading the next round.

She was able to reach and cauterize three of the seven gashes on her back. One on her shoulder and three on her lower back remained open and angry, but she couldn't do anything about them.

Clarke pulled her shirt back on but left her jacket off. She sat watching the rain fall, remembering her first encounter with rain when the 100 first came down. She smiled as tears filled her eyes, and hugged her knees to her chest as she laughed bitterly, though it came out more like a sob.

They had been so young, innocent.

The ground changed everything.

It exposed them to pain and death and war. But the ground had also brought freedom and, in some cases, love. Clarke could hate herself for what she had become, but she realized that she could never truly hate Earth.

As the ran died down, so did her fire, and Clarke began to draw on the walls with ashes. She drew the trees and the water, the glowing butterflies and two-headed deer. Clarke drew her favorite memories of the ground.

It wasn't until she looked back at her work that she noticed the eyes. Eyes that were surrounded by dark swirls, but were the most gentle and loving she had ever seen. Eyes that would be a green shade so unique to itself, had she had color to capture it in.

Lexa's eyes.

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Lexa was furious. They had trekked all morning, and there was no sign of Clarke.

"I thought you said you knew where she was."

The warrior in question flinched, "It appears Wanheda was not as weak as I anticipated."

Lexa snapped, "You underestimated her. And you overestimated my patience."

Before he could process her words, Lexa drew her sword and slit his throat. Turning to the other two warriors she mounted her horse.

"I want her found. Be swift in tracking her. I will find you again in three days time."

With that, she turned and rode, determined to find Clarke first.

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If there was one thing that was going to force Clarke to lose her mind, it was the rain. What started as a light morning shower soon turned into two days of storms. She had no fire, the wood was soaked.

She had no food, she couldn't risk the rain washing the red dye from her hair as she hunted. The only sound was the thunder and the only real light was the lightning. Confined to her cave, she knew whoever found her would find her half-deranged.

As her mind deteriorated, her companions came back to her. They didn't yell at her anymore, in fact, they were all silent. They simply looked at her with pity.

Clarke wasn't sure which was worse.

She was sitting against the outer edge of the cave wall, withing reaching distance of the downpour, and yet still safe from its grasp.

She reached out slowly, feeling the cold rain pound against her flesh, the icy temperature making the droplets feel like needles against her skin. She turned, seeing the ghosts of her past still watching her with pity. She scoffed and turned back to the rain, she almost wished they would start screaming again. At least them she would have some sort of interaction to distract herself with.

Clarke realized she had absentmindedly begun drawing in the mud with her fingers. She lifted her fingers and rubbed them together, the mud cool and slick in between her hands. She looked once more between those she had killed and the mud on her fingers.

Clarke pushed herself off of the ground with a sigh. She thought about the Grounder's tradition of kill marks. Carrying a mark for each soul you had taken from life. She had originally wanted to burn marks into her skin like they did, but everything was wet, so there was no way to make any sort of fire.

When the rain ends, she vowed.

For now, she stripped once again down to her chest binding, leaving on her pants and boots. She pulled a small bowl from her supplies and filled it with thick, black mud. Clarke sat next to her mattress, the bowl beside her. Placing her right arm in her lap, wrist up, she dipped two fingers into the mud and started creating angry, black slashes for each person she had killed, counting them off in her head.

1. Dad

2. Atom

3. Tris

4. Finn

5. Dante

6. Maya

She was crying by the time her sixth mark hit her elbow. She was slightly nauseous as she began counting for the 300 warriors she had burned alive. The marks went up her right arm, across her chest, and down her left arm. Both arms were completely covered in tiny, dark tallies, as was her upper chest and shoulders.

Her whole body was trembling and Clarke leaned over to retch. The only thing coming up was some water from earlier and stomach acid. But she wasn't done.

Not even close.

And so she wiped her mouth and continued on, her tears never ceasing to flow down her cheeks. She began counting for those in TonDC and Mount Weather.

307...308...309...

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Two days had passed. Two days and Lexa had absolutely nothing to show for her efforts. The constant rain had washed away any tracks Clarke may have had if she hadn't found her by tonight, she was going to have to meet her warriors empty handed. She was traveling up a hill, urging her horse forward, though the black mud made it slippery.

In a last ditch effort, Lexa had taken to searching places that would have kept Clarke dry. Caves and outcroppings were all over the area, and Lexa knew Clarke was smart. Caves offered warmth, protection from the elements, and a place to come back to. A constant when everything else kept changing. Lexa knew Clarke like no one else did. She would bet her life on it. Clarke was in a cave somewhere.

When she finally reached the top of the hill, she noticed the cave there. It was very well hidden, and if she hadn't been looking for it, she wouldn't have seen it. She almost dismissed it as a possibility, but something was pulling her to it. It was only when she got closer that she heard it.

Above the rain and roaring winds, in between the crashes of thunder, very faintly, Lexa could hear the sobs and whimpers of a person in great pain.

Lexa dismounted and tied her horse to a tree quickly and rushed into the cave. Nothing could have prepared her for what she found.

Clarke was on the ground, curled into herself. Her hair, a wild and tangled mess of red and blonde, was matted down with sweat. Her entire upper body was covered in little black slashes which Lexa thought to be mud, she confirmed this as she glanced at the nearby bowl. Lexa's heart broke when she noticed Clarke wrapping her arms around herself as if trying to hold herself together.

As Lexa crossed to where Clarke was, she stripped of her weapons, not wanting to alarm the distressed girl. She fell to her knees and picked the other girl off of the ground, cradling Clarke in her arms as she had dreamed of doing for months now.

"Shh. Clarke. I'm here. You're safe now."

Clarke relaxed slightly in Lexa's arms, but she was still way too tense for Lexa's liking, so she threaded one of her hands in Clarke's hair, continuing to whisper words of comfort. Clarke stopped trembling when Lexa took the blanket from the small mattress and wrapping it tightly around both of them.

Clarke's hands fisted into the fabric of Lexa's shirt and Lexa noticed that she kept whispering one word over and over again, in between her sobs, like a sorrowful prayer, "Beja."

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Clarke gripped Lexa as close as she could, fearing when this image would fade, once again leaving her alone and cold and scared. She knew it was no use, but she prayed to whatever god was out there that Lexa was actually here, holding her, loving her. Clarke sobbed, wishing her mind would stop torturing her.

This was her most real hallucination yet.

Never before had her hallucinations touched her, spoken to her, and been warm. They always left her chilled to the bone, not warm and comfortable. So she continued to beg for this to be real, though she knew in her heart it wasn't.

"Beja."

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"Clarke," Lexa pleaded, "Clarke, tell me what's wrong."

It took a lot of begging and pleading, something Lexa wasn't used to doing, but finally, she coaxed the once blonde skai girl to choke out and answer.

"Ai gaf in disha laik fousen."

Lexa was a horrible mixture of shocked, confused, and heartbroken. The girl she loved believed this to be an image conjured up in her mind to torture her further. Lexa paled as she thought of what Clarke's forced self-isolation had done to her mind.

"Clarke. Clarke look at me. I'm here. I'm real, Clarke."

All she received was a distressed sob.

Chapter Text

Clarke was tired. Tired of fighting each day just to survive to see the next. Death, she had decided, was easy. Living was hard. And she was so tired.

Her body was broken and bleeding her heart had long grown cold and her mind was slipping more and more with each sunrise. The choice to take her own life was one she made easily, and it brought with it a wave of peace she had forgotten how to feel.

Her shaking ceased as did her tears. She moved calmly to the other side of the cave and sat, leaning against the wall and staring at the manifestations of her demons. Finn she was used to, her dad she was used to. Hell, she had even grown used to the occasional visits from Maya and Dante.

But why Lexa?

She opened her mouth and closed it a few times, trying to decide. In the end, she figured she might as well if she was going to end everything in the morning.

"Why are you here?"

There it was, her first English in however long she had been out there, and her first words in months. They came out cracked and raw and they were barely heard over the wind.

She watched confusion grow on Lexa's face but turned her gaze quickly to Finn, who had stood up, clapping slowly and sneering, "Well, look at that. The Princess is talking again."

Clarke growled and yelled, "Shof op!", over the sound of the storm.

He laughed, coming and crouching in front of her, causing her to flinch back against the wall. She grunted as the stone pressed harshly against her wounded back.

"You killed me Clarke, but that wasn't the plan."

He leaned down, his cold lips ghosting against her ear, his voice was anything but soft, "You weren't supposed to kill me. The knife was meant for her."

He stood, pointing to Lexa. Clarke ground out the thing she had been telling herself to make it stop hurting, "I didn't have a choice."

Finn screamed, slamming his into the wall beside her head.

His voice was filled with rage when he yelled, "WE ALL HAVE A CHOICE!"

Clarke shook her head, not wanting to believe him. If she did, that made her the bad guy. Made her the monster in the story.

Finn's voice lowered again, his tone that of a mad man when his trembling finger pointed at Clarke's chest, "My death? That's on you, Princess."

Clarke's lip trembled, "I'm sorry."

He laughed, walking out of the cave, "Sorry doesn't cut it, Princess."

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Lexa was extremely worried as she watched the scene play out in front of her. She had let Clarke go when she struggled free, thinking her episode was over. But as she watched Clarke flinch and cry out in reaction to a conversation she was having with someone who wasn't there, she realized how serious this was and knew she had to get Clarke out of there as soon as she was able.

For now, all Lexa could do was sit and listen as a broken girl fought with her inner demons.

Lexa had never heard Clarke sound as helpless as when she whispered, "I'm sorry." to someone that was gone.

Eventually, Clarke's haunted gaze stayed fixed on the ground and she spoke again.

Lexa could tell it pained Clarke to speak and she wondered when the last time she had used her voice had been, "Why are you here?"

"What do you mean Clarke? I'm here to help you."

Lexa didn't miss the way Clarke flinched at the sound of her own name. She realized the skai girl might be more comfortable speaking in Lexa's native tongue.

"Wanheda. Ai laik hir sis yu au." Clarke's head snapped up and she laughed a cold and bitter laugh.

"Ai nou gaf in yu sis. Ai gaf gonthru klin."

Lexa's heart stopped. Was she going to kill herself? Lexa shook her head, she refused to let that happen and she thanked the gods that she had gotten to her love when she had.

Clarke continued, switching back to English and pulling Lexa from her thoughts, "In the morning. After you disappear back into my head."

Her voice cracked, "I'll finally have peace."

Lexa crossed the small space and sat cross-legged in front of the distressed girl, taking Clarke's hands into her own, determined to get through to her.

"What if I did not go away? What if I was real, Clarke?"

Clarke shook her head, tears falling once again, "You're not. I know you're not."

She smiled up at Lexa, "But you look like she does. Your eyes are beautiful and green and soft like hers."

Her smile faded, "But I've seen you before, and you're never real."

Lexa dropped her hands and stood, extending a hand down, an idea striking her, "Come. I would like to show you something."

Clarke stood with Lexa's help and she led them to the cave entrance. Lexa clasped Clarke's hand tightly and she stepped out into the slowing rain, pulling Clarke behind her.

Lexa stopped beside her horse.

"Clarke," she asked softly, "can you feel the rain against your skin?"

She nodded.

"Is it real?"

Clarke's whole body trembled and her eyes were frozen wide, but she nodded.

"Can you feel the wind?"

Nod.

"Is it real?"

Nod.

Lexa took Clarke's hand and ran it along the mane and side of her horse.

"Can you feel my horse underneath your fingertips?"

Nod.

"Is it real?"

She watched Clarke swallow thickly and nod.

Carefully and achingly slowly, Lexa wrapped her arms around Clarke's frigid torso.

"Can you feel me in your arms?"

Clarke took a long time to answer, but eventually, Lexa heard her quiet whisper on the wind, "Yes."

She stepped back and held Clarke's face in her hands, searching the blue eyes she had missed so dearly, "Am I real?"

She watched the battle play in Clarke's eyes as she stuttered, "I-I-I don't... I-I can't..."

Lexa quickly undid the first few buckles of her armor and untied the top of her shirt, exposing the top of her chest binding. She took Clarke's quaking hands and placed them on her skin, directly over where her heart was beating, strong and alive and REAL.

"Can you feel my heartbeat in your hands?"

Never breaking eye contact she asked again, "Clarke. Am. I. Real?"

She watched the blonde's gaze seem to focus on her for the first time since she had found her, "L-Lexa?"

She caught Clarke as she collapsed into another round of sobs, clutching onto Lexa's shirt. When she went to pick her up she saw the gashes that covered the younger girls body. The rain had washed away most of her mud and Lexa noticed that Clarke's torso was covered front and back in angry, red slashes. Some were sloppily half cauterized and others bled still. She would deal with it later, Lexa decided.

Lexa picked Clarke up and carried her back into the cave and she laid her down on the make-shift bed.

She went to stand back up, but a cold hand wrapped tightly around her wrist, "No! No, please!" Clarke begged, "Please don't leave me!"

Lexa kissed her forehead, "I am just going to make a fire closer to here so that you can get warm. I'll be in your sight the whole time." She kneeled down and smoothed Clarke's hair back from her forehead.

"I vow it to you, Klark kom Skaikru. I will never leave you again."

Chapter Text

Lexa turned her full attention to her task, making a fire that would thaw Clarke's frozen body. The rain had almost stopped, and the thunder and lightning were long over. The only sounds were the occasional howl of the wind, the scuffle of her boots against the cave floor, and every now and then, Lexa would hear Clarke whimper.

Each time she turned back to check on the blonde, she would find her face down in her furs, trying to stop the tears. Once the fire was crackling a few feet away from the bed, Lexa sat down next to Clarke's shaking form.

Placing her hand on the girl's shoulder she spoke softly, "Clarke?" She waited for her favorite blue eyes to meet her own, "Can I pick you up to get you warm?"

Clarke nodded and Lexa slipped one arm under her knees and one under her shoulders before standing. She sat cross-legged right next to the fire and held on tightly to Clarke, who was laying across her lap. After a few minutes of silence, Lexa felt cold fingertips meet her skin, leaving a burning sensation in their wake.

She looked down at Clarke as she trailed her fingers all along Lexa's exposed skin, her collar bones, her neck, and her face. She let Clarke feel her beneath her hands in hopes it would bring some sort of comfort to her Skai Prisa.

Eventually, Lexa sighed, and took one of Clarke's hands in her own, kissing the back of it, "Are you getting warmer?"

Clarke nodded, "Sha. Mochof, Leksa."

Lexa's brows furrowed in confusion, "Have you been taught our language? Is that what you've been speaking this whole time?"

Clarke nodded again, "Ain lukot, em tich ai op."

"You have a friend out here? You were not alone this whole time?"

Clarke shook her head, "Ai don nou sin em in. Ai gon em we."

"Why did you leave her, Clarke?"

"Ai led em op." Clarke said, shamefully.

"What did you do to her?" Lexa asked as she set Clarke on the ground and stood, going over to fetch Clarke's shirt, a needle and thread, and a knife.

Clarke voice was bitter and laced with despair, something Lexa had never heard from her before. "I wanted to feel something other than guilt and numbness. I knew she loved me, so I slept with her. But, I did not love her. I left her because my actions hurt her, and had I stayed or gone back, I would have only continued to do so."

Lexa felt tears building behind her eyes, Clarke thought so little of herself. Clarke was sitting sideways by the fire so Lexa was able to kneel down in front of her.

"Will you let me heal your wounds?"

Clarke nodded before standing. Lexa was confused until Clarke sat back down, a bowl of water and a rag in her hands, pushing them towards Lexa.

"Thank you, Clarke."

Lexa smiled but received no answer from the blonde.

Lexa was disappointed, looks like she was done talking, though she was probably straining, seeing as she hadn't spoken that much in months. Lexa decided to simply hum a haunting tune as she washed the rest of the mud from Clarke's upper body, it was one Anya used to sing to her if she woke from nightmares.

She noticed Clarke's eyelids falling and motioned for her to pull her knees to her chest and rest her forehead on them, to try and sleep some, she would work on her back first. Clarke did just that and Lexa moved behind her, wiping the last of the mud from her body and setting to bowl aside.

She gasped at the marks on Clarke's body. She had tried to cauterize two of the three gashes on her shoulder. They ran from below her neck in the center of her upper back to just below her left shoulder. There were four more, only one attempted to be fixed, from the middle of her lower back all the way down to her right hip.

Lexa decided it was best to re-cauterize the one's Clarke had done, and do it properly this time. She would then do that with any of the more shallow gashes, but the really deep ones, she decided, would heal better if they were stitched.

She set to work, continuing to hum to keep Clarke asleep, hoping it would ease some of the pain she was about to be subjected to. If Clarke ever woke up during the process, she made no distinction. Lexa picked up her fragile form and laid her down on the bed so she could quickly heal her stomach. There were three angry gashes across Clarke's rib cage on the right side. She could tell Clarke was in pain, she hadn't cauterized them properly, and she had actually just made it worse for herself.

She finished them pretty quickly and was standing up when she felt Clarke's hand wrap around her wrist, "Lexa?"

She kneeled down, "Hey, I'm here. Were you awake for all of that?"

Clarke nodded, "I wanted to feel it."

Lexa sighed, "You shouldn't keep torturing yourself, I won't let you do this to yourself."

Clarke whispered a weak, "Sorry."

Lexa smiled softly, "It's okay."

Clarke opened her eyes and fixed Lexa in her gaze, "Can I ask you to do something for me?"

Lexa nodded, "Anything."

Clarke seemed to consider her words very carefully, "Would you be willing to give me kill marks?"

Lexa didn't need to consider this, it was a tradition for warriors and Clarke was no exception, "If that is what you wish."

Clarke nodded, "It is."

Clarke stood and walked over to the fire, Lexa followed, "On your back?"

Clarke nodded. Lexa placed her dagger back in the fire, waiting for it to glow again. "How many do you need, Clarke?"

"Seven that I can name, but..."

Lexa placed a steadying hand on her shoulder, "But what? What's wrong, Clarke?"

"My body's not big enough."

She could hear the tears in Clarke's voice, and she kissed the side of her head, "Okay. It's okay. I'll fix it."

Lexa had hoped her design choice would help Clarke's back remain beautiful, and indeed, the gashes and kill marks would heal to create a painting on skin. When she had finished the last of ten marks, she ran a cool rag over them, attempting to sooth the tender skin. Lexa slipped Clarke's shirt back over the blonde's head and turned her away from the fire.

She wiped the tears from Clarke's cheeks, their trails glowing in the firelight. Without saying a word, she took Clarke's hand and pulled her over to the bed. Lexa laid down on her side and wrapped her arms around Clarke's waist, holding her close.

She ran her fingers through sunlight hair and whispered, "It's alright. I'm here and you're safe. It's over now."

Clarke looked up from where she had been hiding in the side of Lexa's neck. "Where do I go from here?"

She looked at Lexa with that lost, broken expression and Lexa thanked the gods that she had the answer.

"With me. Come to Polis and stay by my side. As my equal in all ways."

Innocently, Clarke voiced something that had been swirling around in her head. "I should hate you."

Lexa gazed down at the beautiful girl in her arms and, though afraid of the answer, found herself asking softly, "Do you?"

Clarke's blue eyes kept Lexa's green ones in her gaze as if searching for something. She shook her head, "No."

Lexa smiled and asked again, "Come and live in Polis with me, Clarke."

She nodded, "Okay."

Lexa grinned widely and noticed Clarke smile for the first time since she had seen her. Lexa leaned down and kissed Clarke's forehead.

"Rest now, Klark. Dream sweetly."

Clarke nuzzled back into Lexa's neck as the brunette pulled the furs tightly around them.

"Reshop, Leksa."

Chapter Text

Lexa woke abruptly as screams filled her ears. Her instincts and training kicked in and she quickly scanned her surroundings, checking if anything was a threat to her. A threat to Clarke. It took her a moment to realize that the noise was coming directly from the blonde in her arms.

She looked down to find Clarke with her eyes squeezed shut, her nails digging into the furs as she clawed at them, and a fine layer of sweat covering her body. Every few minutes, Clarke's screams would fill the cave and echo off of the walls, the clear torture in her tone making Lexa flinch.

Lexa tried desperately to wake Clarke, she tried everything she could think of to rouse her, but nothing seemed to work. With a resigned sigh, Lexa realized that this was something Clarke was going to have to get through by herself. Not wanting to sir and listen to her pained cried, Lexa stood and made her way outside.

She fed her horse and collected firewood, as well as some of the berried that were nearby. She sat outside the cave and watched the sun begin to rise, finally allowing herself to release a few tears for the woman she loved.

She had expected to find her somewhat lost, she had even expected to find her half insane. But Lexa had never imagined finding Clarke so broken.

The light in her favorite pair of blue eyes was now dull. And one of Lexa's favorite sounds, Clarke's laughter, was nowhere to be heard.

She had made a vow to Clarke, never to leave her again. It was that morning in the early sunlight, sitting on the damp ground outside of a small cave, and listening to the screams of Clarke as she fought her inner demons, that Lexa made a vow to herself.

"I will fix her."

Once she was back in the cave, Lexa made a quick fire. She placed the rest of the meat she had brought over the flames to cook and placed the berried she had picked in a small wooden bowl. Clarke's screams had quieted to pained whimpers and Lexa decided to try once again to wake her.

"Clarke," she spoke gently, kneeling and shaking the blonde slightly, "Clarke, you're having a nightmare. Clarke, please. Wake up."

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Clarke shot upright, tears running down her face. She felt someone grab her wrists, and she pulled against their grip, flailing desperately to get away.

"Hey. Hey, it's me. Clarke. It's me."

Her vision cleared as her eyes adjusted to the faint morning light, and Clarke finally recognized the person in front of her.

"Lexa." She sobbed, covering her mouth with her hand.

Clarke was pulled into Lexa's embrace, the brunette's arms encircling Clarke's shaking form.

There was a hand on her waist and one in her hair, "Shh. It's alright. I've got you, Clarke. You're okay."

Clarke managed to calm herself down quickly, and continued to cling to Lexa even after her tears had dried. She hadn't realized how starved of human contact she was until she was held tightly in Lexa's arms. Of course, Clarke's stomach decided it was the perfect time to release a cry of hunger. She ignored it, it was a pain she had gotten used to.

Lexa chuckled and stood, offering Clarke her hand.

"I made food. Come."

They sat side by side near the fire and Lexa placed a plate on Clarke's lap. She looked up at Lexa with wide eyes, it was the most food Clarke had seen in weeks.

Lexa nodded, "It's yours."

They began to eat in silence, but Lexa grew too curious.

"Clarke?"

The blonde jumped and her eyes quickly flashed around the cave before finally settling on Lexa. She watched Clarke visibly relax when she realized it was only her.

She decided not to comment, instead asking, "When was the last time you ate something?"

Clarke shrugged.

"Drank anything?"

She shrugged again.

Lexa moved closer until their knees were touching. "Are you comfortable using your voice and talking to me?"

Clarke nodded, unsure which language to use.

Watching her eyebrows furrow, Lexa added, "You can answer in any way you wish. But I am curious."

Clarke nodded again, wincing at how her voice cracked when she spoke, "Okay."

Lexa stood, returning with a cup of water, which Clarke drank greedily. Placing the empty cup by her feet and feeling the cool relief of water in her dry throat she spoke again, her voice clearer this time.

"Thanks."

Lexa nodded and decided the best order to ask her questions.

"Do you know how long you've been out here?"

"Not really. I never went back to camp after Mount Weather. So, my guess is a few months."

"Seven."

"What?"

Lexa sighed, "You've been gone seven months, Clarke."

Clarke nodded, "Oh. Okay." She wasn't sure quite how to react.

"Do you know where you are? Did you come to Azgeda on purpose, Clarke?"

"I didn't want to be found." Clarke snapped.

Lexa ignored her tone and continued, "I take it the red hair helped with that as well. And wearing our clothes and speaking our language."

Though it wasn't a question, Clarke nodded.

Lexa was getting frustrated. "Did you at least bring a weapon to protect yourself? Your gun?"

"I buried it. I won't touch another one. Not again."

Lexa's expression softened, her again dissipating. She went to reach out, but dropped her hand when Clarke flinched at her too quick movement.

"You don't have to."

They sat in silence and Lexa finished eating, placing her plate beside her.

Clarke sighed, she had to ask, "Did they look for me?"

"Yes. A few even came storming into TonDC thinking you had been kidnapped. Indra came to Polis and informed me. It is how I found out about you being gone. And here I am."

Pushing her empty plate aside, Clarke fully turned to Lexa.

"Kidnapped? Was Bellamy with them?"

"I believe so. Why?"

Clarke was confused. "Because I told him I was leaving. He was with me when I left."

Lexa held Clarke's gaze. "Sometimes we refuse to acknowledge the truth because it is too painful."

Clarke didn't respond. Lexa knew she was too caught up in her own thoughts. Carefully, she stretched out her hand and pulled Clarke's hand into her lap.

"I saw what you did at the mountain. I want to thank you for respecting my fallen warriors."

"They deserved the proper ceremony. They all did."

They sat in silence for a while before Clarke stood and began packing all of her materials into her bag in preparation for travel. Lexa took the time to put out the fire.

Lexa waited for Clarke at the mouth of the cave. When she heard light footsteps coming up behind her she spoke, "Do you know what I think, Clarke? I think that you isolating yourself out here... it wasn't about you not wanting to be found. It was about you not believing you were worth being found."

Turning to Clarke, Lexa watched as despair and pain flashed across her features. Clarke's tear filled eyes met her steady ones and Lexa saw the ghost of her favorite smile, "But you came anyways."

Intertwining their fingers, Lexa stepped forward, "Because I know you're worthy of being found. Let's go home, Clarke."

Clarke voice broke with the weight of her guilt, "I don't know if I have a home anymore, Lexa."

Engulfing Clarke in a hug,, Lexa kissed the top of her head. "You will always have a home with me, Clarke. Please," she asked, stepping back and holding out her hand, "let me take you there."

Clarke bit her lip and seemed to think very hard for a few moments.

But eventually, she nodded and accepted Lexa's hand. Lexa led Clarke to her horse with a soft smile on her face.

Clarke was here.

Clarke was safe.

And Clarke was coming home.

Chapter Text

Clarke was settled on the horse in front of Lexa, at Lexa's insistence. The brunette knew how tired Clarke had to be, and wanted her safe if she fell asleep on the journey. She also selfishly wanted to keep the blonde in her arms, dreading that she might just disappear again.

The pair spoke lightly all morning as they traveled back to the outer edges of Azgeda. Sometimes it took a while for Clarke to respond, but Lexa knew to be patient because she was still adjusting to using her voice again.

Another reason Lexa wanted Clarke in front of her, was so that she could observe the blonde. She had changed so much in the past months. Lexa watched as Clarke's head turned every few minutes as she scanned their surroundings. She noticed how Clarke's body remained stiff and straight, her posture rigid and always poised to attack at any moment.

Lexa sighed, she may be bringing Clarke back to a civilized place, but it would be a long time before the blonde would realize she was no longer alone in the woods and that she no longer had to fight to survive every second.

Hoping not to dwell too long on those dark thoughts, she asked Clarke to tell her about her favorite memories from the last seven months, praying to the gods that her memories were not all filled with pain and suffering.

"Well," Clarke began, "for a while, especially in the beginning, there wasn't really anything to be happy about. I was filled with so much guilt and just this crippling pain would never go away. I forgot what happiness felt like."

She shook her head, as if shaking the thoughts away.

"Then, I found Niylah. Or rather, she found me, attacked me, and threatened to kill me."

Lexa chuckled quietly, not wanting to interrupt. She really had missed Clarke's voice.

"Anyways, spending time with her brought things up for a while, at least enough that everything was bearable."

Clarke paused.

"When I left her, things got really bad again...I'll spare you all the details...but there were a few nights that I barely managed to survive, and a few I probably shouldn't have."

She was quiet for a while, but Lexa knew better than to pry. Clarke would open up in time. Lexa thought she was done speaking, but then the blonde continued,

"So I guess, if you were to ask me about the good times, I would say the mornings."

Clarke felt her stoic mask falling out of place as she was swept up in memories, "Sitting outside when it was still cold from the night and watching the sun come over the horizon. The dark sky exploding into color. I watched the sun rise almost every day out here."

Wanting to offer comfort and keep her talking, Lexa gently kissed the top of Clarke's head before asking, "Why the sunrise?"

Clarke blinked a few times to clear her vision. She swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in her throat as she was bombarded with the thought of each sunrise she had endured.

Finally able to form words as her eyes darted around the forest she spoke, "Because it reminded me that-"

Just as quickly as it had dropped, Clarke slammed her mask back into place.

She sat up even straighter and more rigid than before, refusing to relax back against Lexa as she had started to do, even though her broken body groaned and screamed in protest.

Confused as to the sudden change in the girl in front of her, Lexa's eyes roamed the area before they settled on the make-shift camp of her two warriors. They stood, seeing her horse approaching and bowed their heads.

"Heda."

Seeing Clarke, the woman nodded in respect while the man sneered, "Wanheda."

Lexa growled. "En pleni."

Clarke dismounted before Lexa could even think to offer her help, though she knew it would not have been accepted anyways. Sighing, Lexa dismounted quickly, hoping the little progress she had just made with Clarke wasn't gone.

"Prepare quickly for our journey back to Polis. We leave here in fifteen minutes."

Walking over to where Clarke was, she spoke quietly, staring forward, "If you are hungry-"

"I'm not." Clarke snapped.

Lexa continued evenly, "That is a lie. But, fine. We will reach Polis before the moon is high."

Turning to meet a cold blue gaze she continued, her voice still gentle, "You have nothing to fear among my people. You are safe here, Clarke. And you will be safe in Polis." The younger girl's reply made Lexa's heart ache, though it was spoken with the same cold tone that shone in her eyes.

"I am the Commander of Death. I'm not safe anywhere."

Once everything was packed and ready for travel, Lexa turned to Clarke prepared to help her back onto her horse. But, she found Clarke already on the horse of the man she had killed, ready to ride bareback. With somewhat of a dumbfounded expression she met her favorite blue gaze. Clarke simply winked with that ghost of a smile that made Lexa's heart soar. Not wanting to lost this playful side, Lexa smirked and turned to her two warriors.

"What happened with the saddle?"

It was the woman who answered, "It is packed. We took it off to relieve the horse of its weight." Turning to Clarke she continued, "Wanheda. If you wish, I could-"

"Nou. En's ku."

She nodded, "Very well."

Lexa mounted her horse and after double checking they had everything, the group set out for Polis. The two warriors rode in front and Lexa was right behind them. Clarke, however, chose to ride slightly behind the group. They were traveling at a simple walking pace and Clarke took the time to observe the place she had been living.

The air was cool, but Clarke knew the nights could be frigid. The trees mostly had needles instead of leaved and they were a dark green instead of the medium hue she had first known on Earth. She thought about her little cave on top of the hill.

It was a dark and lonely place, but it had come to be her home. Paintings made with mud and ash covered its walls, and her hands itched to create the images again before they were gone from her mind.

Now that she was leaving, Clarke realized that she once again had no home.

No Ark or cell of tent or cave to call her own.

More importantly, she realized she didn't know who she was now.

Skaikru?

No. She had left, walked away. The metal walls of the Ark had kept her prisoner, it was not her place to be among those people.

Trikru?

She wanted to laugh. No, definitely not.

Out in the woods, she had only been Wanheda. The Commander of Death.

But she was leaving that now too, so was she really still who she had been.

Not really.

Clarke sighed rather loudly, defeated.

Looks like she just had to be Clarke now. The problem was, she didn't know who Clarke was.

She was pulled from her inner ramblings when a boot touched hers. She hadn't noticed Lexa fall back next to her.

"Klark. Yu ste ogud?"

Clarke nodded, "Sha. Ai laik ogud."

Curious, Lexa asked, "Where did you learn to ride?"

"Niylah tich ai op."

Lexa nodded and the two women lapsed into silence for a few minutes before Clarke broke it.

"If I may ask, Lexa. Would we be able to travel faster? I haven't ridden in a while and I must admit I miss the feeling."

Lexa smiled, "If you think you can keep up?"

Playful Clarke was back and Lexa could see the determination settle over her features.

"Try me."

Smirking, Lexa whistled and kicked the sides of her horse, urging him into a gallop. She was surprised to find that Clarke easily kept up with her rapid pace.

Chapter Text

They reached the outskirts on Polis sooner than expected because of their faster pace, the setting sun creating a breathtaking backdrop to the city. Lexa slowed her horse to a walk as the gates came into view. She found herself smiling, she was home. And Clarke, Clarke was by her side.

"Heda!" A guard shouted. "Heda is back! Open the gates!"

Lexa dismounted and walked through the gates, relief filling her lungs. She turned to Clarke, ready to give her a tour with the remaining sunlight, but her smile fell to panic when the blonde was not next to her.

It took Lexa a few moments to locate her, but she let out a huge breath, unaware that she had been holding it when she finally found her. Clarke was standing about ten feet from the gates, staring at the city with wide, terror filled eyes. Recognizing that look from some of Clarke's nightmares, Lexa knew she had to get through to her.

Cautiously, Lexa began trying to close the distance between them, holding her hands up in front of her and calling softly, "Clarke. You're okay. It's safe here."

She froze when Clarke started shaking her head and taking steps back towards the trees, a glazed look in her eyes. Lexa turned to her warriors and the guards watching them.

"Leave us." She ordered.

When they made no move to give them space she growled lowly, "Do not make Heda repeat herself."

When she was finally alone with Clarke, Lexa softened her features again.

"Clarke."

The blonde flinched at the sound of her name and Lexa wanted to cry. Trying again she took a step closer, satisfied when Clarke stayed in place.

"Clarke. It's just me. It's Lexa."

She continued to take small steps toward the shaking girl in slow progression so she didn't startle her.

When she was close enough, Lexa reached out slowly and pulled Clarke into her.

Clarke trembled in her arms and Lexa only held her tighter and whispered, "Shh. It's alright. I'm right here, Clarke."

Lexa waited until her tremors had stopped before holding Clarke at arm's length and continuing to speak calmly.

"We made it to Polis, Clarke. Let me get you inside. Let's go inside and all this will be over."

Clarke started to panic again and Lexa held Clarke's face in her hands when she saw tears forming in her eyes, cooing, "Shh. Breathe. Breathe with me, Clarke."

She took one of Clarke's hands and held it over her chest, taking long, deep breaths.

Clarke clenched her eyes shut trying to focus on breathing and hoping that getting rid of some of the sensory input to her brain would help. Slowly, she regained some of her composure and opened her eyes again. Blue orbs met green ones full of concern.

Clarke nodded, "I'm okay."

Lexa didn't dare let her go. Instead, she intertwined their fingers and took a few steps towards the gates. When Clarke took the steps slowly after her, Lexa took another few and waited patiently for Clarke to walk up to her. It worked for a few feet, but once they were about three feet from the gates and Clarke could see the bustle of the city inside, she froze.

Lexa looked back, "Clarke?"

Feeling the panic coming back she tried to speak, only managing to squeak out, "I-I can't."

Lexa walked back to where Clarke was and asked, "What can't you do? Clarke, what's wrong."

But Clarke didn't know how to answer that question. All she knew was she couldn't go through with this. "I-I can't go in-inside."

It was with those words that Lexa finally understood what was going on in Clarke's head. Clarke hadn't spoken in months, which meant that she hadn't had interaction with another person in at least as long. Lexa was angry with herself.

How could she have expected Clarke to just walk right into a giant city full of people and fit right in?

Clarke had to be terrified. Going from a dark cave in the middle of the woods to a lively city full of strangers, not to mention Clarke's PTSD, it's no wonder she was reacting the way she is.

Lexa dropped Clarke's hand and wiped the tears from her cheeks with her thumbs, "Then you don't have to."

Clarke looked up, surprised, "What?"

Lexa smiled sweetly, "I am sorry, Clarke. I did not remember how big of a change this will be for you. You do not have to enter the city until you are ready to."

Clarke nodded after a few minutes, "Thank you."

Lexa helped Clarke set up a small shelter to sleep in for the night. She sent for food to be brought to them and watched as Clarke made her own fire, surprised at how efficient she was, especially considering the wet ground and wood. They sat on the ground together and shared a meal, not saying much.

As the first few stars began to appear in the sky Lexa sighed. She had to get inside the city for the night. But she really didn't want to leave Clarke alone again. Seeing the conflict passing over her features, Clarke squeezed Lexa's hand, "You have to get inside, don't you?"

She could see how torn Lexa was. "I could-"

"No." Clarke interrupted. "Go inside the city. Sleep in a bed. Be warm. I'll be fine out here."

Lexa stood and Clarke stood with her. "Are you sure?"

Clarke nodded, "What's one more night in the woods, right?" She tried joking.

Neither girl laughed.

Lexa sighed and ran her thumb along Clarke's cheek before kissing her forehead. "Reshop, Klark. Sleep well."

Clarke watched her retreat inside the walls surrounding the city with a heavy heart, "Reshop, Leksa."

Later that night, when the moon was high overhead, Clarke shot upright, yanked abruptly from her nightmares. She panicked glancing around at the unfamiliar surroundings.

"Wanheda? Is everything alright?"

Clarke flinched at the name, but slowing started to remember the events if the past few days.

She turned to the woman guarding the gates and nodded, answering shakily, "Sha."

The warrior nodded and said nothing more, turning back to focus on her task.

With a resigned sigh, Clarke stood and added a few more logs to her fire, giving up on the idea of sleeping anymore that night. As she sat by the roaring flames, the ground damp and cold beneath her and her knees drawn to her chest, she found herself staring longingly at the tower in the center of the city.

Heda's tower.

Clarke wondered where in the building Lexa was. Probably somewhere near the top, she decided. Hopefully, Lexa was warm and resting well, Clarke thought as a breeze caused her to shiver and inch closer to the heat.

She sat there, lost in thoughts of the brunette with the piercing green eyes. She whispered her words like a broken prayer to the wind.

"Thank you for saving me."

What Clarke didn't know, was that the Commander was not resting peacefully, but standing on the balcony of her room with a fur wrapped securely around her shoulders. Her mind was racing too quickly for sleep to come and when it did it was in short fitful bursts.

Lexa couldn't help but think of the blonde with the striking blue eyes, nestled right outside the city walls. Her blue eyes once full of passion and life were now only filled with pain, guilt, and hatred.

Lexa sighed, pulling the fur a little tighter around her body and stared at the small fire burning brightly against the darkness of night. Her heart yearned for the blonde to come into the city, where Lexa would be able to slowly start bringing the light back into her eyes.

Lexa wanted nothing more in that moment than to hold Clarke safely in her arms.

Little did the brunette know, Clarke wanted the exact same thing.

Chapter Text

Lexa was awake and dressed by the time the sun began to rise. She was outside and strolling through the market as the first few golden ray broke the horizon. She traveled the twisting streets easily and made her way towards one shop in particular.

She called out to the vendor as she neared, "Larkin!"

The young girl's head snapped from her book and she smiled widely, "Heda!"

Larkin was only thirteen winters but lost her parents to hunger during a particularly hard winter the one before last. She had taken over their small farm and opened her own fruit stand to support herself. Lexa always made sure to buy from her and give her a few extra coins.

The redheaded teen stood from her stool and asked, "What will it be today, Leksa?"

Lexa's eyes scanned the piles of fruit expertly, "It all looks wonderful, Larkin."

She blushed, "Mochof, Heda. I have been very lucky lately."

Lexa nodded, "Two of those red apples, two peaches, and...a small basket of strawberries, please."

"Of course, Heda."

Having been handed the fruit and placing it into a small basket she had bought, Lexa paid the young girl. When Larkin tried to give back the extra money, Lexa refused.

"You work for this money, Young One. It is not charity. Keep what is yours."

Larkin bowed her head, respectfully. "Mochof, Heda."

Lexa smiled, "Pro."

As Lexa turned to leave, Larkin called out, "I hope you and Wanheda enjoy the fruit!"

Lexa smiled and blushed thinking of Clarke. "I'm sure we will! See you tomorrow, Larkin!"

Reaching the gate surrounding the outer edges of Polis, Lexa called over to the guard on duty.

"Deirdre."

The dark-haired woman came over to her, "Good morning, Leksa."

Lexa nodded, "It is. How is she?"

Deirdre sighed, "Sleeping. Finally."

At Lexa's questioning gaze, she explained.

"She woke after only a few hours. Abruptly. I called out to let her know I was there, but we spoke no more after she assured me she was fine. She added more fuel to her fire and stayed awake after that. Staring at the flames and unmoving from what I could tell. Exhaustion took over about an hour or two ago."

Lexa sighed. "Alright. Thank you for keeping an eye on her for me. Someone should be here to relieve you soon."

Deirdre nodded. "It was no problem, Heda. I simply wish to help her as much as I am able to. I wish I could have done more."

"As do I. Go on and rest well, Deirdre."

With that, she walked past the gates and over to Clarke's small camp. Flames licked at the edges of a few half-burnt logs, meaning they hadn't been added that long ago. Lexa sat down her basket and crouched in front of Clarke.

She looked uncomfortable, Lexa decided.

Her knees were drawn to her chest, her arms are wrapped tightly around herself, and her forehead was resting on her knees. Lexa reached forward to move some hair from Clarke's face.

The next thing she knew she was on the ground with a knife pressing into her throat.

She looked up with wide eyes and found a cold, calculating expanse of blue. Lexa pushed down her instincts to react and stayed very, very still. She swallowed against the cool blade, feeling it press against her pulse point.

"Clarke." She whispered.

Something flickered in her favorite pair of blue eyes, but it was quickly taken over once again by an angry, detached haze.

Again, Lexa tried to bring the blonde back to her, "Clarke."

When no reaction came, she did something that she knew would break through, at least she hoped it would.

Lexa pushed herself up and into the knife, drawing a few drops of her midnight blood. She could feel Clarke gasp slightly and could feel the girl's hand start shaking. She opened her eyes and was met with tear filled blue. Lexa knew she didn't want to do this. It had simply become Clarke's instinct. Kill or be killed.

Because of her.

"I'm sorry, Clarke."

Lexa knew she was finally breaking through the blonde's walls, tears were streaming down Clarke's face and her grip on the knife was faltering. But Lexa wasn't done, she had carried her guilt for months, worrying about the fate of her strong and stubborn sky princess.

"I never meant to turn you into this."

With a choked sob, Clarke flicked her wrist, sending the dagger into the dirt with a thud. Clarke stood from where she had been crouched over Lexa and staggered back a few steps, the reality of what she had almost done starting to sink in.

Lexa watched her movements carefully, thankful that she had sent the guard home early. She took a step towards the wild girl only when she had stopped moving back towards the trees.

She reached out a hand, palm up, "Clarke?"

"I'm sorry." Clarke croaked, her body trembling from holding her sobs inside.

Lexa took another small step forward, "I'm not angry, Clarke. It's okay."

Clarke shook her head, "I'm so sorry. I-I just-"

Lexa took one final step and pulled Clarke into her arms, "It's okay. I understand."

Clarke just shook her head back and forth, crying softly into Lexa's chest.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Lexa held her tightly, "It's alright, Clarke. It's okay. Quiet now."

Clarke quieted a few minutes later and Lexa reluctantly released her. Guiding her gently, Lexa brought them back to the fire.

"I brought breakfast. Something I think you will enjoy."

Once they were sitting, Lexa pulled out the contents if her basket and chuckled quietly at Clarke's awed expression.

"Clarke? Did you have fruit on the Ark?"

Clarke shook her head. "We tried but it never really worked out. Not like this." She smiled, amazed as she held an apple in her hands.

Lexa bit into her apple, and watched Clarke with a small smile, motioning for her to do the same, "Go on. Eat, Clarke."

She slowly sunk her teeth into the crisp skin surrounding the fruit. The cool, sweet juice filled her mouth and she moaned softly before she could stop herself. She closed her eyes, content to savor the new flavor. She continued chewing, biting off one piece after another, until the apple was gone. Then, she opened her eyes to see green already staring back.

Without a word, Lexa handed her another strange fruit. It was smaller than the apple and slightly fuzzy. Clarke look up at Lexa with wide eyes, but Lexa was already eating hers, and so Clarke did the same.

It was juicier than the apple was, Clarke noted as some it ran down her chin. She heard Lexa laugh at her and she opened her eyes, tilting her head questioningly.

"You have some...never mind, I'll get it."

Lexa leaned over and ran her thumb over Clarke's chin, wiping off the mess. She licked the juice from her finger and smiled at the blonde, who was watching her transfixed. She waited until the peach was gone before she reached into the basket to bring out the strawberries.

She handed one to Clarke and said, "You know how we didn't eat the middle of the apple and the peach?"

Clarke nodded, still staring intently at the small berry in her hand.

"Well, we don't eat the tops of these. And I have a bunch, so you can have as many as you like."

Placing the basket between them, Lexa leaned back, using one hand to support herself and the other to eat some of the strawberries.

Clarke noticed that these were a deep scarlet, and had small seeds scattered over their surface. Lexa said not to eat the top and seeing as that was the part covered in the stem and leaves, she guessed that made sense.

These were sweet as well, and positively addicting. Before she knew it, the entire basket of berries between them was empty. Lexa giggled at the disappointed look on Clarke's face.

"You know, Clarke. If you're ready to try going inside, I can show you where to get some more."

Clarke looked up at Lexa, eyes flickering over her shoulder to the walls of Polis and then back to Lexa. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She opened her eyes and nodded.

"I need to ask you something first."

Lexa was slightly confused, but nodded, "Of course, Clarke. Anything."

She watched Clarke's brow furrow and was surprised by the next thing that came out of her mouth.

"Do you trust me?"

She spoke true, "Of course I do, Clarke."

Clarke shook her head, "Why?"

Lexa wasn't sure where this was going, "What do you mean?"

"Why do you trust me? Lexa, I just tried to kill you. And not for the first time."

Moving to sit a little closer to the blonde, Lexa tucked her legs under and put a comforting hand on Clarke's shoulder.

"I knew you wouldn't do it."

Clarke shook her head again and Lexa could hear the war in her voice, the frustration. "How? How could you possibly know that? I didn't even know that."

Lexa stood and moved until she was crouching in front of Clarke. She held Clarke's face in her hands and made sure to keep Clarke's gaze when she told her, "I know you."

When tears appeared on Clarke's cheeks again, Lexa wiped them away with the gentle pads of her thumbs.

"Please, Clarke. Come inside with me."

"Okay."

Chapter Text

Lexa made sure to keep to the outskirts of the city, knowing Clarke would not react well to the busy marketplace. She brought Clarke to the back of Larkin's stall, raising her hand to knock on the wood.

Larking rushed around to them but froze when she saw Clarke. The blonde was standing slightly behind Lexa, hiding. She had a firm grip on her hand and squeezed it lightly to tell Clarke that Larkin was a friend.

"I know I usually only stop by once, but Wanheda wanted some more breakfast, so I thought I would show her to get the best."

"Chof, Heda." The young girl replied, gazing curiously at the one they called Wanheda. The girl seemed frightened and Larkin took a small step forward.

"Ai laik Larkin, Wanheda. What would you like?"

"Strawberries, please," was the timid response.

Larkin watched Lexa lead the blonde away once they had another basket of strawberries. She liked the way Lexa interacted with her. She liked Wanheda.

Clarke was amazed as Lexa led her through the twisting hallways of the Polis tower. She could hear the sounds of meetings being carried out as they passed some of the rooms.

All the guards that they passed bowed for Lexa, and surprisingly, for Clarke as well. Eventually, Lexa stopped in front of a large pair of double doors.

"This is your room. I've had everything prepared for you. My room is-"

"Can I stay with you?" Clarke interrupted in a whisper.

Lexa was shocked, and her pause must have scared Clarke because before she could react, the blonde was rambling.

"I'm sorry. Nevermind, it was a stupid question. Of course, I can't, you're Heda. And I'm just-"

"Yes."

"What? Clarke looked up surprised."

"Of course you can stay with me, Clarke." Lexa smiled softly, "I would love for you to stay with me."

Clarke followed quietly behind Lexa as they passed the guards and entered her chambers. The room was warm, that's the first thing Clarke noticed. She was warm for the first time in months. One side of the room was filled with a few tables and chairs, a couch and a wardrobe, and soft fur rugs. The other side was mainly Lexa's bed. The headboard was made from several intricately carved pieces and the bed itself was covered in some of the finest furs Clarke had ever seen.

"Wow." She breathed out, overwhelmed by it all.

Lexa looked back over her shoulder at Clarke, seeing that she had yet to move further into the room.

"Is everything alright?" She asked.

The blonde simply nodded in response.

"I know it must be overwhelming. Especially after going so long with so little. That being said, anything you may want, anything at all, you need only ask for it."

"Thank you," Clarke whispered.

"Welcome home, Klark." Lexa smiled softly.

Lexa decided to get some of her daily work done. She sat at one of the two large meeting tables and pulled the stack of parchment documents in front of her. As she scanned each one and added her input, she kept an eye on Clarke. The younger girl was slowly walking through the room, running her fingertips along the walls as she went. Lexa watched as she did this several times, hearing the occasional whisper pierce the silence as Clarke spoke to herself.

After she watched her begin her sixth lap of the perimeter, Lexa spoke up.

"Clarke?"

The blonde's wide eyes snapped to her and she paused her relentless pacing.

"Is something making you uneasy?"

Lexa had observed similar patterns of behavior in animals that had been trapped in cages.

"Moba, Heda. I am not used to being within four walls."

Lexa stood and crossed to where the girl was. She raised a hand to caress the blonde's cheek.

"You may tell me anytime if you are uncomfortable. Your needs are my own, Clarke."

Clarke blushed and nodded. Lexa opened the balcony doors and the curtains flourished in the breeze.

"There," she smiled and teased, "much more like a cave now."

She was satisfied as Clarke turned an even darker shade of red. She went back to her work as Clarke stood on the balcony, gaze cast far somewhere in the distance. Their silence wasn't interrupted again until there was a knock on the door.

"Sha? Enter." Lexa called.

Indra entered the room. She saw Clarke's figure on the balcony and eyes her back warily before addressing Lexa.

"Heda. The meeting you called will be beginning soon."

Lexa nodded, "Mochof, Indra."

The general left the room and Lexa turned to Clarke, the blonde's silhouette glowing brilliantly against the midday sun. She took a few steps onto the balcony and laid a gentle hand on Clarke's shoulder.

"Will you be alright while I'm gone?"

"Why did you call a meeting?"

"The Ambassadors need to be updated on the state of the mountain. I will also need to inform them that you are in Polis and are under my protection. Any threat against you is a threat against me."

Lexa knew Clarke was trying to avoid her original question, but she needed to know the answer, so she asked again, "Clarke. Will you be alright while I'm gone?"

Clarke forced a small smile on her face, but couldn't look Lexa in the eyes as she answered, "Of course. Go be Commander, I'll be fine here."

It had been about twenty minutes or so since Lexa had left for the meeting and Clarke was getting restless. She'd gone back to pacing around the room, listening to the guards speaking outside the doors. There was no way she would be about to get past them.

She sighed frustratedly and then decided, caution be damned.

She turned on her heel and strode back out onto the balcony. She leaned over the small wall and peered downwards. She could see another small balcony jutting out of the tower a few stories down. She also noticed that from that point there was a few small ridges and misplaced stones that she could use to help her rappel the rest of the way.

She glanced down at her clothes, they were the same ones she'd been wearing since her last visit with Niylah. They were torn and covered in mud and blood. She would be recognized in no time if she wore them.

She sighed again and quickly stripped, leaving her old clothes wherever they fell. She tore through Lexa's wardrobe and found a comfortable looking pair of black pants and a tan shirt. She pulled them on and though they were a little tight, they fit pretty well. She pulled her own boots back on and went back to the edge of the balcony.

She took a deep breath, calming herself and psyching herself up for what she was about to attempt.

"Okay, Clarke." She whispered, looking down towards her target, "All you have to do is angle your jump right and you'll drop right down."

She swung her legs over the edge and dropped down, hanging by her fingertips. She looked down past her feet and judged the angle before swinging her feet just so and letting go of the wall.

Clarke felt like she was flying, though in the back of her mind she knew she was actually falling. When she landed harshly, there was a twinge of pain in her ankle and a jolt to her hip, but other than that, she was fine.

She smiled widely and laughed for the first time in what seemed like forever.

Sneaking around the streets of Polis wasn't too complicated for Clarke. She just had to avoid Lexa's guards and it's not like were actively looking for her. She walked down the busy market streets, taking in what the different vendors were selling, and taking a mental note as to where everything was located. She wanted to be able to pull up a mental map if need be.

She wandered for a few hours, no destination in mind, enjoying the tranquility of the city and its people. As she turned another corner, she froze. Stretched out in front of her, were at least a dozen different spaces for warriors and guards to train and learn new skills. She smiled widely as she saw an open one and walked confidently to a rack of staffs on the side of the grounds.

She could feel eyes on her, but she knew they were merely curious as opposed to malicious. She entered the empty ring and quickly rolled her neck and shoulders before settling into a familiar fighting stance.

She twirled the staff separately in each of her hands to get acquainted with its weight before shifting forward and beginning the series of attacks she’d taught herself. She closed her eyes as she did this, embracing the familiar stretch of her muscles, she could almost pretend she was still back at her cave.

Her peaceful state of mind was suddenly broken as a sharp, “Clarke Abigail Griffin!” was thrown in her direction. She froze, her back automatically straightening and her chin rising as her body steeled in response to the abrupt shift of mindset.

She heard footsteps coming quickly closer and all she could do was sigh.

“Shit.”

Chapter Text

Clarke turned around slowly, that knowledge that she was totally unprepared for what was about to occur settling into the pit on her stomach. The first thing she felt was a sharp sting against her cheek before she was pulled into a crushing embrace.

"Don't you ever do that again!"

Clarke stood frozen in shock, she was so out of practice with social interaction that her mind was reeling with how to respond.

"...hi?" was what eventually came out.

Abby Griffin didn't notice though, her rage finally cresting over at seeing her daughter here in the capital, training as if nothing was wrong.

"I wake up in the med bay only to be notified that my daughter is gone! And to think that you've been here! The whole time! And-"

Clarke could feel everyone's eyes on her, making her tense up even further. As her mother continued to yell at her for leaving, Clarke could feel panic rising in her chest. She couldn't take it. She had to escape.

She spun quickly but before she could take two steps, there were arms around her. Lexa, was all her mind could register. Lexa's hands were on her hips, supplying enough pressure to keep her in place while still being gentle. Clarke tucked her head into Lexa's neck as she began to address her mother.

"Chancellor Griffin. What seems to be the problem?"

"This isn't your concern, Commander. This is between me and my daughter."

Lexa raised her chin, "This is my concern, Chancellor. Wanheda is here as my guest and whoever makes her uncomfortable, whether they are her mother or not, is mine to deal with."

Abby huffed and walked away and Lexa pulled Clarke back a little, putting her hands on her face so their eyes could meet.

"She's furious with me." Clarke pouted, sounding like she was on the edge of tears.

"She was worried about you for months, Clarke. She isn't angry, simply overwhelmed." Lexa soothed, a hand running through sunshine hair, "As was I at first. But you're here now. And that is what matters. She'll calm down soon." Lexa smiled, softly.

Clarke nodded and nuzzled back into Lexa's arms with a small noise.

Once they were alone back in Lexa's chambers with the guards posted back outside in the hall, Lexa relaxed onto one of the couches, letting the rigidity of the commander fall away. After a few seconds, she noticed that Clarke hadn't followed her. She looked up to find the blonde fidgeting nervously by the door. She knew the girl had something on her mind.

"Words, Klark." She gently ordered.

Clarke cleared her throat and spoke sheepishly, still looking at the floor, "I'm sorry I left your room earlier. And didn't leave a note."

"Ah yes, that. I am curious how you managed that, seeing as my guards had no idea how'd you'd gone."

Clarke blushed and hid her face behind her hair. "I went over the balcony."

Lexa turned to find the setting sun peeking in through the billowing curtains, the doors left wide open. She laughed quietly, so quietly Clarke almost didn't hear her. She did, however, and the sound of Lexa laughing made her heart stir for the first time in months. It was overwhelming.

She took a small step forward, her hand raised, "Miya."

Lexa stood and closed the remaining distance between them in a few slow steps. She gently lifted Clarke's face so their eyes would meet, land and sky colliding in perfect chaos, "Yu tombom dula laud." Lexa whispered.

"Ai fir raun," Clarke admitted almost silently.

"Of what?"

Something overcame Clarke in that moment, with Lexa's eyes seeing into her soul and her hands caressing her face, Clarke felt safe. She felt loved. So Clarke followed her heart for once and leaned forward, placing her lips against the commanders.

Her eyes fluttered shut as Lexa overwhelmed all of her senses. Her hands softly traced Lexa's back and hips as their lips continued to move together. Their foreheads were pressed together and they giggled when their noses would brush against each other's. Lexa's lips were smooth and soft and Clarke was quickly becoming lost in the feeling of them.

They parted slowly, neither girl wanting to end their perfect moment. They continued to lean into each other, their foreheads resting together as Lexa rubbed small circles into Clarke's hips.

Lexa was slightly worried, Clarke had yet to open her eyes and her lower lip was quivering.

"Klark?" She asked softly.

When no response came, she tried again, "Klark, beja. Open your eyes."

When blue clouded her vision, Lexa scanned for any hint of regret, she found none. But she wasn't comforted as tears made their way down pale cheeks.

"What's wrong, Clarke?"

It was the brilliant smile that graced Clarke's features that finally put Lexa's worries to rest, "Nothing." Clarke laughed as she threw herself into Lexa's arms, "Everything's perfect."

Chapter Text

The doors burst open and Clarke sauntered in, armor on and ready for battle. Lexa had to admit she was surprised, she wasn't expecting Clarke's interference during this meeting. This was either about to take a surprising turn for the worst, or she was about to have to stop a war.

Clarke stood boldly in front of Lexa. Her chin high and fear erased from her eyes.

"I am here to speak for myself, Commander. I can explain my own journey for those who wish to crucify me."

Lexa raised an eyebrow and nodded her permission, so Clarke turned to face down the ambassadors.

"Ai laik Wanheda. Ai nou don kru. Ai laik sleya kom Maun-de, ripa kom mounon. Who questions me?"

The ambassadors looked between each other, waiting to see who would be the most daring, who would be the first to directly speak against Wanheda.

"I do."

Clarke narrowed her eyes as the ice queen herself, Nia of Azgeda, stood from her chair and met Clarke's steely gaze head-on.

"I do not believe the tales I have been told of you. I know my fellow ambassadors question you as well, though they are too cowardly to speak up. I, however, am not. How are we supposed to believe you are who they say you are? That you have done the things you claim? And if these legends are in fact true, how are we to know that you pose no threat to the thirteen clans and the coalition?"

Clarke took a deep breath, psyching herself up to drop her defenses and relive her past in front of these people. It was something she'd realized she needed to do last night after a particularly haunting night terror. She'd been out on the balcony watching over the peaceful city in the moonlight.

She wanted to stay here in Polis, could herself making a home here. So, she needed to convince the people in power to let her stay, that she was an asset. Maybe then she could truly begin to heal.

As she began to bear her soul, she felt Lexa come to stand behind her, and though she knew the other leaders would see it as her validating Clarke's words, she knew Lexa was doing it to show her support. As she spoke, she made sure to make eye contact with each ambassador, but she couldn't bring herself to look at her mother.

"I was imprisoned on the Ark at the age of sixteen after ai nontu was put daun for natronanes. He knew that Ark was dying and was trying to tell the public. He told me of his plans and I was also arrested for natronanes. Before my eighteenth birthday, Chancellor Jaha sent the hundred to the ground.

When Onya sent Trikru to eliminate us, we had to fight back. But, oso na don laik gonakru. I burned three hundred warriors alive, at the expense of my own kru being taken by the Maun-de. After seeing what the Maunon were doing to the clans, I escaped with Onya. She was killed upon arrival at the Skaikru camp. I vowed then to take down the mountain, no matter the cost.

I killed my lover, Finn Collins after he was sentenced to death by a thousand cuts for the murder of eighteen TonDC villagers. He did so in my name.

After that, Heda and I made plans to demolish the mountain. We were seeking justice for our people, and the plan would have worked, but the Maunon offered Heda a deal."

Clarke took a shuddering breath, knowing that this was the beginning of her memory that she hadn't made Peace with yet. She closed her eyes and felt Lexa place a light hand on the small of her back, Clarke nodded to herself. She could do this.

"If Heda took the deal, her kru, your kru, would be released from the Maun-de. All she had to do was take her army and walk away. So she did.

Refusing to let my people continue to be held within the mountain, I found another way to infiltrate their defenses and I killed every last one of the Maunon. I leaked radiation in and over three hundred and fifty men, woman, and children burned in front of my eyes. Their screams echoed off of the walls, but all I could think about was getting my people out."

Clarke risked a peek at her mother, and she wished she'd had the control not to. She saw so many emotions on Abby's face and saw the tears building in her eyes. She turned to stare down the ice queen then, everything she'd just told they already knew. This was the part that counted.

"I couldn't return to Skaikru trap and face what I had done, so ai don raun we. I laid down my title and I left to face my demons. I starved myself at first, didn't sleep at all, but nothing worked."

Clarke unconsciously ran a hand over the scars by her ribs. She'd tried to kill herself, that was something she had yet to tell anyone. When Lexa had found her in the cave and she'd spoken of killing herself the next morning, she meant it. But she hadn't shared that that would be the third time she'd have tried.

The scars blended enough into the panter's that if you didn't look close enough, you wouldn't question it. But those two angry parallel marks weren't from the panter. They were the reminder of two failed attempts of piercing her own heart. Self-preservation had won both times.

She shook her head of the memories and continued on, ready for this to be over so she could retreat back to her room, "I went back to the Maun-de. I pulled each body outside and wiped the blood from the walls. I gave each of the dead a proper burial and for every gona I build a pyre.

I wasn't the same person after that, and I left any friends that I had made and retreated to a small cave on the border of Azgeda. I nearly lost my mind. I would have, if Heda hadn't come for me.

She brought me here to Polis.

I am here.

I am Wanheda.

Death bows before me and the dead follow me.

Does anyone question me further?"

Chapter Text

The room remained cloaked in silence as the ambassadors sat in shock, absorbing all that Clarke had told them. It was the bare minimum of what they needed to know and that was all she was willing to give. They didn’t need to like her, she just needed to win them over enough to let her stay. She didn’t have anywhere else to go.

“If no one has any further grievances to take up with Wanheda, then I declare this meeting of the coalition finished. I’ll see you all tomorrow where we will discuss other matters. You are dismissed.”

The ambassadors slowly rose and bowed to Lexa and spoke lowly, “Heda.” before filling out of the room. Abby was the last to leave, trying to get Clarke to meet her eyes, begging her little girl to talk to her after all this time, but the blonde’s gaze remained fixed on the floor. Abby sighed and left defeated, the guards shutting the large doors behind her and leaving Clarke and Lexa alone.

Once everyone had left, Clarke cracked. Her shoulders sagged and she let out a shaky breath, her hands trembling as she lowered herself to a sitting position on the steps of the dais. Lexa followed her down, pulling Clarke into a tight embrace and resting her chin on top of her sunshine hair.

“I’m sorry I interrupted your meeting.”

“Shh. You need not worry. You did well, hodnes.”

They stayed like that for a while, Lexa holding Clarke and Clarke letting herself be held as her emotions waged a war inside her body. She wanted to break down and tell Lexa everything, how every mark on her body was made, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She hadn’t accepted her own story yet and knew that until she did, no one else would be hearing it.

Lexa gazed out the window as Clarke was lost in thought, determining that the sun was barely highest in the sky. They still had all day left to do whatever they wanted. She’d planned for the meeting to take longer, but Clarke’s interruption and confession had thrown everyone in the room, and Lexa decided it was best to resume the meeting another time and let the ambassadors ponder all Clarke had said.

“What would you like to do with the rest of the day, Klark?”

The blonde broke from her arms and turned to face her, running a gentle hand down her cheek, “Can we go somewhere? Just us? I want to get away for a while.”

“Of course.” And then softer, “Anything you want.”

"Where are you taking me?" Clarke wondered with a small smile on her face as she stared at the playful side of Lexa in wonder.

Lexa chuckled lightly, her commander gear and warpaint gone, her hair bouncing in its natural soft waves as she pulled Clarke along by the hand, slowly maneuvering them through the dense forest, “It’s one of my favorite places, you’ll see.”

It was a few miles later that they broke through the treeline and Clarke gasped, staring forward in awe. Seemingly in the middle of the forest, there was a lake. A large, dark, calm and inviting lake which Lexa continued towards, a smile gracing her lips.

Lexa already had her leather boots off and her toes in the water by the time Clarke broke out of her daze and caught up with her.

“How did you know this was here?”

“I found it many years ago, during one of my trials as a Nightblood. We were to survive in the forest on our own without the help of the other warriors or each other. The trial lasted ten days, and I spent eight of them here.”

She turned to face Clarke, the shorter girl’s wide blue eyes filled with excitement and love, “To my knowledge, no one else in Polis knows this lake exists. Except for me, and now, you.”

Clarke pressed forward and meshed Lexa’s lips with her own, bringing her hands around to tangle in the brunette’s baby hair on the back of her neck with Lexa’s strong hands went to caress her hips.

When they parted for air, Clarke kept her eyes closed, revealing in the free feeling being in the place with Lexa gave her.

“Thank you for bringing me here.”

“Would you like to go for a swim, hodnes?”

Clarke nodded and giggled as Lexa kissed her again before turning away to strip down to her chest binding and underwear. Clarke did the same and folded her things in a neat pile by one of the trees before meeting Lexa back at the edge of the lake.

She took Lexa’s hand as the brunette stepped into the water, “I don’t actually think I know how to swim..” Clarke admitted, her face turning pink with embarrassment, “We didn’t exactly have the resources or space up on the Ark.”

“Then I’ll teach you.” Lexa soothed.

A few hours passed as Clarke slowly gained her confidence in the deeper water, and both girls filled the clearing with loud laughter and sweet words of affection as they splashed each other and kissed like reckless teenagers.

Once Clarke got tired of treading, they sat in the waist high water and leaned against each other, letting the warm water lap against their bare skin. Clarke tilted her head back and sighed as Lexa leaned down to leave a trail of hot kisses on her shoulder and the side of her neck, coming to a stop and biting gently down on the skin behind her ear.

Lexa ran her hands up Clarke’s side, the blonde having let her control slip a little and straddled the young commander. She paused though, as her hands came into contact with rough lines instead of more smooth, pale skin.

Clarke’s eyes were closed and raised a gentle hand to cup her cheek, asking softly for her to meet her gaze, “Clarke?”

When her favorite shade of blue clouded her vision, she spoke again, “I don’t wish to make you uncomfortable, but may I ask-” she faltered, unable to voice what she wanted to.

Clarke’s expression grew confused, “Lexa, what’s wrong? You know you can ask me anything.”

Lexa sighed, cursing herself because she knew what she was about to do could destroy any and all progress that she had made with the girl.

And yet, she still found herself compelled to ask, “How did you get these scars?”

Clarke sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes widening as they locked with green.

Chapter Text

"I got attacked by a panther. You knew that." Clarke said slowly, praying Lexa would accept that explanation and they could forget about it.

"Clarke." Lexa breathed, "Panther's don't have six claws."

Clarke didn't want to talk about this, she didn't want to ruin the day they'd shared together, but she also couldn't deny Lexa the truth.

"No. They don't."

"Were you attacked?"

Clarke couldn't bring herself to say the words, so she let the girl underneath her make her own theory.

"No." She whispered.

"Did you injure yourself while escaping an attack? Or defending from one?"

She shook her head, her hair falling in front of her downcast eyes, "No."

"Clarke, please." Lexa asked gently, "I fear what my mind tells me is far worse than what the truth may be."

Clarke released a shuddering breath and clenched her eyes shut, "Do you remember," she began, "the night you found me in that cave?"

"Yes." Lexa answered, her brow furrowed, "Of course I do, but what does that have to do with this?"

"I told you, that I planned to end my life in the morning. I wanted peace from my past and the things I'd done."

Clarke looked up to meet sorrowful forest eyes, "But you never went away," She smiled as a few tears slipped from her eyes, "You were real. And so I didn't need to die to have peace because you brought me that peace, Lexa."

"Clarke I-" Lexa shook her head, her green eyes wide, "I still don't understand, Hodnes."

Clarke nodded and closed her eyes once more, allowing the sensation of Lexa's warm skin and the cool water surrounding them to calm her. She breathed in and out, feeling Lexa's fingertips tracing the jagged scars on her body with the most care she'd ever experienced.

"I tried to kill myself." She whispered, her voice barely registering against the soft waves lapping at their skin.

She heard Lexa gasp, "Clarke-"

"Twice." She interrupted. She knew if she didn't get this all out of her now, she may never have the courage to.

"I took a blade, and I slid it into my skin at the perfect angle to avoid the ribs and puncture my heart. But self-preservation has been beaten into me since the moment my boots touched the ground, so I couldn't do it. It took the blade out and stitched myself up with some random wire that I had."

Clarke opened her eyes as Lexa's hand traced down her cheek, strong fingers grounding her to the brunette.

"The second time I came even closer. I was going completely mad at that point. I didn't have food, I couldn't sleep, I started seeing everyone I'd ever hurt. They would yell at me and taunt me until I would do anything just to make them go away.

So, I tried to die again. I took a longer blade, made a deeper incision. I could feel the metal in my body as I breathed and all I had to do was flick my wrist and it would all be over. But, I couldn't do it. And I had to drag myself to a trading post in Azgeda and have Niylah heal me because I was so close to the edge of death.

And here I am." She finished lamely with a simple shrug.

Lexa didn't say anything right away and it only served to spike Clarke's anxiety. She knew she shouldn't have said anything.

"Lexa I-"

"You. Are. Remarkable." Lexa whispered, caressing Clarke's cheek.

The brunette pushed forward and covered the blonde's lips with her own, vowing to only ever write poetry across her pale skin from this moment forward. Clarke deserved nothing less than everything she could give to her. She could only hope the blonde would continue to accept her love and adoration in this life and the next.

They helped each other dress slowly, fingers tracing delicate skin in simple and utter adoration before entwining their hands and beginning the trek back to the tower. It took them about an hour to get back, and it seemed their absence was hardly noticed aside from an angry Titus waiting for them in the throne room pacing, but Clarke figured that was a pretty usual occurrence.

"Heda," Titus spoke as soon as the doors shut fully behind them, "Where have you been? The guards did not know where I could find you and a scout said he'd seen you leaving the walls."

"I was out." Lexa replied simply, "I took an afternoon away with Klark."

"Heda, I mean no disrespect, but you should have informed the guards so they could protect-"

"I am perfectly capable of protecting both myself and Wanheda, Titus." Lexa snapped, once again seated on her throne with Clarke standing at her side.

"If I wish to leave Polis without any warriors then who are you to question my actions?"

"Moba, Heda, but you must see reason-." Titus bowed his head, upset at being scolded for only trying to warn the young leader.

"You say you do not wish to disrespect me," Lexa's voice was quiet and both Titus and Clarke were forced to focus solely on the brunette to capture her words, "so I suggest you leave before I take any more offense to your words."

Titus sighed, standing, "Sha. Heda." He quickly turned to throw a short glare at Clarke, "Wanheda."

After he'd stormed from the room, Lexa grabbed Clarke's hand and pulled her onto her lap, the blonde following her lead obediently. Lexa wrapped her arms around the shorter girl and rested her chin on Clarke's shoulder.

Clarke giggled as Lexa's breath tickled her neck, "Why do I feel like this is something we shouldn't be doing?"

Lexa hummed, placing a kiss on Clarke's collarbone, "No one will be granted permission into this room without my consent. We're fine."

"I know that. I just meant, I mean-" Clarke moaned slightly feeling Lexa's teeth against her throat, keeping her train of thought was becoming increasingly more difficult.

"I promise, Klark. We're safe here." Lexa whispered breathily.

Clarke shook her head with an exasperated sigh and leaned in to meet Lexa's soft lips. She giggled and Lexa smiled triumphantly, briefly halting their affections before. Clarke knew that she'd made the right decision to come back with Lexa.

Polis would heal her.

And Lexa would love her.

Chapter Text

Clarke was up early the next morning, something feeling strangely foreboding settling deep in her stomach. She rose from the tangle of furs on the bed she now shared with Lexa every night. The young commander was still sleeping peacefully and Clarke smiled as she watched the serene expression on her face.

She crossed into the bathroom and splashed her face with some cool water from the small basin in front of the slightly cracked mirror. She stared at her reflection as she knotted her hair into a quick messy braid and then crossed back into the bedroom to slip on some tight black pants and a loose grey top.

She exited the room as quietly as possible, wanting Lexa to get plenty of much-needed rest. She passed some of the Ambassadors in the halls and they all nodded to her with respect in their eyes. She waved good morning and smiled at the guards on duty as she passed by to get outside.

The sun was just peeking over the horizon as Clarke began walking through the near-barren marketplace. She took her steps slowly, simply enjoying the crisp morning air as it greeted the waking city of Polis.

She came to a stop and the now familiar vendor and knocked three times against the side wall, getting the attention of the girl in the back. Larkin peeked her head around the fur separating the front of the stand and the back inventory, a bright smile immediately lit up her face when she saw who was waiting for her.

"Klark!"

Clarke smiled as well, happy to see the young girl again, "Shanen dayon, Larken."

"Shopta?" Larkin wondered.

Clarke smiled and nodded appreciatively, "Toli os, mochof."

"What can I get you this morning?"

Clarke furrowed her brow in concentration as she scanned the various fruits laid out before her. Some she'd come to love, and others she detested. She wasn't sure she wanted to try some of them by the way they looked.

"Just an apple today." She decided, placing a few coins in the girl's hand as she handed Clarke her breakfast.

Larkin thanked her and wished her well before turning back to her inventory. Clarke did the same before making the rest of her trek to the training pits, taking bits of her apple as she went and almost moaning at the taste. Food on the ground was so much better.

When she reached the pits, she tossed her apple core into the woods and moved to the racks of training weapons open for use. She picked a double bladed staff and walked into one of the many open rings. She was alone in the pits for now but knew it would only be a matter of time before others woke up to join her in morning training.

She closed her eyes to center her mind and relaxed each of her muscles, knowing either a tight stance or a distracted mind would most likely cost her in battle. She opened her eyes and focused only on what was, not what could be; distractions could be fatal.

She adjusted her stance keeping her feet spread apart and practiced flowing her movements together by sliding her feet from one stance to another instead of lifting her feet to step in an attempt to keep her balance stronger. She kept her posture straight but loose and began to swing the staff around her body in a simple series of attacks and blocks.

She did that a few times before switching to a more complex series, relishing in the stretch of her muscles and the fluidity of the transitions. She wasn't quite used to the perfection of these weapons yet, amazed at the grounder's blacksmithing skills as the metal in her hands slid gracefully through the air. She'd really only used guns and makeshift weapons, though some of the skills did thankfully translate.

"I didn't know you were so good at that." Came a familiar voice from the sidelines.

Clarke paused her movements for only a moment, glancing over her shoulder at the newcomer before refocusing on her training.

"Mom." She acknowledged.

"You haven't said more than a few words to me since I've been here."

"I didn't have anything to say, didn't know what to say. I still don't." Clarke defended as she continued her movements.

"How about explaining where the hell you've been? You were gone for months, Clarke! No word, no trace left behind. I didn't know if you were alive! I woke up in the infirmary asking for you only to be told that you were missing!" Abby exclaimed, exasperated.

"I wasn't missing, mom." Clarke argued, her attacks became more frantic and disjointed as she became more upset, "I left. There's a difference."

"But why did you leave? There was no reason to, we won!" Her mother yelled in frustration.

Clarke turned and threw her staff, one of its blade embedding itself precisely in the tree next to her mother's enraged figure.

"I left because I committed the genocide of an entire population! I left because I didn't want to be found! I wanted to die!" Clarke screamed, her face turning red in her fury.

The world seemed to hold its breath as Clarke and Abby stared at each other. Abby's heart broke for her daughter and Clarke sighed as she seemed to physically deflate.

"Mom-" She tried, her voice small and tired.

"No, Clarke. I understand." Abby nodded in her direction, tears in her eyes, and walked away.

Clarke watched her walk away and sank to the ground, the dusty pit covering her pants as she pulled her knees to her chest, leaning her forehead against her knees. And it was there, on a bright morning and surround my empty training pits, that Clarke wept. But for once, it wasn't for other people, Clarke wept for all she had had to do, and all she had given up, and all she had lost.

Wanheda laid in the dirt and wept for her existence.

Chapter Text

When Lexa found her later that morning, Clarke was back to training with a controlled expression. She didn't need every warrior in Polis to see her breakdown after a petty argument with her mother, so she'd schooled her features after a few minutes and picked up her staff once again.

"It always surprises me how good you are at that. I forget sometimes." Lexa admired as she observed Clarke's movements from just outside the dirt ring.

Clarke shook her head slightly, "I'm not nearly as good as everyone else. They've been trained for this since birth. I have a lot of catching up to do."

Lexa stepped into the ring, sliding one arm around Clarke's waist and holding the other over her hand, "You give yourself no credit, Hodnes," she whispered into the blonde's ear as she guided their movements into a more advanced pattern, "Each of my warriors has had top instructors appointed to their individual needs since they were but a young goufa, but you, Clarke, you taught yourself far more than that just to survive. Everyone in this city respects you. You have nothing left to prove, to them or to me."

Clarke snuck a quick glance around, not used to having Lexa be so outwardly personal and affectionate with her. And sure enough, the few warriors that were training around them kept glancing at them with confusion and a strange look that Clarke couldn't quite place.

"Everyone's staring, Lex." She mumbled.

"Let them," Lexa dismissed, continuing to lead their movements in complicated, graceful arrangements, "They are smart enough to mind their own business."

Clarke giggled quietly and a small smile came over her features, "Okay."

"What's so funny, Clarke?" Lexa scolded lightly, "Training is a serious matter."

"Sorry," Clarke said as she managed to suppress her laughter, "It just feels odd to have you like this. It feels kind of like we're dancing, in a strange way."

Without warning, Lexa paused and Clarke turned to face her with concern and confusion, fearing she had shattered their content bubble, "What? What did I say wrong?"

"We never celebrated your return." Lexa's eyebrows furrowed as she realized this fact.

In Polis, any reunion of people was customarily celebrated with a feast throughout the city. Because of Clarke's title, her presence in Polis should have spurred on a week-long festival. But she'd let it slip her mind in her haste to care for the blonde.

"What are you talking about?" Clarke was still unsure what had caused Lexa's sudden distress.

"I should have held a festival in your honor, Clarke. To celebrate the returning of Wanheda to our people. To me." She added the last part almost silently while shaking her head, still upset with her lapse in thought.

"I'll do it at once." She promised earnestly.

"Hey, hey," Clarke guided Lexa's gaze back to her own with a hand under her jaw, "calm down. Everything's fine. We can celebrate or not celebrate. It doesn't matter to me."

"I will arrange it," Lexa swore again with determination, her hands falling to her sides as Clarke turned to face her fully. "I will line the streets in decorations and feasts and dances to honor you."

Clarke blushed, "You really don't have to do all of that." She didn't need some big celebration in her honor. There wasn't really anything to honor her for.

"I want to." Lexa nodded, tucking a strand of Clarke's hair back into her braid.

Clarke stared at her reflection in the old mirror. Her body, freshly scrubbed pink in the hot bath, was beginning to fill out again due to the surplus of available food in the city. Her ribs no longer poked out from her pale skin quite so sharply and her hips were beginning to round out once again. She glanced at her defined muscles, the strength she'd gained in the past months that she'd never needed in space.

She watched as tan, strong arms wrapped around her waist and Lexa's brunette curls appeared behind her, "What are you still doing in here, Hodnes?" Lexa whispered into her ear, sending a shiver down Clarke's spine and pulling her from her daze.

"Just thinking," Clarke replied quietly, watching as their bodies fit perfectly together in the mirror.

Lexa placed a gentle kiss on her bare shoulder and took a stepped back, pulling Clarke by the hand, "Come. It's time for rest."

Lexa led Clarke over to the bed, lifting the soft furs and waiting for Clarke to settle before joining her, letting the warmth the furs provided encompass them. She opened her arms and held Clarke close to her chest as she burrowed into Lexa's neck.

"Goodnight, Lexa," Clarke muttered, placing a lingering kiss on Lexa's pulse.

"Reshop, ai Prisa." Lexa returned as they drifted off.

Chapter Text

"Clarke, beja, sit still," Lexa said in exasperation as Clarke continued to strain her neck in an attempt to see into the mirror across the room, effectively messing up the intricate braids that she was trying to weave into the girl's sunlight hair.

"But I want to see," Clarke wined in a childlike manner, continuing to fidget.

"Enough," Lexa snapped without malice, gently tugging on her the ends of her hair.

"I must finish this before the sun sets," she joked as the morning light slowly trickled into the room through the fluttering curtains of the open balcony doors.

Clarke's movements halted, and Lexa caught her lower lip jutting out slightly from a quick glimpse in the mirror. She leaned forward to place a soft, caressing kiss on the back of Clarke's bare shoulder.

They were sitting in the middle of the bed, furs pushed this way and that from their previous night's sleep. She'd helped Clarke bind her chest comfortably and insisted now was the best time to begin their preparation for tonight's festival.

"Don't pout, hodnes. I am almost done." She said quietly, leaning back to continue her work.

"I'm not pouting," Clarke mumbled as a blush rose on her cheeks.

Lexa slid her pauldron over her shoulder and locked it into place, feeling her body settle under its familiar weight. Hopefully, this meeting would remain relatively short and everyone could go one with their days before joining the festivities later. Clarke paced in front of her throne as they waited for the other ambassadors to arrive, and Lexa knew something specific was on her mind.

"Clarke, your pacing is making me restless. What is the matter?"

Clarke sighed deeply, coming to sit on the steps in front of Lexa and confessing, "I don't know how you do this. I feel like I'm never ready to speak to these people. I am nothing compared to them."

Lexa wanted to deny Clarke's accusations of herself, but knew to blonde would never believe her. Instead, she tried to convince Clarke of her worthiness, "You are lethal, Hodnes, a weapon. Do not forget that. You can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature."

Clarke looked up at her with wonder in her bright eyes, "You really think that?"

Lexa smiled as the guards entered the room and announced the arrival of the ambassadors and she nodded for them to enter as Clarke came to stand by her side, "Yes, Klark. They respect you. I respect you."

As the leaders filed in and took their seats, Clarke tried to make eye contact with her mother, hoping to fix whatever tear in their relationship had been made recently. But Abby never entered the room. Instead, Marcus Kane took Skaikru's seat in the coalition meeting and would speak for their people. Clarke bit the inside of her cheek to hold in her frustration; clearly, she was being forced to seek out her mother on her own.

"Good morning, Ambassadors, I trust you slept well." Lexa began, bringing the room to attention.

"Good morning, Heda." They replied with a nod of their heads as they sat in their designated chairs.

"We're here today to finish discussions from yesterday, seeing as Wanheda decided to speak up and answer your unasked questions." She continued. Clarke kept her features smooth and rigid as she felt all 12 gazes studying her. She refused to back down as she met each pair of eyes with a determined stare.

"As you recall, we were discussing the possibility of new trade routes linking Floukru to Skaikru using Trikru as means of passage. There was also talk of Skaikru's plans for the Maun-de." Lexa added the second part reluctantly, feeling Clarke stiffen at her side as she'd predicted the blonde would.

Luna, the Ambassador of Floukru and Lexa's good friend, stood and addressed her. "There is no hesitation for Floukru to trade both materials and knowledge of the land with the newest clan. If Trikru is willing to let out route pass through their encampments, it would lower travel time and significantly lessen the level of danger to all moving parties."

Indra stood, acting as the Ambassador of Trikru, and spoke next, "Trikru is willing to offer full cooperation for this trade deal and will even house the traders for a small gift of materials as they pass through."

Clarke watched surprise flicker across Kane's face, she assumed he hadn't expected the grounders to appeal to his ideas. She also wondered if they were still being referred to as 'savages' back at Camp. She didn't really want to know if she was being honest with herself, suspecting she wouldn't be pleased with the answer.

"Then it's settled," Lexa announced with a small smile of pride, "The route will be mapped out in the coming season and we will set to establish the path this spring."

"Absolutely not!" Clarke burst suddenly, interrupting Kane as he proposed his idea to Lexa and the Ambassadors.

"Clarke!" Marcus chastized through his embarrassment, "Be reasonable."

The blonde bristled at Lexa's side and the brunette was forced to place a restraining hand on her arm to keep her from crossing over to where the Chancellor was standing.

"Chancellor," Lexa addressed calmly, "I would remind you to treat your fellow leaders with respect and thus refer to Wanheda as such."

"My apologies, Heda, Wanheda," He conceded with a bowed head, realizing his slip of the tongue.

"You may continue," she permitted, throwing a quick glance to Clarke and pleading for her to behave.

"Skaikru stands divided. The original children that we sent down here, the ones left alive anyway, feel that the mountain should remain vacant. However, our more mature population wishes to move our civilization into the protected walls of the mountain and continue to explore the technology held inside."

Lexa could sense Clarke fuming and decided that she should get her say since it was she that actually brought the mountain down.

"Thank you for your proposition, Ambassador. Wanheda, you may speak to the matter if you wish."

Clarke took determined strides down the stairs and stood to face the circle of Ambassadors, staring down Kane with a ferocious expression in her eyes that she rarely held.

"Those children that the Chancellor so flippantly referred to were sent down to the ground to die and have survived here longer than his so-called mature population. I led them when we first arrived here and I lead them now. They are not his people. They are mine. I irradiated the Mountain Men, all three-hundred and fifty of their lives stain my hands with blood. The Mountain is mine. Skaikru holds no claim to its fate."

"What do you suggest is done, Wanheda?" The Ambassador from Trishanakru, Rafel, questioned.

"Nothing," Clarke answered with finality. "The Mount Weather shall remain vacant and the fields around it a graveyard. It will serve as a permanent reminder of what happens when a people goes too far."

The remaining Ambassadors voted and though some were wary, they did side with Kane because they were fearful that the tek of the mountain would be turned against them. However, the majority of clan leaders sided with Clarke, and ultimately, she was victorious.

She watched as everyone filed out of the room after Lexa's dismissal, Marcus's dark eyes never leaving hers.

Chapter Text

The entire city of Polis was encompassed in a warm, soft glow as Clarke looked down at it from the balcony of her and Lexa's room.

Strings of small, twinkling lights were wrapped around every stand in the marketplace and candles held in clear glass jars lined each cobblestone street and packed dirt pathway. Any trees that broke up the city's architecture were glistening with vertical strands of lights, giving them the ethereal appearance of glowing willows.

The center square was adorned with long, wooden tables and benches for the feast that would be held in a few hours and the city was buzzing in anticipation of the festival, Clarke could feel it settling in the air the more the afternoon bled into the evening.

She was currently standing barefoot, wrapped in a flowing deep blue tunic and waiting for Lexa to finish braiding her hair so they could apply their ceremonial khol together.

She was surprised at how quickly everything had come together, seeing as Lexa had only brought up the idea one day ago and suddenly, the city was prepared for a weeklong jubilation in her honor. Perhaps the people of Polis had been anticipating her return for longer than she thought seemed to be her only logical conclusion.

"What are you doing out here, ai niron?" Lexa murmured in her ear as familiar tan arms wrapped securely around her waist and a warm body slid behind her own.

"Waiting for you," Clarke teased, turning in Lexa's embrace with an endearing smile, "I thought the next war would come and go before I saw you again."

Lexa hummed in disagreement before she leaned down to kiss Clarke softly, one hand staying firmly on her hip and the other cupped her face. Stepping back slightly, she guided Clarke inside so they could finish getting ready for the festivities.

Clarke gasped, her footsteps faltering as she stared ahead in awe.

Across the bed, Lexa had laid out the most breathtaking gown Clarke had ever seen and she couldn’t help but stop and drink it in. A deep red fabric draped down in flowing, endless layers and Clarke ghosted her fingertips over the soft velvet-like material. Each shoulder was adorned with small, gold plates that layered beautifully and reminded Clarke vaguely of armored wings.

Silently, Lexa picked up the dress and ushered Clarke over the standing mirror in the corner, untying the back of her tunic and helping the blonde step into the flowing dress, leading the way with a trail of slow kisses. She laced the strings tightly and secured them halfway up Clarke's smooth back.

The blonde’s newly forming muscles were proudly on display thanks to the open-backed design and Lexa placed a lingering kiss on the small of the sky girl's back, chuckling quietly and straightening when she heard a quiet gasp from her lover.

"Do you like it?" Lexa asked softly, laying her head on Clarke’s shoulder and letting her arms rest on the blonde's hips, her favorite place to rest them as of late.

Clarke met her eyes in the mirror, a blush once again spreading over her face as she took in the smoldering look in Lexa's forest eyes as the brunette drank her in, "It's breathtaking."

Lexa nodded, her sultry eyes never leaving Clarke's and her voice dropping slightly, "Meizen."

Clarke turned around and pushed herself up against the Commander, diminishing any sliver of distance between them and pulled Lexa in for a long, passionate kiss, "Mochof, Hodnes."

"Pro, ai Prisa." Lexa smiled.

When it was announced to be the correct time, Lexa offered Clarke her hand and nodded for the guards to open the heavy wooden doors of the tower. She led the blonde through the empty streets to where everyone was gathered around a tall wooden stage where a replica of her throne sat.

She told Clarke to stay put at the bottom of the few steps that led to the stage and watched in amazement as Lexa took to the center of attention, all lively drumming and conversation amongst the people instantly ceasing as she sat regally and began to address the crowd.

“My people,” she began in a strong, clear voice, “I would first like to thank you for your cooperation in setting up this festival with such little notice. I do hope it did not disrupt your regular lives too much.”

Clarke saw a small smile grace the brunette’s features as the people laughed quietly and she felt pride bloom in her chest.

“Tonight we are assembled to welcome a guest into our walls. She has not only defeated perhaps our greatest enemy but reduced the threat of another war time and time again at my side. People of Polis, this evening I have to honor of presenting you Wanheda, Klark kom Skaikru.”

As Clarke stepped up onto the stage, bowing in respect before taking Lexa’s outstretched hand and moving to the front of the stage, everyone suddenly roared with their fists raised in the air, excitement and honor surging through the city.
“Enjoy the festival,” Lexa told everyone, “this week is one of great celebration.”

Clarke and Lexa slipped away from the festivities around midnight. By then, everyone was too drunk to realize that she and Lexa had also had quite a bit of ale and weren’t doing so well at hiding their true relationship.

They’d stayed by each other’s side throughout the extravagant meal and even shared a dance as the night continued on, but now they were desperate to be alone where no prying eyes would see them.

Lexa’s rushed footsteps lead them down the halls and soon she was pushing open the bedroom doors and pulling Clarke in behind her. She pulled her in for a long kiss before they’d even made it fully into the room and Clarke stepped back after a moment to catch her breath, her smile growing to match the brunette's.

“Dance with me?” Lexa asked suddenly, leading her further into their room, the music drifting in through to open balcony doors.

Clarke nodded, blushing deeply as Lexa pulled her in close. She let the older girl guide her around the empty space in the middle of the room, her dress dark and billowing in the dim light. She loved the feeling of Lexa’s warm hand of her bare back and her breath on her neck, could think of very few things she loved more.

I love her, Clarke realized in a strong moment of absolute clarity. I love her and I want to be with her for the rest of my time on Earth. I want to marry her.

As the music surrounding them slowly began to change to something faster, they stepped back from one another and simply stared into each other’s eyes, their hands remaining entangled between them.

Clarke was overwhelmed with her emotions for this one particular girl and she quickly decided to close the distance and mesh their lips together.

“I love you,” she whispered when they broke apart.

Lexa released a small gasp and Clarke was worried that she’d just messed everything up. But then, Lexa was pulling her towards the bed and pushing her back into the furs, covering her face in kisses.

“I love you too, Klark.” She whispered before moving to connect their lips once more.

This kiss was different from the others, more passionate and meaningful. Clarke pulled Lexa’s hips into her own and flipped them over, never breaking the kiss. She trailed scorching kisses over Lexa’s neck and collarbone, loving the way the Commander responded to her touch.

“Help me get this dress off,” the blonde whispered huskily.

“Gladly,” the brunette responded with dark eyes and a smirk.

Chapter Text

Clarke was up early the next morning, hesitantly dragging herself from the warm confines of Lexa’s bed and rushing to dress before the girl woke. She tore a piece of parchment from the corner of some papers on the table and scribbled a simple note in charcoal, placing it on her pillow and kissing the brunette’s forehead lightly before slipping out the door.

Go back to sleep. I’ll return soon. All my love is yours. -C

She weaved through the tower halls, nodding a greeting to the few people she passed, mainly guards and servants due to the early hour. The morning air was crisp and carried the scent of last night’s shenanigans. There were several men sleeping haphazardly in the streets and atop benches and tables where the feast had been held. Clarke couldn’t help but chuckle quietly as she passed them.

She meandered to the edge of the city, the quarters for guests and visitors dotting the landscape more frequently as she grew closer. It was in front of a simple wooden hut that she stopped, taking a moment to observe the carved insignia that was expertly crafted and hung on the door before raising a fist to knock.

Clarke’s light-hearted demeanor changed quickly as the door creaked open and the familiar brunette stared her down, radiating leadership and respect even with her disheveled hair and clothes.

She felt her chin rise in defiance as she spoke evenly, eyebrow cocked, “So, you’re sending Kane to deal with me know?”

Her mother sighed and ran a hand through her hair, a habit that Clarke had inherited, “Good morning, Clarke.”

But something deep inside the blonde was still immensely hurt by her mother’s words and actions and she wouldn’t just pretend it had never happened and go back to the way things were before, she couldn’t.

“You clearly wanted me to come to you,” she said motioning widely with her arms, “so here I am. Say what you need to say, Mom, because I’m tired of fighting you.”

Abby sighed once more, motioning for Clarke to step back as she slipped on some shoes and closed the door behind her. Clarke followed silently as her mother led her into the cover of the forest and away from anyone who might overhear.

Once she’d deemed them far enough away, she turned to face her daughter. It felt like she barely knew the girl in front of her. This wasn’t her Clarke. This girl was a product of the ground.

“You left.” She stated bluntly, no emotion seeping into her tone, “Why?”

Clarke couldn’t help but feel like this was an interrogation, that she was being put on trial and facing execution, but she also knew that she needed to be honest with her mother if she wanted to get her back and, therefore, honest with herself.

“I couldn’t bear to face everyone after what I had done. I walked through the mountain after everyone was on the way back to camp, you know? I saw the deformed bodies of the people that I had knowingly pulled the switch to kill. I murdered them, mom. I had to leave to come to terms with that...or not.”

“You said you wanted to die,” Abby supplied, prompting her to explain as a flicker of pain flashed in her brown eyes.

“And that’s true,” Clarke admitted, “For a while, that’s the only option I saw for ending the pain that I was carrying. And then, slowly, I started to teach myself how to live out in the woods and things started to get better again. When Lexa found me surviving in a cave to the north, I decided to come to Polis with her to finish healing.”

Clarke chose to omit some of the more gruesome details of her time in isolation, deciding that her mom didn’t need to know just how dark things had gotten as she got closer to the edge.

“You could have healed back at camp, alongside your people.” Abby insisted, her eyes blazing.

Clarke groaned silently, her stubbornness came from her mother as well, “No, I couldn’t have. I had to go. And now Polis is the right place for me, why can’t you just listen to me and try to understand that?”

“Because you aren’t my daughter anymore, Clarke!” The brunette suddenly exploded, her rage hitting Clarke directly in the chest like a powerful blow during training. “You aren’t the sweet girl that I raised and taught to do the right thing. What happened to the little girl that I remember?”

“You’re right, I’m not that girl anymore,” Clarke confirmed, her voice growing thick as tears built behind her eyes. She knew this was most likely going to be her last conversation with her mother that wasn’t the product of clan politics.

She sucked in a painful breath, “Because you sent that girl down to the ground to die along with ninety-nine other children that were deemed expendable by a council that you were a part of. I am everything that that girl could never be. I’m a fighter, a warrior, a survivor.”

“And it was never supposed to be that way,” Abby whispered as she turned and stalked back towards the city.

Clarke emotions finally overcame her as she shakily wiped the tears from her cheeks. She released an abrupt shout of torment and frustration, her fist coming into hard contact with the rough bark of a nearby tree.

She didn’t react, other than to flinch slightly, as her wrist cracked and the skin of her knuckles split. She sniffled and wiped at her eyes and nose with her sleeve as she turned and started to make her way back to the tower. She wouldn’t break, refused to. Not now.

She slipped silently back into the bedroom, relieved to see that Lexa was still sleeping peacefully, the brunette unconsciously curling herself around Clarke’s now-vacant pillow. The sight caused a content smile to spread endearingly across the blonde’s flushed face.

She crossed the room and entered the bathroom, pulling some bandages and salve from a small crate under the sink. She splashed her torn knuckles with warm water, sucking in a sharp breath at the stinging sensation before massaging some salve into the cuts. She wrapped her knuckles and continued down to her wrist, creating a stable support for the injury.  

As she exited the bathroom and moved to take the note from her bed, Lexa’s eyes peeked open and she groaned quietly at the morning sunlight hitting her face. Green eyes immediately locked onto Clarke’s and her brow furrowed the slightest bit.

“Klark?” She asked, accent thicker with her sleepy voice.

“Good morning, Heda” she replied as she leaned down to connect their lips.

“What are you doing?” She asked with a small yawn, flipping over onto her stomach and laying her head in her arms as her brunette waves cascaded down her muscular back.

“I just had to take care of some things,” Clarke answered vaguely, crumpling the note in her hand and discarding it casually, “But that’s all done now.”

“Are you hurt?” Lexa sat up suddenly, nearly knocking their foreheads together. Her fingers wrapped securely around the blonde’s wrapped wrist, her questioning gaze turning up to her love.

“I’m alright,” Clarke soothed, “Just a misunderstanding.”

“What happened?” Lexa prompted, running her fingertips lightly over the top of the bandages.

“Well you see,” Clarke teased, “There was this tree that was just looking at me the wrong way. I had to show it who was superior.”

Lexa chuckled, knowing Clarke wasn’t going to give up the truth, “Well in that case, it seems that the tree has won.”

Clarke opened her mouth to protest, but realized that on some level, the brunette was right. Lexa watched in amusement as Clarke’s lips turned down into a pout.

“There, there, Wanheda,” Lexa soothed as she kissed the pout away, “I’m sure the tree learned its lesson. Now,” she pulled gently on her arm, “come back to bed.”

Clarke smiled, settling down and pulling Lexa close to connect their lips once more, “Sha, Heda.”

Chapter Text

The crash of one wooden staff connecting with another was the only sound heard echoing throughout the small clearing. The novitiates watched in amazement as Clarke and the Commander fought, unsure who exactly they wanted to cheer for. Even with the bandages wrapped firmly around her wrist, Clarke’s movements were fluid and far more graceful than they had been just a short time ago.

Lexa couldn’t help but be impressed, though she knew Clarke to be a quick learner, her skills surpassed all expectations of a young warrior. Every time she thought she had the blonde beat, Clarke would manage to turn the match back in her own favor.

She watched each flicker of Clarke’s expression and when it became clear that Clarke’s injured hand was beginning to cause her discomfort, Lexa offered a truce and called for the Nightbloods to pair up and begin sparring on their own.

She offered the blue-eyed girl her hand and led her to a large, smooth rock where they could rest and still keep a keen eye on the young fighters. She turned her head to kiss the top of Clarke’s as it fell lazily onto her shoulder.

“Are you ever going to tell me why you took your anger out on a defenseless sapling yesterday?” She asked quietly, observing Aden’s form before calling out to correct the position of his feet.

“I fought with my mom,” Clarke whispered sadly before explaining further, “to make a complicated discussion simple, I’m not her daughter anymore.” She cleared her throat as her voice grew thick and fresh tears sprung into her eyes along with the growing ache in her chest, “I don’t have a family anymore.”

Lexa sighed deeply and pulled her closer, an arm wrapping tightly around her waist, “You have me.”

Clarke hummed, nodding and turning her face to nuzzle into the brunette’s neck. She placed a soft kiss on her throat, “I know. I love you, Lexa.”

“And I, you, Klark.” The brunette promised.

“What was it like to live up in the sky, Klark?” Ryden, the young Nightblood from the Shallow Valley clan, asked in curiosity.

The children were gathered around her in the throne room. Lexa had been teaching them about the duties of the Commander when she’d been called to an emergency meeting with one of the other clan leaders. Clarke had offered to stay with them until she came back, and nighttime had since fallen.

“It was very dark,” Clarke spoke lightly, attempting to explain her life in space in a way they would understand, “we didn’t have days and nights as you do down here. And it was cold, but not as cold as your winters are. We couldn’t go outside, and we only had what was given to us by our leaders.”

Clarke attempted to paint her time in the Sky Box in a way that wouldn’t frighten them, seeing as that period of her life was the part she remembered most vividly of her time above the Earth, “We were assigned a room in which to live, and I didn’t leave mine very often, but we could have visitors sometimes.”

Not wanting to dwell too long on her special ‘visitors,’ Clarke pushed on, “I had a very good friend named Wells, and we used to play chess together.”

“What’s that?” Another kid asked, Nova from Delphi Clan.

“It’s a game about strategy and planning.” She began to explain, a smile growing on her face as memories of her best friend played in her mind, “You move the pieces in certain patterns until your opponent has no moves left. That’s how you win,” she told them, “and I was very good at winning.”

“Can we play this game, Klark?” Aden asked. Lexa had once introduced him as her most promising novitiate. He was one of the older children and originally from the Glowing Forest Clan.

“Perhaps sometime we can,” Clarke nodded with a small smile in his direction, noting the two younger Nightbloods clinging to him, one in his lap and the other leaning into his side. Even from her limited time with him, Clarke could tell he was the older brother and protector of the group.

Cass slowly made her way over to sit in Clarke’s lap. She was only five and the youngest of the Natblidas in Polis.

“Will you tell us a story?” She asked innocently, her big brown eyes staring up at Clarke.

“Alright, just one” Clarke agreed as the other children cheered and packed in closer to her. She felt Ryden climb onto her back and wrap his legs around her waist, leaning his head on her shoulder.

“A long, long, time ago, there was a little warrior, who lived in a small village very far away with her family,” she began. “And all she ever wanted growing up was to go back to her real home, but she couldn’t. You see, there were some very bad things happening there and it wasn’t safe for her to return just yet.

She had a beautiful mother, who worked very hard for her and their family, and an extremely intelligent father, who loved the little warrior more than anything else in the world. She loved him just as much.

One day, some of the bad men came and they found where she was hiding and they took her father away. There was nothing she could do to stop them, and she felt so helpless.”

The door silently opened and Lexa stepped back into the room, but neither the children nor the storyteller noticed her presence. They were too engrossed in the tale. Lexa looked adoringly over Clarke as she spoke to her Nightbloods. She was good with them and they all clearly loved her too. She leaned quietly against the wall and found herself captivated by the sky girl’s words, realizing quickly the significance of her story.

“The warrior knew that no matter how much she begged or screamed, she would never see her father again. And so she did everything she could to be sent back home to where the bad men were. She lied and she stole and she associated herself with criminals. And eventually, it worked, when the ruler of the land banished the delinquents back to her homeland, she was sent with them.

She vowed to do everything in her power to make her home safe for the rest of her people to come back again too. She fought the bad in the name of her father and struck down every enemy that stood against her, no matter how unlikely her success seemed.

She had a trick up her sleeve to help her, though. Everyone quickly underestimated the little warrior, for she was no longer recognized as the land’s protector. She made sure they paid for their misjudgments with their lives and took back her rightful place.

Eventually, the warrior accomplished her goal, the land was once again safe and prosperous, and her people returned home. The end.”

The Natblidas clapped and smiled, some begging for another story, and as Clarke opened her mouth to respond, a familiar voice beat her to it, “I believe that is enough tales for tonight, young ones.”

Lexa stepped into the center of the room and all eyes turned to her as she continued, “It is late, my Seconds. Return to your quarters and rest.”

They filed out after saying goodnight to Clarke and bowing their heads to Lexa, one of the older boys coming to take the sleeping Cass from her lap.

Once the doors closed behind them, Lexa helped Clarke up from the floor and pulled her into her arms.

“How long have you been here?” She asked quietly, a blush coating her cheeks.

“Long enough to know the truth of your tale. Yet you failed to tell them of the mental anguish that haunted the little warrior far after her people returned to the land.”

“They don’t need to know the gruesome details. It was supposed to be a nice story to fall asleep to. Something happy.”

“Are you happy, hodnes?” Lexa asked seriously then, pulling back slightly to hold Clarke’s face in her hands.

“Yes,” Clarke responded instantly, “I didn’t tell them of the pain, that’s true, but I also didn’t tell them of the woman that came to save the little warrior from herself, that made everything she did seem even the little bit worth it. The woman that I love with my entire being, who makes surviving on this Earth actually mean something.”

She saw the shine of tears in Lexa’s eyes and before she could process anything else, the Commander was one her knees in front of her.

“Lexa,” Clarke gasped softly.

“The last time I kneeled before you, I vowed my entire self to you, the Commander to Wanheda. Now, I am before you as myself, vowing with everything that I am to love you for all of this enternity and the others to come.”

Clarke couldn’t bring herself to take either of her hands from Lexa’s, so the tears building in her eyes freely ran down her cheeks as she stood in awe of the woman before her.

“Klark kom Skaikru, ai Prisa, and ai Hodnes, I know this life is not as you imagined it would be, but I swear to spend the rest of our days showing you how much more it can be. Will you bind yourself to me, Clarke, become ai houmon, my wife?

“Yes,” Clarke whispered, her head nodding vigorously as a few happy sobs escaped her mouth.

Lexa sprung to her feet, wrapping her arms around the blonde’s waist and picking her up, spinning her around as she meshed their lips together. When she was back on her feet, Clarke tangled her hands in Lexa’s waves and pulled her closer, kissing her again and again until their smiles got in the way.

Resting their foreheads together, Lexa’s hands rested on Clarke’s hips under her light shirt, “I am yours, Klark kom Skaikru.”

Clarke kissed her gently once more, “I am yours, Leksa kom Trikru.”