Fleimkepa - Alexis_Payton - The 100 (TV) [Archive of Our Own] (2024)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

Clarke weakly rose from the Antler Throne and silently watched everyone embracing all around her. Some - like Kane and Jackson - seemed distraught at what they’d done under A.L.I.E.’s control. Mostly though, there was a consensus of complete and utter relief among the disorientated Sky People and Grounders, that they’d made it out of the City of Light.

It was finally over.

Clarke wasn’t sure why she felt so numb, when she should’ve been as happy and relieved as they were… Her brows slightly lifted when Octavia abruptly stabbed her sword right through Pike’s torso, instantly killing him.

Nothing.

Clarke felt absolutely nothing at seeing that and chanced a glance at Bellamy who predictably had that look of guilt that hadn’t left his face since she’d reunited with her people. Bellamy had many things to feel guilty about of course; his part in Lincoln’s death most likely topping that list. But it was about time that he realised that Octavia was growing up. That she was allowed to make her own mistakes, just like Bellamy had been making his, regardless of the guidance and acceptance Kane had offered him. Octavia would have to live with what she’d just done, though Clarke could hardly blame her for doing it. Octavia had avenged her lover, her people, all of the death Pike had wrought on both the Skaikru and Grounders since his mutinous rise to power…

Inhaling a shaky breath, Clarke clutched The Flame tighter in her fist, raising it up to hold against her chest where a dull ache had replaced the numbness.

Or maybe Clarke only noticed the ache then?

Lexa had saved Clarke from A.L.I.E. Without Lexa, Clarke would’ve probably been beaten to death on those steps and everyone would’ve been mindless drones wearing trenchcoats in the City of Light in that moment. Lexa had sacrificed – had it been a sacrifice though? Or had it simply always been Leksa kom Trikru’s destiny to be the one Commander who would fulfil the true purpose of The Flame and finally help to defeat the AI who had destroyed the world?

Clarke’s eyes lingered on Murphy hugging Emori. At least that was what Clarke thought she had heard the woman’s name was. John, Emori repeatedly called him while they desperately clung to each other. Clarke let slip a wry smile that he had found someone who finally saw him as John and not as Murphy the Delinquent…

Lexa hadn’t seen Clarke as just a leader to her people. Lexa had respected her as such, but Lexa had seen Clarke. Not Wanheda, Ambassador, or the person who had burned 300 of her warriors in a ring of fire. Lexa had seen her as Klark…

And Lexa hadn’t just been the bearer of The Flame, had she?

Perhaps it had been Lexa’s destiny to destroy A.L.I.E., but the journey Lexa had taken toward that destination, spoke of even more greatness. Lexa had united twelve warring clans, something none of the previous Commanders had been able to do. Save for the Mount Weather threat, there had been peace in the Heda’s Coalition up until the Dropship had crashed on the Ground; up until Thelonious Jaha had gone and discovered an Artificial Intelligence set on destroying humanity for ‘their own good’.

No matter what Luna thought, she would never have won her Conclave. There was no ‘would’ve’ about it. Luna ran where Lexa had stayed on to face whatever was thrown at her. Luna had lost the instant she couldn’t complete the trial.

Clarke didn’t blame Luna for running, though. Hiding during war time because you didn’t want to kill, would definitely keep you and whomever you allowed into your sanctuary safe. But it wouldn’t change the reality of the war still raging on; the one the majority of your people were still bravely suffering through.

It was a reality that Lexa had chosen to face; had fought and bled against. Had overcome. Lexa had achieved peace for her people until the Skaikru fell to Ground and disrupted all of that hard work, blood and sweat; all that hurt and sacrifice. And then Lexa betrayed Clarke at Mount Weather to save her people, because she’d sworn to always place them first as their Heda, and caused those same people to instantly doubt her abilities for not defeating the Maunon herself, despite all she’d done for them.

Lexa had been right back then, when she’d told Clarke that she had done what Clarke would’ve done. Clarke would’ve betrayed Lexa to save her own people had Cage Wallace come to her with that offer. Because Clarke had protected her people when Pike slaughtered three hundred Peacekeepers in their sleep. Lexa knew exactly what Clarke was doing by suggesting Blood Must Not Have Blood in that moment. Peace had not been a new concept to the Commander. Lexa had known the consequences of supporting that stance in the political climate she was under after Queen Nia had planted even more seeds of doubt with the ambassadors.

And still, Lexa had spared Clarke’s people, leaving Clarke to wonder whether it had been to somehow make up for Lexa’s betrayal at Mount Weather. Though she’d sincerely apologised for what it had done to Clarke, Lexa had never apologised for the choice she had made that day. Lexa hadn’t been sorry for saving her people and she’d always advocated peace… So, made in that moment, all Clarke could feel was that Blood Must Not Have Blood, had been an offering from Lexa to Clarke.

One Clarke had eagerly accepted, because she had wanted to forgive Lexa. Clarke had wanted to hold Lexa and kiss her since the second she’d dropped that knife from Lexa’s throat to the floor. But Clarke’s pride had stopped her. Everyone - including Lexa and Clarke - had expected Clarke to be angry. And yet, both Clarke and Lexa had known that though she had been angry, Clarke had mostly been so unbelievably hurt.

But Lexa had sworn fealty to her; had sworn to protect Clarke’s people. And Lexa had done exactly that. Lexa had kept her promise even while the political atmosphere grew tenser in Polis. Clarke had seen the danger; the ambassadors had been scared and angry at Skaikru. Clarke had seen it, had seen how Lexa standing strong and unwavering in the storm, had only made it rage that much harder to shake the unflappable Heda who was daring her people to defy decades of conditioning toward violence.

And instead of just going to demand the Skaikru give up Pike or else - too scared that her mother and friends would become casualties if Pike resisted – Clarke accepted Lexa’s offering and proceeded to bask in the Commander’s soft smiles and longing stares; avidly drawing that beautiful face –

Clarke’s eyes flickered blindly over the celebrating – yet still befuddled - crowd again, wondering where her drawing would be… Whether it still existed. Whether Ontari had burnt it; had looked at it and laughed.

It hardly mattered. Clarke wouldn’t ever forget Lexa’s face…

Though with the threat now gone and her mind free to contemplate the future, all Clarke could see was the past… The black blood pouring out of Lexa’s abdomen and over Clarke’s hands. It didn’t even make sense that there had been so much blood while Clarke applied pressure to the wound.

Clarke wasn’t feeling numb anymore.

Lexa had laid dying and Clarke could do nothing to stop it. Like she hadn’t done anything when she had seen how angry the people had been at the Skaikru not paying for their crimes; at the Skaikru blatantly rejecting the Coalition, disrespecting their Heda and Lexa doing nothing to reprimand them.

Clarke never anticipated that Titus would come after her like he did, but she understood how he had reached that point where he felt that he needed to. Yes, Clarke hated Titus for what he’d done, but she didn’t blame him for doing it. Because while Clarke had been shamelessly enjoying Lexa’s protection - about to return to Arkadia under that same protection - the threat to Lexa’s leadership had grown even greater than usual. The danger had been obvious, and real, and Clarke had done nothing…

Titus had loved his Heda. Titus had tried to protect Lexa from Clarke the only way he knew how to, when both Lexa and Clarke continued to ignore his warnings. Clarke had protected her people with complete disregard to Lexa’s safety. Clarke had been a threat. A proven threat by the way Semet had confronted the Heda after Lexa wouldn’t allow him to avenge the malicious attack on his people; his family. How many others would’ve come for the Commander too? How many of the hundreds of Peacekeepers’ family members would’ve sought their vengeance?

Lexa’s death was as much on Clarke as it was on Titus…

Had Lexa died blaming Clarke too?

Had that been the reason why Lexa hadn’t told Clarke that she loved her back in the City of Light?

Had that been why?

Clarke’s knees buckled and she lowered down onto the throne. Bellamy was instantly at her side, asking her whether she was okay.

No. No. Clarke was not okay.

“Clarke?” She felt her mother’s hands on her cheeks, gently tilting up Clarke’s face for examination. “Tell me what’s wrong? Are you feeling lightheaded? How bad is the pain?”

Abby was probably thinking that Clarke was suffering from side effects of the transfusion, or the insertion and extraction of The Flame into and from Clarke’s spine. How could Abby have known that Clarke’s head had never throbbed so piercingly; that she’d rather cut off her own neck because of the excruciating ache running down her spine, and still, Clarke would gladly bear that, rather than deal with the suffocating agony pressing down on her chest, threatening to break through her sternum and rupture her straining heart.

“Clarke?” Abby asked again, in concerned confusion while she gently wiped at the tears streaming down Clarke’s face as the blonde visibly struggled to breathe.

Clarke blinked, trying to see Abby, but only managed to stare right through her, because there was no more running to be done. No more enemy to fight. Clarke didn’t have any mission to focus on; to distract herself with.

“Clarke, Honey, please talk to me...” Abby was starting to panic, likely suspecting neurological damage, so Clarke opened her mouth to reassure her mother that she was fine, but all that came out was a lowly rasped:

“Leksa died…”

Clarke helplessly stared up into her mother’s comprehending face and fell into her embrace the instant Abby’s arms opened for her.

Eventually noticing that everyone had left her alone with her mother - leaving the red and black stains all over Lexa’s Throne Room behind - Clarke got up and walked them to where she’d stayed while she’d been a guest in Polis. Though upon remembering what had happened in there, Clarke steered them to a different room on the Heda’s floor.

It was strange that that room had been the only private space Clarke had known since landing on the Ground. Strange and comforting, because that was what Lexa had offered her, even after kidnapping Clarke: a safe space to think and decide whether she would help the Heda or not. Lexa had given her the option to leave Polis and go back home with her mother. And when last had Clarke Griffin had any options? It had been do or die, unless the Heda had been near to protect her; to believe in her. That room - the quiet and comfort after three months in the wild - had been a sanctuary more than a prison, even while Clarke had stewed in her rage and regret… Now it only made her sadder that she wouldn’t find the same solace in there ever again.

So Clarke mindlessly wallowed in her grief, while Abby took care of her.

Clarke felt guilty, because her mother had been through hell too, but god help her, Clarke needed to be taken care of. She didn’t need or want to be strong anymore. Clarke just wanted to completely break apart for once. So she allowed Abby to suture and dress the wound at the back of her neck; to bathe her, barely noticing the two girls entering as the same ones who had called on Clarke while she’d been Skaikru Ambassador in the Heda’s Coalition.

She was dressed in a nightgown, of the ones Lexa had had made for her. Clarke just slipped under the furs, pulling Abby down with her, knowing that her mom probably wanted to go check on Kane, but Clarke wasn’t ready to let go yet.

Kane was alive; he’d still be there in the morning.

Clarke would never see Lexa again. Yes, Lexa’s consciousness was still in The Flame - maybe - but unless Clarke found another Nightblood to permanently hook onto her side and share blood with so that The Flame wouldn’t reject her body, she was certain that she’d lost Lexa forever.

And with that thought, Clarke started sobbing all over again.

It was the early hours of the morning when Clarke woke, thirsty and with a throbbing headache. She quietly got out of bed as to not disturb Abby who must’ve been exhausted after everything she’d been through.

It was amazing how easily the staff in Lexa - the Heda’s – Tower had fallen into their old positions and routines, Clarke thought when she found the same jug filled with water that had appeared in her room every night when she’d stayed in Polis before. She gulped down a glass, before pouring another and leaving the room with it.

No guests ever stayed on the Heda’s floor; no ambassadors… But Clarke had. Her gait slowed when she passed Lexa’s room, not daring to wonder at the state it was in. Not wanting to look because the image of blood covered furs still haunted her dreams, instead of the sweet memories of soft lips and touches caressing her body…

So Clarke passed that room and continued on, up the stairs and toward the Throne Room.

She wasn’t sure why she went there, relieved that the bodies and clutter had at least been cleared out, though it still looked nothing like it had done when Lexa still sat on that Antler Throne, ruling over her people.

Clarke didn’t even flinch when she found Indra standing next to the throne, covered in bandages, but still standing like Clarke never doubted the warrior woman would be after their ordeal. Indra stared vacantly at the empty seat, and Clarke abruptly realised that Indra – honour and duty bound – had blindly followed Lexa, not the Heda.

“What do we do now?” Clarke murmured, walking closer; staring at Indra because it hurt too much to look at those antlers.

Indra let out a puff of air and stepped out onto the balcony.

Clarke followed, grateful for the cool crisp night invading her lungs. They stood in silence for a moment, staring out over the thousands of torchlights glittering down below, where the people were waiting to hear news on what they should do now after their lives had been flipped upside down.

“Though there have been many Commanders, there has always been a Commander.” Indra finally murmured. “They are waiting for an announcement of a successor.”

Clarke nodded. She didn’t have to say that there was no one. Luna was the only one Clarke could think of and she doubted that she could even find Luna again, let alone convince her to take The Flame.

“The Heda’s home has always been Polis, and for decades, those who lived here ensured that their clan would prosper above others. They would send assassins throughout the lands to kill any Natblidas, because those they didn’t kill, would come to kill them for their power. Or clan leaders would assassinate the current Heda and send their Natblidas to fight in the Conclave in hopes to have their clan be elevated by an Ascension…”

Clarke listened avidly, this wasn’t what she’d seen of Lexa and the Nightbloods while in Polis.

“The Commander before Leksa had been Azgeda as had been the Commander before him. A ruthless warrior, but a puppet of Nia’s. He had grown weak from of a fever after carelessly neglecting a wound and was assassinated in his bed.” Indra sneered. “Leksa had lost her family during Azgeda’s seizure of Trikru lands. Onya found her though and took her as Second even before she realised that Leksa had been Natblida. We hid that fact away. Leksa would only train with Onya, myself and Gostos. We could not risk the other’s seeing what she was. We taught her everything we knew and when that Heda died, we sent our Leksa to take part in the Conclave.”

Indra’s smile was bittersweet and Clarke felt like hugging her, or being hugged by her, but she stood silent and still, intently listening to the story of Leksa kom Trikru.

“I never knew much about Titus the Fleimkepa. Only that he had been Trikru once, but had dedicated his life to serving the Heda in Polis, like all the Fleimkepas before him. He took to Leksa instantly. You have met her, so you know, even then we could all see that she was special. That she would bring change. We of the Trikru had been proud even before Leksa won her Conclave and Ascended to become the next Commander…”

“So the Nightbloods never lived here, like Aden and the others had…” Clarke stated more than questioned.

“Being born with Night Blood was most surely a death sentence back then. Leaders would reap children from their parents, train them in secret until the next Conclave. Like Nia had done with Ontari. Those who hid to avoid fighting, without training for the inevitable, never made it passed the first round. So Leksa sent word that those who are willing, will be taught in Polis. She didn’t scour the clans for more, but welcomed those Natblidas the clans willingly sent, or whose parents had abandoned them because of their blood and the burden that came with.”

Clarke swallowed thickly and thought of Aden again, how he had imitated Lexa and had promised to protect Clarke. Lexa and Titus had fostered a group of young people, any of whom would’ve been great leaders to the Coalition because of their tutelage. Through teaching them the Three Pillars of a being a Commander, Lexa had sought to ensure that the Coalition would survive no matter whom of her Nightbloods Ascended. That had been why Lexa had been content at the thought of her death. She’d had faith in all of her students.

“What will happen now, without Leksa holding this Coalition together?” Clarke asked.

“The people will return to their homes; spread the news that there is no Heda and therefor no Coalition. Some will undoubtedly come to claim the throne even though they cannot take The Flame. There will be war for power, just as there had always been, before Leksa kom Trikru had made us stop.”

Lexa’s legacy of peace would be destroyed. Her home would be destroyed even more so than it already had been.

Clarke couldn’t have that happen, so she resolutely turned to Indra.

“I have an idea.”

“Clarke!” Abby exclaimed from the doorway of Clarke’s new Polis bedroom.

Clarke’s head instinctively snapped toward her mother and she instantly felt a smack on her bald head in reprimand.

“Ouch, Indra! Jeez.” Clarke hissed, petulantly glaring at Octavia seated in front of her, chuckling heartily.

Octavia had of course gone in search of Indra after killing Pike, finding the Chief of Ton DC nailed to a cross in the streets. After how Octavia described Indra’s state and injuries, Clarke couldn’t believe that Indra had been standing that same evening after Octavia and Nyko had patched her up. Okay, maybe she could believe it. It was Indra.

“I will write my name on your head if you don’t remain still.” Indra lowly warned, before continuing to tattoo the various symbols of the Circle of the Flame on Clarke’s newly shaven head.

Clarke just sighed and remained staring forward, bracing herself when she heard the door click shut and her mother walked further into the room until she was in front of Clarke, staring at her with wide horrified eyes.

“Your hair…” Abby rasped, as though she was mourning Clarke’s blonde tresses.

“Will grow back.” Clarke murmured, focused on keeping still. She was very sure that Indra didn’t know how to write, and didn’t want to end up with strange doodles permanently fixed on her skull.

“But the tattoos…”

“Are for the people.” Clarke softly answered.

It wasn’t just for the people. Clarke needed to do this for herself too. The symbols meant something to her. They were an oath.

“They need to know that the Commander’s legacy lives on. That The Flame still exists.”

“The City of Light is destroyed… We no longer need The Flame…” Abby countered.

Clarke blindly reached back to take hold of Indra’s hand, removing it from her head to stare up at her mother.

“The people never knew about the City of Light, hell, they’re still not sure what exactly had happened to them. The Flame’s true purpose never mattered to them. Heda mattered. What Leksa had achieved had nothing to do with The Flame or the City of Light. The Commander is dead,” Clarke’s breath hitched, “the people need hope now that everything won’t fall apart; that the wrong person won’t assume power; that we won’t all be in the middle of yet another war soon.”

Abby’s lips parted as though to argue against it, before her gaze grew sombre and she let out a long suffering sigh.

“I thought you would come home and finally just enjoy your life.” Abby lamented.

“Yeah, I did too…” Clarke murmured, relaxing back, so that Indra could continue.

Clarke adjusted her robes, briefly shoving her hands into the deep pockets to feel for The Flame in one and the surgical set in the other. Comforted that the items were still where they had been two minutes ago, Clarke reached out to take the Journal of the First Commander from Indra.

She had needed a moment to catch her breath, because the elevators were still destroyed and it had been a long way down.

“Ste yuj, Fleimkepa.” Indra softly encouraged.

Clarke weakly nodded and anxiously walked out onto the balcony on the third floor of the Heda’s Tower. She squinted into the hot sun beating down on her shiny bald head, and knew that she’d been spotted when the crowd of thousands, instantly hushed.

Clarke nervously clutched the book to her chest, this could still go so very wrong.

“People of the Heda’s Coalition!” Clarke’s voice croaked and she had to clear her throat before continuing. “The City of Light has been destroyed.” There was first a murmur as people translated and sent back word to those who couldn’t hear, before wild cheers broke out. “Heda Leksa kom Trikru had helped us defeat our enemy.”

Some of them had been there. Some of them had seen it through the collective consciousness A.L.I.E. had created; seen Lexa leaping through the air with her dual blades and protecting Clarke… Those who had been struck down by those blades would’ve spread the word. The servants in the Tower were certainly already buzzing with talk of seeing their Commander who had died come to life again to protect Wanheda. Again.

“Our Heda had welcomed Skaikru into the Coalition, the usurper Pike has paid for his crimes against the Coalition with his life.” Clarke felt Octavia straighten on her right. “Skaikru remains loyal to the Coalition and will assist in rebuilding Polis.”

The people had grown quieter, only a hushed murmur echoing throughout those gathered. They didn’t trust Skaikru, and without really understanding how, they knew that Clarke had entered the City of Light and saved them, so Clarke hoped that that would help things go smoothly.

“Titus kom Trikru, Fleimkepa to the Blood, leader of the Circle of the Flame, had chosen me as his successor.”

That got their attention again, though Clarke was sure they’d gathered as much already from the tattoos on her head that would probably start scabbing and itching soon. They also knew that she had had The Flame inside of her at one point, the bandage visible at the back of her neck served as both proof and reminder, and that elevated Clarke enough to be listened to.

In their eyes, Clarke had Ascended like all the previous Commanders had done.

“He bestowed on me the secrets of the Ascension!” Clarke clutched the journal tighter to her chest. “And as Fleimkepa, I vow to keep Polis a city where all clans may come to in peace and mutual respect. I vow to uphold the tradition of guiding and teaching any Natblidas who enter here and call upon the clans to send their Natblidas to us, to be trained in preparation of the next Conclave, where the victorious warrior will Ascend to become Heda to our People!”

Clarke shakily removed the tin from her pocket, holding The Flame up so that it reflected as a blinding light to the masses, who instantly fell to their knees, and Clarke blew out a relieved breath, happy that no matter what had happened to them in the City of Light, the people still believed. Perhaps now so more than ever, they needed to cling to what made them Grounders, instead of the complete loss of agency and strangeness that had befallen them in the City of Light.

Consistency and familiarity. Clarke hoped it would be enough to keep the people calm until the next Commander was chosen.

“Hofli keryon kom Heda na fleim au ona oso ogeda!” Clarke shouted, valiantly fighting the burn in her eyes and the tremble in her voice.

May the spirit of the Commander burn within us all!

“You can’t be serious about this, Clarke.” Bellamy muttered, arms folded across his chest while he stood next to her, frowning at their people packing up and getting ready to head back to Arkadia.

Jaha wouldn’t be leaving though. He’d been placed on the Cutting Tree at Clarke’s command, as the Fleimkepa had final say over everything that happened in Polis until the next Heda Ascended. Some – very few - argued that Jaha had been under the influence of the chip and deserved a pardon just like everyone else. Clarke argued that Jaha had listened to A.L.I.E.’s plan, agreed with it, and had then taken the chip voluntarily, where many others had been manipulated and forced into taking it. By him. He had also clearly been the leader of A.L.I.E.’s army and everyone knew that it was the leaders who paid for any battle they lost.

So Clarke let the people have Jaha. Blood Must Have Blood, because what else was there to do when so many still waited for Wanheda to choose her own people over them? Clarke would just have to show them that they were all her people now; that she would protect them like Lexa had protected the Skaikru.

Jaha had paid the price for his actions. A price that would’ve been demanded had Clarke not offered it in hopes of absolution for Skaikru’s part in the events that had unfolded. She knew that A.L.I.E. had had Grounders working for her too, but it had been an army mainly consistent of chipped Skaikru who had ascended on Polis – packed with Grounders who had arrived to witness Ontari’s Ascension -, crucifying and torturing everyone in their path.

Polis was already being rebuilt around them though. The majority of survivors, however, had left the capital to return to their respective clans. Clarke was surrounded by a small compliment of guards, having sunk into their roles as though they’d never stopped being the stoic pillars that had guarded the Heda’s Tower.

“I am.” Clarke finally answered Bellamy, her eyes flitting over her surroundings to find Murphy and Emori.

They’d asked to stay in Polis. Emori had joked that she had experience running a stall, and Murphy just shrugged and said that Clarke owed him for stealing his job as Flamekeeper. Clarke couldn’t remember seeing two people exude such a contented calm as those two when in each other’s presence, even while their haunted eyes glinted with a touch of mischief and promise of mayhem.

So of course Clarke had said yes, because she needed to see that hope around her, even while it left a bitter taste in her mouth.

She was human after all.

“Then I’ll stay too.” Bellamy resolutely stated, gaining her attention again.

“No.” Clarke deadpanned.

Octavia would be staying for now. And though Clarke hadn’t said anything yet, she was gearing up to somehow declare Indra the new Commander if they couldn’t find any more Nightbloods. Which meant that Octavia would probably not even leave Polis for Ton DC, which was a lot closer to Arkadia and would’ve permitted Bellamy to perhaps see his sister more frequently. Maybe. Clarke still wasn’t sure if the Blake siblings’ relationship would ever recover from Lincoln’s death. Lincoln’s murder.

“No?”

“You helped murder three hundred sleeping Peacekeepers.” Clarke blankly murmured. “Your presence here would just remind everyone of what Skaikru had done.”

“Clarke…”

Clarke sighed and turned to look into his distraught face. She couldn’t truly judge Bellamy for what he’d done, given all that she had done, but Clarke needed to say something. She couldn’t confront him before because Clarke had needed him to stay focused on destroying A.L.I.E. and yes, he was her friend, but when he was feeling emotional, Bellamy didn’t care about anyone other than himself. He lashed out without thought of who he was hurting and which causes he was jeopardizing.

“Our actions have consequences, no matter our motivations or intent…” Clarke husked. “We make our choices; our mistakes, and we can pretend that they never happened or we can admit that we’d been wrong and attempt to set right the harm we’ve caused…”

Bellamy nodded, eyes watery and Clarke wondered when last a day had gone by that Bellamy Blake hadn’t cried.

“Leksa,” Clarke’s breath caught over the name and she cursed herself for thinking she could say it without it stabbing at her heart, “Leksa and I had been bringing the Skaikru – the Coalition - peace… Had Pike not slaughtered Indra’s army; had you not helped him…” Clarke trailed off, her hands clenching into fists. “They were sent to protect you from Azgeda, Bellamy. Leksa would’ve taken them back to Polis with her, because the Queen was dead, and the threat to our people gone… The army would’ve been gone too had you just waited a few more hours… If you hadn’t attacked them for no apparent reason…”

“Clarke…”

“Had you just been the man I thought you were…”

Both Clarke and Bellamy were silently crying now as they stared at each other.

“Had I not pushed for Blood Must Not Have Blood and maybe supported the blockade sooner… forced you to give up Pike…”

Clarke sniffed and wiped at her cheeks.

“ALIE would still have been a threat… But maybe a lot of good people would’ve been spared…” Her eyes shifted to Octavia, pretending not be listening in on the conversation. “We made a few big mistakes, Bellamy.” Clarke thickly swallowed and Bellamy clenched his jaw, rapidly nodding. “But we’re gonna try and set things right.”

Another firm nod.

“So go back to Arkadia,” Clarke murmured, smiling sadly when his head snapped up, “go help rebuild. Support Kane as Chancellor. Protect our people and show the Grounders that we aren’t the monsters we’ve become to them.”

Bellamy slowly looked around them, at the once great capital of Polis and its streets now literally stained red with blood, before his eyes rested on Clarke again.

“And this is your penance?” He asked, seeming to finally understand. “Staying here?”

Clarke nodded, her hand going into her pocket to gently run a thumb over The Flame.

“Ai laik Fleimkepa. Ai dula Polis op, badan oso kru op; badan ai Heda au.” Clarke softly murmured to herself and stared up at the Heda’s Tower, wondering what she’d gotten herself into now.

I am the Flamekeeper. My duty is to Polis, serving our people; serving my Heda.

Chapter 2

Chapter Text

“It’s been almost a year, Indra!” Clarke shouted, running a hand through her shoulder length hair, ready to pull it out strand by strand.

“I have told you already, Fleimkepa, I will not become Heda.” Indra calmly replied from where she stood in front of Clarke who was standing in front of the Heda’s throne; the Antler Throne that had remained vacant since Clarke had last sat in it after waking from the City of Light.

“Our people are dying…” Clarke went into her second phase of trying to guilt Indra into accepting.

“I’m not Natblida.” Indra patiently reiterated for the umpteenth time. “You know as well as I do, that the people will not accept me as Heda, even if I had wanted the title.”

“Maybe you should just place The Flame into the old guy…” Octavia offered from her place on Indra’s left.

Somehow Octavia Blake had managed to grow into a woman over the past few months. She’d been embraced by the Trikru and found her balance under the consistency and discipline Indra provided. There was little trace left of the girl who couldn’t understand responsibility and sacrifice, and had been recklessly self-righteous in her responses to conflict.

Octavia had grown into an adult, while Clarke remained in the Heda’s Tower, having helped rebuild Polis, only to have the clans – predictably – start warring amongst each other when no Heda had been chosen within the first six months. Polis was spared though, because some still saw Clarke as Wanheda, but mostly because she had helped to save the majority of them from the City of Light. Clarke didn’t have an army, but she was heavily guarded and the people of Polis remained loyal to the Fleimkepa and the Spirit of the Heda she guarded with her life.

But even if the war hadn’t reached Polis’s boundaries yet, Clarke had opened her gates to the first influx of refugees seeking asylum and had soon run out of space to house everyone. All around Polis, small refugee camps had popped up. Clarke sent food when she could. The Trikru and Skaikru also sent supplies whenever possible, but it was becoming increasingly dangerous to travel anywhere outside of Polis and thus difficult to continue searching for Nightbloods and sharing resources…

Thus far, Clarke hosted a father, Mikah, and his two-year-old Nightblood girl, Milah, and an eighty-three-year-old man named Ephraim, a former Wastelander who hadn’t even known what he was for the first few decades of his life. He’d discovered it only when Lexa had formed her coalition and safe passage between clans had become the norm. Ephraim had made ‘friends’ who, after Clarke had sent out the call for Natblidas to come to Polis, had captured him and forcibly taken him to the capital.

He was too old though, and too sickly. Clarke had him comfortably situated in a lovely room with a nursemaid to assist him in living out the rest of his life in peace… The people would accept red-blooded Indra before they did him. They needed a strong Heda to put a stop to this stupid war.

The ambassadors – the few who’d survived A.L.I.E. - had all left Polis to re-join their respective clans. Unsurprisingly, there was no longer a Coalition without Lexa keeping them all together. The clans instead have either been gearing up to invade or to defend against invasion from those seeking to expand their territories.

Clarke would be able to convene them again though, because they would certainly come if they heard news of a new Heda Ascending and then they would instantly cast a vote of no confidence in Ephraim. Too many of those idiots still held hopes that their clan would reign superior over all the others.

It was a senseless power struggle that not every clan supported, but if they didn’t fight - didn’t defend - they would be bulldozed by the larger clans and their resources and lands would be seized.

It was lazy warring, for the sake of warring and Clarke was tired of it.

“Ephraim will not be Ascending.” Clarke sternly answered, and Octavia’s eyes twinkled at her, but she said nothing. “We have one choice left.” She murmured, looking to Indra. “The refugees outside of Polis are starving and I can’t continue feeding them at risk of my people here. We need to find a Commander, and we all know who that needs to be.”

Indra ducked her head and sighed, so Clarke turned to Octavia.

“You’ve been keeping tabs on her right?”

Octavia nodded. “Murphy and Emori’s info always pans out. The Flaudonkru won’t capture her themselves, but the war’s moving closer to them, so they won’t stop us from searching within their boundaries…”

Clarke nodded sagely, the Flaudonkru were one of the clans sending supplies to the refugees.

Clarke met Indra’s eyes again.

“You need to find her and bring her to me, whether she comes willingly or not.”

Both Indra and Octavia clearly didn’t approve of using force in this particular instance, but circ*mstances were getting worse by the day. They weren’t in a full on war yet, but the Azgeda were already asserting their dominance; expanding their armies and would most likely be heading to Polis soon to take the throne by force.

“Sha, Fleimkepa.” Indra nodded, spun around and walked out.

Octavia sent Clarke a small reassuring smile over her shoulder and went after her mentor, to do as instructed.

Three weeks later and Clarke was standing in her small study, the surgical set of the Flamekeeper laid open in front of her on a large desk. Clarke had replaced the rusty old instruments with help from her mother, and every week she would polish each and every one, placing them back in the newer cloth with the old Commander badge she’d carefully stitched onto it.

Clarke had also polished the flat rectangular tin until the odd skull design on the top lid had worn off, leaving only gleaming metal behind. Inside, she’d placed the same red material that Lexa’s Heda-Cape was made of and had gently laid The Flame into it.

It had become a soothing task: cleaning and polishing her Fleimkepa kit. At first, Clarke had softly murmured things to The Flame as though Lexa could hear her. And one day, when Milah and her father had shown up in Polis and Clarke had no idea what to do about making a little girl Heda, she’d shouted at The Flame; shouted at Lexa for not answering her; at Titus for being the worst shot in the entire world...

Clarke had screamed and cursed until she had cried, because she felt guilty that her very first instinct had been to place The Flame in Milah, just for the off chance that Lexa would somehow be able to communicate through the toddler and tell Clarke that she was doing the right thing. Or tell her how to stop this war from destroying all of them.

Clarke didn’t talk out loud to Lexa anymore, but she still handled The Flame with the utmost care. She gently refolded the surgical set. The few who knew about it, thought that The Flame was in there too, - just as Titus had stored it – but Clarke preferred to keep it separate – always on her person – just in case someone tried to steal it.

No Flame meant no hope, and the few people still resisting the war would finally be forced to join in on it out of fear of losing everything.

Finished with her task, Clarke settled herself on a couch and tried to immerse herself in the words on the yellowing pages of the history book she was reading, hoping to forget her worries. A knock on the door disrupted her though and she swiftly pulled her robes up across her shoulders to cover her nudity, expertly clasping the hooks down the middle back together. Reluctantly, Clarke pulled the neck piece over her head too.

It was hot, the robes were hot. But Clarke had grown her hair back and the people seemed to find solace in the Fleimkepa, so Clarke intended to look the role as much as possible.

“Come in!” She called out, and lifted a curious brow when she saw Octavia.

“We’ve got her.”

Clarke hurried toward the Throne Room where she greeted everyone calling on Polis. Mostly it was people pretending that they were Natblidas, or ambassadors coming to shout at Clarke to do something about getting them a Heda, or making the leader of their respective clans Heda, despite them not being of the Blood.

Clarke really wished that it was that easy, because then she would obviously make Indra Heda and the heavy burden she had placed on herself would instantly lighten.

Her guards and Octavia followed after her as Clarke stalked into the room, robes swishing as she glided toward the dais and spun around to face her prisoner: Two guards held the figure down on her knees; Indra stoically standing sentry over a mass of dark curls covering a bowed head that snapped up when Luna noticed Clarke’s arrival.

“Should I remind you of what happened the last time you attempted to force The Flame on me?” Luna sneered; and if looks could kill…

Clarke swallowed thickly, making sure Luna’s hands were securely bound behind her back.

“Leave us.” Clarke croaked, because she still wasn’t sure that Luna wouldn’t kill her for kidnapping her.

Clarke just hoped that Luna’s vow to cause no harm still held strong after all this time.

Indra sent her a wary look, but Clarke just nodded that she was sure. So the leader of the Trikru left with the guards, smirking and shaking her head when Octavia walked forward and took position behind Clarke’s right shoulder. Clarke resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She knew that if she told her to, that O would leave, but with Octavia at her side, Clarke felt considerably less frightened of what Luna might do to her should she escape her restraints.

She watched now as the Natblida slowly got up off her knees and onto her feet.

“I won’t take The Flame.” Luna defiantly straightened her spine.

“The world is at war.” Clarke rebuked, feeling her anger grow. “While you hide away, people are dying.”

“They choose war.” Luna stated.

“No. A handful chooses war and the rest of us suffer it!”

“This is not the life I want. I won’t kill to serve your agenda.”

“But you’re fine with innocents dying?” Octavia retorted, sneering in distaste. “Your inaction is what’s causing hundreds of deaths!”

“It is my choice.”

“You aren’t half the woman Leksa had been.” Clarke lowly accused. “She wanted peace and she got peace. What have you done for your beliefs? You think abstaining – hiding – is going to change anything? Do you think this war wasn’t going to find you? Like the previous one found you? What had passivity helped you then, Luna, other than having you lose your husband and half the people who trusted you to keep them safe?”

Clarke wasn’t even surprised when Luna launched toward her: “You brought war to my people!!” Luna cried, eyes furious and wild; her pain and sorrow seemingly still as raw as Clarke’s was.

Octavia swiftly and surprisingly gently, restrained Luna, carrying her a few feet back, holding her in place until the Natblida calmed and stiffly nodded that she wouldn’t attack again. Octavia let go, but remained at Luna’s side this time, looking at Clarke.

Clarke hadn’t meant for it to turn into a shouting match, but she was beyond frustrated and getting desperate.

“Leksa’s legacy is what keeps Polis safe and away from this war. Her actions led to the respect and reverence of the people, instead of just fear. If Polis has a Heda on the throne, someone to unite the clans once again, someone to stop certain individuals from attempting to rule over everyone, I’m sure that there will be peace.”

“You expect the war to just stop? For those greedy for power to just give up?” Luna sceptically smirked as though Clarke was an idiot.

“No.” Clarke honestly answered. “Those types of people will always exist. They will always be a threat to lasting peace. Right now we just need numbers; a few of the clans to back the new Heda; To stand together against this war. Slowly, – like Lexa had done – we’ll have thirteen ambassadors in the Capitol once again, working together toward a better – peaceful - future for our people.”

Luna’s eyes slowly ran over the robes Clarke wore, and then up again to meet the Fleimkepa’s gaze.

“No.” Luna said. “I want no part in this.”

Clarke clenched her jaw and wondered how long Luna would fall if she threw her out the window.

At first she’d respected Luna’s decision, after all, Clarke had taken three months – would’ve probably been longer if Roan hadn’t found her – to just shut out the messed up world. Now though, Luna’s actions just seemed utterly selfish when the fate of thousands depended on it.

“I will welcome your people in Polis, where they’ll be safe.” Clarke started negotiating, watching Luna perk slightly, but still not biting. The Flaudonkru were being targeted for their fishing boats, able to feed the armies that had left their crops behind in their villages to die of neglect. “As Heda, you wouldn’t have to kill anyone, you wouldn’t even have to give any orders…”

Luna raised a brow and smirked again. “So you would rule in my stead? Is that your true ambition here, Wanheda?”

Clarke chuckled bitterly; she hadn’t missed that particular honorific at all.

“As Heda, you will be able to change the laws – traditions -, like Lexa had done with Blood Must Not Have Blood. Like she had brought Natblidas here to foster, teach and train to give them their best chance in the Conclave and to ensure that whoever won would place the Coalition first. You can have the Coalition be ruled as a democracy by the ambassadors of the thirteen clans, all you would have to do is choose wisely who you allow in it. Declare that the next Conclaves wouldn’t be to the death… You can change what you despise about this entire system, Luna. And then you can get back to hiding from the real world, while others, more brave and strong than you, sacrifice their happiness for their people; for peace.”

Clarke held Luna’s glare unflinchingly. They stood staring at each other for what felt like ages before Luna finally spoke again:

“No.”

“You think you’re the only one who’s had to kill people they cared about; innocent people because it seemed the only choice at the time?” Clarke sneered, hating how easily she could still summon up that guilt. “You think I don’t understand that the real reason your hiding is because your brother’s death still haunts you? You think I don’t know that while you ran from Polis during the Conclave you swore to yourself never to kill again to honour him, because the guilt was eating you alive? That he had trusted you, that you had been supposed to protect him, but instead you killed him? You think that I don’t know that feeling? That I haven’t run too?”

Clarke was still glaring into Luna’s gaze that had somehow turned both hard and yet vulnerable at the same time.

“You think you’re the only one who’s felt like a monster? Who still has sleepless nights out of guilt? Well, you’re not. There’s plenty of us out there. And how we choose to honour the once we’ve lost, the ones we’ve failed, is by trying to make our world a better place. And you can’t tell me that your brother would’ve wanted you to turn your back on your people. Because that would mean that he had died for nothing. You killed him and then you ran away. You could’ve taken him with you, but you only ran after. Once it was too late to take it back…” Clarke trailed off and swallowed thickly, as her eyes prickled with tears while she watched Luna’s streaming down her cheeks.

The Natblida looked seconds away from sobbing or bursting with rage; the emotions were pouring out of her in waves of raw energy. But Luna stood motionless, rigid, yet still so very fragile in that moment.

“I don’t need to have known him to know that putting an end to the Conclave being to the death, and an end to this war, to finally have peace amongst our clans, would be the best way of honouring your brother and husband; of not letting their deaths be in vain. To prevent other brothers and husbands from dying… I know better than anyone what you’re feeling, Luna. Hiding won’t make it stop…” Clarke breathed out and her shoulders sagged, hoping that Luna would understand that Clarke understood. “I’ll give you time to think about it and decide for yourself whether you want to keep on living in denial, in an imaginary world where there’s no pain and regret.”

“Not a day goes by that I don’t feel pain and regret.” Luna murmured.

Clarke nodded sagely. “I doubt it’ll ever go away. Sometimes I can’t breathe when I think about all the death I’ve caused. Especially when one is that of someone I loved so deeply...”

Luna looked up in surprise, perhaps finally seeing that they had something in common, that Clarke actually did understand. That Clarke blamed herself for Lexa’s death even though she hadn’t pulled that trigger, as Luna blamed herself for killing her husband, even when she had no other choice.

“You can honour them by choosing to remain passive, or you can honour them by working toward change.” Clarke lightly shrugged as though either choice would be fine.

It wouldn’t. There was only one choice Clarke would accept, and she hoped that Luna would make the right one this time around.

“Someone very wise, who’d experienced the loss that you and I still struggle with, had told me once ‘that the dead are gone and the living are hungry’.” Clarke murmured, a nostalgic smile tilting at her mouth. “Would you please take some time to consider what I’ve offered, and why it may help us both deal with our loss should you accept?”

Luna looked down to the floor, shoulders slumped and then nodded weakly before she turned her back to Clarke, indicating that she was done talking.

It was a major step up from just plain ‘no’, so Clarke took it as progress, but refused to become hopeful yet. Best thing about Luna was that she wasn’t hungry for power, or bloodthirsty. Luna wouldn’t take advantage of her role as Heda. Clarke didn’t even trust Old Man Ephraim not to do that, and there wasn’t time to teach Milah the Pillars of a Commander and wait until she was old enough to Ascend.

Clarke wasn’t sure whether it would be enough, but she knew that she’d gotten through to Luna on some level at least, so she would give her some time to digest. No good would come out of pushing a woman like Luna further than Clarke already had.

“Thank you.” Clarke murmured regardless, and left the room, instructing the guards to untie Luna and show her to a room, while she and Octavia joined Indra waiting outside.

“We’ll need Murphy and Emori.” Clarke decided, making arrangements to summon the couple.

They gathered in Clarke’s little ‘war room’ like they usually did, a partitioned section in her quarters containing a large table with a map of the clan territories. Clarke had learned a lot from Lexa and she was intent on using that knowledge so that they would have an advantage should Polis ever hold council with the thirteen clans again.

“What’s news from Boudalan?” Clarke asked Emori.

She was a lot more talkative than Murphy, so Clarke always asked her what they’d found. The two seemed to thrive on danger, somehow able to navigate throughout the warzones and always managing to make it back to Polis with the information Clarke needed.

“They’re still loyal, but Azgeda are getting suspicious. So they won’t be sending supplies for the next few weeks.” Emori answered.

Clarke nodded, she wouldn’t let them risk it. Over the past few months she’d gained allies in eight of the Thirteen Clans. The majority yes, but when it came down to resources and warriors, they were still severely outnumbered, even with the mighty Trikru on their side.

Clarke, as Fleimkepa, of course couldn’t be seen to have any ‘sides’. Polis was supposed to be neutral ground and the only concern of the Flamekeeper was to protect The Flame. So Clarke had to rely on information from Murphy and Emori, and on Kane and Indra to hold her alliances outside of Polis. Indra had done wonders as leader of the Trikru, but Clarke wasn’t going to get angry at her again for refusing to become Heda. After all, Clarke did understand that the people wouldn’t stand for it.

Were Indra to become Heda, someone would most likely immediately assassinate her to take her place, since it meant that anyone could now become the Commander of the Blood. So while Indra was there under the guise of negotiating trade between Polis and the Trikru, Clarke tried to make the most out of her presence.

“We still can’t win this war if we directly challenge Azgeda, Delfikru and Ingranrona…” Clarke murmured.

The Azgeda were bred to be warriors and their leader, Solas, had been the Ice Queen’s general. Unsurprisingly, he was the one currently attacking Trikru lands and seemed to have built a wobbly alliance with the Delphi Clan and Plain Riders. Together, just those three clans, outnumbered their eight clan alliance when it came to warriors and food resources. Solas must have a plan of attack by now and Clarke was freaking out.

“Out there, they’ll destroy us,” Clarke continued, the perfect picture of calm even as her mind raced at the implications, “but if we get the ambassadors in the same room, have them swear fealty to the Heda and agree to form the Coalition again, we will have the majority of votes.”

Indra nodded in agreement. If a full blown war were to break out, it would be her warriors at the frontlines, defending their alliance.

“Podakru may stand with us yet. Only last week Azgeda stole supplies they’d been sending to one of their villages.” Emori smirked.

“Well that was stupid of them, why make themselves identifiable if they’re going to steal from their own allies?”

Murphy and Emori chuckled and Clarke tilted her head before her eyes widened in realisation of what they’d done.

“I’m not going to say anything, but be sure to stop by the treasury and pick out whatever you guys want.”

They nodded their heads with large smirks; having things to trade would only help keep them safe on their journeys. Clarke wasn’t comfortable with the danger they so willingly ran into. She would never forget that Murphy had gone back with her to steal The Flame, even when he’d already had one foot out of the escape hatch Roan had shown them to. But Murphy and Emori had each other’s backs and seemed to prefer that it only be the two of them during their missions.

“The Trishana aren’t doing too well cut off from the Trikru.” Indra told Clarke. “Kane said that Arkadia would be harvesting soon and would be able to share some food supplies with them.”

Clarke hadn’t been to Arkadia since the war started. The radio she had was kept for emergencies as she had no means to charge it in Polis and would still have to travel a few miles before she was in range to make contact with the Skaikru. She’d learned from Indra that Lexa’s mother had been from the Glowing Forest, even though her father had been Trikru. The two clans had always held an alliance though, even though the Trishana barely made up a third of the Trikru’s population.

Indra’s deceased husband – captured by the Mountain Men – had also originally been from the Glowing Forest, so maybe she and Clarke had a special place in their hearts for it. Clarke had heard that ‘glowing’ areas, like the one they’d discovered near the Dropship, was commonplace there and Clarke really wanted the war to end so that she could go look at it.

A knock on the door had Clarke swiftly rounding the partition. She was still the only occupant on the Heda’s floor. The guards and staff allowed there were all trusted, but still Clarke walked to open the door instead of bidding whoever it was entry given the current occupants of her room.

She found Luna standing tall and proud in between the Fleimkepa’s personal guards: Riley and Ryder.

“I will do it.” Luna held Clarke’s incredulous stare, not looking the least bit interested in the contents of the room behind her. “In exchange for safety for my people here in Polis.” She added, glancing toward a window as though she’d seen for herself that they would be safe. “And I will not have any part of any wars or decisions or whatever you and your allies are discussing in that room.”

Clarke nodded, holding back her excitement and told Luna and the guards that she was free to go where she pleased. She needed to give a little trust, to hopefully gain a little in return. The guards would still keep Luna out of places she didn’t need to be in.

Clarke closed the door behind her and walked back to her curious allies, fighting the grin threatening to spread across her face. Luna’s guilt over what had happened on that oil rig had still been fresh enough to manipulate. She was a good person; Clarke had counted on the fact that Luna wouldn’t risk losing any more people like she’d done that day.

“We’ll need to send word that in three days’ time there’ll be an Ascension Ceremony and tell the ambassadors and leaders of the Thirteen Clans, that Polis welcomes their return.”

Clarke had read the Journal of the First Commander from cover to cover, numerous times. It was mostly mathematical equations and computer speak Clarke hadn’t a clue about. It also included biographies of the past Commanders and her job as Fleimkepa seemed to only be to protect The Flame and transfer it to the Heda’s successor. The Cleansing and Conclave seemed to have been added over the years to add ceremony to the event, and Clarke hoped – knew – that Luna would make the vicious Conclave at least voluntary after her Ascension. Maybe with an age restriction too, but there were hardly any Natblidas left to be picky about.

What happened once The Flame was inserted, would then be up to the previous Commanders to decide. Or so the book said. When Clarke had taken The Flame, her consciousness hadn’t been transported anywhere like it had been with the City of Light chip she’d taken. But then again, her other duty would be to guide Luna into a state of meditation where she would commune with the Commanders and they would decide whether she was worthy.

Clarke had hoped back then that since Lexa was one of the Commanders deciding this, that Ontari would be rejected, but she also knew that Lexa was one of a kind, and the other Commanders may have commended Ontari’s savagery. It also seemed that quite a few past Commanders had been of Azgeda decent.

Hopefully Lexa would stand up for Luna. After all, Luna was still alive because Lexa had told Titus not to pursue her after Luna had fled the Conclave… Lexa must’ve understood and respected Luna’s decision not to have any part of the Conclave after she’d been forced to kill her own brother.

Maybe, should Luna successfully Ascend, she would make it possible for Clarke to communicate with Lexa… Honestly, Clarke wasn’t sure how it all worked.

What she did know was that it wasn’t healthy for her to be clinging to that hope, but she couldn’t stop herself. After a year, Clarke still wasn’t able to let go. Even after their goodbye in the City of Light, things still felt unfinished between Lexa and herself… It didn’t help either that Lexa’s armour with its distinct red sash hung in Clarke’s closet, safely away from sticky fingers. Nowhere in the book did it say that it should be passed on to the next Heda. It was Lexa’s unique style and Clarke didn’t think she could bare seeing it on someone else.

As Fleimkepa, it was only natural that Clarke kept the armour of the past Commanders as some sort of memorial to them. Clarke didn’t feel comfortable going down to that ‘holy room’ where the other armour still hung. She felt too much like a fake, knowing that the Fleimkepas had been praying to an A.I. for decades, and not the gods they thought they were.

Needless to say, Clarke Griffin was a nervous wreck as she stood in front of the ambassadors of the Thirteen Clans in the Throne Room, next to Luna in front of the dais. Various guards were posted all around, but predictably, their enemies hadn’t come themselves to watch the Ascension, but had sent advisors in their stead. Indra and Kane sat in the half-circle representing their people as leaders, along with the Ambassador to the Boat Clan, who was brimming with pride, even though they had a reluctant novitiate about to become Heda. The rest of their alliance had been too wary – and rightfully so - of what might happen that day, to attend.

Octavia stood close to Clarke, where she had chosen to remain over the last few weeks as the threat grew worse.

Clarke released a shaky breath and unrolled her surgical kit which she had cleaned every day since Luna had agreed to become Heda. She then reached a trembling hand into her pocket and took out The Flame, also placing it down on the table.

After extracting a scalpel and quickly sterilizing it, she turned to face Luna who lifted a sceptical brow, but sunk down onto her knees, regardless.

But then of course the doors to the room would burst open right at that second, wouldn’t they?

Clarke resisted rolling her eyes. She’d been waiting for something to go wrong the entire day, so wasn’t even surprised. She looked at her guards who sent her apologetic and fearful glances, just before a wide-eyed Murphy entered and halted, looking to Clarke when all eyes moved toward him.

Clarke knew that he wouldn’t be interrupting unless it was important, so she motioned him closer. He obeyed and hurried forward until he was close enough to whisper in her ear that there was something Clarke needed to come see before she continued with the ceremony.

Clarke clenched her jaw, heart pounding with nerves, but nodded nonetheless.

“Please excuse me.” Clarke sternly announced with fake yet authentic-sounding confidence as she grabbed The Flame and then glided after Murphy out of the Throne Room, not making eye contact with anyone; Octavia following behind them.

Nobody tried to stop her. Clarke wasn’t a tyrant at all, but she did have a vicious temper, which she was renowned for in Polis. And people still seemed wary of pissing off Wanheda – Commander of Death.

Murphy led her three floors down and toward an antechamber that was hardly ever used, but contained a few couches and ornamental statues and tables.

“I’m not sure what to tell you, Clarke…” Murphy murmured, still looking pale, his eyes a bit wild. “I guess it’s best you make up your mind for yourself. There’s a woman in there who we found trying to get into the Tower, claiming that she’s found the rightful Heda…” He trailed off.

Clarke really couldn’t blame him for interrupting, if this woman was telling the truth and there was another Natblida out there, he would be in even more sh*t if he didn’t say anything before Luna took The Flame. Because whichever clan the woman was from, would immediately scream foul play if they’d been denied audience.

So Clarke entered the parlour and came face to face with a smirking blonde woman, a hooded figure lurking behind her, head bowed. Clarke just lifted a brow as Emori and Murphy stepped outside to guard the door while Octavia closed it and stood next to Clarke, hand resting on the pommel of her sword.

“Fleimkepa...” The blonde greeted and bowed deeply.

Clarke nodded her head in acknowledgement, noticing the cloaked figure still not making a move and her eyes narrowed suspiciously at the inaction. The only thing keeping Clarke relaxed, was that she knew her ‘guests’ would’ve been stripped of their weapons before being allowed into Polis and the Tower.

“How can a Commander be chosen without a Conclave?” The blonde asked.

Clarke thought of Little Milah and Old Man Ephraim.

“You want Luna kom Floudanakru to fight a baby and an old man?” Clarke smirked, dismissing the woman as yet another of the dozens of delusionals who had beaten down her door, claiming to be a Nightblood or that they had a Nightblood.

“No. I had just been wondering.” The woman casually shrugged and Clarke was starting to lose her humour and patience.

“Who are you?” She commanded.

“I am Senna kom Trikru, my father had been Titus kom Trikru; Fleimkepa to five Hedas in his lifetime.”

Clarke’s mouth fell open; taken aback. She’d thought that Titus had been a monk or something; that he’d taken a vow of celibacy… Clarke hadn’t consciously taken that vow, it just happened to work out that way, but she still had a life before becoming Fleimkepa. Senna looked in her mid to late-twenties, so Titus must’ve been a very young man when he had fathered her.

“Interesting.” Clarke dryly responded. “But we’re sort of in the middle of something at the moment, so if you wouldn’t mind waiting until we finished, then we can talk?” She amicably asked with only a slight hint of sarcasm and impatience, because maybe this girl had finally build up the courage to come claim her father’s things that were still in the prayer room Clarke never went into.

“With all due respect, Fleimkepa, after you’ve listened to what I have to say, you will have no need for this ceremony.”

Clarke’s jaw clenched.

“And what is it you have to say, Senna kom Trikru?”

“Rather what I want to show you…” Senna smirked, and something in her eyes filled Clarke with suspicion and curiosity.

Clarke nodded and felt slightly better when Octavia moved closer to her, even as her gut twisted and burned in anticipation.

Senna turned toward the hooded figure behind her and Octavia subtly gripped the pommel of her blade tighter.

Another one claiming to be a Natblida then. Or perhaps finally a real one? Luna was still the better choice because of her complete lack of want for power and war. This person would need to be scrutinized, and if not found worthy, Clarke hoped she could convince Luna to fight in a Conclave. Yeah, that was probably not gonna happen, so this had better be another fake.

“Fleimkepa.” Senna addressed her again with a courteous nod. “May I present to you the true leader of the twelve clans,” she looked to the cloaked figure and Clarke’s heart stopped when she recognised long, slender fingers moving up to remove the hood to reveal a head of beautifully braided chestnut hair.

Leksa.

Clarke felt dizzy when a familiar set of piercing green eyes settled directly on her.

“Heda Leksa kom Trikru has returned to her people.” Senna widely smirked.

Chapter 3

Chapter Text

Those green eyes eventually released Clarke from their hold to impassively glance at Senna, and the world abruptly started spinning again, allowing Clarke to feel Octavia’s hand firmly on her lower back. The touch might have been the only thing keeping Clarke tethered enough to not fall to the ground.

She watched as Lexa – this person claiming to be Lexa – stoically took in the paintings around the room, now that the hood wasn’t obstructing her view any longer. Clarke was only slightly relieved that she hadn’t seen Clarke almost collapsing in shock, or would it have been relief? It hardly mattered though. This was obviously not Lexa. Clarke had watched Lexa die. Lexa’s body had been burned while Clarke fled Polis with The Flame…

Hadn’t it?

Clarke wished that she’d had the strength to look beneath those white sheets that day. Truth be told, the last Clarke had seen of Lexa, was when Titus had carried the Heda out of Clarke’s old room. Clarke hadn’t been able to look when Aden had offered her the chance to say goodbye. Clarke couldn’t allow herself to look back then. Part of her hadn’t been ready to admit her loss and another had known that she would’ve completely collapsed at Lexa’s side, refusing to do what so many people had been counting on her to do. Clarke hadn’t had the time to grieve then. She hadn’t been conditioned to accept death like Lexa had trained her Nightbloods who had remained strong even though they clearly had loved their Heda.

Clarke wished that Lexa had prepared her too. Well, more so that she had listened when Lexa had constantly tried to speak about her death as though she’d been foreshadowing it since she and Clarke had first gotten to know each other.

“What proof do you have that this is Le- the Commander?” Clarke thickly swallowed, focusing on Senna, because the woman with Lexa’s eyes, was staring at her again.

Clarke leant further into Octavia’s hand.

“Do you not see her face, Fleimkepa?” Senna answered with a small smile, motioning toward that face as though Clarke hadn’t already been trying her best not to look at it.

“People can look like others.” Clarke replied, still holding Senna’s hazel eyes.

“I have no other proof than that my father had entrusted her to me and that she bares the sacred symbol on her skin…” Senna explained.

Clarke knew of a way to see whether it was Lexa or not, she just didn’t want to look. She wasn’t sure what she was more frightened of: that it wasn’t Lexa standing there in Polis, or that it was.

“The Commander had died at a time where we needed her most. By Titus kom Trikru’s hand.” Clarke sneered and watched the flicker of guilt in Senna’s eyes. So she knew… Very few knew that the previous Fleimkepa had killed the Commander.

Clarke hadn’t shared the information with the people because firstly, Titus was already dead, and secondly, she hadn’t known how to say that the bullet had been meant for her. Not to mention that it had been a ‘Skaikru’ weapon who had murdered their Heda. If this Senna knew, who else but Titus would’ve told her?

“Titus knew how important Leksa was to the Coalition. He wouldn’t have sent her away; especially not then. And he wouldn’t have killed himself out of guilt at what he’d done, if he knew that she was still alive.”

Senna swallowed thickly, moving closer to Lexa and leaned into the tall sturdy frame Clarke still refused to look at.

“He brought her to me, barely alive after the healers had given her the Breath of Life.” Clarke frowned, thinking of why the healers hadn’t said anything, but then remembered that they’d been amongst those murdered by Jaha and A.L.I.E. when they wouldn’t willingly take the chip. “Nontu didn’t know whether she would make it. All he told me was that Polis needed a Heda and that Leksa was in no state to be that person; that he needed to go back and oversee the Conclave and to let him know if she would live. I had been supposed to meet him, but couldn’t leave her side… He must’ve assumed…” Senna burrowed into Lexa’s side, and Clarke finally looked up into those big familiar eyes that seemed to stare at her as though Clarke was something interesting and foreign that she was considering destroying for hurting Senna.

Ouch.

Titus must’ve believed that Lexa was dead, or he wouldn’t have sent Clarke to Luna. He would’ve taken The Flame back to where it belonged… Then again, with Lexa’s injuries, she would’ve been an easy target for her enemies to take out during what had to have been a lengthy recovery. It wasn’t a surprising thought that Titus wouldn’t have told Clarke that there was a chance that Lexa could live. He didn’t trust Clarke even after Lexa had made him swear not to harm Clarke again.

Or had Titus’s guilt been because of the deaths of the young Nightbloods? He hadn’t just shot Lexa; his actions had led to Ontari killing all of his students. Clarke had seen Titus’s face that day; had seen the guilt and the utter grief when Ontari had sat on the Heda’s throne and had held up Aden’s head…

Clarke rapidly blinked, trying to erase those horrid images from her brain.

“Why isn’t she saying anything?” Clarke sharply asked Senna, unable to break Lexa’s stare.

“You have yet to address me, Fleimkepa.” Lexa confidently answered.

And Clarke’s eyes burned, because that was Lexa’s voice. Lexa’s eyes. Lexa’s face. And still there was something off about her. Something not Lexa.

“You’re not her…” Clarke whispered, a tear running down her cheek. “You’re not her.” She frantically shook her head.

“I know only what Senna had told me.” Lexa softly answered, staring at the wet tracks down Clarke’s face.

“What you told her?” Clarke wiped at her face and glared at Senna.

“She doesn’t remember who she is, but I assure you, Fleimkepa, she is Heda.”

“Amnesia…” Clarke whispered, walking forward on shaky legs. “You have amnesia…” She said again, her heart filling with hope, despite her head telling her not to believe this miracle.

But it would be the only reason that Lexa had stayed away for a year and had allowed the clan wars to continue… That Lexa hadn’t come to see Clarke...

“She had been unconscious for almost a fortnight, and when she woke without memory, I waited for her to remember while she became stronger. I would be waiting still, but we heard the news that a new Heda had been chosen and I decided that we couldn’t wait any longer.”

I decided?

Clarke wanted to shout at Senna that it hadn’t been her decision to make; that she should’ve brought Lexa back the instant she heard they were looking for Natblidas; the instant the war had started; the instant Lexa was healthy enough to move! But Clarke was standing in front of Lexa now, and god, she even smelled the same.

“Leksa…” Clarke breathed, her body trembling; needing to hug Lexa to her, but Clarke was sure that it wouldn’t be welcomed and also terrified that should she touch Lexa, she wouldn’t be real.

Lexa didn’t remember who Clarke was. She didn’t look at Clarke the way she used to...

“May I see your neck?” Clarke whispered and wanted to punch Senna in the face when Lexa looked to her and only conceded a stiff nod, once the other blonde encouraged her to cooperate.

Clarke slowly moved behind the familiar body, leaning in close to take a subtle whiff of Lexa’s hair, before she tenderly brushed the braided locks away and over one shoulder. Automatically, her hand reached up and traced over the scar dissecting the infinity tattoo at Lexa’s nape and bit the inside of her cheek when Lexa lightly shivered.

Perhaps she remembered Clarke’s touch? Or perhaps Clarke’s fingers were just cold, or it was just a general sensitive spot for most people…

“Do you see now, Fleimkepa?” Senna butted into the moment and Clarke reluctantly stepped away from the woman who might really be her deceased lover.

“It proves nothing.” Clarke stubbornly answered. Because it didn’t. People could look like each other, and have tattoos made and linear scars cut into their flesh. Clarke had a similar scar at the back of her neck, after all. One of the clan leaders seeking power could have orchestrated this entire thing to plant this person in the most powerful position on the Ground.

Lexa pulled a dagger from nowhere and Octavia’s sword sang a split-second later, but all Lexa did was cut across her fingertip, showing Clarke the black blood slowly dripping out.

“That only proves that she’s Natblida.” Clarke set her jaw and stared at Senna, because she’d seen enough black blood spilled to last her a lifetime.

“She will defeat anyone in the Conclave and reclaim her rightful place as leader of our people.” Senna confidently proclaimed, smirking proudly.

Clarke’s gaze shifted to Lexa who was calmly standing there, hands now behind her back, intense eyes waiting for Clarke to say something. And Clarke had missed that stoic confidence so very much…

“I know a way to find out whether it’s her or not.” Clarke murmured, licking her lips as her eyes trailed over Lexa’s body.

When she finally lifted her gaze to Lexa’s face again, she found a perfectly arched eyebrow directed at her. Clarke blushed and cleared her throat, causing Fake Lexa to smirk at her reaction.

“Leksa had a scar… On her…” Clarke motioned to Lexa’s behind while she grew even redder. “She’d been teaching Kostia to shoot a bow and…” Clarke lightly chuckled, remembering Lexa’s face when she’d told Clarke about it. It had been on their journey to Arkadia with the Ice Queen’s body. Clarke had been feeling insanely nervous at seeing her people again and Lexa had clearly been trying to distract her. “…Kostia shot her by accident.”

“In the ass?” Octavia snickered behind her, even Senna grinned as she turned to Maybe Lexa who was standing there scowling.

“Who’s Kostia?” Lexa sneered, as though she wanted to ring this Costia’s neck.

Senna looked guiltily at the floor. “I know only what Nontu had told me and what I’ve heard from our people… She had been yours, but had been captured by the Ice Queen and murdered…” She gently explained.

Lexa’s head tilted as though she was trying to remember, and didn’t say anything for a long time before she nodded, casually accepting the information. It just made Clarke feel sad. Strangely so, as there had been a time where Clarke had wished that Lexa would forget Costia, only to spare the Heda the pain and guilt each time her name was mentioned. But Costia was important. Costia was part of what had made Lexa, Lexa.

“You wish to see me naked?” Lexa directed that smirk at Clarke again and just like that, Clarke heated up under her robes.

And it was really a trick question, because saying no would be a lie if this was really Lexa.

“She has the scar.” Senna confidently stated and Clarke almost growled along with the glare she sent in Senna’s direction. “I had bathed her for weeks while she couldn’t do it herself.” She casually offered and fondly smiled at Lexa who was staring at somewhere else, cheeks flushing.

“Good.” Clarke earnestly answered, and didn’t even pretend to not mean it when Lexa looked to her in surprise.

Lexa didn’t know who she was to her, whether Titus never told Senna, or whether Senna chose not to tell Lexa, it hardly mattered. Clarke of course could've asked to see the bullet wound, but she really wasn't sure whether she would be able to handle seeing that...

“I will still need to see.” She told Lexa, stepping forward. “It’s up high, so you can just pull down the left side of your pants.”

Lexa dubiously looked at Clarke for a moment, before she silently took of her cloak, and of course she would be wearing tight black pants underneath... Clarke bit her lip and motioned for Lexa to turn around. Taking position behind her, Clarke made sure to block Lexa from view of the other two women in the room.

Her hands were possessively grasping onto Lexa’s hips before Clarke could stop herself, but she stilled when Lexa stiffened beneath the touch and a knot formed in her throat.

“Is this okay?” Clarke softly rasped, still not moving. She couldn’t, because this was Lexa. Clarke didn’t need a stupid scar to prove it.

But it would be confirmation, no one could replicate a star shaped scar, aged so long ago, in that exact same position.

“Sha, Fleimkepa.” Lexa softly murmured, relaxing only slightly.

“Clarke.” Clarke husked, clenching her jaw while Lexa undid her pants and the hem loosened. “My name is Clarke…” She trailed off, as she gently lowered the hem, tears shooting into her eyes at the scar she remembered kissing while Lexa laughed uncontrollably in a bed of soft furs…

It had been the first and last time Clarke had heard the beautiful sound.

“Klark.” Lexa tasted her name on her tongue and if there had been any doubt left, it swiftly faded after hearing that perfectly unique inflection.

“Leksa...” Clarke choked out, forgetting herself entirely as she wrapped her arms around the woman, startling her.

Clarke could feel Lexa not responding, but she couldn’t care in that moment.

“You’re alive…” Clarke’s body shook as she cried her relief. “You’re alive…”

Octavia had to pry Clarke away from Lexa and she only let go because Lexa was struggling to awkwardly keep her pants closed. They were thankfully too tight to fall to the floor. After fastening them while furiously blushing, Lexa looked to Clarke with a furrowing brow.

“Who…” Lexa started, but then turned to Senna. “Who is she to me?” She asked, eyes hardening with suspicion.

“She’s Skaikru.” Senna replied as though that even remotely answered the question. But Lexa’s eyes flashed with surprise before they narrowed.

“So you’re the one…” Lexa sneered in anger, and why did she have to say those words? Those same exact words she’d said to Clarke the first time they’d met… “You destroyed everything I had built… I had fought for…”

The anger then left as suddenly as it came and instead Lexa just frowned at Senna, leaving Clarke to wonder where the hell Senna had been keeping her Lexa all this time, because the entire world knew that the Fleimkepa was Skaikru.

“Why is a Skaiyon in charge of the Circle of the Flame?” Lexa queried. “You didn’t tell me that she would even be in Polis. You spoke as though Wanheda and the Fleimkepa were two entirely different people.”

“Nontu had chosen her, I believe… At least that is what she has told our people.” Senna sent a suspicious look at Clarke, followed closely by Lexa, smoothly distracting Lexa from her unanswered questions.

And what the hell? Why was she the one suddenly being interrogated?

“Titus entrusted me with The Flame so I could escape with it from Polis so that Ontari wouldn’t become Heda. We agreed that we would search for Luna instead. Because we thought that you had died.” Clarke threw back at Senna, who had moved to stand next to Lexa again.

“The Skaikru had murdered three hundred sleeping warriors sent to protect them.” Senna reiterated words Clarke had thought she was done hearing and watched Lexa pull on her defences and straighten her spine. “They rejected the Heda’s Coalition. They threatened our peace and endangered the Heda’s life. After Semet, a village leader also attacked by Skaikru attempted to kill Heda who wouldn’t do anything to avenge his people; our people,” Lexa stiffened even more, in discomfort this time, “Nontu decided to remove the Skaikru threat that had clawed its way into Polis and in the process he had injured the one person he had sworn to protect with his life.” Senna’s lips quivered and Clarke wanted to smack her, because all of Lexa’s walls had slammed up and because Senna was hardly lying, was she?

“It wasn’t like that…” Clarke whispered regardless.

“It doesn’t matter now.” Senna dismissed, looking to Lexa who was staring at Clarke with an unreadable expression. “Heda is back. Everything will be as it should be soon enough.”

“Yes…” Clarke murmured, searching Lexa’s face, having a million questions about what she could remember, and what she couldn’t. But instead of voicing them, Clarke decided not to overwhelm the Heda anymore than she probably already had. Lexa was home now and hopefully if she could relax, she would remember again; would remember Clarke.

Were Lexa’s memories trapped in The Flame? Would it trigger them should Clarke insert The Flame back into Lexa’s neck where it’s always belonged? Would it do even more damage?

Clarke needed some time to think on a course of action.

“Octavia, please take Senna to a guest room. I’ll show Heda to her quarters.”

Surprisingly, Senna didn’t insist on going with them and Lexa barely acknowledged her ‘friend’ while she stared holes into Clarke’s head as the Fleimkepa lead her to the room she hadn’t been in, in close to a year. She opened the door and held it open, her eyes fluttering closed when Lexa walked passed her to enter at the unspoken invitation.

Clarke lingered on the threshold, watching Lexa’s eyes take everything in. Clarke herself refused to look anywhere else other than at the lanky brunette who walked over to the bed and allowed her fingers to trail over the furs Clarke had demanded be replaced after Ontari had taken the room as her own, even with no Heda occupying it. She’d even insisted that the room be rearranged the exact same way that Lexa had liked it. It had seemed strange then to demand it – almost like building a shrine – especially considering that Clarke had up until that point refused to enter the room herself. She’d even gone as far as to ask Luna to take a different one once she became Heda.

Clarke was nothing but grateful for her insanity in that moment though.

“What do you remember?” Clarke softly asked, gaining Lexa’s attention, staggered all over again at seeing Lexa in this room and alive and Clarke was just dragging out the time until she woke up in her bed, crying and disappointed like had so many times before.

Because this had to be a dream, right?

“I remember what the Commander means to my people.” Lexa murmured, shrewd eyes taking in every detail of the room. “I remember books I have read, but only once I start reading them again... I know of the Natblidas and The Flame,” she looked to Clarke, her mouth tilting slightly at the corners, “of the Fleimkepa...” She lightly smirked with glittering green eyes. “I remember many things, perhaps it would be best to ask what I don’t remember.”

And that was it; that was the difference. Lexa’s eyes had always been expressive when you knew what to look for and when to look. They were stunning, haunted, intelligent, alert… Clarke had seen them alight with unabashed happiness only once… Now though, they were hard and calculating as they’d always been, but they didn’t have that troubled flicker Lexa always had. That flicker that reflected memories of the past. Of Costia, Anya and Gustus. Of the betrayal. Of Lexa’s people and how she constantly needed to brood over how to keep them all safe and counter any possible attacks from her enemies.

“What don’t you remember?” Clarke curiously wondered.

“Faces, names, places...” Lexa’s hand reached up to trace her elegant fingers over the wall of her bedroom. “I may not remember this room, but today is the first time I’ve felt… right… since I woke from my injuries… Things may not look familiar,” Lexa glanced at Clarke again with those eyes that made Clarke’s entire being ache with longing, “… but they do feel familiar… As though I’m finally where I should be.”

The set of Lexa’s shoulders were a lot less tensed, the line down her back less rigid. This Lexa walked around without the memory of her losses and the burdens of her duty. She looked younger, or perhaps Lexa finally looked her age… Clarke almost didn’t want her to remember. But Lexa being here in Polis, when the threat of war was upon them, with none of her memories to guide her through all the politics? Lexa might be in even more danger than before Titus had accidentally shot her.

“Do you remember your training as a Nightblood?” Clarke carefully asked and smirked knowingly when Lexa’s shoulders squared with pride.

I am Heda. No one fights for me.

“No.” Lexa murmured, her voice softer than Clarke had expected. “I don’t remember receiving any training and yet I am a proficient fighter.”

Muscle memory?

Clarke would need to go read up on Memory Loss if she was ever able to tear herself away from Lexa’s side again. She’d seen one book on Psychiatry in the Tower’s library that she hoped held something on the subject. She didn’t want to leave Lexa to travel to Arkadia, but she would send a message to her mother with Kane. They could send someone to Ton DC with the reading material and Indra could then send someone to one of the Refugee Camps and Clarke would then send someone to retrieve it from there.

“You’d been a very proficient fighter.” Clarke rasped in acknowledgement, unintentionally allowing her appreciative gaze to rake over Lexa’s toned frame once again.

She couldn’t help herself; Lexa was alive.

“Who are you to me?” Lexa whispered and Clarke’s eyes snapped up to a confused frown. “I know that I had been shot by accident when Titus had tried to kill you. Senna blames you for my injuries; for her father’s death…” Lexa looked directly at Clarke, no bullsh*tting, just straight out telling Clarke how it was. “Did you kill him?”

Clarke shook her head no and chuckled wryly. “I’d wanted to, when I thought he’d killed you. But I knew he loved you. That he thought he was doing what was best for you… I hated him and still I could see how much what he’d done was killing him… And maybe part of me liked to see him suffer too much to put him out of his misery…”

Lexa nodded slowly while she contemplated Clarke’s words and walked over to the balcony on the far side of the room. Clarke was forced to go further inside, to keep on looking at her.

“Who are you to me?” Lexa asked again, her back to Clarke.

And what was Clarke supposed to answer? Who was she to Lexa now? Who had she been to Lexa then? They had a brief physical affair and yet their relationship had stretched on for months. Somehow it felt like she and Lexa had always been more.

“I’m…” Clarke really didn’t know what to say. Lover. Friend. Mentor. Confidant. Protector. Lexa had been all of those things to Clarke, but what had Clarke been to Lexa? “I’m just Clarke…” She eventually rasped.

Lexa nodded as though she understood, which made no sense, but Clarke was grateful that she was letting it go.

“I need to see Senna.” Lexa sternly requested, as though she was giving instruction to one of the guards.

Clarke was sure her heart was bleeding out in her chest at this point, but she just nodded, unable to say anything lest she shout her love at Lexa again - only to hear her not returning it - and quickly left that room.

Clarke found Octavia standing guard at Senna’s room about twenty floors down. Octavia was still Indra’s Second, but in the loosest sense of the word. Indra had seemed to train Octavia specifically to serve as Clarke’s guard in Polis. Perhaps the eyes and ears of both the Trikru and Skaikru. And since they returned from getting Luna, Octavia had been acting more like Clarke’s personal guard than the close friend she’d actually become.

Clarke instructed her friend to take Senna to Lexa and then meet her on the thirteenth floor after Senna was safely back in her room again.

Clarke then went to inform the ambassadors that there would be no Ascension. They predictably grumbled, complained and mildly threatened to never set foot back in Polis, but Clarke didn’t miss that a few of them actually looked relieved. Like Jon, Ambassador to the Ice Nation.

No Heda, meant that they could of course continue to be warring nuisances.

Kane and Indra were forced to leave along with them, but were thankfully patient enough to wait for information from Clarke. She would most likely meet with them when things calmed in the Tower. She would need one of them to go and calm the Flaudonkru, whose ambassador had been glaring at Clarke with eyes filled with betrayal.

Clarke made sure her guards knew to escort the ambassadors safely out of Polis and then turned to Luna still standing in the Throne Room.

“I can’t tell you yet.” Clarke pre-empted.

“I told you that I don’t want to know.” Luna smirked. “I find it surprising that you would think that this would disappoint me.”

Clarke would’ve chuckled if she wasn’t so stressed out.

“Do my people still have sanctuary here?” Luna asked the only thing she seemed to care about.

“Yes.” Clarke easily agreed. “You have my word, no matter what happens, I will make sure that your people remain safe.”

Luna nodded and left without another word.

Clarke went to her quarters and disrobed, dressing in Skaikru pants and a top before pulling her robes on over that and went down to the thirteenth floor that was basically just empty floor space. Clarke usually jogged in the wide open area, fresh air blowing in through the large openings in the Tower walls.

Octavia entered a few minutes later and wordlessly discarded her weapons while Clarke undressed again. Without any warning or fanfare, Clarke attacked her with a loud scream of frustration.

They exchanged blows and blocks until Clarke was breathless.

She wasn’t the best fighter, but Clarke could at least defend herself and The Flame. Most importantly, she had built up enough endurance to run from her enemies if need be. The sparring had become a way to relieve tension more than anything. But that day, the more she fought Octavia, the more distraught Clarke became, until her vision went blurry and she fell against her friend, Octavia’s rigid stance instantly loosened to gather Clarke in her arms.

“Please tell me I’m not dreaming all of this.” Clarke pleaded into Octavia’s shoulder. “Tell me she’s really back… that she’s really alive.”

“You’re not dreaming…” Octavia rasped, soothingly stroking Clarke’s shaking back.

After crying her heart out on Octavia’s shoulder, like both of them had done once or twice over the past year as they remembered their respective lovers, Clarke gathered herself enough to focus on what needed to be done.

“Thoughts on Senna?” She asked Octavia.

“Don’t trust her.”

Clarke nodded, there was something way off about that one. It made no sense for her to have kept Lexa’s aliveness secret for as long as she had.

“She hasn’t insisted on anything yet, though. Instead she just thanked me for her sh*tty room and followed after me to Leksa’s once you told me to go get her. I waited outside while they spoke for about twenty minutes before she came out again. She seemed a bit off, I think they might’ve argued about something, but she didn’t say anything when I lead her back to her room.”

“The guards know not to let her up on the Heda’s floor without my permission. I really want her as far away from Leksa as possible until I figure out what she’s been convincing her of for the past year. Unless Leksa decides to leave her room…”

“I don’t think anyone would be able to keep her in there if she wanted out… The clan leaders and ambassadors might’ve given her sh*t back then - might still give her sh*t - but the real people love her. They’re not gonna be stupid enough to fight her, or disobey her.”

Clarke nodded. “Riley and Ryder will remain in their spots then and we hope Lexa stays put.”

They were Clarke’s personal guards, inducted into the Circle of the Flame. They only answered to Clarke, not even the Commander. No one would find it strange that they were guarding the Heda’s floor, where the Fleimkepa still resided. Those two would also know not to announce to the world that Lexa was there without Clarke instructing them to. They were allies and have been the gatekeepers who had allowed Indra, Kane and on the odd occasion, some of their other allies, to sneak passed them without batting an eye.

“I need to take care of a few things, will you make sure the ambassadors have left please?”

O just nodded. “I’ve also asked Emori to look into who this Senna person is.”

Clarke softly smiled her gratitude, she would’ve gone to do that herself, not wanting to ask too much of O than she already had.

Octavia just hugged her again, and Clarke had to swallow the lump in her throat. It had been a while since someone had understood her like Octavia Blake did in that moment. The last person who had so effortlessly seen straight passed Clarke’s walls, was two dozen floors above her and didn’t remember what she’d meant to Clarke at all.

Clarke exited the elevator and went to her quarters. She walked all the way to her little war room and to an unassuming dresser standing in a corner. She slid open a drawer, lifted the fake bottom and took out her gun. Swiftly checking the clip, Clarke slammed the fully loaded weapon back into place and hid it in her robes, before coolly leaving her bedroom again.

Chapter 4

Chapter Text

Clarke stood in front of the room on the tenth floor, ignoring a sagely smirking Riley in favour of giving her shoulders a quick shake, before lifting her chin and entering without so much as a knock. The room’s occupant sat up on the bed, but stood after Clarke’s rude entrance and the banging of the door slamming shut behind the blonde’s back.

“Fleimkepa…” Senna managed to wipe the irritation from her features to offer Clarke a tight smile.

“Is the room to your liking?” Clarke absently murmured, making herself at home on the single chair next to the single table; a wardrobe and single bed, the only other fixtures in the tiny space.

“It’s lovely… Mochof, Fleimkepa. My people believe that we can judge others by the way they treat their guests.” Senna bared her teeth in a feral smile, seemingly unable to hold back her animosity any longer, especially given Lexa absence during the altercation.

Clarke chuckled lowly at the insult and casually removed her gun from her robes, placing it on the table next to her. She then sunk back into the chair, crossed her legs, fluffed out her robes and smirked at Senna’s rapidly paling features.

“Who are you?” Clarke coolly demanded.

“I’ve told you who I am.”

Clarke hummed, like she didn’t believe her.

“Are you a healer?”

“No.” Senna answered.

“Then how did you save Heda’s life?”

“I’ve told you, Fleimkepa, the healers here in Polis saved her. Naikou had been among them. They removed the-” Senna glanced at the gun and Clarke realised she didn’t know the English word for bullet, “-the piece that had been shot into her. Then they closed her stomach and her neck. Nontu thought she wouldn’t be safe here while she recovered. If she recovered. And he then gave her to me, to hideaway from her enemies.”

After witnessing what the Grounders could do after spearing Jasper through the chest and keeping him alive with only a poultice made of natural remedies, it wasn’t that far-fetched to believe that they could revive Lexa from a bullet wound to the stomach. Clarke knew of a few people who had survived worse injuries than that. That was why she hadn’t been able to believe that Lexa had been dying, but then Titus pulled The Flame from Lexa’s unconscious body and Clarke had no idea what to think, before he was shouting to the world that the Heda was dead…

Everything had happened so fast…

“So you live here in Polis?”

“No.”

“Where do you live?”

After too long a pause, Clarke placed a hand on her gun.

“I live in Chester… Next to the Big Lake…”

Clarke’s answering grin was vicious.

“So Senna kom Trikru - the daughter no one has ever mentioned - lives in Sangeda territory, on the border they share with Azgeda, and yet on the same night Heda is shot ‘by accident’ she just so happens to be in Polis to swoop the Commander away and ‘save her from her enemies’?” Clarke finished with a sneer.

Senna went quiet, her posture stiff, sweat visible on her brow and running down her temple as she stared at the gun. Clarke picked it up, aimed and drew down the hammer, gaining Senna’s attention again.

“Speak. Don’t think.” Clarke dangerously instructed.

“I convinced Nontu to take me on as an apprentice.” Senna hurriedly started. “I hadn’t grown up with him, and it was the first time I had sought him out. He felt guilty even when he didn’t know about me and agreed that I would start once the Skaikru threat had been taken care of. He taught me a few things while Heda was away at war, but once she was back, he had no more time for me. I had been angry at Leksa at first. I grew up without a father because he was here in Polis. Serving the Commander. But through speaking to him, I learned to love her. I saw her importance and I became patient. I arrived in Polis when the first Sky People burnt through the Trikru villages as they fell to the Ground. I stayed here with Anna kom Floudankru. She takes in travellers.” Clarke nodded that she knew her. “She will bear witness of when I had arrived and that I had stayed here until the night of the Conclave, where Heda Ontari Ascended…” She swallowed thickly, her voice growing heavy with emotion. “When I heard the horn, I took Leksa and ran. It happened too soon. Nontu had told me what to expect. Things weren’t happening as they were supposed to.” Senna had tears in her eyes as she pleaded with Clarke to understand. “I had been scared and didn’t wait to hear from my father…” She was full on crying now as she sunk down onto the floor in a pathetic looking heap. “Ontari was… She would’ve killed us both.”

Clarke didn’t buy the act. She was sure that if she spoke with Anna at the tavern, Senna’s story would check out. But just because Senna had arrived long before Lexa even arrived back in Polis, and left on the night of the Conclave, it didn’t mean that she wasn’t leaving important details out to paint a certain picture.

She was definitely lying about something. Clarke just didn’t know what or why. And yes, she could admit to herself that she was also jealous of the woman’s relationship with Lexa. But that wasn’t what this was about. Well not entirely.

“Do you know how many people I’ve killed?” Clarke casually asked, smirking when Senna’s jaw clenched and her eyes widened, because everyone knew how many people Wanheda had killed. “I’ve done many horrible things to protect my people… Now my duty is to protect The Flame. So if I find out that you’ve lied to me, or that you’re a threat to Leksa or the Coalition in any way, I promise that I will kill you too.” Clarke intently stared into her eyes, so that Senna would know that this was no bluff.

“And maybe I won’t even do it with a gun.” She shrugged. “Maybe I’ll ask my guards to cut you up into tiny little pieces and feed you to the panthers in the forest. Maybe I’ll throw you off the balcony in the Throne Room.” Clarke grinned. “I’ve heard that Leksa really gets a kick out of that. Point is, I can and will kill you whenever I feel like it; make you disappear… It would be as though you never even existed…”

Clarke would kill Senna without a second thought if she were a proven threat.

“Nod if you understand me.” Clarke sternly commanded, stoically relishing in the large gulp that bobbed within Senna’s throat, followed by a quick nod. “Good.” Clarke deadpanned and stood from her seat, placing her gun back into her robes. “Thank you for taking care of Leksa.” She acquiesced and left the room.

Perhaps if that hadn’t been the case, Clarke would’ve killed Senna already.

“It’s like she’s Leksa, but more open and unguarded.” Clarke softly mused. “I asked her to stay in her room and she has, so far, politely making requests if she needs something...” She sighed looking to Indra and Kane who she was secretly meeting with on the border of Polis.

“She will be killed...” Indra instantly understood what Clarke was getting at. Their Lexa wouldn’t have been so accommodating and docile. Their Lexa would’ve already taken control off the situation instead of deferring to Senna and Clarke on what should happen next.

Kane still silently stood and pondered the information as though he had a million questions he was attempting to answer himself, but at least Indra seemed to be taking the news of Lexa’s re-emergence in her stride

“It won’t be long until word spreads that she’s alive.” Clarke lamented. “I can’t keep her locked in the Tower forever.”

Clarke had actually considered doing just that. As well as going ahead and making Luna the Commander and taking Lexa to live in the forest, far away from the numerous people who would undoubtedly be gunning for Lexa the moment they heard the news of her miraculous resurrection.

“They will seek to discredit her. She can’t stand in front of the ambassadors with no memory.” Indra scowled.

“She says being back here feels familiar, but I don’t think just waiting for her to remember is going to do much. All I can think of is that reinserting The Flame might do the trick.”

Both Indra and Kane nodded contemplatively. The three of them weren’t experts on the subject of amnesia and understood what might happen if Lexa were to Ascend without her experience to prepare her for the onslaught that would surely follow.

Deciding that standing around wasn’t going to do them any good - especially when anyone could stumble upon them - they agreed that Indra would return to Ton DC and wait on news, while Kane would inform Abby about Lexa’s situation and send any medical information and advice she might have, to Polis.

Later, Clarke sat polishing The Flame once again, worried whether it would do more harm than good should she place it back in Lexa. Because what if the program had shut down after serving its purpose? The access passcode still worked though. The Flame was still alive – active? -, that’s why she’d been confident that Luna would be able to Ascend. But would forcing Lexa’s memories back into her mind cause more damage?

The world might need a Heda, but Clarke needed Lexa. She wasn’t going to lose her again.

Clarke needed to speak to her mother and Raven needed to examine The Flame. Clarke wouldn’t risk any additional trauma to Lexa’s lovely brain. So she decided to go to Arkadia to have The Flame inspected with the technology they had there and then bring her mother back with her to Polis to examine Lexa. Abby could visit under the guise of being part of the Skaikru delegation, because Polis would be expected to have an Ascension Ceremony soon.

Clarke was hurriedly packing a few things for her journey when a commotion outside her door interrupted her.

Clarke hadn’t thought much about it when she left her rooms, but finding Luna and Lexa staring each other down in the hallway had not been on her list of things to expect. Riley and Ryder were awkwardly standing to the side, clearly not sure what to do. It had been their voices Clarke had heard, most likely pleading with Lexa to return to her room, or with Luna to leave the floor.

“My, haven’t you grown, Little Leksa.” Luna lazily smirked while Lexa stoically returned her casual stare.

“Do I know you?” Lexa queried.

“Luna!” Clarke hurried to intervene. “I was just looking for you! Let’s go talk in my room.”

Luna barely paid Clarke any attention as she curiously studied Lexa’s stern features.

“Heda has returned from the dead, but without her memory…”

Clarke sighed; cat was out of the bag now.

“Luna…” Lexa murmured, tilting her head in thought. “You were supposed to Ascend.” Her eyes lit up in remembrance.

Luna shrugged and awkwardly took a step back.

“You’re a Natblida, like I am.” Lexa stated and then straightened her spine. “We will fight each other in the Conclave.” She gave a resolute nod, eyes glittering with excitement.

“What? No!” Clarke interrupted, trying to get the two brunettes’ attention who were still staring each other down. “There’s no need for a Conclave, because you’re Heda, Leksa. You’ve already won your Conclave.”

“I won the Conclave this coward ran from.” Lexa retorted, folding her hands behind her back and lifting her chin in challenge.

Luna visibly bristled and Clarke groaned out loud.

“Is death all you care about?” Luna snarled.

“No.” Lexa deadpanned, eyes steady and unwavering while they judged Luna for her passivity.

“Then will you insist on fighting Milah and Ephraim too?”

Lexa turned to Clarke. “Who are these people?”

“They’re Natblidas like us, an old man and a baby. Will you insist on fighting them in this Conclave as well?” Luna scoffed.

“Of course not.” Lexa frowned. “But I will fight you, as you seem capable.”

“You’re already Heda!” Luna glared.

“Yes, but the title of Heda is bestowed on the worthy.”

“You’re not worthy?”

“How can I be, if I’m not the best? And how can I be considered the best, if I haven’t defeated every other eligible Natblida?”

“So you’d risk that I might defeat you and give up being Commander?”

“You won’t defeat me.” Lexa’s lips tilted arrogantly. “And if you do, I will die honoured that someone worthy had bested me. That my people will benefit from the strongest Heda. That is the purpose of the Conclave, we of the Blood owe it to our people to participate. If we shy away from our duty, others, less worthy, will rise.”

Clarke stared between the two. This was Lexa speaking, but the Lexa Clarke knew, would’ve vetted Luna based on her wisdom and compassion too, not only her strength. It was nice to see the way Lexa challenged Luna though, that she still believed in The Flame, but she clearly lacked the teachings she’d fostered in her young Nightbloods. Most likely having adopted the ways Senna had taught her, which might confirm that Titus had indeed been gearing up to announce her as his apprentice and successor.

“You’ve won your Conclave, Leksa.” Clarke interrupted. “I was there when The Flame had been removed from your body and I’ll be there when it’s placed back. There’s no need for a Conclave now. The next one will be after your death and Luna can participate in that one.”

Surprisingly, Lexa nodded her acceptance without any further argument and turned her full attention to Clarke, while Luna glared at the blonde volunteering her for the next Conclave. If it were up to Clarke, there wouldn’t be another Conclave for as long as she lived.

“I need to speak with you, Fleimkepa.” Lexa formally requested.

Clarke almost said yes, but remembered that she needed to sort Luna out now that she knew about Lexa and her amnesia. “I will need to speak to Luna first though, do you mind waiting?”

Lexa shook her head no. “Would you please ask your guards to summon Senna as well?”

Clarke clenched her jaw at the co-dependence, but instructed Riley to go get Senna after Lexa disappeared toward her room again.

“I was telling the truth when I said I would’ve beaten her then.” Luna murmured when Clarke closed the door to her room behind them. “I doubt I would be able to do it now though. She seems even firmer in her beliefs and her people here still speak of her accolades as a warrior.”

“You need to keep this quiet.” Clarke cut right to the chase, not really caring about whatever pissing contest the two Natblidas were just involved in. Lexa would beat Luna; Clarke had known this already.

“I don’t understand why you hadn’t just placed The Flame back where it belonged and why instead you had sent the ambassadors away…”

“She has no memory of who she is, I’m concerned as to whether The Flame would cause more harm than good. And if it doesn’t help her regain her memory, I will need time to share with her the state of our world; what’s happening in this war and prepare her properly to meet with the ambassadors.”

“You hadn’t seemed that concerned about placing The Flame in me.”

“I don’t care about you the way a care about her.” Clarke deadpanned.

“Of course.” Luna smirked, not the least bit offended, she appreciated bluntness, Clarke knew this. “I have told you that I want no part in this. That means not spreading rumours.”

“What were you doing on the Heda’s floor?”

“I came to ask what I should tell my people. They will want to know why I’m not Heda. Whether we can just live our lives in peace now without me being Heda. And after seeing Leksa, I will need to ask whether we will still be safe here or if I will be forced to fight in a Conclave now.”

“She never stopped being Heda, so I see no need for a Conclave. Ontari didn’t even really Ascend. But for now, I’ll need you to stick around the Tower and not tell anyone that Leksa’s back. I need new eyes around here. Honest eyes who want peace as much as I do and who will keep Milah safe. All I know is that without her memory, Leksa will be at a major disadvantage with the current political climate and I need to focus all of my attentions on her, but I can’t if I’m worried that someone will snatch Milah away from us while my back is turned.”

Luna nodded earnestly. “I agree. Milah is a lovely child, I will protect her from all of this.”

Clarke had of course known of Luna’s fondness for Milah – her fondness of children in general – but was still surprised at Luna’s easy agreement and the smile she received. Perhaps the first genuine one Luna had given Clarke, albeit still a bit sad.

“You were right. About my brother. It’s time I do something to honour him, instead of hiding from what I’d done. For my husband too. Protecting the small Natblida seems to be a good way to start.”

“Klok! Kloook!” Milah screamed in delight - bountiful chestnut curls cupping her cute face and big brown eyes - when Clarke entered the room with Luna in tow.

“Hey, Pretty Girl!” Clarke grinned and took the little Natblida in her arms after greeting Mikah with a smile.

Milah had probably been one of the few things in the world that had kept Clarke from giving up her fight and returning to Arkadia with her tail between her legs. Mikah too was a pleasant man. His love for his daughter was inspiring, as was his protectiveness. His easy demeanour and intelligence reminded Clarke of her own father. It had been Mikah’s brilliant idea to keep their origins secret, so if Milah were to ever Ascend, no one clan would be able to claim her as their own. They would most likely try, but without confirmation from Mikah, no one would ever know.

She quickly discussed with Mikah what Luna’s new role would be from then on. They’d had their own guards already, but Clarke knew that Luna was a skilled fighter and with an emotional interest, it made her the perfect candidate to watch over Milah.

Mikah seemed happy at the news. Much like Clarke, he wasn’t a warrior, but he had been smart enough to bring his daughter to the Tower, instead of raising her outside of Polis and risk her being recruited by a vicious clan leader to be raised as a tool of destruction, like Ontari had been. Whoever discovered Milah would’ve undoubtedly separated Mikah from his child, whether to raise her as their own, or sell her to the highest bidder.

Mikah and Luna had briefly met before, so Clarke left them to get to know each other better, wanting to be sure that Milah was comfortable enough with Luna before she left for Arkadia the next morning. Clarke placed the little Nightblood into Luna’s arms – god, she was such a friendly and trusting child, Clarke never wanted her to lose that – and left the room, knowing that there would be no way Luna would be able to deny that face.

Clarke waved goodbye, her heart clenching at the tiny fingers curling back at her and went back up to speak with Lexa: The other Natblida who made her chest burn with adoration.

Okay, maybe Luna was starting to grow on her too.

“Excuse me?” Clarke lowly chuckled, but it came out harsh and bitter. “You want Senna to be Fleimkepa?”

They were standing in Lexa’s room, in an awkward triangle, staring each other down.

Clarke’s hand shot up when Senna opened her mouth and it shut her up, or maybe it was the vicious look on Clarke’s face, because had it not been inferred that Senna would behave herself?

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Clarke coldly sneered and glared at Lexa who was watching the interaction between Clarke and Senna with interest. “You, want Senna to be Fleimkepa?”

“She has said that Titus had aimed to announce her as apprentice. Her claim to the title seems as valid as yours does.” Lexa coolly explained.

“It’s not right that The Flame is in possession of a Sky Person.” Senna murmured, acting the victim as though Clarke had stolen something from her. “Nontu had taught me everything he could. He would’ve announced me as his apprentice. Fleimkepas are holy. Our people respect them. They live longer than the Commanders they serve. He had no reason to hurry to choose an apprentice, but he would’ve soon and he would’ve chosen me, had the Skaikru not invaded our lands and started killing our people.”

Clarke snorted out loud.

“Strange, there’d been two days where I’d been locked up while arrangements for the funeral and the Conclave had been made. One would’ve assumed that you would’ve come to stand at his side to see how it’s done, or at least for him to announce you his successor to someone.”

“He told me that it was too dangerous to be present and Heda needed me. I had told you this earlier when you threatened my life!” Senna threw back, eyes wide and frightened like a baby deer.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Fleimkepa.” Lexa icily told Clarke, face stern and eyes hard. Clarke knew that look. She’d pissed Lexa off enough times to know that this was serious.

“And what had I done?” Clarke barked back, just as coldly. “I don’t know Senna; all I know is that she kept the Commander away from Polis for almost a year. You could’ve been recovering here, in your home. Around familiar people and things to help you remember!”

Lexa held her eyes so intently that Clarke forgot what they were talking about for a moment until Senna interrupted their staring contest.

“How were we to trust that Polis would be safe with a Skaiyon as Fleimkepa?” Senna sneered. “Skaikru had stolen the spirits of our people from their bodies against their will. You are the Bringers of Death!”

And that had been the story that spread throughout the clans. Not so much that it was Skaikru though. Everyone knew that the Arkadians had been victims of A.L.I.E. just as they had been. But of course there were still a few who hated Clarke’s people just because they came from the sky. Like Solas of Azgeda who had taken his mentor Nia’s agenda for power and twisted it into hatred of Skaikru.

Clarke’s chest puffed and her chin lifted.

“I’m Wanheda, Mountain Slayer.” She defiantly announced, even as it pained her. “I rid your clans of the Maunon threat; avenged them where you hadn’t been able to after decades of reapings. I entered the City of Light and saved all of our people, and I worked to rebuild Polis thereafter, while you hid Leksa away from me. I’ve taken care of the refugees of this conflict as best I could and have maintained Polis as the neutral ground Heda had decreed it should be. I have The Flame in my possession. The Flame Titus had entrusted me to protect when he’d given me the Journal of the First Commander.”

Clarke’s voice was low and threatening and her fists clenched as she glared daggers at Senna, already contemplating how she would get rid of her body.

“Most importantly, I’ve had The Flame inside of me; hundreds of witnesses know this to be true. I had Ascended and the previous Commanders hadn’t rejected me. They had chosen me as much as Titus had. I’ve spent a year making up for the mistakes of a few of my people. I will spend many more keeping our people safe and ensuring that the Coalition will be formed again; that there will be peace. My actions thus far speak for themselves. I’m the best and rightful candidate to be Fleimkepa. Perhaps you would’ve known this had you not been conveniently hiding for the past year while there’s a threat of war.”

“Exactly. War’s brewing. Polis isn’t safe for Leksa.” Senna muttered. “That was why I had kept her away.”

Having Titus as a father was nothing in comparison to Clarke’s extensive resume; there had actually been a few who had suggested that Clarke become Commander.

“Polis is the safest place, because I’ve made it so. I would’ve protected Leksa as I’ve protected The Flame. Because I am the Fleimkepa. I am the authority here. Not you,” Clarke sneered and turned to Lexa then, “and not you either.” She growled at the brunette, who continued to stare at her with an unreadable expression. “Not until The Flame is back inside of you where it belongs.”

Clarke looked to Senna again, before she got stuck in those green eyes and forgot what she was saying.

“Be grateful that I haven’t had you removed from my city.” Clarke warned, her chest puffed out, her fists clenched as she pinned Senna with a glare.

“My apologies Fleimkepa, we had intended no disrespect.” Lexa’s smooth and calm voice pierced into the thick tension.

Clarke glanced toward her to find Lexa staring at her like Lexa used to stare at her when Clarke would challenge the generals of her armies and strutted around Ton DC like she owned the place: with admiration, respect and longing.

Clarke smirked. “Apology accepted, Leksa.” She then turned an expectant gaze on Senna, who looked as though she wanted to strangle Clarke.

“Apologies, Fleimkepa.” She gritted out through clenched teeth, bowing down low and Clarke left it that. Senna would be watched; Clarke’s suspicion had only grown.

She turned back to Lexa.

“Will you join me for dinner tonight?” Clarke husked, pleased to see that she still had Lexa’s undivided attention.

Lexa’s gaze moved toward her lips, licking her own before she quickly locked eyes on Clarke again, giving a firm nod.

“Great.” Clarke flashed her a wide smile that seemed to dazzle Lexa even further. “I’ll see you later.”

Clarke left the room feeling a whole lot better about everything; Lexa seemed to remember a lot more than she realised.

Chapter 5

Chapter Text

Dinner with Lexa had been… nice, Clarke supposed.

They ate in Clarke’s rooms, the atmosphere not necessarily romantic, but intimate nonetheless. Clarke had to hold back the barrage of questions she had, not wanting to scare Lexa off, who had quietly eaten her food while her eyes took in her surroundings, blushing lightly whenever her gaze landed on Clarke only to find the Fleimkepa intently staring at her.

Clarke couldn’t remember whether she’d eaten at all, let alone what had been on the menu.

She had just sat there and watched and listened to Lexa’s utensils scraping her plate, intently following her every movement, staring at her mouth when she spoke. Lexa had been the one to ask a few questions, about Polis, the refugees, the threat brewing in Azgeda... Clarke had answered her vaguely, still not sure how big of a hold Senna had on Lexa. Lexa had seemed to suggest Senna be Fleimkepa only because of Senna’s insistence that that would’ve been what Titus would’ve wanted. But once Clarke had asserted herself, Lexa had let it go. Lexa had also not insisted on Senna joining them for supper. The two seemed to have a close relationship though, so Clarke postponed her interrogation until she was more certain that it wouldn’t cause conflict for herself if she were to ask Lexa about her ‘friend’.

All Clarke could trust in, was that Lexa was still the sage woman Clarke remembered. But our experiences shape us and Clarke had no way of knowing what this memoryless Lexa’s intentions were.

Lexa needed to remember.

So early the next morning, after arranging with Octavia to keep an eye on things at the Tower, Clarke went to the Heda’s room to inform Lexa of her impending departure. Clarke would be sneaking out of the city, only taking Ryder with her; leaving Riley and O to take care of Lexa. She hoped that she could trust Lexa to remain compliant and hidden until Clarke returned. Senna, at least, hadn’t made any attempt to announce Lexa’s presence to the world.

Clarke’s absence shouldn’t be too much of a risk though, since she intended on being back the following evening. She’d grown careful with these things; hand picking her guards and using referrals from Indra only. Her warriors were all Trikru and Clarke would feel bad about that, until she remembered that none of the previous guards had stopped Lexa from running into a room filled with gunfire, and Roan had been able to pay a few off to place a knife in Clarke’s rooms.

Clarke blamed Titus for this. Lexa had trusted him to keep Polis safe, but instead he’d grown obsessed with telling Lexa what to do. Too focused on the changes Lexa was making and Clarke’s influence to notice the threats right under his nose; effectively becoming the threat.

The sun was barely peaking over the horizon and Clarke hoped she wouldn’t be waking Lexa when she made her way down the hall. They really should’ve discussed it the night before. It was one of the reasons why she’d invited Lexa to dinner, but Clarke had found it difficult to do anything but stare at Lexa’s face and the steady rise and fall of her chest…

She smiled at Riley standing at his post. Octavia would relieve him soon since Ryder had slept the night in order to accompany Clarke to Arkadia. Lexa’s door was thankfully open, meaning that she was at least awake when Clarke peaked through and grinned at what she found.

The room was still slightly dark and the Heda was busy very meticulously lighting the scores of candles placed around the large space. Mindlessly, Clarke stepped inside and watched the play of soft golden light on Lexa’s skin as the Commander lit candle after candle in silent delight; drawing Clarke in like a moth to a flame…

It was as they met on one side of the bed - Lexa having finally lit her last candle behind the creepy boy-statue Clarke really wanted to ask her to remove - that their eyes locked and the breath got knocked right out of Clarke’s lungs when the déjà vu hit her like a sledgehammer to the chest.

A large knot instantly formed in her throat as she watched Lexa’s brows knit together, yet the Commander still slowly closed the distance between them.

“You’re leaving…” Lexa whispered, head tilted in confusion, eyes rapidly flickering in thought, because Clarke hadn’t said anything to her yet.

Clarke was afraid to breathe as she watched Lexa feel what had happened the last time Clarke had come to say goodbye to her. Lexa didn’t seem to remember the details though, Clarke realised, when the Heda hugged her own arm over her stomach. It was a sign of distress that made Clarke want to stop Lexa from trying to grasp at the memory obviously evading her.

But Lexa needed to remember, so Clarke stood firm and watched the emotions flitting over Lexa’s face while they stood mere inches apart. Lexa seemed to finally gather herself and locked her eyes on Clarke again, earnest and intent.

Kiss me! Kiss me! Kiss me! Clarke’s internally screamed; still stuck in her own memories.

“I don’t want you to leave.” Lexa murmured, then immediately scowled at her words.

She took a step away from Clarke who finally managed to breathe again; the rush of oxygen thankfully jumpstarting her brain.

“I’ll be travelling to Arkadia; to the Skaikru. We have technology there that I want to use to determine whether The Flame is still safe to place back... My mother is also a healer and she may be able to assist with your amnesia… I should be back tomorrow evening.” Clarke tried to put Lexa’s mind at ease.

It didn’t work.

“I will go with you.” Lexa stated, punctuating the statement with a step closer.

Clarke wanted to wrap her arms around Lexa and never let go.

“It’s too dangerous, Leksa. If the wrong people see you…” Clarke trailed off, knowing that look on Lexa’s face. Clarke knew when she could still sway Lexa and when the Commander had made up her mind.

“We will be back tomorrow. The danger will be minimal if we don’t announce our plans to the world.” Lexa asserted, clearly only waiting for Clarke to accept this inevitable change of plan.

Clarke sighed in defeat, wondering if she would ever have the heart to deny Lexa again.

“Fine. I could use the time to tell you more about the state of the world.” She conceded.

Lexa beamed a smile at her and Clarke winced when the ferocity of her heart and stomach flipping, was actually painful.

“But you need to trust me and do as I say, Leksa.”

“Sha, Fleimkepa.” Lexa agreed with a twinkle in her eye that Clarke knew meant that her cooperation was entirely conditional.

Clarke sighed again, even as her stomach twisted with excitement at spending some alone time with Lexa. Octavia would join them and Riley would keep an eye on things in Polis. She would make sure that word spread that the Fleimkepa would be in important meetings for the next two days and should not be disturbed.

“And Senna can’t come with us.” Clarke added, making a mental note to let Riley know that she and Lexa would be in these ‘meetings’ should Senna ask.

Lexa actually let out a low chuckle at that and ran her tongue over her teeth, deliberately caressing her eyes over Clarke’s body.

It made Clarke wish that she wasn’t wearing her ugly robes.

“I will be ready soon, Fleimkepa.” Lexa husked and Clarke’s eyes fluttered at the shiver that ran down her spine, before she frantically nodded and fled the room.

They were on the road to Arkadia half an hour later.

Clarke wasn’t sure what to make of this Lexa who seemed herself at times, yet uncharacteristically biddable at others. Clarke wasn’t sure whether it was just wishful thinking or not, but she could’ve sworn there’d been a few occasions that Lexa was checking her out. Okay, that was a lie, Clarke was very sure. Lexa could never hide her interest. The thought was comforting that it was still true. Though this Lexa was a bit more voracious than Clarke remembered, which made her that much more difficult to ignore and resist.

They met with Indra a few miles outside of Ton DC. Clarke had radioed the leader of the Trikru while Lexa had unabashedly stared at the technology, asking question after question. Octavia answered most of them though and the two of them were in light discussion about Octavia’s dislike of Arkadia and subsequent adoption by the Trigedakru – Clarke wasn’t sure that it was a good idea to tell Lexa such things, but the Commander was at ease and Clarke didn’t want to ruin that – when Ryder halted them and Indra made her way out of the forest on foot.

As per their arrangement, Indra came alone, because Clarke was fairly certain that Lexa’s people would lose their minds if they saw her suddenly alive. Word would spread all the way to the Plainriders before they’d even made it to Arkadia.

Clarke dismounted quickly; it was just a brief stop to find out the position of Indra’s scouts and then plan their route through them in a way that the scouts would protect their path without even knowing that Clarke and her small party were even there. Indra absently agreed with everything Clarke suggested on the map while her eyes kept on shifting toward Lexa talking to Octavia and Ryder.

“Do you want to speak to her?” Clarke asked with a warm smile.

“She doesn’t remember me.” Indra answered as though that was a reason.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you. She’d been asking about the Trikru last night. You guys can talk about that while we have an early lunch.” Clarke suggested, already walking toward Lexa before Indra could object.

She introduced them by their titles and then left the two stoic and rigid women to sort themselves out. For women who weren’t known to be very talkative, Indra and Lexa actually spoke for quite a while, only joining them again when their meals were finished and their horses repacked.

Clarke made sure that Lexa ate something too, but when Indra declined the offer, saying her farewells instead, Clarke walked with her a few yards back into the forest.

“She seems competent.” Indra proudly stated. “If only we had time to teach her everything she knew before. Rumours are already spreading as to why Luna hadn’t Ascended. For now, at least, they say it was because she isn’t really a Natblida. Others are saying that another Natblida had been found and that there will be a Conclave soon...”

Clarke nodded, at least no one had reported seeing Lexa yet, though Clarke was certain a few people must’ve seen her travelling into Polis. She was begrudgingly grateful that Senna had kept Lexa hooded, no doubt to ensure her ‘Great Reveal’ would give Clarke a stroke: Kill the Fleimkepa and then replace the Fleimkepa without getting her hands dirty.

Bitch.

“She needs to remember.” Indra sighed, almost to herself and then halted. “Perhaps you should take her to her tree.”

“Her tree?” Clarke confusedly wondered.

“Yes. I will direct you. It’s not far from here.”

“Uhm, okay…” Was all Clarke could answer.

Lexa’s tree was huge and referred to as hers because it was where a young Lexa would disappear to in between her rigorous training sessions, enjoying climbing up to the top to look out over the Trikru territory. Anya had called her Monkey up until the day Lexa had Ascended. After that, the nickname had only been used in private.

It stood in a small clearing, nothing growing around it for about thirty yards. Clarke could only imagine the massive roots spanning underneath the earth that stopped any other trees from taking up the space around it. Glancing up, Clarke had to crane her neck and still couldn’t quite see the top of it, though it noticeably stood half its length higher than the rest of the Trikru forest in the immediate surrounds.

Lexa seemed as mesmerized as Clarke was and slowly walked forward, laid her hands against the smooth bark and gently caressed over it. Clarke forgot about the natural wonder entirely as she watched Lexa press the tip of her nose against the tree, visibly inhaling as her eyes fluttered closed.

Remaining as quiet as she could, Clarke slowly trailed Lexa while the Heda traversed the bulky trunk, but stepped closer when Lexa’s entire body went rigid and her arm cradled her stomach. Lexa’s eyes were rapidly flitting over something on the bark and Clarke was almost afraid to look, but she went to stand next to the frozen brunette and bit the inside of her cheek when she saw what Lexa was staring at.

There, encased within a heart, perfectly carved into the trunk, was written: Leksa + Kostia, and below it: Ai don ste kamp raun hir, don kik raun, don hod raun.

I was here, I lived, I loved.

Clarke felt an unsettling combination of melancholy, endearment and jealousy at the way Lexa had loved Costia. Looking at the brunette, Clarke could see Lexa feeling something forceful at the words. Her eyes glistened while she stared, as though having forgotten that Clarke was there too. Lexa then slowly walked forward and caressed her fingertips over Costia’s name.

“I loved her…” Lexa whispered.

It was a statement, but Clarke swallowed thickly and answered nonetheless.

“Very much.” She murmured.

Lexa slowly nodded before she glanced at the words one final time, took a deep breath and then continued on around the bulky trunk. It was a lot more difficult for Clarke to move on from the monument of Lexa and Costia’s love, intertwined with the words at the bottom. It was glaringly obvious how much of Lexa’s identity had been sculpted from her relationship with Costia.

Lexa had known Costia since she was ten. And as they grew up together, their feelings for each other had grown too. It had been apparent to everyone. Gustus and Anya enjoyed teasing Lexa about it. Lexa, however, had ignored her feelings – of course – and focused on her training for when she would fight in the Conclave. She’d used that as reasoning for not acting on her feelings, stating that she should always be ready and that there was no room for distraction.

Lexa had been intent on saving the Trikru from Azgeda rule. She was determined to elevate the Trikru and destroy every other clan who stood in her way. After the Conclave though, perhaps feeling more confident in what she could offer a houmon, Lexa had finally asked Costia to be hers. Costia had said no then, telling Lexa that things couldn’t all happen when she decided them to. It had been a bold move that had instantly triggered the Heda’s fighting instincts. Forgetting all about world domination, Lexa had focused her attentions on wooing Costia.

Clarke thought that if they had ever met, she would’ve really liked the girl.

Costia hadn’t held out long though, no one really blamed her when she’d finally given in. Especially not Clarke who’d been on the receiving end of Lexa’s selfless love too. The Heda’s love was soft yet strong, overwhelming yet soothing all at once. Costia never stood a chance at resisting.

Lexa had been in love and she’d been loved in return. Her entire outlook on life had changed then. She wanted to be remembered for more. She had wanted to have a family. She had wanted to enjoy that family for longer than the four Commanders known of in her young life had ruled. Lexa had wanted to bring peace to the clans so that others could enjoy the same happiness that she had felt when Costia became hers; without fear of a war that could tear them apart at any moment.

Titus had been the one to teach Lexa how to read, write and the politics of leading. Anya had taught Lexa to be proficient in all forms of Grounder combat and weaponry, and to valiantly command an army of warriors. But it had been through loving Costia that Lexa had become the leader her people needed. The one Heda that dared to be different and defy tradition. Perhaps – like Titus had said – The Flame had enhanced the beautiful parts that made Lexa, Lexa. But Clarke knew from her discussions with a few, that though Lexa had always been special, she had only realised her full potential through the love and support that Costia had provided her.

A love her enemies and Teacher would later describe as weakness.

Clarke had learned most of this through her many conversations with Indra, who had seen it unfold with her own eyes. Looking back, the discussions had been a way for both of them to mourn. Clarke had needed to know all she could about the woman she’d loved and lost way too soon, and Indra needed to speak about the young warrior she’d mentored and had later dutifully followed into battle after battle. Now though, it just felt like a gross invasion of Lexa’s privacy; to know so much of Lexa’s life without Lexa having been the one to have told her. Worst still, to know all of that, while Lexa couldn’t remember any of it at all.

Clarke sighed and rounded the tree trunk, intent on asking Lexa whether she wanted to know what Clarke knew about her personal life. But after having circled around it – halting at the script on the tree again – Clarke’s brows furrowed and she anxiously looked around.

“Leksa?!” She called out, instantly overcome by an intense panic.

What had happened to her? What if she ran off? What if she was done with not remembering and didn’t want to be Heda anymore? What if Lexa had been captured by one of the clans? What if she’d been assassinated, her body dragged off to Polis to be displayed by some power hungry warlord? Would Lexa and or the enemy have been able to escape passed the perimeter that Indra and the others had undoubtedly set up?

Clarke scolded herself for allowing Octavia and Ryder to stay away in order to give Lexa some privacy.

“Sha, Klark?” Lexa’s light-hearted voice sounded behind her and Clarke could hear her smiling even before she spun around, coming face to face with Lexa hanging upside down from a tree branch.

“Dammit, Leksa!” Clarke’s panic managed to increase as she ran forward and tried to hold Lexa by the shoulders, “get down now!” Clarke reprimanded, but stopped when Lexa’s amused laughter filled the air and Clarke noticed that their faces were extremely close, causing her stomach to twist into knots.

Lexa sobered, but stared back at Clarke with sparkling eyes, that longingly glanced toward Clarke’s lips, before Lexa made eye contact again in unspoken question.

Clarke stilled entirely, silently blinking, not even breathing, as she fought the urge to press their lips together.

Blindly, Lexa reached up to cup Clarke’s cheeks, but then her big green eyes widened even further after an ominous sounding creak from up top. Distracted by Lexa’s beautiful mouth, it took Clarke a moment to realise what must be happening. But when she did, Clarke moved forward to place her body beneath Lexa’s to break her imminent fall, still clutching onto her shoulders.

“Let go, Klark!” Lexa laughed while she tried to curl herself up toward the breaking branch, but Clarke’s panic was back full force and she gripped onto Lexa’s shoulders, moving below her, ready to place her own body between Lexa and the earth.

The branch groaned again, and Lexa finally lost her foothold because of her struggle with Clarke and started falling from the tree. Clarke could feel the lithe muscles bend and twist and was then tugged forward as Lexa - somehow - managed to position herself beneath Clarke to make sure that she wouldn’t be hurt.

Clarke could feel the whoosh of breath that left Lexa’s lungs when the Heda’s back collided with solid ground, but could do nothing as she was safely trapped in the strong arms and legs that had protectively encircled her body. She looked up, anticipating that the branch would fall onto their heads, but it was still attached to the tree. Clarke wildly glanced down at Lexa’s face again, whose lips had curled into a tender smile.

“I’m sorry,” Clarke murmured, staring down into those eyes, “I thought it was going to break.” She searched Lexa’s face for any sign of pain. “Are you okay?”

Lexa was still smiling as though Clarke hadn’t just freaked out and practically pulled her from the tree.

“I’m of the Tree People, Klark. I wouldn’t have hung myself off a branch I didn’t know for certain could hold my weight.” Another soft smile and soft eyes, and Clarke decided not to mention the brief concern in Lexa’s eyes that had set off Clarke’s panic, nor ask why Lexa was so confident about the Trikru when she didn’t have her memory, because Clarke suddenly remembered that they’d almost kissed before.

The fall hadn’t seemed to stem any of the desire coming from Lexa either or maybe it was Clarke’s body laying flush on top of her?

“I’m sorry.” Clarke whispered again, regardless, needing to keep talking because she was being drawn in by that green gaze and pink pouty lips… “Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?”

“No, Klark…” Lexa lazily smirked. “The ground had broken my fall.” And then she pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth.

Clarke watched the deliberate action in a daze, her heart rate picking up again, as Lexa released her lip with a wet plop.

“What hurts is not kissing you…” Lexa murmured, her mouth quirking up into an attractive grin.

Clarke just couldn’t anymore. This somewhat carefree Lexa was unbelievably and irresistibly charming. So she pressed their mouths together, her breath hitching when a surge of emotion pulsed through her body.

This Lexa was such a playful flirt. Clarke had only caught brief glimpses of it in the past. The only hesitancy Lexa expressed now, was out of respect for Clarke. Not like before, when Lexa had almost been afraid to touch her; afraid to cross that invisible boundary Clarke had erected around her because of the Mount Weather incident.

Lexa’s kisses were different now, yet still the same. The confidence behind them had Clarke’s head spinning. Or was it the familiar, slender, fingers threading into the hair at the back of Clarke’s neck? Clarke didn’t even think of fighting when she was effortlessly rolled onto her back, her head carefully cradled to avoid injury and Lexa expertly pinned Clarke down without breaking the heated kiss.

It was exhilarating. And overwhelming. Even more so, completely and utterly terrifying.

Lexa kissed her without a care in the world, and yet still as though Clarke was the only thing in the world that mattered. The latter was familiar. But Clarke could still feel that it was without the history that made them, them. Clarke didn’t resist the assured tongue that entered her mouth, instead opening herself to the invasion, whimpering softly at how it still felt like Lexa, but still somehow did not.

Clarke was alone in her complete reverence and love.

Worst of all, all Clarke could think about was how steady this Lexa was. How she was kissing Clarke because it was what she wanted to do. Not like the last time Lexa had touched her. She’d been so unsure as to whether Clarke would accept her advances, even when Clarke had been the one to initiate the intimacy.

God, the way Lexa had trembled…

Lexa tilted her head, sliding their mouths together in that familiar way that had Clarke’s knees grow weak and had her grateful that she was laying down. She moaned and Lexa instantly deepened the kiss, still tenderly holding Clarke to her, not making a move to progress any further, despite the intensity of their kissing.

Last time, Clarke had needed to take the lead, because Clarke had made Lexa doubt Clarke’s feelings. Clarke wished they’d had the time back then for Lexa to have shown her this side of her. This confident lover who trusted that she was wanted and worthy of the love being directed at her.

Clarke’s breath hitched again, a soft sob aching as it escaped her throat when she realised that she hadn’t been the only one the betrayal at Mount Weather had broken.

Lexa stilled at the sound and Clarke’s fingers dug into her back, desperately clinging to her even as she broke the kiss and pressed her face into that long, elegant, neck. Clarke’s cheeks were already wet enough for Lexa to know exactly what the source of the moisture was.

Lexa flung herself off of Clarke in realisation, scrambling away with wide, remorseful eyes.

“I apologise, Fleimkepa!” Lexa frantically shouted as she got to her feet, looking utterly distraught at Clarke’s tear stained cheeks. “I’d thought… The way you have been looking at me… I thought you wanted… I’m so sorry, Klark. Please forgive me.”

Clarke sat up, watching with a tightening chest as Lexa anxiously rambled apologies even though Clarke had been the one to initiate the kiss and had been kissing her back this entire time. And there she was. Even though Lexa would never ramble like that, Clarke would’ve seen the internal ramble in her eyes. Seen that big softie hiding within the armoured shell of the almighty Heda. That big softie Clarke hadn’t been able to stop herself from falling in love with even amidst a bloody war.

“Leksa…”

“I would leave,” Lexa stared at the ground, head hung in shame, “but I’m not sure where your guards are and I have heard how much more dangerous the forest has become…” Lexa straightened her spine then and folded her hands behind her back, vigilantly scanning every inch of forest around them, save for the spot in Clarke’s direction. “I will keep my distance as I escort you back to your guards and then I will return to Polis.” She defiantly jutted out her jaw, even as her eyes shone with tears of remorse.

I love you, I love you, I love you! Clarke screamed in her mind as she watched that protectiveness flare up even while Lexa looked ready to bolt it right out of there, ready to push her own feelings and discomfort aside, just to make sure that Clarke felt comfortable and safe.

Clarke got to her feet, her heart clenching at the distress in Lexa’s gaze. She was very certain that it was more leftover feelings of the past emerging in this moment of perceived wrongdoing. Clarke walked right up to the Heda and wrapped the stiff body in a hug, laying her head on a strong shoulder.

God, they should really hug more. Clarke made a mental note to hug Lexa as frequently as she would allow. Maybe next time Lexa would even hug her back, instead of just allowing the embrace.

“Your kisses have always wrecked me.” Clarke reverently murmured and could feel Lexa trying to look down at her face. “It’s been over a year, Leksa… They were tears of joy.”

“Tears of joy…” Lexa whispered as though she was thinking on what that meant, rather than questioning it.

Clarke gave Lexa an affectionate squeeze before slightly stepping away.

Lexa might not realise it, but her reaction to Clarke’s tears were part of their past. Some residual Mount Weather guilt Clarke refused to allow between them ever again. The last time they were together had been intense and filled with too many emotions and tears. It had triggered Clarke as well.

She figured that Lexa had probably had enough reminiscing for one day.

“Yes.” Clarke confirmed with a smile, allowing her affection to show and her heart skipped at the shy smile and slight blush that coloured those lovely cheekbones. “You’ve always been such a Dramaqueen.” Clarke smirked and chuckled when Lexa rolled her eyes, yet couldn’t quite hide the relieved smile when Clarke hooked their arms together and guided them back to the others.

Later, when they were back on their horses and closing in on Arkadia, Clarke, in discussion with Ryder on when he would make a move on the woman in the kitchens he’d liked since forever, had to hide her smile when Lexa’s voice, purposely soft, yet needing to be loud enough to be heard over the clomping hooves, caught her attention:

“Okteivia… What is a Dramaqueen?”

Chapter 6

Chapter Text

Clarke hadn’t set foot in Arkadia in seven months.

“Do you think it’s safe?” Octavia murmured next to her.

Octavia hadn’t set foot in Arkadia since she’d buried Lincoln there.

It was dusk when they finally arrived at their destination and they were fast running out of light, waiting in the treeline for Kane to come back through the secret passageway that lead into Arkadia. Clarke had radioed for him to come and meet them and suggested that he not alert everyone of their presence. She didn’t anticipate anyone having an issue with them being there, but Clarke didn’t have time to play nice and answer questions and placate suspicions. According to Kane, their people were very much aware of the war in the north that would soon be on their doorstep. Should the Trikru and Azgeda warriors finally clash, they would undoubtedly go right through Arkadia, that was the equivalent to a tiny village in comparison to the rest of the clans. Not even their high walls and guns would protect them for very long if they had resources that might give an advantage to an army. Arkadia would most likely be destroyed just because they were a potential resource to the enemy.

The last time Clarke had visited her people, she’d fought with Bellamy - and a few others - about returning to Arkadia. They had argued with her that it was too dangerous to remain in Polis and that they were her people and needed her. It was so similar to the last time Clarke had elected to stay behind in Polis that she’d just laughed through her tears, hugged her mother – who thankfully understood – goodbye and never returned again.

She’d since met with Abby in Ton DC; it just cut the amount of time she was away from Polis shorter and Clarke had gotten to spend time with Octavia while she was still Indra’s shadow and avidly learning from her. Thanks to Indra welcoming them in her home, the Trikru in Ton DC didn’t even see Octavia – or Clarke – as Skaikru any longer. And Clarke knew that Octavia’s fear was that their people would feel the same.

“Kane will make sure it’s safe.” Clarke confidently stated. “We’re just here for information.”

“Bell is head of the Arkadian guard; Kane will need to tell him if they’re gonna divert any people from any parts of the Ark.”

Clarke sighed.

Bellamy still blamed the Grounders for losing his sister. Clarke trusted that he wouldn’t go off killing Grounders again. Well, she trusted Kane who had advocated for Bellamy in this position, but that hatred and suspicion was still inside of Bellamy. She’d seen it the last time she had visited, when he’d become frustrated and irate that Clarke wasn’t coming back ‘home’ after four months of ‘playing Grounder’ in Polis; shouting that she owed ‘those people’ nothing.

From a political viewpoint Clarke had argued with Kane that he was making a mistake placing Bellamy effectively in charge of an army considering what had happened in the past. Kane had asked Clarke to give him a chance to try and get through to Bellamy. Clarke could see that Kane had come to care for Bellamy as a son, so she had accepted it, telling him that whatever Bellamy did with the Arkadian guard would be for Kane to answer to.

“Kane will keep him in line.” Clarke stated. “If you want, you and Ryder can camp out here…”

Octavia hadn’t been supposed to accompany them on the trip, but with Lexa there, Clarke needed the extra protection on their journey. It helped that Octavia knew the forest and was familiar to the Skaikru, just in case the wrong people saw them.

“I don’t trust any of them.” Octavia murmured and Clarke was overcome with sadness at the statement she was close to agreeing with, was it not for a select few who were the exception. “If we lose Leksa again, everything will be f*cked.”

Clarke nodded, because wasn’t that the cold hard truth.

A hooded Lexa walked behind Clarke and Kane, Ryder and Octavia guarding her back as they were swiftly smuggled into Arkadia and then into a control room where Raven, Abby and Bellamy were waiting. Abby’s eyes shot full of tears when she saw Clarke and she rushed forward, wrapping Clarke in a tight embrace.

It took a while for her to let go again and she did so only because Raven stepped away from hugging Octavia to join the mother and daughter. Clarke laughed, ignoring the stinging in her eyes, not having realised just how much she’d missed them, to check on Lexa who stood rigid, hand on the hilt of the sword she insisted on wearing, stoically staring over the few Skaikru.

She looked exactly the picture Lexa portrayed when meeting with her generals and her enemies and for a second, Clarke thought that she might’ve regained her memory.

“Lexa…” Abby murmured and slowly moved forward.

Clarke wasn’t sure what was going to happen next, so she followed after Abby and frowned when she saw the tears continuing to stream down her mother’s cheeks as she looked between Clarke and Lexa, her watery smile growing in wattage and then Abigail Griffin hugged the Commander.

Clarke wasn’t sure whose eyes were wider: hers or Lexa’s. Because what?

Abby pulled away and cupped Lexa face as though she was eight years old and Abby was eighty. She squeezed Lexa’s cheeks that were flushed bright red as Lexa directed a panicked gaze at Clarke, who shrugged incredulously.

Abby mercifully left the shaken Heda alone, the strange encounter having at least lowered Lexa’s guard somewhat, and turned back to Clarke with that large smile still plastered on her face.

And then Abby hugged Clarke again, less intensely and more tenderly.

“I’m so happy that you got her back.” Abby whispered for Clarke’s ears only, who abruptly understood with a painful clutching of her heart.

Abby could only imagine what it would be like to have Jake Griffin walking back into her life again. Her mother was beside herself with happiness, not because the Commander was back to bring peace to the clans, but because her daughter would get a second chance with the love she had lost.

Clarke’s arms flew around Abby and she didn’t let go for a long time.

“You must be tired after your journey; we’ve prepared quarters –

- if you don’t mind, Chancellor Kane,” Lexa stiffly interrupted, having tensed up again after recovering from Abby’s attack, “I would much rather speak to this Raven about The Flame.”

Clarke looked to her mother, noting Lexa’s distress even as she tried to hide it behind a mask of impassivity. Abby made quick work of ushering the others out and Octavia announced that she would be guarding the door.

Bellamy’s eyes kept flitting between Clarke, Lexa and Octavia, but he’d remained quiet, off to the side, until Octavia had said that.

“You can’t have a meal with your brother?” He tentatively murmured.

“I’m here to protect Heda and the Fleimkepa.” Octavia stiffly answered and left the room.

Clarke’s heart hurt as she watched the distraught look on Bellamy’s face, which instantly hardened into anger as he glared toward Lexa as though she was responsible for what had just happened. The Blake siblings hadn’t dealt with their pain at all. A year had passed and they say that time heals all wounds, but not when those wounds are left to fester untreated. Then they just got worse until you lost a limb or died.

Clarke shook her head from her horrific analogy and stepped in between Lexa and Bellamy now glaring at each other. She addressed Kane behind Bellamy’s shoulder though, as was the Grounder custom. Leaders met with leaders.

“Ryder and Octavia will stay outside, but if you wouldn’t mind bringing them something to eat?” Clarke gently asked, ignoring Bellamy’s eyes burning into her face.

“Of course, Fleimkepa.” Kane amicably smiled, placed a hand on Bellamy’s shoulder, and with just a soft squeeze, Bellamy turned and followed after him.

The last time Raven Reyes was this close to Leksa kom Trikru, the Commander had her bound to a tree and was cutting through her skin with a knife. Many things had happened since then of course, but still, Clarke found herself grateful for Raven’s casual attitude when she easily took The Flame and placed it in a grip for examination; not paying the stiff Heda any mind.

Lexa was less tensed now that it was only the three of them, but she remained stoic, eyes watching Raven’s every move, her back to a wall, facing the only entry point. Clarke made sure to stay as close to her as possible, without making Lexa feel even more trapped than she already looked.

“Ascende Superius.” Raven whispered, smiling widely when dozens of tentacles sprouted from The Flame, causing a cold chill down Clarke’s spine in remembrance of a painful recovery and chronic headaches for over four months.

She glanced up at Lexa whose lips were slightly parted in shock. Obviously Senna didn’t know the exact purpose and function behind The Flame, so couldn’t have told Lexa about it. Clarke had spent a large chunk of their journey discussing all she knew about A.L.I.E. and the City of Light and how they connected with The Flame. Lexa had looked predictably sceptical, but hadn’t voiced her doubts.

“That thing had been inside our heads?” Lexa incredulously whispered and Clarke bit back a chuckle.

“Yep.” Clarke fought a cringe, but remembered she still needed to get The Flame back into Lexa so added: “It’s not that bad really.”

Lexa lifted a brow, but said nothing as Raven connected The Flame to a few wires and furiously started tapping across her keyboard. Various symbols appeared on the monitors and at Lexa’s questioning look:

“I have no idea what any of that means.” Clarke answered. “But I trust Raven. If she says that The Flame is safe, I’ll believe her.”

“Bekka Pramheda had fallen from the sky.” Lexa stated with a firm nod.

Clarke had shown Lexa the Journal of the First Commander as well. And if Becca technically being a sky person would help Lexa process this, then all the better.

“I know this is a lot to take in,” Clarke murmured, “but I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

Lexa smiled, her expression softening.

“Learning that I was Commander of my people, because the past Commanders who resided in a flame had chosen me after I fought others in a Conclave, because my blood was black and not red, had also been a lot to take in.” Lexa grinned. “I managed with that information, I shall manage with this too.”

God, Clarke almost kissed her again if it wasn’t for Raven interrupting to tell them that everything seemed fine with the program on a technical level. She’d just been troubleshooting and wouldn’t be able to see it actually running, without it being inside of Lexa.

“The program?” Lexa curiously asked, a bit more relaxed as she stepped forward.

“Clarke told you about A.L.I.E., right? How she was responsible for the nuclear bombs that destroyed the world?”

Lexa nodded.

“Now this program is called A.L.I.E. 2.0 and it resides within this crystal matrix your people call The Flame. It’s not a conscious, sentient A.I. like A.L.I.E had been, so it requires a human interface to operate, enhancing whichever mind it’s in. If that person is a Nightblood, of course.”

Lexa’s brows scrunched together and she looked to Clarke for clarification.

“Yeah… you lost me at human interface. I sort of know how it works, I’m just not sure how to explain it to someone not familiar with this kinda technology.” Clarke shrugged.

Raven got a very determined look on her face, seemingly inspired by the fact that Lexa was still looking at her in hopes of an answer. Clarke then watched Raven grab a thumb drive and for the next hour, she explained to Lexa how it worked by running a program from it on a laptop. Lexa, in turn, seemed to catch on fast, and Clarke wondered whether that too was as a result of having been in contact with Becca before. Lexa had been talking about firewalls like she knew exactly what they were when they had been in the City of Light. Clarke wasn’t even sure what a firewall was, just that it blocked… things… Maybe...

“So you see,” Raven summed up, “The Flame is a program, contained in a thumb drive, e.g. the crystal matrix. The Nightblood is this laptop, that we need to insert the thumb drive into, in order to run the program. The consciousness of all the Commanders before you, upon their deaths, had been uploaded onto the thumb drive and can now be accessed via the program when inserted in the laptop slash Nightblood slash human interface.”

“And my upload had been interrupted.” Lexa murmured. “Because it had been removed from my body while I was unconscious, but still alive...”

“That’s what I was thinking.” Raven smiled and Lexa gave her a soft one in return, before glancing at the monitor again, and Clarke could see that her mind was running a million miles a minute, probably processing all of the information she’d just been flooded with.

“Maybe we should go get some rest.” Clarke murmured. “It’s been a long day.”

Clarke thanked Raven, who was staring at Clarke and Lexa with that same fond sadness that Abby had, and Clarke wondered whether she was thinking about Finn. She didn’t have a chance to ponder it for long though, because as soon as she opened the door, she found her two guards standing opposite Bellamy, Kane and her mother in the quiet corridor.

The Skaikru looked up in excitement to see them again.

They were probably planning on catching up with Clarke for the next few hours and guilt rose in her chest, because Clarke knew that she should’ve made more of an effort to visit. Arkadia had already welcomed three new babies to their population and Clarke knew how excited Abby – everyone – was about that. Their people were surviving and they were proud of it and they wanted Clarke to be excited for them too.

Truth was, Arkadia had never felt like home to Clarke…

“Okteivia and Ryder will show me the way.” Lexa seemed to catch on to it too.

“I placed food in your quarters, Clarke.” Abby spoke up, stepping forward. “Maybe you and Lexa could get settled, eat something and we can talk after?” She handed Clarke a radio, because Clarke’s was busy charging. “You have this side of the Ark to yourselves. This radio has been set to a different frequency so you can contact me safely if you want.”

Clarke almost cried at how considerate her mother was being. Once things were settled, she was definitely going to visit Abby more, or most likely, invite her to Polis.

“Mochof, Abigail.” Lexa softly answered, Clarke hadn’t noticed the way she had intently been watching the interaction.

“You’re very welcome, Lexa.” Abby smiled, causing Lexa’s cheeks to flush, before she shyly looked away.

Abby only beamed brighter, touching both of them on the shoulder before she went to mould herself against Kane, who just grinned and wrapped his arms around her.

It was all so surreal, but it felt so good. Clarke had never seen her mother be this level of physically affectionate and supportive. Must be something about being on the Ground. It was probably all the near-death experiences. And all the deaths…

Clarke got that, vowing to show Abby more affection too.

She was wondering whether her mother would be safer living in Arkadia or in Polis when they stopped at a room, and Octavia opened its door with flourish and a deep bow.

Lexa walked in without prompting, but Clarke looked around suspiciously.

“We’re rooming together?” Clarke wondered out loud.

“Yep. Mrs G put some of your stuff in there too. Enjoy!” Octavia waggled her brows, shoved Clarke through the door and closed it behind her.

Lexa was staring at Clarke from next to a table lain with two plates of food, beside a small bed.

“We had been lovers?” Lexa bluntly asked, but at that point it was more a verbal confirmation than anything else.

“We were at war and together, sort of… I think. It was complicated.” Clarke ran a hand through her hair, wondering if this day would ever end.

It had been an emotional overload. She wasn’t sure how Lexa was still standing. Her answer came when Lexa blatantly didn’t ask anything else, instead pulled a chair for Clarke, who smiled shyly and went to sit down.

They ate in silence, lost in their own thoughts.

“You should go and spend some time with your nomon. Ryder will stay here with me.” It was offered with such sincerity, and Clarke had missed her mother and her friends, so she nodded.

“I’ll be back soon.” She smiled, stopping halfway to Lexa’s mouth, almost having kissed her goodbye.

Clarke blushed bright red and fled the room.

“She seems harmless enough now, but what happens when she gets her memory back and remembers what we’ve done?” Bellamy asked, sucking the joy out of the room.

It had been nice up until that point. They’d mostly been chatting about Arkadia and how they were fairing; the crops they’d be harvesting soon. Whether the land around Arkadia that Indra had gifted them were still filled with quarry. Clarke had even convinced Octavia to join them and she’d been animatedly talking to Raven, until Bellamy – seemingly fed up with being ignored by his sister – chose to express his despair by getting angry at the nearest Grounder.

Clarke was losing her patience with him, but her mother gave her arm a gentle squeeze and Clarke calmed. Maybe she’d grown a lot this past year too.

“That’s your problem, isn’t it?” Octavia blankly replied, causing the anger and suspicion in Bellamy’s face to turn to despair, before it all came back tenfold.

“How many times are we going to trust her? Do you really expect her to protect us when we get dragged into their war? We need to stay out of this. Let them fight amongst themselves.”

Clarke could just stare at him. Losing Octavia had made Bellamy’s prejudice even worse. He blamed Indra for Octavia leaving. Hell, he blamed the entire Grounder population for that, instead of just owning up to the fact that he had messed up. Bellamy admitted that the slaughter of the Peacekeepers had been ‘unfortunate’, but still insisted that he’d done it for his people and that Octavia should’ve trusted him instead of rebelling against Pike. You could read between the lines that Bellamy believed that Lincoln should also have submitted to Pike’s regime. That he would’ve still been alive if he had, as though it was Lincoln’s fault he’d been executed. That belief was the reason why Octavia hadn’t forgiven her brother. That she couldn’t.

Octavia had told Clarke of how supportive Bellamy had been before Mount Weather was destroyed. But the second Pike had involved Bellamy in his plans, he’d changed. They had spent many nights wondering whether Bellamy had changed because of Pike, or whether he’d always been that person and meeting Pike had just allowed him to express that side of him. His hatred of Grounders was blind. He’d killed the unarmed elevator men in Polis without even knowing who their enemy had been at the time. He killed the Peacekeepers after seeing for himself that Azgeda had been behind the attack on Mount Weather when their ambassador had proudly confessed to it.

Bellamy wasn’t a threat at the moment though, behind the walls of Arkadia; happy to avoid the rest of the clans. Most likely pretending that they didn’t exist. He trained the guards and he took groups out hunting. He took good care of his people and had come into his element under Kane’s mentorship. It was only when it came to talk about the Grounders that Bellamy became cold and uncaring. As though the Grounders weren’t people at all. It was like he became an entirely different person and Clarke wasn’t sure what to do about that. So she ignored him, for Kane’s sake yes, but mostly for Octavia’s, because despite the tension, she knew that Octavia loved her brother.

“I trust Leksa with my life.” Clarke murmured, feeling exhausted. “Everyone here knows that I’m biased. That I love her.” She ignored the way Bellamy flinched. Maybe he wasn’t only bitter about the Grounders ‘stealing’ Octavia. “But Leksa managed to get peace before we landed on the Ground, and she came back to us at a time where we need her to do so again. I’ve no doubt in my mind that we’ll be kept safe when she gets her memory back.” She confidently assured. “And, Bellamy, if you ever so much as look at her the wrong way, I will kill you.” Clarke vowed with an icy glare. She wouldn’t even hesitate, and Bellamy must’ve seen it in her eyes, because he clenched his jaw and left the room.

Then Clarke was free to spend some time with her family.

They mostly discussed Lexa’s amnesia. Abby had spent the time they were with Raven, hitting her limited medical books with not much luck on finding more than a definition on the subject. They spoke about ways to jog Lexa’s memory, telling Clarke of things she could try. Part of Clarke had hoped that Lexa would remember when they had kissed at her tree, but it really did seem as though some part of Lexa’s memories might be stuck in The Flame, and she might get them back once it was reinserted.

Thinking of the kiss, Clarke quickly excused herself, because yeah, she had missed them all, but she’d missed Lexa more.

No one argued and the goodnight hugs and kisses were a bit much, but still appreciated and soon Clarke entered the room, as softly as she could, thinking the Commander might already be asleep after the day she’d had. Instead, she found Lexa standing in the centre of the room, staring at Clarke’s blue jacket held in her hands. The one Clarke had been wearing the first time they’d met.

Strangely, Clarke’s first thought was that she hoped that it was clean, but then she noticed Lexa’s rigid posture and watery eyes.

“This is yours?” Lexa suddenly asked, almost accused.

For a second Clarke had thought that Lexa remembered. Well, she clearly remembered something about the jacket.

“Did you love me?” Lexa’s voice broke with emotion and this was the frustration Abby had warned about. It had been a really long day for Lexa.

Clarke opened her mouth to answer, but Lexa shook her head ‘no’.

“I’m tired of people telling me about my life.”

“That’s fine.” Clarke gently murmured. “We don’t have to talk anymore. Let’s just get some rest.” She took a step toward Lexa, now – seemingly subconsciously - hugging the jacket to her chest. And it was so strange to see Lexa like this. To see her losing control. The Lexa Clarke had known was a veritable vault. It scared her to see Lexa unravelling and her protective instincts flared even higher than when she’d inadvertently pulled Lexa from that tree.

“This place makes me uncomfortable.” Lexa seemed to reluctantly admit.

“Arkadia?” Clarke wondered, hoping Lexa didn’t mean the little room that her mother had given to them as though it was a honeymoon suite.

Lexa gave a firm nod, her arm going to wrap around her stomach and okay, maybe bringing Lexa to Arkadia was a bad idea.

“Why are you hiding me from your people?” Lexa had asked this already and Clarke had said that she’d hidden Lexa from the people in Polis and Ton DC too, because though it would be fine for them to see Lexa alive, Clarke didn’t think it a good idea for people to know that Lexa had no memory. “Are they a danger to me like Senna had warned?”

And of course, Clarke had almost forgotten that Lexa had spent the last year being poisoned with prejudice against Skaikru. Clarke rubbed her face, because she honestly didn’t know how to answer that.

“How do you feel around Kane?” She asked instead and watched Lexa visibly calm. “And my mom?” Clarke added, remembering the way Lexa had blushed at Abby’s affection. “I’ve told you what happened at Mount Weather and then with Pike. There’s a lot of history here and honestly Leksa, I haven’t been here in a very long time, so I can’t answer for everyone in Arkadia, but I can vouch for Kane and my mother who make up the leadership of this clan.”

Clarke gave Lexa some time to mull over her words, wondering what Lexa felt when she was around Clarke, but was afraid to ask her. The jacket had had a visceral reaction, but Clarke wasn’t yet sure whether it was a good thing or a bad thing, only that Lexa was still clutching it to her chest.

When Lexa didn’t speak again, Clarke slowly stepped forward until they were inches apart.

“We can leave?” She whispered, ducking her head to meet Lexa’s eyes, even though Clarke had still wanted Abby to physically examine Lexa.

Lexa’s eyes lit up like that was the best idea she had ever heard.

“What about your nomon?” Lexa asked regardless. “You said that you haven’t seen her in a long time and she seems to have missed you. A lot.”

Clarke smiled. “I’ll be sure to make more time for her, right now, you’re my priority.” Clarke murmured, gently prying her jacket from Lexa’s grip and helped her to put it on. Lexa distractedly complied while she listened to Clarke’s proposition. “Kane will give us some fresh horses and we can ride through the night. Indra had told me where her scouts will be positioned tonight and tomorrow so I can plan a route between them so they’ll unknowingly provide us with protection without spotting us… If we leave now, we’ll be home by sunrise.”

Lexa looked torn. Clarke knew it was her pride fighting with her instincts. It must be frightening to not know who to trust and who was lying to you; to have everyone give you different versions of the same story…

Clarke hugged Lexa, pressing her hands underneath her jacket on Lexa’s body and almost melted when Lexa instantly held her back, having seemingly been waiting for the contact.

“We will return to Polis and have the Ascension Ceremony.” The Commander whispered. “And then I will remember and things will be better.”

“Sha, Heda.” Clarke smiled, while her cheek rested against Lexa’s shoulder and her hands soothingly caressed over Lexa’s back.

Chapter 7

Chapter Text

Clarke found her mother and the others as she’d left them and quickly made her apologies for having to leave so abruptly. Abby looked like she wanted to protest, but Clarke softly explained that being in Arkadia was proving to be too stressful for Lexa. There was a long list of things that Lexa could be associating with Arkadia and Clarke didn’t want Lexa to associate Clarke with those feelings.

Abby seemed to get it, especially when Lexa awkwardly went up to her to apologise for taking Clarke away, instantly stopping her quiet rambling when Abby hugged her again, before sternly looking into the Commander’s eyes.

“You’ll take care of Clarke, won’t you?” Abby intently told Lexa who saw it as the acknowledgement and the threat it was and gave a firm nod.

And then they were off again, Clarke strangely – surprisingly - hopeful about the upcoming Ascension. Hopeful that she’d soon have Lexa back fully, even though they really didn’t have any proof that The Flame would be the answer. But they would cross that bridge when they got there.

Their journey through the night was mostly silent. The horses seemed to know their way through the Trikru Forest, but their riders still needed to concentrate in the darkness.

Clarke spent the time contemplating whether she should’ve told Lexa about their shared past; Lexa who was still wearing Clarke’s jacket as though it offered her comfort. But the details without the feelings behind them, sounded terrible. Their past had been tumultuous and filled with betrayal on both sides, albeit to varying degrees. Clarke couldn’t just tell Lexa everything that happened and she wasn’t comfortable with leaving things out... Nobody looking in from the outside would understand what they’d really meant to each other.

Instead, Clarke reiterated facts about their eight clan alliance and their presumed enemies to Lexa whenever they gave the horses a rest. With Lexa ready to Ascend again, it was the information she would need to know in case her memories didn’t return with the insertion of The Flame. Lexa absorbed the information and asked the right questions and Clarke was slightly mollified that whatever happened, Lexa still showed signs of being the excellent leader that Clarke remembered.

They entered Polis under the cover of darkness, the sky only a lighter shade of navy blue. Clarke walked Lexa to her quarters, feeling absolutely giddy when Lexa hugged her without any prompting, before tiredly dragging her feet into her room to finally get some sleep after being up for nearly 24 hours.

Clarke watched the closed door for a few moments, tempted to go inside; feeling confident that if she would just curl herself around Lexa’s back and hold her close, that Lexa would actually let her. Instead, Clarke went to get a report from the Captain of the guard on what had happened during her absence. Luna, Milah and Mikah were apparently getting along famously, so Clarke was happy about that too.

After hearing about an uneventful night, Clarke sent the Captain off to bed when the dayshift arrived and spoke to their Captain as well. This time though, she instructed that messengers be sent out for the clans to gather again, knowing that they wouldn’t be friendly having to come back after just having been there and on such short notice no less. They would return though, because Clarke had told the messengers to let it be known that Leksa kom Trikru lived and would be resuming her role as Heda of the Thirteen Clans.

Back on the Heda’s floor, Riley reported that Senna had apparently behaved herself, only asking once after Lexa and had surprisingly accepted it when told that Lexa would be in meetings with the Fleimkepa the entire day. He had accompanied Senna wherever she went, but she’d only visited the marketplace, procuring a shawl and had then returned to her room.

Finally, with a drowsy wave to Riley, Clarke entered her room and collapsed onto her bed, not even noticing the warm light shining at her through the curtains.

Clarke only got a few hours’ sleep though, and by midday, she was meeting with Murphy and Emori. She clued them in on what was happening and they discussed with her what they’d found out. She woke up for them specifically, because the two technically didn’t work for her and frequently disappeared for weeks at a time without Clarke knowing where to find them.

According to the couple, none of the Trikru or citizens in Polis, knew Senna, but Anna at the Tavern had at least confirmed when Senna had arrived in Polis and when she had left, but hadn’t seen her with anyone else and how in the hell did Senna manage to transport Lexa out of Polis by herself? She must’ve had help from someone.

“Anna is known to say anything for the right price though.” Emori added.

“Yeah, so we asked some of the patrons and they also confirmed that a woman matching Senna’s description had been there.” Murphy added, sounding like an Ark guard.

He probably wouldn’t appreciate it if Clarke pointed it out, which really made her want to, but it wasn’t the time. Clarke needed answers and would make sure to tease him about it at a later stage.

“John will be taking me to the lake in Chester though, for some alone time.” Emori hinted with a sly smile. “We’ll see what we learn there.”

Clarke grinned between the two; Murphy acting as though he didn’t love the obvious way Emori loved him. That smug smirk permanently plastered on his face was probably a result of it. Clarke thanked them for their continued efforts and directed them to where they could find a reward.

“Also, Clarke,” Murphy looked serious and so did Emori as though they were telepathically linked and knew what the other would say, “you know we like to confirm things before we talk to you, but some of the drunks at the Tavern said that the Azgeda ambassador is here in Polis already. That maybe he never left after Luna’s ceremony…”

“We’ve been watching, but haven’t spotted him as yet. It’s difficult to spy in Polis.” Emori added. “People suspect that we have the Fleimkepa’s ear.”

Clarke frowned, wondering if she herself should have a talk with Anna at the Tavern. Her guards could maybe raid the place… Just a quick search for fugitives… Technically, Clarke could search the Tavern without needing a valid reason, but that wasn’t the kind of ship she wanted to run. It wasn’t the way Lexa would do it. Not Lexa who had written a law where she could be unseated via a democratic vote by the members of her Coalition. No Heda had ever given their people such power…

“Well, I guess if they’re here, they’ll be in time for Leksa’s Ascension tomorrow night.” She smirked, trying not to show them that she was worried, though she knew they didn’t buy it. But they left her with promises to send back any important news they found.

Clarke had sent thirteen riders out that morning before the sun was even up. If they rode as hard and fast as she had instructed, the Plainriders - at the furthest point from Polis – would receive word that evening. It gave them limited time to travel to Polis, but Clarke hoped that it would ensure that it meant that they didn’t have time to question it too much or plan anything sinister for the ceremony.

After checking that the unused guestrooms were still spotless and that they would have enough food to feed the delegations, Clarke went in search of Lexa, but it was a breathless Riley who found Clarke first. He looked to Clarke and then the curious servants around them, then back to Clarke who dismissed everyone immediately as she held Riley’s eyes, anxiously waiting for him to spill what had happened to Lexa.

Clarke felt instantly nauseous.

“Heda tried to slip away from me.” He started, and then smirked. “She’s not as sly as she used to be, so I caught up with her and followed at a discreet distance.” Riley then grew nervous. “Heda is…” He seemed unwilling to tell her, which kind of defeated the entire purpose of him seeking her out.

Clarke frowned and realised what the issue was. Riley was loyal to Lexa, but he was also Clarke’s guy now, so he must be struggling with betraying Lexa’s trust?

“You swore an oath to the Circle…” Clarke reminded him.

“Heda is meeting with the Azgeda ambassador.” He quickly rushed out.

Well, sh*t…

That at least answered the question on whether the Ice Nation was in Polis or not.

Clarke’s brows knitted and she bit the inside of her cheek as she pondered the situation. Senna was up in her room, Octavia had eyes on her in that moment.

“Has Heda been to see Senna today?” Clarke asked.

“Sha, Fleimkepa. They had lunch in Senna’s room. Heda had attempted to slip away from me thereafter.”

Clarke thought that she might snap the ligaments in her jaw soon as she furiously clenched them before trying her best to calm down.

“Where is she?” Clarke murmured and Riley gave her a sad look before he hurriedly guided her out the Tower, through the streets of Polis and toward the outskirts of the city.

When Clarke spied Lexa through the shrubbery, casually talking to Jon, the Azgeda ambassador, and two of his entourage, Clarke instantly saw red and any plan she might’ve formed, flew right out the window.

Part of her had really hoped that Riley had misinterpreted the situation.

“Stay here.” Clarke growled at her poor guard and stomped through the bushes so determinedly she instantly alerted the deceptive group.

Lexa only lifted a brow at Clarke’s dramatic entrance, not even a trace of guilt on her features. Jon and his advisors on the other hand, looked the complete opposite. Clarke wasn’t sure whether it was a good thing or not that she didn’t have her gun on her. She might’ve shot them all. Lexa included.

A sharp pang in her chest stopped Clarke at that thought. No, she wouldn’t even in anger ever wish for Lexa to be shot again.

“Fleimkepa.” Lexa lightly smirked.

Clarke glared at her.

Lexa held her gaze for a while before seeming to understand that Clarke was gearing up to skin her alive and then stoically turned to Jon, suggesting that they go to the Tower and that she would see them at the ceremony the next evening.

Transparently grateful at the dismissal, the Azgeda delegation immediately hurried off.

Lexa planted her feet, rested her hands behind her back and stared after them till they were out of sight with an air of impassivity that left Clarke feeling nostalgic even through her panic and anger.

“Leksa… Please tell me you’re not siding with Azgeda in this war…” Clarke desperately pleaded, because she’d told Lexa everything of their alliance and now Azgeda might know everything too. Every single one of her allies would be in danger now.

“You’d rather I side with you?” Lexa casually queried.

And what was going on? They’d had such a good day yesterday even if it left them both emotionally exhausted. Clarke had thought that they were still the team they’d always been…

“Yes!” She exclaimed, unsure as to why she had been so stupid to trust this Lexa; this Lexa who was clearly not her Lexa, who had probably been playing Clarke to get information for Azgeda from the very start.

“Why?” Lexa deadpanned.

“Because we’re fighting against this war!”

Lexa remained quiet for a moment, while Clarke anxiously re-evaluated every single thing that had happened over the last few days.

“Titus had given Senna a letter for me.” Lexa randomly stated. “Certain that he and I were the only ones who could read it, especially in English. He explained why he had done what he’d done. All that had happened leading up to when I’d been shot. He apologised and said that he hoped that I would recover, lamented not staying at my side, but that his duty was to The Flame. He warned me to trust no one, not even his daughter Senna. He said that I should trust my instincts, like he should’ve trusted in me…”

Clarke bit her tongue, resisting the urge to vehemently agree out loud with that last statement.

“Since I woke, people have been trying to convince me to adopt their agenda. Same as you have done, Klark. Even Chief Indra and Chancellor Kane. Are their some greedy for power? Of course. But the majority are only trying to protect themselves and their clans. For some, the only way to ensure their safety, is to seek higher things. To invade and conquer. To be victors rather than victims… While others scheme in the background, moving people around like chess pieces to ensure their people’s survival…” Lexa sent her a smirk, indicating which category she thought Clarke fell under and respected her for it. “My people are prone to violence when threatened. I have heard it from talks about our history, I read it in your Journal, and I know in my gut that it has always been so. It is how we have survived. And one of the things which drive our survival instincts, is fear. Everyone is afraid of what the future will bring; of who will rise to power here in Polis and what that will mean for their clan. It stands to reason that they will react differently.”

“It doesn’t mean that those reactions are justified.” Clarke interjected.

Azgeda was wrong in what they were doing. Bullying their allies just so that Solas could become Commander for no other purpose than to have Azgeda gain the resources that were supposed to be spread throughout the territories. He’d proven it when he’d had his allies stop trading with the rest of the clans, leading to many poverty-stricken villages in their allied territories. Clarke’s main focus over the last few months had been to ensure that those people received what little the other clans could spare. The Ice King had made no secret of his intentions; that he believed Azgeda were superior to everyone else, because historically they’ve had the most Commanders Ascend.

Lexa nodded her agreement and continued.

“The clans had been at war with each other until they were only at war with the Maunon. Then they were at war with Skaikru. Always, there has been an us and a them to cause conflict. And most of the time that doesn’t mean that there had been a right and a wrong.”

It was Clarke’s turn to nod her agreement while she listened to the Commander. Much like Titus had toward the end, Clarke bemoaned her constant fighting against Lexa’s decisions after her arrival in Polis. She’d had her reasons to be angry of course, but still. Lexa was a sage leader and she thought things through, instead of rushing blindly into a situation.

“You are the Fleimkepa, Klark. Your duty is to The Flame. Each leader of the thirteen clans has a duty to their respective clans. My duty as Heda, is toward my people; every single one of them. So no, I will not be picking any sides in this war. I will instead, ensure that it stops. No clan will stand above the other. I will learn from my people what they need and that includes speaking to Azgeda and identifying their fears. I may not remember my initial motivation in establishing the Coalition, but I wholeheartedly agree with you that it needs to be formed again.”

Clarke realised then that Lexa may have inherently felt the need to join her on her journey to Arkadia because of their shared past, but Lexa had also been doing reconnaissance while she was at it. She’d spoken to Indra at length and had thoroughly interrogated Clarke about the eight-clan alliance.

It was much needed reassurance that she could trust in this Lexa to do right by their people. And for once, with Kane as Chancellor, Skaikru would be counted amongst them. Even without her memories, this Lexa still acted as Clarke’s Lexa would’ve.

So Clarke kissed her.

Lexa softly whimpered into her mouth in surprise, instantly melting into Clarke. When Clarke pulled away and those green eyes stared at her as though Lexa remembered – maybe her body did – Clarke wrapped her arms around Lexa’s neck and kissed her again.

It was some time before Clarke managed to pull away.

“What was that for?” Lexa rasped, a lazy smile tilting at her lips, eyes slowly fluttering open though remaining dark and hooded.

“For being you.” Clarke lightly smirked, pressed another tender kiss to the corner of Lexa’s mouth, then had to rush off before she grabbed the goofily grinning Heda again.

Clarke had polished Lexa’s armour herself, smoothing out the red sash with a pan filled with hot coals. She’d gone through her cleaning routine with her Fleimkepa kit, three times; her stomach completely unsettled with nerves at what might happen at the ceremony.

She’d tried to get Lexa to take The Flame in private, something that wasn’t unheard of and had happened more often than not in the past. But Lexa insisted that people would need to see and then they wouldn’t question her thereafter, reducing the risk of them finding out that she was without her memory if what they suspected about The Flame didn’t work.

Clarke was dubious, but she complied. It did make sense; the clans would need to see Lexa Ascend again, instantly legitimizing her as Commander, so even if Lexa didn’t regain her memories afterward, there would be nothing anyone could do about it. She would still be Heda.

This time, it was only Indra and Kane who sat as leaders amongst the ambassadors in the Throne Room. It was really not a good sign, because it meant that the people were losing hope. They also might not have believed the message that Clarke had sent and didn’t want to risk travelling to Polis and leaving their clans even more vulnerable to attack. It had been a while since Clarke had been able to gather with her allies, and she hoped that that was still what they were.

She welcomed everyone regardless, trying not to glare at Jon, who wouldn’t meet her eyes. He was the worst politician Clarke had ever met, seemingly unable to hide his reactions. She’d sort of liked that about him before, now though, not so much. Clarke had heard that he was the son of the Commander before Lexa, but the guy clearly wasn’t a warrior and Clarke had sort of felt sorry for him at how hard he was trying to be like the Azgeda ambassadors Clarke had dealt with in the past. But regardless of that, there was still the matter of Jon being in Polis when he really shouldn’t have been.

Clarke had already made up her mind to interrogate him about it later. She would have to have a word with Senna too, who was standing in the Throne Room under Riley’s watch. Clarke suspected that Senna had been the one to inform Lexa of where to find Jon. Because how else would Lexa have known when and where to meet the ambassador that had been hiding in Polis all this time?

Maybe Lexa would have her memories back by then and they could question them together… Clarke smiled at the thought, while she sterilised the scalpel and then picked up The Flame, because if Lexa got her memories back, interrogating people would be the last thing they’d be doing that night.

Clarke turned to Lexa, who sat crossed-legged on the floor in front of her throne, dressed in a long sleeved black top and pants, looking as though she didn’t have an entire room full of people gaping at her. Ryder was standing to the side, holding Lexa’s armour and Octavia would be assisting Clarke with the implantation.

Clarke fought the urge to ask Lexa whether she was okay, trying to keep her face neutral as she moved behind her and lowered onto her knees. She gently brushed Lexa’s volume of curls and braids to the side and drew in a shaky breath – mostly in preparation of the black blood she would soon see. She subtly gave Lexa’s shoulder a squeeze to let her know that everything would be okay, that Clarke would take out The Flame if anything seemed wrong. That she’d be as gentle as she could…

Or Clarke at least hoped that that was how Lexa would perceive the touch, before she cut the razor-sharp scalpel into Lexa’s nape, swallowing down the bile in her throat as Lexa’s blood spilled out.

“Ascende Superius.” Clarke hoarsely whispered, The Flame coming to life and almost instantly reached for Lexa as though in desperation. Clarke knew the feeling all too well, and quickly and carefully inserted The Flame, because the sooner it was in, the sooner she could close Lexa up again.

Lexa’s body jolted when The Flame hungrily burrowed into her and Clarke had to stop herself from snatching it back out again.

“You okay?” She softly murmured, heart pounding in her ears, not caring about the intense eyes on them.

The ambassadors were seemingly stuck between awe and suspicion at their Heda’s apparent resurrection. Clarke knew that the questions would come as soon as they were over the shock. She’d been keeping Lexa away from them since their arrival, but soon the Heda would need to stand in front of them and assume command of her people.

“Yes.” Came the stiff answer and Clarke wished she could see Lexa’s face, but she needed to close the wound.

“I’m gonna stitch you up, okay?”

Lexa nodded and Clarke knew it must’ve been painful as her body seemed to almost contract into itself.

Clarke slowly took the suture kit from Octavia. Slowly, because she was waiting for any sign that Lexa was in more discomfort than she should be. But when the Commander just continued to rigidly sit there, Clarke upped her pace and with a steadiness she hadn’t expected, carefully stitched Lexa back up again.

After finishing the suturing, cleaning the area with an antibiotic wipe Abby had given her on their visit and gently placing a bandage over it, Clarke rose up to her feet and went to stand in front of Lexa.

They didn’t speak, but Lexa took her cue and her eyes fluttered closed.

Clarke didn’t know what exactly to expect, or how the meditation part worked. All she could tell Lexa was to relax and go with her instincts. Indra had told Clarke that the process that they’d just undergone had happened at Lexa’s first Ascension and that when she had closed her eyes, she had remained still for a few minutes, woke again and recited the names of the previous Commanders, as had been expected of her.

Knowing the contents of her Journal, Clarke had wondered whether it was the Fleimkepa’s role to teach the winner of the Conclave the names of the long list of Commanders documented within it. No one would expect Lexa to recite them again, but Clarke had given the Journal to Lexa to study, just in case she woke and still didn’t have her memories and someone decided to question her. The Journal also stated that what was discussed with the Commanders when they Ascended was between them and the past Commanders, and not for anyone - not even the Fleimkepa - to know. Which had probably only added to the mythology of the Heda over years.

Through The Flame, the Heda had access to a wealth of knowledge and Clarke questioned the past Commanders’ willingness to share what they’d learned with the rest of their clans. Clarke remembered Lexa waking from a nightmare and telling Clarke that the Commanders were angry at her for going against tradition… Clarke had met Becca’s consciousness though; she was sure that Becca would approve of the legacy that Lexa wished to leave behind. Perhaps Becca had guided Lexa toward peace the first time? Clarke wondered whether Lexa would tell her if Clarke asked what happened when she Ascended… Would it be unfair to ask that of Lexa? According to the Journal, it was a sacred sacrament which only the Heda had earned the right to be apart of.

Noticing that more time had passed than she had anticipated, Clarke focused back on Lexa.

The time ticked by slowly while Lexa sat like she had in front of her bed on that day Clarke had found her in her room; on that day that she had died… Clarke’s palms grew sweaty and her heart was racing even faster than it had been when they’d entered the Throne Room earlier, because Indra hadn’t said that it would take this long…

Clarke resisted the urge to look back at the Trikru leader, because she couldn’t let the others see her worry.

Instead, she kept her eyes on Lexa, needing to touch her, feel her pulse and make sure that she was fine, despite Lexa’s face being calm and her shoulders relaxed.

Surely she must be conversing with the Commanders of the past, right? It must be working… Clarke’s nails dug into her palms and she gritted her teeth at the sudden thought that Lexa might not wake up again. Would taking out The Flame from a comatose person leave Lexa nothing but a shell? Would taking out The Flame mean that Lexa would wake up? It was all Clarke could do to wait a little bit longer and calm her frantic mind before she gave in to her panic and did something stupid.

It felt like an eternity had passed, but in reality it had probably been about fifty minutes. The longest fifty minutes of Clarke’s life. Much longer than Indra had reported Lexa’s first time had been, but eventually Lexa’s eyes fluttered open and Clarke could breathe easier again.

She stopped the rush of questions she had, watching Lexa trying to focus her eyes, clearly disorientated, but still, the Heda rose to her feet, unassisted, though Clarke almost went to help her, planting her feet just in time.

When Lexa was upright, Clarke paused for a moment to make sure that she would stay that way and then motioned Ryder forward. She had stressed the importance of him being careful of Lexa’s neck wound with so much emphasis, the poor man looked almost afraid as he gently clasped the Heda’s armour on.

Clarke accepted the helm of awe from Octavia, already glued up and waited for Octavia to strap the Heda’s knife to Lexa’s thigh. Having been so busy glaring at Ryder not to hurt Lexa, she only noticed when she walked forward, that the Commander’s eyes had intensely been focused on her the entire time.

Clarke’s breath hitched, having almost forgotten the level of intensity Lexa was capable of.

Wait a minute…

Clarke’s stomach knotted almost painfully and hand trembled as she reached up to place the final piece of Lexa’s outfit between her brows; watching as those green eyes fluttered closed at the touch and remained closed while Clarke struggled to move away again while her eyes feasted on the sight in front of her.

“All hail Leksa kom Trikru, Commander of the Blood!” Octavia called out, even though Clarke had been supposed to, but Clarke was waiting for Lexa to open her eyes again, not caring about the ceremony or the others in the room, because she needed to see if what she suspected was true.

At Octavia’s heralding, the entire room fell to their knees and Lexa’s eyes flew open again. Clarke forced herself to take two steps back and lowered down as well.

Staring up, she saw that Lexa’s eyes were still only on her though, filled with even more emotion than they had been the first time Clarke had bowed to Lexa like that; staring at Clarke in that way that even on her knees, made Clarke feel like the most powerful and loved woman in the world.

But then Lexa rapidly blinked and finally turned her intensity toward the rest of the room.

“Rise.”

Even as she shakily rose, Clarke’s belly twisted at the confidence and authority she heard. She wasn’t sure how to describe it, but Lexa didn’t sound the way she had before taking The Flame. She sounded the way that she used to and Clarke just wanted to ask her, or to have Lexa give Clarke some sort of sign that she remembered.

Lexa regally lowered herself onto her throne.

And god, Clarke’s heart couldn’t take it anymore. She knew that she should’ve been controlling the meeting, but instead she just stood there staring at Lexa talking to her people. Smoothly and calmly. She spoke about her disappointment at the state of their world and that she wouldn’t accept it. That she was back now and that there would be peace again.

Clarke unintentionally zoned out as she just watched Lexa; memorising every feature, every detail of the Heda of the Thirteen Clans sat on her Antler Throne once again. After months of anarchy, it felt as though the world had finally righted itself.

Clarke startled at a pinch to her side, where Octavia had stealthily moved to and focused back in when Lexa declared that a Summit would be held in five weeks’ time, where she would expect the leader of each clan to be present and swear their allegiance to the Coalition once again. Clarke registered only Jon’s ashen face, before the Heda sternly dismissed them, with such authority and firmness, that the room almost instantly cleared.

She caught Kane’s concerned look and at least managed what she hoped was a reassuring smile before he went and told her mother that she was acting strange and Abby stormed Polis as a result.

“Stay, Senna kom Azgedakru.” Lexa’s cool voice commanded and Clarke gaped and just had the presence of mind to not point at the other blonde and shout ‘I knew it!’. Clarke had suspected a link of course, and she wouldn’t be surprised if Jon and Senna have been working together. Senna didn’t have any Azgeda markings on her, but neither did Jon. Those were only reserved for warriors.

“You too, Fleimkepa.” Lexa added, as though Clarke had had any intention of leaving, definitely not after the reveal of Senna’s true background.

Clarke looked questioningly at Lexa, mostly just admiring how tingly that red cape falling over Lexa’s left shoulder made her feel. Like Superman’s; her father’s favourite comic book hero. The man Clarke had been named after. Jake used to broadly grin while he explained that he’d added the ‘e’ to make her name sound more feminine. Both Clarke and Abby had always just fondly rolled their eyes at him when he’d tell people that.

But then it was only the three of them in the Throne Room and green eyes locked onto Clarke. Sage green eyes, filled with too many things; haunted and familiar as they had been in Clarke’s dreams.

With a heart filling rapidly with hope and apprehension, and a tummy swirling with nervous knots, Clarke gasped, a shiver running down her spine… And she’d realized it already of course, but life had taught Clarke Griffin to be sceptical and wary of anything good that was thrown in her path:

“I remember.” Lexa stoically confirmed.

Chapter 8

Chapter Text

Lexa sat on her Antler Throne and stared at a - for once – genuinely nervous looking Senna.

Clarke wasn’t sure what to do. She still stood frozen in place where she had been since Lexa’s green eyes had fluttered open and she’d rested her gaze on Clarke; looking at her in that way that no one had ever looked at Clarke Griffin before.

“You will pack your things and leave Polis immediately.”

Clarke’s heart jolted for an insane moment, before she let out a relieved breath when she realised that Lexa was talking to Senna. And what? Lexa was just going to let that Bitch leave?

“Leksa, please, you can’t do this…” Senna’s voice thickly quavered.

“I can do this. I should do more.” Lexa stonily remarked. “You nursed me back to health, Senna, not out of goodwill, but because you intended on selling my allegiance to the highest bidder.”

Clarke nodded her agreement with Lexa, even when the other two women barely acknowledged her presence in the room. She still felt that Lexa should put Senna on the Cutting Tree, or at least keep her locked up so that they could interrogate her about Azgeda’s plans. Having had Carl Emerson come back to bite her in the ass, not once, but twice, Clarke was a big fan of tying up loose ends.

By killing them.

Dead.

“Not the highest bidder, Leksa, but those with a worthy cause…” Senna tentatively explained. “And I wouldn’t have received any compensation other than that my people would be safe under the Heda’s protection.”

“Your people will be safe under the Heda’s protection once your leader swears his allegiance to the Coalition.”

“Leksa –

- no.” Lexa fiercely cut Senna off. “I had realised your attempt at manipulation and for months I entertained it so that I could learn the things I had forgotten, for myself. My cooperation ensured my safety during that time and prompted you to share all you knew without concern…” Lexa grimaced, though Clarke thought she might’ve been attempting a sneer.

Senna’s betrayal was clearly weighing heavy on Lexa’s heart and it was the only reason Clarke hadn’t vehemently demanded an execution yet.

“A few powerful people are going to be very upset with you, Senna… I suggest you run now, while you can. You should never have made promises in my name. You should never have attempted to twist my feelings of gratitude to serve your agenda.”

Senna fell to her knees, eyes pleading as she stared up at Lexa.

“Forgive me, Heda.” She whispered. “I knew of the mistakes you had made in the past. Mistakes that had so many of our people suffer. I will go, but please, you cannot trust Skaikru. They are exactly like the Maunon! They are the Bringers of Death!”

Lexa’s jaw clenched, eyes growing cold and unforgiving.

Clarke shivered at the look.

“My patience is wearing thin, Senna.” Lexa’s voice was deadly calm, the air around them dropping a few degrees. “No matter your actions thereafter, you did save my life and that’s why I’m sparing you yours today. But I swear, if you don’t leave now, that fact will not protect you much longer.”

Senna’s cheeks were flushed and wet as she softly cried, but she slowly got to her feet and slumped toward the exit regardless, futilely wiping at her face. And Lexa, despite her hardened features, looked close to tears as well.

Clarke followed after Senna, till the large double doors of the Throne Room and met Riley’s eyes, where he, Ryder, Octavia and Luna were predictably waiting. Clarke still wasn’t sure that just letting Senna go was the wisest thing to do here, but it was what Lexa wanted and Clarke would respect that. For now.

“Make sure she leaves and that the guards know not to allow her back into Polis.” Clarke instructed and after a nod from Riley, turned to Octavia. “Can you make sure that the delegations are settled? Those who want to leave tonight to relay the news to their leaders are free to go. Those who want to rest and take their leave in the morning may do so as well.”

Octavia’s stare was expectant: does she remember?! Her eyes seemed to scream at Clarke.

Clarke couldn’t help but smile brilliantly and gave a nod that was met with a large grin from her friend and relieved ones from Luna and Ryder. She left them to their thoughts and duties and closed the doors again, turning back to the Antler Throne with a nervously knotting stomach.

The room became instantly suffocating and Clarke started to tensely fidget while Lexa gazed off at nothing. Only the Commander’s eyes rapidly moved while she clutched onto the arms of her throne with a white-knuckled grip.

“Leksa?” Clarke cautiously whispered and Lexa’s entire body stilled.

She then stiffly rose from her throne and turned her back to Clarke, in order to stare out toward her balcony. Cautiously, Clarke walked toward Lexa’s side, noticing the Heda’s spine grow implausibly rigid, while her jaw twitched with tension the closer Clarke got.

“Do you remember me too?” Clarke rasped, attempting to swallow down the painful knot in her throat.

She already knew the answer, but needed Lexa to just say something. This should’ve been a happy moment of relief and reconciliation and hugs and kisses and yet it felt as though Lexa was a million miles away. Further away than she had felt without her memory…

Did Lexa blame Clarke for her death as Clarke had been fearing all this time?

“I died…” Lexa murmured, still not looking at Clarke. “I died and everything I built fell apart.” The dread pooling in Clarke’s belly turned to acid. “I died because I heard the gunfire coming from your room and disregarded everything I had ever learned as a warrior…” Lexa inhaled a shaky breath. “I ignored my duty to my people. I ignored my senses. With every shot fired, a cold chill of terror struck at my heart and nothing else mattered but getting to you.”

“Leksa…” Clarke’s voice broke and she took a step closer, but Lexa visibly recoiled into herself, causing Clarke to instantly halt again.

“After Mount Weather, I had mourned my betrayal. I mourned what could’ve been… I was so distracted by what I’d done to you that I hadn’t even noticed that Nia was poisoning the ambassadors with doubt against me…” Lexa trailed off and seemed to brace herself. “Love is weakness, Klark...” Lexa whispered and it was Clarke’s turn to flinch as though struck.

“No.” Clarke tried to argue, her heart frantically hammering, because she refused to lose Lexa after just getting her back.

“I can’t fail my people again.” Lexa tremulously murmured.

Through her panic and sorrow, Clarke finally managed to focus enough to take in the woman in front of her. Lexa still stood bristling, not meeting Clarke’s eyes. And that was her first sign right there: Lexa always looked Clarke straight in the eye. No matter if they were arguing or not, Lexa had always been strong in her conviction.

Clarke watched the way Lexa’s throat bobbed as she thickly swallowed and how she was strung so tightly, her entire body trembled with tension. It seemed as though if Clarke were to only exhale in her direction, that Lexa’s resolve would entirely crumble.

Clarke pushed down her fear that Lexa might blame her for what Titus had done and decided to trust in the woman standing in front of her. The Lexa Clarke remembered wouldn’t blame her, even when Clarke still blamed herself. That bullet had been meant for Clarke after all…

Gathering herself as best she could, Clarke took a step back and watched the way Lexa’s shoulders sagged just a little bit. Abby had warned Clarke to be careful with Lexa, even more so once she remembered again; to give Lexa some time to reconcile the woman she had been, with the life she had lived without her memories. Anyone would’ve been completely overwhelmed under the circ*mstances and Lexa had the extra pressure of her warring nation to deal with. It stood to reason that Lexa’s immediate instinct would be to cut out something as intense and complicated as her and Clarke’s relationship in order to just deal with everything.

Clarke took another step back, but a little to the front so that she could get a clearer view of Lexa’s face, where the Commander still - very uncharacteristically - refused to make eye contact.

“Up on the Ark,” Clarke softly rasped, noticing Lexa visibly fight to not look at her, “I didn’t have a concern in the world.” She wistfully smiled. “I was young and happy and one of the things I liked most, was falling in love…”

Lexa’s brows knitted and in her confusion at Clarke’s odd confession, she seemed to unconsciously relax a little bit more.

“You know that feeling you get when you like someone?” Clarke elaborated. “Those butterflies in your stomach?” She didn’t expect Lexa to answer, so just continued on. “I thought that that was what love felt like, or the beginnings of it at least… And I chased after it; enjoying that rush of nervous anticipation when you get to know someone… Building up to that first kiss...” Clarke wistfully smiled at how young and naïve she’d once been. “The butterflies wouldn’t last very long though; they were mostly caused by my own expectations instead of by the person I thought I liked.” She let out a self-deprecating sigh, mourning her innocence.

“I didn’t feel butterflies when we kissed that first time.” Clarke’s heart clenched at the pain that crossed Lexa’s features and quickly continued. “God, Leksa,” she chuckled, “it felt like a flock of birds threatening to tear me apart from the inside.” Clarke frowned at her words; it sounded like a horror movie. “It was unexpected and so very real and intense and more than anything I could’ve ever imagined… It hit me like a brick to the face and it was happening at the worst possible time.” She laughed again and watched in satisfaction as Lexa’s eyes fluttered closed as though she was savouring the sound and perhaps basking in the confession.

Clarke regretted her next words, but she said them anyway. Because Lexa was stubborn and the reason the two of them worked, was because they weren’t afraid to challenge one another.

“I mourned you for a year…” Clarke husked, her voice breaking as the grief inadvertently washed over her once again.

Lexa turned to her then, eyes large and filled with remorse as though she blamed herself for Clarke’s pain. Clarke almost burst out laughing at how Lexa couldn’t help but wear her heart on her sleeve. She could see Lexa’s affection for her clear as day and it made her heart stutter even as the lump in her throat grew thicker.

“I fell even more in love with you as I listened to the stories your people would tell about you.”

Lexa’s chest heaved as she intently stared at Clarke as though the blonde was something wonderful and precious and Lexa might combust with adoration for Clarke at any moment.

“And the only thing that helped me to move forward during that time, was that our people needed hope.” Clarke swallowed uselessly at the pestering knot in her throat. “I tried my best to keep the Coalition together; to preserve your legacy of peace.”

Clarke hadn’t expected to say that part; she hadn’t even considered until that moment what Lexa would think of how she’d tried and failed to stop the destruction that had been tearing their people apart during the clan leaders’ struggle for power. All of a sudden, Clarke felt woefully inadequate and her eyes glistened with tears of shame.

“You did as I knew you would.” Lexa declared, taking a step toward her, even going so far as to reach out a hand to Clarke’s cheek, before cringing and bringing it back toward her body before they could touch. “I’ve seen my people at war. You will never know how many your actions have saved this past year. Don’t ever doubt the great leader you are, Klark.”

Clarke let out a breath. Her mother had failed to warn her that Lexa getting her memory back would be overwhelming for Clarke too. Her emotions felt all over the place, but just like old times, Lexa had given her a much needed confidence boost and Clarke lifted her chin and stared into those loving green eyes until Lexa took a step back and her gaze anxiously shifted off at something to Clarke’s right.

Clarke smirked.

“We did what we could with what we had.” Clarke conceded, it wasn’t just her alone who had held together what parts of the Coalition they could. Lexa knew this already. “And now our Heda is back and she’ll bring us peace, just like she had done before.”

Lexa’s eyes shifted to Clarke again, a bit more composed, a bit more in control, a bit more Lexa… Yet still far too wary for Clarke’s liking.

“And like I said before, it’s been a year. I can wait for you a little bit longer.” Lexa’s lips parted as though she would object to Clarke waiting and Clarke smiled while she watched the Heda struggle for the words to reprimand her.

“Klark…” Was all Lexa managed to get out, and really, Clarke would never grow tired of hearing the way her name rolled off of Lexa’s tongue.

“So while you focus on our people, I’m gonna be over here, supporting you and loving you,” Lexa’s eyes shot full of tears she was bravely fighting against, “and when we succeed, you’ll realise that the Commander doesn’t have to carry this burden on her own ever again.” Clarke warmly smiled, resisting the urge to press her mouth against Lexa’s slightly parted lips. “And that my love for you will give you nothing but strength.”

Not even when they’d made love for the first time had Lexa looked as vulnerable as she did in that moment. Clarke wanted to hug her, but was sure that Lexa would shatter the instant Clarke touched her trembling body. Clarke guiltily bit her lip. She’d pushed for too much too soon. But she needed Lexa to know that Clarke wasn’t afraid to love her. That Clarke would do so openly and with pride and be there for her no matter what. That she would be patient.

“Reshop, Heda.” Clarke murmured with a nostalgic smile. “We’ll discuss what to do about our people in the morning.”

She then quickly turned on her heel, determined to give Lexa the space she needed to find herself again.

It had been difficult, sleeping a few doors down from Lexa, when every part of Clarke was aching to hold her.

Not really sure whether she’d actually slept or not, Clarke got out of bed at the first sign of day, done with pretending that she wasn’t dying to see Lexa again. Still, she lingered in her room, taking a bath and washing her hair, frowning at her dull Fleimkepa robes, yet putting them on regardless. And after trying to eat something through the excited knotting in her stomach, Clarke made her way to Lexa’s room, knowing that the woman would’ve been up with the sun like she’d been before and during her amnesia.

Clarke grinned brightly at Ryder and Riley when they exited the elevator, but it slipped off at the look on their faces.

“What happened?” Clarke asked, already growing nauseous with panic.

Riley cleared his throat and looked at Ryder.

“Heda has left…” Ryder guiltily murmured, looking for all the world that he was scared that Clarke would hurt him, even when he was over twice her size.

Clarke took a threatening step forward and sneered up at him as though she was actually capable of doing so.

“What do you mean she left?” Clarke seethed. “Where did she go and why aren’t you with her?”

“We don’t know where she has gone, Fleimkepa.” Riley anxiously explained. “Heda asked us not to follow her…”

“And you just listened!?” Clarke angrily shouted.

“She is Heda…” Ryder needlessly added, because Clarke already understood. They were the Fleimkepa’s guards, inducted into the Circle of the Flame. By right, Lexa should appoint her own personal guards.

Clarke also knew Lexa: if she didn’t want the two guards with her and they had insisted, Lexa would’ve made them listen.

Riley and Ryder knew that too.

Without another word, Clarke turned around in a huff and stalked off to look for Lexa, saying nothing when they dutifully followed after her. Clarke would make it up to them later, they didn’t deserve the anxious shouting. She would do that as soon as she found Lexa and her heart calmed its frantic rhythm again.

Tracking down Lexa proved easier than Clarke had anticipated.

Once she started asking around, Clarke found that the Commander was the talk of Polis. People reported having seen Lexa walk passed with awed expressions, still trying to wrap their heads around the fact that Lexa was back from the dead. Even before, Lexa had reached legend status when a few Grounders reported her presence in the City of Light after her ‘death’.

Clarke tried to be patient through all the reverent gushing, firmly pushing for answers – really they could just point her in a direction – and after a few stops, Clarke finally found the silent figure stood up on the hill the Natblidas had used for their practical training.

Clarke froze at the sympathetic ache that clutched onto her heart, because of course… It had been over a year ago for Clarke, but it was all still so new to Lexa…

She swiftly turned around to face Ryder and Riley trailing her at a respectable distance, still wary of her wrath.

“Wait for me further down the path and make sure no one comes up here.” Clarke instructed.

“Sha Fleimkepa.” They softly echoed, sparing a melancholy glance over Clarke’s shoulder and left to do what they were told.

Clarke drew in a deep breath and turned to Lexa again, slowly walking forward and rounding on the still stationary woman, until Clarke was standing in front of her. Lexa’s entire body was visibly vibrating with emotion.

“Leksa…” Clarke sadly murmured, swallowing thickly when watery green eyes met hers.

“I should’ve been dead...” Lexa’s breath hitched and her bottom lip quivered. “I was not supposed to mourn them too, Klark...”

It was the ‘too’ that crushed both of their resolves.

In an instant, Clarke had wrapped her arms around Lexa whose body shook with heart-wrenching sobs as she completely fell apart in Clarke’s embrace. Through the tears in her own eyes, Clarke carefully lowered them down to the ground, cradling Lexa’s suddenly small frame against her chest, rubbing her back and stroking her hair, as Lexa’s tears soaked right through the Fleimkepa robes.

Clarke stayed strong and solid. And through her own haze of sorrow, hope bloomed in Clarke’s aching heart, because Lexa was allowing the comfort and was clinging to Clarke as though she was a lifeline.

Tenderly, Clarke rocked Lexa in her arms, knowing she would sit there for as long as it took to allow Lexa the moment of vulnerability; to cry for her Natblidas, for the many lost during A.L.I.E.’s violent seizure of Polis, and probably for Titus as well, because he had been Lexa’s teacher and advisor for years and no matter what Clarke might feel toward the man, she knew that Lexa had cared about him.

Clarke wretchedly wondered if, with the return of her memories, Lexa was mourning the loss of her parents, Costia, Anya and Gustus, all over again too.

Clarke wasn’t sure how long they sat there, Lexa continuing to cling to her even when her sobs had subsided. Still, Clarke felt that it hadn’t been long enough, more than ready to shield Lexa from the world for however long it took. War be damned.

But as Clarke had expected, Lexa pulled away too soon, wiping at her wet cheeks; coyly and sadly smiling when Clarke leaned forward to do it for her. They stared at each other for a long moment, Clarke’s hand cupping Lexa’s face, Lexa’s green eyes swarming with a million emotions.

Clarke rapidly blinked to get herself unstuck, wanting to pull Lexa back to her chest, but Lexa got to her feet and helped Clarke up after her. The Heda stood awkward for a moment, and it was a strange and endearing sight as Clarke had never seen Lexa awkward before. Lexa with her memories that is. She hoped that Lexa had wept in her arms because she trusted Clarke enough to do so and not because Clarke just so happened to stumble upon her at that moment.

Clarke liked to think that it was the former when she watched Lexa’s awkwardness leave her and the mask the Heda wore for her people, was effortlessly pulled back on. It was such an abrupt and obvious transformation, that it jolted Clarke into the role of Fleimkepa.

“When you’re ready, Heda. There’s someone I would like you to meet.” Clarke bit her lip and frowned at herself.

Right.

They’d been allies and they’d been lovers, but they hadn’t actually been together. It would take time, like any relationship would, for them to integrate themselves into a romantic partnership. When Lexa of course, eventually, allowed herself to be happy and stopped viewing getting accidently shot, as a personal failure to her people.

The Commander curiously stared at Clarke for a moment, a small, tender, smile creeping up at the corners of her mouth as she watched Clarke’s discomfort with unabashed affection.

“Lead the way, Klark.” Lexa murmured and losing all control of her motor functions, Clarke wildly grinned back at her.

There was just something about Lexa and children that made Clarke melt into a puddle of pink glittery goo.

She stood off to the side with Mikah, watching Lexa with Milah in her arms, her eyes sparkling with the happiness and hope Clarke just knew meeting the tiny Natblida would cause. Milah had done the same for Clarke after all. She was also a reason - a reminder - that the Nightblood line was still running strong and that they needed to stop this war so that the children of all the clans, would have a better future. There wasn’t a doubt in Clarke’s mind that Lexa would put a stop to the Conclave being to the death. Not after mourning her young charges and not with the fervent backing of the Fleimkepa.

As Fleimkepa, Clarke of course could change the rules herself, but there would be less of an outcry about tampering with an almost century old tradition, when the directive wasn’t coming from a Skaiyon and instead from the Heda who’d returned from the dead to bring peace to their people once again. From the talk Clarke had been subjected to earlier in her search for Lexa, their people thought the Commander to be practically immortal.

Clarke wasn’t yet sure whether that was a good thing or not…

She smiled when Mikah took hold of her upper arm and gently squeezed to express his happiness for Clarke. The entire Polis knew that the Fleimkepa loved the Heda. Clarke hadn’t really been subtle that night she’d destroyed the City of Light. Enough people had witnessed her breakdown thereafter for word to have spread like wildfire. It only confirmed the rumours that had already been flying around when Clarke had first become a guest in Polis and was appointed Skaikru Ambassador, instead of the Heda killing Wanheda for her power, like everyone had expected would happen.

She frowned when Mikah’s hand snapped away from her as though he’d been burned and followed his terrified gaze to a glacial green glare. Clarke smirked and fondly shook her head at Lexa, not in the mood to lecture the Commander on how it wasn’t cool to tell Clarke that love was weakness and to then proceed to glare a grown man into subjugation because of a friendly touch.

Clarke of course understood that Lexa was still struggling to gain control over her emotions and would give her some time to process. She couldn’t even imagine what it must feel like to be in Lexa’s shoes after everything that had happened to her and the world, since she’d been shot.

A tiny hand landed directly onto Lexa’s full lips, literally pulling the Heda’s attention back to the little girl still in her arms. The icy glare melted in an instant and Lexa smiled beautifully when Milah cupped her cheeks and started excitedly telling Lexa something in a combination of English and Trigedasleng that made no sense whatsoever.

Clarke could practically feel Mikah exhaling in relief.

When she and Lexa had arrived, he’d had his daughter in his arms and Clarke was treated to the sight of someone managing the humblest of bows whilst holding a toddler. Milah had squealed her enjoyment - thinking it was a game – and had instantly and effortlessly, won the Commander’s heart.

“Relax, Mikah. She won’t hurt you.” Clarke tried to softly reassure.

He nodded, but maintained his distance. Even through his fear, Clarke saw his eyes glint with admiration and hope.

Mikah realised the importance of a bond between Lexa and Milah. That Lexa would become Milah’s mentor and teach her the Pillars of being a Commander; that under Lexa’s tutelage, Milah would one day become the most powerful person in Polis; in all of the clans. And that Lexa would teach Milah to be a skilled warrior, who would rule the world with wisdom and compassion.

Mikah would do anything to ensure that his daughter had her best chance, and Clarke would do everything that she could to ensure that too. Because it had recently become Clarke’s earnest hope – ultimate purpose - that one day, Lexa herself would call on the Ambassadors of the Coalition, so that they could witness the Heda passing The Flame on to her chosen Natblida.

And in so doing, Leksa kom Trikru, would establish a new tradition of succession for their people.

Chapter 9

Chapter Text

It was with some convincing - mainly because Lexa felt more comfortable with Clarke keeping her trusted people - that Clarke persuaded Lexa to accept Ryder and Riley in the Heda’s personal guard. She absolved them of their vow to the Circle of the Flame and even though the Circle’s sole purpose for existing was to protect the Commander and The Flame, Clarke knew that Lexa needed to have her own trusted people. Besides, Clarke had Octavia and a dozen handpicked warriors that were Indra-approved to call on whenever needed.

Lexa eventually relented, most likely only because Clarke was insisting. The Heda had known Riley and Ryder for years and they had been in Lexa’s guard before she - before her accident.

Though it was more difficult than ever, Clarke continued to give Lexa her space. Mildly comforted that Riley and Ryder were Lexa’s men now, so if she were to be doing anything hazardous, she would take them right along with her, instead of trying to do it alone to avoid worrying Clarke.

Clarke had her own duties to perform, like sending off the ambassadors and leaders of the Thirteen Clans. Kane and Indra were beside themselves with enthusiasm and at least Clarke knew that no matter what, the two of them would be swearing allegiance to the Heda in five weeks’ time. Lexa had been there too, of course, but Clarke had held herself back from grabbing the Heda by her hair and just kissing her face off for a few hours, or days... Maybe for the rest of her life.

Notably absent, was the Ice Nation delegation, who had already set out the previous evening before Clarke even left Lexa in the Throne Room to go and get her hands on Jon. Senna had left too and Clarke wondered if she had gone with them. Clarke still had a feeling that it wasn’t the last they’d seen of Senna… Clarke almost wanted her to come back, because then Clarke would have a reason to do what she should’ve done the second Senna had opened her mouth and stated she’d been the one to keep Lexa away for almost a year.

After the send-off, when Lexa went to do whatever Commanders did when they were at home and not at war, Clarke and Octavia went to hang out on the balcony in Clarke’s room, enjoying the afternoon sun. It was the only place Clarke ever allowed herself to not wear her official robes.

“You okay? Thought those worry lines on your forehead would ease with your girlfriend back?” Octavia laughed as though she was making a joke, even when her face was filled with honest concern.

“I’m losing my mind, O.” Clarke sighed. “Whenever I don’t see her, I start doubting that she’s really back.” Clarke confessed with a wry chuckle, remembering her panic attack at Lexa’s Tree. “I keep on thinking that I’ll wake up at any moment only to find out that I ate some bad berries and had been in a hallucinogenic state for the last few days... I’m tense the entire time until I physically see her again and then once I’m convinced that she’s real and actually there, I start worrying that something’s going to happen to her again…”

Clarke ran her hand through her hair; no matter how many times she told herself not to stress so much, that Lexa could take care of herself, Clarke always ended up doing it. The only time she was even remotely calm, was when she and Lexa were alone together, no threats in sight and Clarke could see for herself that Lexa was fine.

“It’s understandable.” Octavia replied and slung a comforting arm around Clarke, pulling her in close.

“It’s ridiculous and counterproductive.” Clarke huffed. “I need to do my job, but just the thought of losing her again is almost debilitating.”

Octavia was quiet for a moment. There was nothing much that she could say. This was Clarke’s internal battle to overcome, no one could fight it for her.

“If it helps at all, I’ll be watching her too and I’ve made a few friends who’ll do the same. People we can trust.”

Clarke smiled and burrowed her face into Octavia’s shoulder. It did help Clarke’s paranoia just a little bit to have that knowledge in her mind next time she couldn’t find Lexa fast enough and started freaking out.

“Just give yourself some time to process this.” Octavia wisely instructed.

“Thanks, O.” Clarke whispered, throwing her arm around Octavia’s waist and hugging her closer.

The next day had the Fleimkepa storming down the corridor on the Heda’s floor, angrily marching toward Lexa’s room where it was still early enough for Riley and Ryder to be in the process of switching their shift. Clarke made a beeline for Lexa’s door, probably looking as though she was going to kick it down, when the two hulking figures stepped in her path: a solid wall of muscle and armour that had Clarke halting and glaring up at them.

“Let. Me. Through.” Clarke quietly seethed.

The two warriors looked at each other and then sent almost pained, yet sweetly apologetic looks at Clarke, but didn’t move.

Right. They didn’t answer to her anymore.

Clarke took a breath and tried to calm herself and not take her anger out on the two of them, especially when they were doing exactly what she’d asked of them to do: Protect their Heda against all threats. Even pissed off blondes they knew loved her and wouldn’t harm a hair on their Heda’s pretty little head.

Clarke exhaled and slumped in defeat.

“Fine. I’ll knock?” She conceded with a broad, sardonic smile.

They looked dubious, but moved out of her way and then Clarke flew passed them, bursting through the doors, abruptly halting with Ryder and Riley almost colliding into her back when she discovered Lexa seated crossed leg at the doors of her balcony, eyes closed and clearly meditating.

The trio froze when the Heda’s eyes fluttered open, her head tilting at their flushed appearances, before intense forest green settled on the blonde glaring daggers at her.

“Leave us.” Lexa calmly directed over Clarke’s shoulder and gracefully rose to her feet.

“Why is it that I had to hear from one of the guards that you’ve requested that Indra send you warriors for a journey you’ll be undertaking tomorrow morning?” Clarke coldly asked, before the door was even properly shut behind her.

“You’re upset.” Lexa stated, eyes searching Clarke’s face, as though this wasn’t obvious already.

Clarke counted to ten in her head.

“I will be setting out to meet with the clans before the next Summit.” Lexa explained.

And suddenly it made sense why Lexa hadn’t called for the Summit to be held sooner. Clarke had thought it a mistake to allow their enemies so much time to plan against the Heda, but Lexa was going to take that time to go and see for herself what was happening in their world.

“Were you going to tell me, or were you just going to leave?” Clarke narrowed it down for the most likely deliberately obtuse Heda.

“Of course I intended on informing you, Klark.”

“When?”

“During the course of today.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“I can’t really say, but I will be sure to be back before the Summit.” Lexa’s lips tilted charmingly and the urge to smack her lessened considerably.

Clarke scowled at how easy she was.

“I’m coming with you.” Clarke finally got to the heart of the matter.

“No.” Lexa deadpanned.

“It’s not up for discussion, Leksa.”

“You are needed here in Polis.” Lexa tightly smiled with worried eyes.

“I’m not the Poliskeeper, am I?” Clarke sarcastically bit back.

“I will be perfectly safe.” Lexa continued to state her case. “You yourself just said that I have called for warriors to accompany me.”

Clarke pondered that for all of two seconds, fighting back a snort of disbelief. Because how could Lexa seriously think that any part of Clarke would be okay with her going off and travelling her lands with the threat in the North at its highest now that Solas was probably extra intent on a war since the Commander had publicly called him out to join the Coalition.

“Klark…” It was a stern warning that Lexa had made up her mind and that the matter was non-negotiable.

“Either you allow me in your delegation and we travel together, or I take my own guards and follow after you.”

Lexa lifted a brow, half amused and half put out.

“My responsibility is to protect The Flame, and as the Journal of the First Commander states, while it’s inside the Heda, the Commander becomes The Flame. Which is you. So I’m coming with you to do my job. And you may be the authority now, but you can’t stop me from doing that.”

“Titus –

- I don’t care what Titus did!” Clarke screamed, tears of frustration and fear burning her eyes. “The Journal says that I’m with you at all times to protect you or to perform the rights when I couldn’t! I am not Titus! Titus shot you! Titus kill- he almost,” Clarke’s breath caught in her chest and she had to focus on her breathing to calm herself.

Lexa helplessly looked on, seemingly torn as to what to do about the Fleimkepa losing it in front of her.

“I am the Flamekeeper,” Clarke managed to pull herself together, “and for all intents and purposes, you are The Flame. I go where you go. Titus had failed you. I won’t do the same.” She vowed.

Lexa stared at her with a soft understanding that made Clarke want to look away, but she determinedly held the Heda’s gaze, while her heart continued to hammer, readying herself for however long this fight would need to last until Lexa gave in.

“We leave at sunrise, Fleimkepa.” Lexa amicably conceded.

Clarke clenched her jaw and gave a firm nod, before swiftly leaving the room again.

They didn’t see each other again before meeting at the stables the next morning. Clarke had had a million things to do before her journey and she went to spend some time with Milah to explain that she was going to be gone for a while. She’d had dinner with Octavia, Luna and the little family, making sure that they would have everything they needed while she was gone, discussing with Luna escape routes and destinations to use as safehouses should Milah need to be taken somewhere else for whatever reason.

At sunrise though, Clarke and Octavia met Lexa and her guards where the Heda was frowning at her large, yet mostly empty stables.

“I sent most of your horses to our allies, to aid them in patrolling their borders…” Clarke uncertainly confessed.

Polis was as rich as the Heda who presided over it. When Lexa was still alive – uhm, before everyone had thought she died – Polis had had plenty, because the Coalition had ensured it. Where the Commanders of before had taken from the clans just because they could - often disrupting the manufacture and growth of resources, effectively limiting them - through the careful distribution the Coalition had facilitated, Lexa’s allies had been able to very generously, offer her an abundance of gifts of gratitude.

“Good.” Lexa said with a stern nod, as though she would’ve done it herself and then smiled as she patted the mane of her shiny black horse. “This one has always been my favourite.”

“I know.” Clarke smiled; she’d kept the stallion for that very reason.

Lexa glanced at her, eyes soft and stare intimate.

“Polis has grown in population over the last few years.” Lexa seemingly randomly stated. “It’s practically a clan on its own…”

Clarke nodded her agreement. They were five times the size of Arkadia and still expanding.

“I was hoping that you would take the time our journey offers to consider running the Capitol on a more official basis…” Lexa trailed off, intently studying Clarke’s surprised reaction. “Titu- The Fleimkepas of the past had mainly been responsible for the Conclave, extracting and placing The Flame, and to be Teacher and Protector to the Commander. After I Ascended, I had requested that the duty of Teacher be extended to the Nightbloods who came to us to train…”

Lexa tilted her head as though she was thinking carefully on her words.

“Polis is my responsibility, as are each of the thirteen clans. You have done so well in my absence though.”

Clarke beamed so abruptly and uncontrollably she was surprised she didn’t scare Lexa off. The Heda instead just returned the wide grin with a warm smile of her own.

“I would like to focus on training and teaching the Nightbloods and on relations between our allies to ensure that the Coalition isn’t as easily corrupted as it had been before... Perhaps you and I could come to some sort of agreement where I hand over the daily functioning of the city to you. Please understand that I am by no means attempting to shirk my responsibilities and will of course assist you with anything you need, Klark, but you seem to have everything running smoothly and I don’t want to disrupt –

- of course I will.” Clarke cut off the adorable rambling – which Lexa apparently was very capable of even with her memories. Clarke took it as a good sign that Lexa was showing her more of herself behind the Heda mask.

Lexa sent her a relieved smile and finally they mounted their horses.

“My warriors will meet us on our journey to the Boat Clan.” Lexa stated while they made their way out of the stables.

They walked their horses through the streets of the city, where the citizens of Polis were just waking up, excitedly waving to them and Lexa stiffly acknowledged the attention.

“So…” Clarke murmured with a mischievous smile from where she was riding at the Heda’s side, “does this make me the Queen of Polis now?”

The answering grin she got was as indulgent as it was affectionate.

They visited their allies with a small army of about fifty warriors accompanying them, all made up of Trigedakru. Lexa asked Clarke to do introductions to those leaders she didn’t know; those who had risen up in the ranks, staged coups, or had replaced those who had fallen during A.L.I.E.’s seizure of Polis in Lexa’s absence.

En route to each clan, Lexa would send a messenger riding ahead to announce her imminent arrival. So when their delegation entered the villages, the people were already stood gathered in the streets to welcome their Heda. They did so with deep bows and their leader would offer the Commander their throne, or the seat at the head of their table depending on how their respective hierarchies worked.

Clarke was proud to always be offered the position at Lexa’s right, even when she hadn’t been part of the initial itinerary. She had been the one to cultivate and maintain those relationships of course and Lexa didn’t shy away from honouring Clarke’s efforts whenever the opportunity arose. It was great, but all so very painfully professional. Like she and Lexa were just colleagues who worked together extremely well.

Clarke shared her tent with Octavia at night and during the day, Lexa was surrounded by people, talking strategy, pulling information from her spies and mapping their route through her lands. They didn’t spend any alone time together and Clarke had to constantly remind herself that she’d promised to be supportive and patient.

Well, they did spend some time alone together, upon their visit to the Glowing Forest.

Much to Clarke’s delight, it had been Lexa who had asked whether Clarke wanted to go for a walk when they returned to their tents after dinner with the Trishana leader. He was somehow distantly related to Lexa’s mother and took every opportunity he could to remind everyone of that. He was a loyal man though, so Clarke didn’t mind the annoyance. Lexa had let it slide too, by not acknowledging it at all.

Their guards made themselves invisible once they reached the forest on horseback and dismounted, but Clarke knew that they were close, albeit out of earshot to any conversation she and Lexa might choose to have. Her stomach fluttered with excitement as she took in the romantic neon glow of the woods, wondering whether Lexa would finally give in and allow them to be together.

“Kostia loved it here…” Lexa murmured, basking in the colourful luminescence around them.

Clarke bit back the aggrieved cry at the suckerpunch to her stomach, having to turn away to hide the anguished expression on her face. She worked hard to school her features before she could look at Lexa again, who was of course curiously staring at her peculiar behaviour.

“It’s beautiful here.” Clarke managed to say in a steady voice, even while her chest continued to painfully ache. “I can see why she would.”

Lexa absently nodded, sage eyes intently searching Clarke’s face for what she wasn’t saying.

“Did you visit here often? You and Kostia I mean.” Clarke nervously mumbled. “Considering that your mother was from here…” She trailed off, praying Lexa would start talking soon, because Clarke was close to just running back to her tent to either scream or cry into her pillow. She wasn’t sure which yet, so would probably do both. Because Costia was on Lexa’s Tree, and Costia was here in this entire forest… And when Lexa couldn’t remember, she remembered that she’d loved Costia.

Lexa had of course never purposely made Clarke feel as though Costia was between them. Clarke knew it was her own insecurities, but all Clarke could think of was that Lexa had yet to kiss her with her memories back and it really f*cking hurt.

“Not with Kostia no, but when I was younger. Onya often brought me to visit…” Lexa replied. “Bekka had said that the forest wasn’t safe. That the glow is caused by high amounts of radiation.”

Clarke frowned, grateful for the disturbing information to make this place less romantic. She distractedly scratched at her arm, feeling a non-existent rash starting up and her need to flee came back tenfold.

Lexa chuckled softly. “That’s why the villages are situated further away. Bekka said that visiting would be fine, though. Our people know this.”

Clarke nodded, only slightly relieved.

“That’s why trade to the Trishana is so important.” Clarke suddenly realised. She’d wondered about it before, because according to Lexa’s maps, the Glowing Forest was one of the larger territories and yet had the smallest population, save for Arkadia. “They can’t grow crops here.”

Lexa hummed and started walking back to their horses.

“Arable land is rare, yes.” Lexa confirmed. “And though they craft earthenware to use as trade throughout the clans, the Trishana mainly supply weapons to the Trikru that their blacksmiths forge. That’s why Solas made sure to cut off their food supply lines first to try and lessen the number of weapons at our disposal.”

Clarke swallowed and decided to ask her next question, hoping Lexa was ready to talk to her about it.

“Did you learn anything useful about Solas from Senna?”

Lexa shook her head.

“Solas’s advisors had come to us as we had stayed in Sangeda territory for the duration of my convalescence.”

At least Clarke knew Senna wasn’t lying about that part.

“She told me from the start that her mother was Ice Nation and that she planned to say that she was Trikru like her father,” Clarke hid her surprise that Senna was really Titus’s daughter, she’d forgotten that the letter he had written Lexa was technically confirmation of that, “because of the Fleimkepa’s hatred of Azgeda.”

Clarke snorted and Lexa smiled sadly.

“She had told me about the Fleimkepa we would see. But not that you were Skaikru or that we,” Lexa paused, “that we had known each other…”

They shared a smile at both of their inability to name what they’d been.

“When I had confronted her, she said that she hadn’t known.” Lexa’s jaw clenched and she looked to be recalling her time with Senna. “She’d been honest about her dislike of Skaikru and upfront about her intentions for Azgeda to be more present in Polis. She hadn’t lied to me; that I know of…” Lexa sighed. “She’d made me feel that I had made mistakes that almost cost me my life and that she wanted to help me lead our people again, with allies I could trust…”

“Azgeda allies.” Clarke supplied and Lexa nodded.

“She had been good to me.” Lexa sadly admitted, before mounting her horse, their guards appearing out of nowhere to escort them back. “Even though she’d purposely directed me toward a cause she knew I wouldn’t otherwise have considered with my memories.”

Clarke wanted to ask whether Senna had been more than a friend and caretaker to Lexa, but she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to know that. Or more specifically, whether she could handle knowing that given the current state of her and Lexa’s relationship.

Clarke had already figured that Lexa must’ve really cared for Senna, given that Senna was still alive.

Arkadia was number seven on their list and Clarke purposely rode her horse beside Lexa into the gated community, their entire little army following in after them. It must’ve been a threatening sight, judging by the expressions of the Skaikru gaping at them and tensions were high all around.

Kane met them outside with a small delegation of guards and a few citizens mulling about. When Lexa smoothly dismounted, he instantly bowed down along with every person in eyesight and Clarke had to fight back a pleased smile at the show of respect.

No one would ever replace Jake in her heart, but Clarke had made some room for Marcus Kane too.

Kane and Lexa exchanged pleasantries, the two of them always having had an easy rapport. Together they settled Lexa’s delegation in a space to set up camp. It was a tight squeeze with vegetable patches taking up most of the free land in Arkadia and Clarke wondered why they were camping inside of the walls when they would’ve been more comfortable – physically and mentally - on the outside.

Clarke didn’t question Lexa though; deciding that the Commander would have her reasons.

They walked with Kane through the deserted metallic corridors of the Ark and toward the room the Council used for meetings. Only Octavia, Ryder and Riley shadowed them. Abby was waiting there with Bellamy, who was predictably cold and distant. But when Abby met Lexa’s gaze - much to Clarke’s surprise - the Heda bowed at the waist, head ducked down in respect and Abby smiled widely as though it was Christmas morning, before she cautiously stepped forward and hugged Lexa instead of returning the gesture.

Clarke wasn’t sure what she enjoyed more: Lexa with children or Lexa with her mother, but she was feeling all kinds of wonderful at being blessed to have witnessed both. She suspected that she might not have enough space in her heart left for the love she felt for Lexa and her mother in that particular moment, because both of them were doing this for Clarke, weren’t they?

The tips of Lexa’s ears were red when Abby finally released her and she purposely ignored Clarke as she held out her hand toward Ryder who gave her a sheathed long sword she presented to a grinning Kane. That was how it had been going in every clan, Lexa would get a million gifts, but made sure to present the leader of each clan with something herself. Clarke had made sure to write out clear instructions for Kane with the messenger sent ahead to announce their arrival. Kane in turn, gave Lexa a pair of binoculars, Clarke thought she would have to explain what they were, but Lexa’s eyes instantly lit up.

“Indra told me that the lens on yours had cracked.” Kane explained.

“Mochof, Chancellor.” Lexa sincerely thanked him, seating herself in the Chancellor’s chair he was holding out for her.

Kane pulled Abby’s chair next and Bellamy did the same for Clarke. Lexa’s reaction was fleeting and imperceptible had Clarke’s eyes not instantly flown to her at the gesture. It said a lot about the Heda’s recovery that she could hide her feelings better now, compared to the incident with poor Mikah.

Octavia remained standing with Ryder and Riley and shook her head at her brother, who had sat down next to Clarke.

The discussion focused primarily on Arkadia; how they were faring and what they still needed. Kane praised Indra, because without the support of the Trikru they would’ve probably starved behind their walls already. He even acknowledged Clarke’s efforts in Polis and she blushed when Abby beamed her pride.

Lexa was in Heda mode though, keeping the tone strict and formal, offering solutions and suggestions to better the way of life for Skaikru, like she’d been doing with all the other clans too: reassuring them that with her back in power and their sworn allegiance, that things would be better and how she intended on making them better. Clarke now knew what Lexa had been busy doing those times she’d spent locked up alone in her room or her tent, instead of with Clarke. It was comforting that Clarke hadn’t been purposely avoided. The Heda had just been compiling a plan of action for each individual clan.

She was shaken from her musings on how incredible Lexa was, when the Commander proclaimed that she would only re-establish the Skaikru’s position in her Coalition, if they gave up their guns.

Predictably, Lexa was met with stunned silence, and then:

“You can’t be serious.” Bellamy intensified the glare he’d had on Lexa the entire time. “We can’t do that. We won’t.”

Lexa didn’t so much as glance in his direction, instead settling a stoic stare on Kane.

“Does he speak for Skaikru, Chancellor?” She impassively queried.

Kane’s jaw clenched.

“No, Commander.” He answered. “Bellamy, please leave the room.”

Clarke suspected that Bellamy had been instructed to be quiet if he wanted to attend the meeting. And when he opened his mouth to presumably object to the dismissal, Kane gave him a glare that immediately shut him up. With his fists clenched, Bellamy rose from his seat and stomped out of the room.

Clarke was surprised that it had been that easy. She wasn’t sure that Skaikru should give up their weapons. She herself in that moment had her gun hidden in her robes. Not for her own safety, but Clarke was sure as hell going to use it to protect Lexa even knowing the Grounders’ fear and hatred of guns. It was a last resort, though, because Clarke wasn’t a ninja-monk like Titus had been. Now that Lexa was back, Clarke’s hatred of the man had somewhat lessened. She could admit that he would’ve protected Lexa by any means necessary. As Titus had proven with Clarke and with Semet.

After Bellamy’s exit, the meeting progressed smoothly, with Lexa explaining her reasoning behind the ultimatum, answering Abby and Kane’s concerns with well thought out answers. Lexa made an example of the relationship the Trishana and Trikru had. That they sent those who wanted to become warriors to train in the Trikru army in the event of war, but mainly they were blacksmiths and craftsmen.

With a surreptitious glance at Abby, before looking back to Kane, Lexa asked them to consider becoming a place of learning for their people. She wanted her healers to exchange information with Abby and later use their combined knowledge to train apprentices. Clarke was almost jealous at the proud look Abby sent Lexa, who tried to ignore her mother.

Titus had taught Lexa to read, and she would teach Milah and any other Natblidas, but Lexa suggested that perhaps Arkadia could serve such a function to those who wanted to learn and in return, the Trikru would protect them. None of the Skaikru who didn’t wish to become warriors needed to fight in any wars, as long as they served as a school for a few who could then go back home and teach their clans. And also as a hospital for really bad injuries and illnesses, as well as sending their healers to aid the Coalition’s warriors, wherever battles were taking place.

Needless to say, by the end of the meeting, they were all feeling a lot more confident about the future of Arkadia within the Coalition.

Clarke hadn’t ever taken anyone home to meet her parents, and despite the formal atmosphere, Clarke sort of felt like that was exactly what was happening in that moment, and she was proud – no matter how up in the air their relationship status currently was – that Leksa kom Trikru was the person she was presenting as her partner.

Clarke and Lexa were heading back to their tents before supper with Abby and Kane, when they noticed Bellamy training his guards directly opposite the Grounders’ campsite. He was obviously attempting to blow off some steam. Clarke had learned from Kane that he’d been teaching Bellamy to release his frustrations in a productive way when she’d once queried the wellbeing of her friends while Kane had been secretly visiting her in Polis.

The Grounder warriors were all watching the hand to hand combat, flinching when every few seconds a shot or two rang out from where some Arkadian guards were busy with target practice. Clarke frowned, wondering if that part was a deliberate defiance of Lexa’s terms and she watched the way the Heda took in the situation and came to a halt amongst her people. Clarke had stopped a few yards away, intending on getting Kane, but also not wanting to leave in case there was an altercation. So she glanced back to the Ark and hoped that Kane would miraculously know to come out and wasn’t off making out with her mother or something, and too distracted to hear the gunshots.

Bellamy took off his shirt, causing an immediate murmur amongst the Grounders and some loud snickering.

“What?!” Bellamy shouted his frustration at the amused group of warriors. Mostly at the tiny Heda at the centre of them whose lips had tilted into a dangerous smirk.

Clarke had been about to instruct someone to fetch Kane, but when Bellamy turned his anger toward Lexa, Clarke started toward them, stopping only at Octavia’s hand gripping her elbow.

“Don’t interfere.” Octavia wisely warned.

Clarke nodded her gratitude, remembering the last time she’d placed herself in between Lexa and her people. All through the past few days, in all the other allied clans, there’d been tense moments with some people aggressively voicing their fears and doubts. Clarke hadn’t opposed the Heda in public then; trusting in her to handle the situation. Which Lexa had easily done.

Clarke also didn’t speak for her people anymore. She wasn’t the leader of the Skaikru, or Ambassador of the Thirteenth Clan. Clarke was Fleimkepa. Her duty was to The Flame.

“Do you think there will be time to undress during battle?” Lexa called back, gaze fiery in challenge.

It was a side of her Clarke hadn’t seen in a while: that confident warrior neatly wrapped in the skin of a clever politician.

“We aren’t in battle now.” Bellamy gritted out, barely hiding his irritation.

Lexa stoically stared at him until Bellamy became awkward and looked toward his guards who had all halted their sparring and shooting to watch the interaction.

“You are training, correct?” Lexa politely queried.

Bellamy’s brows knitted at the tone, before he scowled.

“Yes. So can we please continue? I know you haven’t been around much, but in case you haven’t noticed, your people are fighting out there, putting mine in danger here.”

He made it sound as though Lexa had chosen to go on holiday while the world went to sh*t and hadn’t just been in a meeting to discuss the state of the world, little over an hour ago.

Lexa took a step forward, setting herself apart from her large warriors.

“How do you intend to prepare for the battleground when none of your training resembles an actual battle?”

“What’s the point of hurting each other?” Bellamy countered.

“You have your women sparring only with each other as though their enemies would pair up like that during battle. You shoot bullets at unmoving targets, with machine guns a child could kill with.”

Clarke breathed out a sigh of relief when she noticed Kane hurrying toward them and hoped that he would stop the altercation from getting any worse.

“So what? You want us to just shoot each other?” Bellamy bitterly laughed, shaking his head, probably thinking ‘savages’.

“Skaikru will no longer be carrying any guns so there will be no shooting of anyone.” Kane sternly announced and Clarke cringed at the worst timing ever to share that news with the Arkadians. “We will be joining the Commander’s Coalition and as a show of good faith, we will be giving up our weapons.”

“What about our safety!?”

“We’ll be sitting ducks!”

Clarke watched as the Skaikru started to predictably panic. She didn’t blame them.

“Silence!” Lexa’s authoritative voice rose above the din and miraculously the Arkadians quieted.

She took a step closer to Bellamy. “Put on some clothes and arm yourself with your weapon of choice.”

“I don’t take orders from you.” Bellamy sneered.

Lexa looked to Kane.

“Do as the Commander says.” Kane’s jaw clenched, looking to Bellamy like a strict father would his ten-year-old boy for not doing as he was told.

And Clarke was only slightly relieved that this was happening in a somewhat controlled environment and not when it mattered out there in the real world. Because Lexa wouldn’t do anything to mess up the alliance, right? She wouldn’t… Then again, Skaikru needed Lexa a lot more than she needed them; whether they realised it or not. All of them were still standing there because Lexa had stopped her armies from annihilating the Skaikru. Clarke had told them as much when she’d bothered to visit in the beginning.

“This needs to happen. That’s why she’s doing it.” Octavia whispered next to her. Just as tensely watching the interaction and seeing it for what it was.

Bellamy was general of the Arkadian ‘army’, most likely to be the one to serve as representative in Polis when Kane or Abby couldn’t attend a Coalition meeting. He also had a lot of people supporting him and might become Chancellor in future, aided by the fact that Kane was his mentor. He was also still a loose cannon, known to lead with his heart and not his head. Lexa was vetting him as she’d done the leadership of all the other clans during their trip so far. Though the other leaders and advisors had been nothing but accommodating and filled with hope and veneration.

When Bellamy insolently slung his assault rifle over his shoulder after putting his shirt back on, Clarke’s hand shot down into her robes to feel for her gun when a flash of that old – personal- resentment was directed at Lexa. The Heda was casually disarming, handing over her weapons to her warriors who were smirking to themselves in anticipation.

Lexa was dressed like she usually did in Polis: no armour, no visible weapons and Clarke scowled in confusion, not sure what was happening anymore. Weren’t they going to fight? Lexa then took a step closer to Bellamy and his grip on the rifle tightened along with Clarke’s stomach and heart.

Lexa needed to stay as far away from guns as possible. Clarke ignored the irony that she herself was the one with a gun in that moment.

“We are on the battlefield!” Lexa shouted so everyone gathered could hear the scenario. “You have taken down many of my warriors as we ran at you from a distance.” Lexa started circling him and Bellamy lifted his gun, making sure to keep his front to Lexa at all times.

“Don’t distract them.” Octavia murmured and Clarke only realised then that she’d drawn her own gun and had been moving forward.

It was so quiet in Arkadia; every eye in camp watching and no one moving.

“Just a moment ago you killed three, with just a few cowardly squeezes of your finger.” Lexa sneered and Clarke gulped down her anxiety because yes, this was apparently personal. “It’s only me and you and I’m too close!” She lunged forward, and Clarke screamed, but Lexa quickly disarmed Bellamy - as she’d done Roan - who blinked as suddenly he was staring down the barrel of his own gun.

Lexa’s jaw was tightly clenched, along with her grip on the gun that she was holding by the handle as though it were a sword, most likely on purpose. It would’ve been funny, but it really wasn’t. Clarke just needed this to end.

“It’s just you and I, Belomi. The rest of your people are too busy shooting down mine. They can’t help you, because we aren’t sleeping and we number thousands.” Lexa sneered. “There aren’t enough of you to stop us and once we are upon you, you all fall despite your bullets!”

The swing came out of nowhere, so fast there was no way Bellamy could’ve stopped it as the barrel of his gun hit him across the jaw and sent him spiralling to the ground. Clarke was mildly impressed when he groaned, indicating that he was still conscious and slowly rose to his feet again, a bruising cut along his jaw. Lexa must’ve not hit him that hard and that gave Clarke hope that this was one of Lexa’s lessons, instead of payback for the Peacekeepers who had been massacred.

“Stay down, Dumbass.” Octavia muttered and Clarke could see the worry edged in her features.

Lexa’s smirk was predatory as she threw the gun to the side and circled Bellamy again.

“Now you are on the battlefield with no gun, facing a woman who you had not practiced to fight. What will you do now, Belomi kom Skaikru?” Lexa asked. “How will you know to approach my feminine body and defeat it?”

Apparently strong minds could still produce mockery.

The warriors and a few Arkadians laughed and Lexa’s smirk grew even as she ducked the fist wildly heading toward her face; swiftly and smoothly, as though she and Bellamy had choreographed the movement.

“Perhaps you should take your shirt off!” One of Lexa’s warriors shouted and the others jeered and mocked him further.

Bellamy cried out his frustration and attacked Lexa again.

Kane just hung his head and shook it. Clarke relaxed now that Bellamy was unarmed and because Lexa was using Bellamy’s anger as a weapon against him. With every erratic swing she expertly ducked beneath, countering it with a vicious punch to his face, Bellamy seemed to grow even more enraged.

“We are Trikru!” Lexa shouted, swiftly punching him in the gut. “Bullets will not stop us!” She finished with an uppercut beneath his chin that sent him reeling back and crashing to the ground.

Lexa’s warriors were hitting their weapons against their armour and stomping their feet; a deep roar of support as Lexa placed her boot on Bellamy’s neck. Clarke thought that Lexa was doing this as much for the Grounders, as to teach the Skaikru how useless their weapons really were in the greater scheme of things.

“Oh god.” Octavia murmured like she was in pain and Clarke found that she was holding onto her friend this time around, to stop Octavia from going forward to save her brother.

Clarke didn’t know if Lexa would kill Bellamy, but she knew that she couldn’t interfere now, even when Bellamy’s profusely bleeding face was already turning purple. It would destroy all of that tentative trust they’d been building since Lexa’s return. All of that unspoken reassurance that Clarke and Lexa shared the same people now. That they were on the same team. That Clarke deferred to Lexa as leader. Clarke was conflicted, everything in her nature was screaming at her to stop Lexa. But she knew that the moment she did, that Lexa wouldn’t ever trust her again. That Lexa would leave her in Arkadia and return to Polis without her.

Lexa raised her hand and her warriors fell silent. She removed her boot from Bellamy’s throat and the Arkadians all released a collective breath of relief. But they remained stationary, watching the Heda who was now stoically staring out over them.

“Guns will not protect you against my army!” Lexa shouted and Clarke cringed, because Lexa really wasn’t making any friends. “Our warriors are brave and strong and our archers more skilled and precise than all of your gunmen! We do not fear death, and will continue to attack until you’ve been disarmed or have run out of bullets, and we’ve killed each and every one of you!”

The warriors behind Lexa stood taller with pride and Clarke wondered whether this was the reason they’d entered and camped within the walls of Arkadia, instead of outside like they’d done with the other villages: so that Lexa could assuage their fear at the Skaikru weapons that so effortlessly killed them. They would surely go home and spread word at how easily their Heda had defeated the branwoda and his gun.

“We train our men and women on their individual strengths. Not all are as strong. Not all are fast. Not all can handle a sword, but may excel at a bow.” Lexa slowly walked into the open space where everyone could see her: how small and unarmed she was. And how she’d taken Bellamy down with no weapons whatsoever.

“I understand why you don’t trust me.” Lexa unexpectedly declared. “During the battle of Mount Weather I betrayed you to save my people.” A soft murmur and a few scowls accompanied the statement; no one had forgotten that. “I’m not here to apologise. My duty is and will always be, to my people. At that time, Skaikru had not been a part of my Coalition. You had not been my responsibility.”

Lexa nodded to Ryder, motioning toward their tents and he and Riley quickly hurried off.

“Your leader has sworn fealty to me. And with that, Skaikru has become my people. I will protect you as I do all others in my Coalition. As I had done when I sent Peacekeepers to protect you from Azgeda after Mount Weather had been destroyed even when you had inhabited it against my strict instruction, because Chancellor Kane had taken my brand. I have sworn my oath again to Skaikru. I have sworn to protect you as my people, but it won’t be easy if you set yourselves apart by holding on to your guns. Not with the history that taints our past.”

Another murmur in understanding, but also fear. Because if they didn’t have their guns, they wouldn’t survive very long.

“I understand that these guns are what has kept you alive thus far. At first to defend yourself and more recently to hunt in the forest gifted to you by the Trikru. But I assure you that I will not leave you unprotected.” Lexa motioned Riley and Ryder forward when they returned with the wagon they’d been carting since Polis. “My warriors will train you to defend yourselves. We will identify your strengths and your weaknesses for hunting and battle.” After a nod from Lexa, they opened the cart and an entire armoury of swords, shields and spears fell out of it. “We will teach you how to survive on the Ground, the Trikru way!” Lexa shouted, and then smiled: open and charming.

“Can’t believe she was busy campaigning all this time.” Octavia shook her head, but her relief was palpable.

Lexa had made her point by taking out one of Arkadia’s strongest guards and showed that their guns wouldn’t protect them. That the Coalition would protect them. That the Heda would protect them.

Harper and Miller were the first to move forward and Clarke wanted to just hug them. Because soon most of the Arkadian guards were gathered around the cart, warily – and curiously - examining the weapons. They didn’t notice Lexa approaching Bellamy again who had sat up and was allowing his nose to bleed onto the ground.

Abby - whose presence Clarke only noticed then -, Kane, Clarke and Octavia, all hurried forward, flinching when Lexa stuck out a hand. Bellamy stared up at Lexa’s stoic face for a long intense moment and then grabbed onto her forearm. Lexa pulled him up and then brutally clapped him on the shoulder, causing him to cringe in pain.

Bellamy scowled at her with a grotesquely bloodied face and the Heda flashed him a saccharine smile, before nodding to Abby who instantly guided him off to the sickbay.

Clarke met Lexa’s gaze and lifted a brow.

“I think Belomi and I have reached an understanding, don’t you?” Lexa tilted her head with a smug smirk, before she turned toward their people, Clarke hurrying after her to make sure that the Grounders and Skaikru didn’t kill each other.

Chapter 10

Chapter Text

“Raven thinks we’ve been enabling each other in Polis.” Octavia murmured, her eyes glued to the metal memorial Raven had erected over the ashes of the funeral pyre they’d built to lay Lincoln and Sinclair to rest.

Clarke stood at her side, giving her friend a moment before they were due to leave Arkadia. The last time they’d been there, they’d only spent a few hours in a cornered of section of the Ark, so it was the first time Octavia had been in Arkadia long enough to see what Raven had done.

“What did she mean by that?” Clarke asked, distracted by her own memories. The area was empty, their warriors already waiting outside the gates. Only Kane, Lexa and Abby stood a few yards away, waiting for them.

Lexa had taken the time to give Abby some medicinal herbs and a few beautifully crafted candles. Clarke had left them chatting about the ‘Healer Program’, as Abby had started referring to it, in order to make sure that Octavia was okay.

“You know what she meant, Clarke. It had been a year and neither of us had even attempted to move on…”

“We were busy…” Clarke half-heartedly argued. Yes, she’d been running Polis and trying to get various clan leaders to join their alliance and stay in their alliance, and Octavia had been training with Indra who was nothing if not demanding of her Seconds…

Octavia snorted.

They’d had time; they had just chosen to use whatever time they had, to speak about and mourn the lovers they’d lost.

“And now Leksa’s back.” Octavia said it like it was just a statement of fact, but Clarke felt guilt needling in the pit of her stomach.

What could she say? Sorry that Lincoln isn’t? She knew Octavia well enough to know that she wasn’t trying to make Clarke feel guilty.

“Well, it’s not like Leksa and I are suddenly happy together…” Clarke dejectedly murmured. “She’s still keeping me at arm’s length, thinking that she needs to give her all to our people.”

They glanced toward where Lexa stood, catching the Heda already staring at Clarke with a blatant look of longing, before the Commander hurriedly looked away upon being noticed.

“Yeah, I give that a day.” Octavia chuckled. “Everyone can see how much that woman loves you.”

Clarke had loved Lexa too and had still managed to push her away back then, so she wasn’t feeling as confident as everyone else was. Could they do both? Could they be together and still do what was best for their people? Clarke had reached a point where she thought it was entirely possible. Lexa though… Lexa felt that the Commander couldn’t have it all. History had taught Lexa that much by taking away almost everyone she’d ever loved and cared about. History had sent a stray bullet straight into Lexa’s stomach mere moments after she and Clarke had consummated their love. Lexa was passionate enough about her duty that she would sacrifice her own happiness if it meant keeping her people safe.

Clarke had come to learn that simply loving someone with your entire heart, sometimes just wasn’t enough…

Octavia mistook her silent pondering for Clarke being upset at her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound as though I’m not happy for you.” Her friend clarified. “But you have her back and now what do I do? Get drunk and cry myself to sleep, all alone?” She wryly chuckled.

Clarke let out a sad laugh too. They’d done that a lot. Maybe Raven wasn’t too far off in her assessment.

“I’ll still get drunk with you.” Clarke tried to joke, even when it seemed so wrong in the moment. “And I’ll be there if you feel the need to cry yourself to sleep.” She added more earnestly.

Octavia smiled, knowing that it was true.

“And I could be your wingman too, if that’s what you need me to be…” Clarke tentatively offered, watching Octavia stiffen.

“I…” She trailed off, her eyes settling on Lincoln’s name neatly engraved in the metal. “How do I… I’ve tried…” Octavia finally managed to confess with a pained expression. “But it still feels like a betrayal to him. He-he’s gone, but I still love him so much, Clarke.” Her eyes were pleading and filled with tears when they helplessly looked to Clarke again.

Clarke knew of course, how much Octavia loved Lincoln, what she hadn’t known, was that Octavia had tried to be with someone. Clarke briefly wondered who it could be. Perhaps Mikah? He was the only one besides Clarke that Octavia spent much time with, but Clarke thought it was mainly to play with Milah… Whoever it was, at least Octavia was interested enough to feel conflicted about it. Which was a good sign, right?

Clarke cleared her throat, feeling that she was so the wrong person to ask for advice, but Octavia was still staring at her for answers she didn’t have.

“I didn’t know Linkon very well.” Clarke carefully started. “And I don’t think anyone should tell you how much time to take to grieve… I guess all you can do is remember him; picture him standing in front of you. Tell him what you’re worried about; that you like someone and don’t know what to do about it. And then you imagine what Linkon would tell you to do…”

Clarke gave Octavia a warm hug and told her to take her time, before she walked off to say goodbye to her mom.

Yes, Clarke hadn’t known Lincoln well, but she knew enough to know exactly what he would say to Octavia.

Lexa was unable to hide the happy excitement over her new binoculars, so Clarke decided not to tell her that they’d been salvaged from Mount Weather the night Clarke had destroyed it, to help navigate the Skaikru through the night and back to Arkadia.

‘They get their energy from the sun, Klark! I can use them at night! If I were to stand on the balcony of the Throne Room, I could probably see all the way into Indra’s house!’

Clarke was distracted enough by Lexa’s joyful countenance and pretty smile, that she didn’t immediately realise that they weren’t heading for Ton DC as Clarke had expected they would. After checking with Lexa, the Commander informed Clarke that they would be calling on the rest of the clans, the Lake People being first on that dangerous list.

“If I don’t visit them, they will think I fear them and Solas will use that perception against me to rally his people.” Was all Lexa offered at Clarke’s worried face.

Clarke wished they were back in Arkadia again. The Skaikru were renewed with hope and excitement, almost like they’d been the first time they’d crashed on the Ground. All the possibilities of learning to survive was back in full force now that they were considered part of the Heda’s Coalition and outsiders - enemies - no longer.

But their delegation marched onward and by some unspoken agreement, Clarke fell back with her horse and rode behind the Commander and her personal guard, instead of at Lexa’s side.

It was of some comfort that the villagers were still in awe, much like the rest had been. But Lexa’s people hadn’t really been the problem, it had been the clan leadership who started wars their people were forced to fight in and suffer through.

As was the Grounder way, Lexa still received respect, even from those leaders who had aligned themselves with Solas and his cause.. Lexa also reminded Clarke that they hadn’t really betrayed her personally, had they? She’d been presumed dead and they’d made their allies and choices against a Coalition that technically hadn’t existed any longer. So the Commander wouldn’t call them out on it.

All Lexa could do was sit down with them the same way she had with their allies and discuss what could be done for their clans and remind them that they would be asked to swear allegiance at the upcoming Summit, or be considered enemies of the Coalition.

Their trip through the clans now held a more prominent air of intimidation. It was all about powerplays and who had the biggest army behind them. Lexa’s eyes were cold and she radiated her authority in almost tangible waves; almost daring them all not to bow down before her.

Clarke was still invited by Lexa to sit at the Commander’s right though, when they met with the Podakru. And their leader welcomed the Heda with the same hospitality as their allies had, albeit strained with tension; offering gifts and a feast and her throne for Lexa to sit on, while the people paid deference to the Commander of the Blood.

And when they left, Clarke could see that Lexa had gained another ally without even having had to threaten anyone.

They camped about five miles from the Delphi Clan leader’s village, where close to a hundred more Trikru warriors joined them - a veritable army - and Clarke was pleased that Lexa was being more careful as they travelled deeper into enemy territory.

The morning of the day they were to meet with the Delphi, Clarke woke with a start, unable to remember her nightmare, but feeling that same dread she’d woken with almost every time since Lexa’s return. The feeling would knot and fester in her stomach until Clarke finally saw Lexa with her own eyes again and re-established that Lexa was still there. Still alive.

It didn’t help that when she queried Lexa’s whereabouts, the first two people she asked didn’t know, but thankfully the third had pointed her toward the top of a flower-covered hill, where Lexa sat seemingly all alone. Clarke instructed her own guard to stay where he was and made her way up the grassy slope.

It was a strange sight to discover: Lexa devoid of armour, surrounded by a plethora of colourful flowers. Her sword lay within reach though and Clarke was aware of the daggers hidden on her person in addition to the Heda’s knife, perpetually holstered to Lexa’s thigh. She had presumably used said knife to pick the heap of flowers laid at her side.

Without a word, Clarke sat down a few feet away and drew out the Journal of the First Commander from the slingbag she carried around that also contained the surgical set Clarke highly doubted she’d be able to use were anything to happen to Lexa again.

She’d read in the journal of the various Commanders before Lexa. How long they had lived, how many battles they had won, how many people they had killed, how many clans they had conquered… Whether Titus had realised that those particular accolades wouldn’t be Lexa’s legacy, or whether Lexa herself had requested her victories not be mentioned, or whether he just hadn’t gotten around to it, Clarke didn’t know, but when she’d received the journal, there had been no record of Leksa kom Trikru in it.

A few months after becoming Fleimkepa, it was Clarke who had written down Lexa’s name, her parents’, her mentors’ – Anya, Gustus, Indra, and begrudgingly, Titus too - and her date of birth. She’d documented the date Lexa had Ascended, her relationship with Costia and when she’d brought peace to the clans, as well as the day that she’d ‘died’. Upon finding Lexa again, Clarke had scratched that out though and wrote down the date Lexa had returned to Polis as well as a summary of the state of the world in her absence.

After taking out her coal set and swiftly sharpening a tip, Clarke looked up into the eyes predictably studying her.

“You wish to draw me?” Lexa assessed the situation for what it was.

Clarke wanted to paint her actually. The pinks and oranges of the sky, the pastels of the dainty flower petals, the rich chestnut of Lexa’s long, wavy, hair, the gold of her skin and the intense forest green of her eyes…

Clarke was mesmerized, but she didn’t have any paints, so she would settle for a greyscale sketch. She hadn’t been able to complete a drawing since the last time Lexa had been her muse. This time around though, Clarke knew that nothing would stop her from capturing the moment.

“Please.” Clarke husked in answer, mindlessly memorizing every detail of the scene in front of her.

Armour-less, warpaint-less, braid-less, Lexa, seated in a field of wild flowers; hair lightly blowing away from her face in the slight breeze, was a stunning aesthetic.

“Do I need to remain still?” Lexa seemed to ponder, glancing at the flowers in her hands she’d been weaving up until Clarke’s arrival.

“No, just continue what you’re doing.” Clarke absently instructed, her pencil already gliding over the page next to Lexa’s biography; the Commander forgotten, even when she’d become the centre of Clarke’s world.

Lexa didn’t ask any more questions and Clarke had better things to do than talking. So they spent the next hour or so, busying themselves with their respective tasks. Lexa had close to a dozen flower wreaths next to her, and Clarke had somehow managed to capture a side of the Heda that was as rare as it was beautiful: Lexa at peace.

Finally noticing that Lexa was finished with her wreathing and was just staring back at Clarke, the blonde wondered whether maybe she was the cause of that look of contentment on Lexa’s face and her stomach gave an excited flip, her sketch instantly forgotten. She would work on it some more later, given that the image had been permanently burnt into Clarke’s brain.

Slowly, as though she was careful not to frighten Lexa off, Clarke placed the journal aside and crawled over to where Lexa sat. The Heda looked surprised and confused when Clarke didn’t stop her steady advance, shifting back on her arms to accommodate Clarke closing in on her lap.

Clarke continued until she was stretched out in the field and her head rested on Lexa’s thigh, who stared down at Clarke with slightly parted lips and wide-eyed wonder.

Lexa made no move to remove Clarke from her position, so she remained there, just dreamily gazing up into Lexa’s face.

Clarke might not know everything about Lexa, but she did know Lexa. Lexa loved with all of her heart. Lexa knew it about herself and she knew that it made her vulnerable. So she had built up her walls and though they were thick and high, they weren’t impenetrable.

Clarke had no intention of bulldozing her way through them, though. Not because it wasn’t her personality – because it so was - but because if done at the wrong moment, with too much force, Lexa might actually rebuild a structure she didn’t want to ever come down again. The Heda was stubborn enough to get that right. Lexa’s resolve had lasted this long, even whilst longingly staring at Clarke whenever she thought the blonde wasn’t looking.

No, Clarke was just going to slide her fingers along Lexa’s boundaries, a light caress begging for entry, and wait for a door to appear to let her back in where she belonged.

Confidently, Clarke shifted onto her side and pressed the tip of her nose to Lexa’s stomach. The scent was soothing and familiar, prompting Clarke’s hand to gently slide around Lexa’s back and smoothly under her shirt.

Lexa froze – so did Clarke – and then instantly relaxed again.

Clarke glanced up into stormy eyes, intently staring back at her, a hint of surprised confusion and so many other things that told Clarke that this was her best idea ever, even though she hadn’t really thought it through that much.

“Is this okay?” Clarke softly rasped, not wanting to break the moment, but needing to check.

Her thumb caressed over Lexa’s spine of its own volition and Lexa released a soft breath through parted lips.

“Yes.” She whispered, her own hand moving up and her fingers carefully threaded into Clarke’s hair.

Clarke’s eyes instantly fluttered closed, while her heart seemed readying to burst with emotion. She continued to caress her fingers over Lexa’s lower back, while Lexa did the most wonderful things to her scalp.

“I heard that you had been bald.” Lexa softly spoke, the smile in her voice evident.

Clarke hummed in confirmation, wondering whether Heaven felt anywhere close to what she was feeling.

“And you had received the tattoos of the Circle of the Flame…”

“Yes.” Clarke mumbled back, as Lexa’s fingers seemed to find the places where the tattoos were located.

“Had they told you what they mean?” Lexa murmured, seemingly as reluctant as Clarke to break the moment between them, but her curiosity won out.

“They’re an unbreakable oath.” Clarke answered, her eyes still closed and then smirked. “A pledge to protect The Flame and serve my Commander above all others.”

Lexa hummed, whether in acknowledgement of Clarke’s answer, or the fingers that were stroking her back, Clarke didn’t know. She just nuzzled her face further into Lexa’s stomach, and curled an arm around her waist, hugging Lexa close.

Clarke couldn’t remember when last she’d felt that level of contentment. No, that was a lie. Clarke remembered laying in a bed of furs with Lexa in her arms, just holding each other; both of them ignoring the fact that Clarke needed to leave soon.

Just like back then, the world and its demands ceased to exist. And this was what Clarke had promised Lexa that day in the Throne Room, wasn’t it? That they could have these moments of peace within a war. That they could provide each other with comfort while they fought for their people. That if they just allowed it, Clarke and Lexa could find strength in one another, instead of the heartache and doubt they’d subjected each other to in the past.

Lexa didn’t say anything else, just continued to tenderly stroke Clarke’s hair until she drifted off into a deep sleep.

She was woken by a gentle touch to her cheek, Lexa’s fingers tentative yet worshipping, all at once. Clarke felt like just pretending it wasn’t time to get back to the real world yet. But she could feel the warmth of the sun on her body, already high in the sky. It would’ve woken her sooner, had Lexa not somehow managed to stealthily move them with the trajectory of the sun in order to shadow Clarke’s face.

“Klark.”

Clarke bit back a satisfied moan as she moved onto her back and stretched in Lexa’s lap, finally – reluctantly – fluttering her eyes open. Her breath caught in her throat when she was met with Lexa’s gaze: pupils blown wide inside of sparkling green, staring down at Clarke in that Lexa way she had…

“We need to get ready to meet with the Delphi Clan.”

Clarke groaned when Lexa finally burst her bubble of denial, but stopped from defiantly pressing her face back into the safety of Lexa’s stomach when the Heda fondly smiled at her. Open and beautiful, and filled with enough adoration for Clarke’s heart and stomach to flutter excitedly.

The birds in her belly were going crazy.

Lexa’s hand was still gently cupping Clarke’s cheek and she seemed unaware of the way her thumb was caressing just below Clarke’s bottom lip, lightly playing with Clarke’s chin. Clarke slowly rose up as though stuck in a trance, Lexa’s hand following without breaking the tender contact. Hesitantly moving their faces closer, Clarke’s chest clenched painfully when Lexa slightly turned her face away, breaking the spell and Clarke’s frantically beating heart.

The Heda cleared her throat and indicated with her head for Clarke to look around them.

Clarke had forgotten that there was a world beyond their little patch of flower heaven and blushed brightly when she noticed both her and Lexa’s guards surrounding them - along with a few other warriors who had presumably been hidden around the perimeter to permit their quiet time together - awkwardly looking away from the scene.

Clarke couldn’t help but lightly laugh at Octavia, unabashedly smirking at her. She was sure she would’ve gotten a thumbs up if Lexa wasn’t able to see.

Clarke obediently rose, determined to be respectful to Lexa’s duties and maintain a balance between responsibility and them. Lexa took hold of Clarke’s outstretched hands and allowed herself to be pulled up too. The Commander then stretched her spine, cracked her neck and Clarke loved her even more for doing that to her body, just so that Clarke could have the best nap ever.

Baring their audience no mind, Clarke stepped forward and wrapped Lexa in an embrace, smiling into Lexa’s neck when she felt strong arms wrap around her without a moment’s hesitation.

Yes, they should always make time for hugs.

Though Polis had always been the Capitol and rich in trade and luxuries, Lexa informed Clarke that as far as produce went, the Delphi were the richest clan. Clarke believed it, as she took in the vast plantations that stretched for miles on their journey into the village Osias, the leader of the Delfikru, called home. Not to mention the fields containing hundreds of grazing sheep, goats and cattle. And that was only for as far as Clarke could see.

Clarke had heard from her sources of the Delfikru’s wealth, of course, but seeing it for herself, she finally understood why they had been the first clan that Solas had recruited to his cause. More likely bullied. Because Solas had allied himself with the clans bordering the Delphi soon after and in so doing, secured Osias’s cooperation and an abundance of resources to feed his growing army.

The Delphi were rich in produce, because unlike the other clans, they consisted almost entirely of farmers. With only a few warriors of their own, they had relied on the Heda for protection and when the Coalition disbanded, they aligned themselves with the strongest ally they could find.

Clarke listened to Lexa theorizing as much as they rode into the heart of the village, toward a large, only slightly dilapidated mansion, over a hundred soldiers at their backs. And as she had done with all the other clans, Lexa had sent word ahead that they would be arriving, so the Azgeda warriors who had undoubtedly been sent to keep Solas’s interest at heart, had predictably vacated by then. Clarke wondered whether Lexa had anticipated a fight with those Azgeda and had therefor sent for more warriors.

She glanced over at the Commander, dressed in her ceremonial armour. The lightweight ones with the black pauldron and red sash; the helm of awe nestled between her brows. Lexa looked a combination of lethal and regal, and it left both Clarke and the villagers in a state of awe.

Osias was a short, round and fat man, a living testament to the lap of luxury he lived in. He waited for them on top the steps of his obscenely large house, surrounded by more women than men, dressed in fineries Clarke hadn’t known existed in the world outside of Lexa’s closet in Polis.

Lexa gracefully dismounted her black stallion and the village fell to their knees. She motioned one of her warriors forward, the wreathes she’d woven that morning adorning his large leather clad arms. He made an absurd picture: decorated in his war paint, armour and brightly coloured flower crowns. Clarke had to fight back a giggle, purposely not looking toward Octavia. The man himself held his head high and proud as though he’d been bestowed the greatest honour, as he carefully held is arms away from his body and followed after his Commander.

Lexa proceeded to one end of the row of kneeling women, bidding them rise and presenting them with a wreath, crowning each before moving on to the next. Osias had nine daughters and Lexa had woven a flower crown for each and every one of them, including one for Maria, Osias’s wife.

The marketplace had been filled with flowers on their journey in and Lexa informed Clarke that during times of peace and prosperity, the flowers brought as much joy to the clans as the meat and vegetables the Delphi would willingly trade.

Preparing to lurk in the background and cunningly learn what she could from Osias’s people, Clarke was surprised when Lexa beckoned her closer, from where the Heda stood in front of a grinning Osias. He’s fat cheeks were dimpled and laugh lines were present at the edges of his eyes and mouth. He was a naturally happy man, Clarke recognized, one that was desperate to get the world back to how it should be.

Clarke had been ready to declare war on the Delfi for siding with Solas and cutting off the rest of the clans from their produce, almost causing a famine before the war had even properly started. But Clarke understood now: Osias had done what he did for his people. They would’ve never survived out there, dead-centre of Azgeda allies with no army to defend themselves with.

Clarke walked forward, motivated by the relaxed set of Lexa’s shoulders. She knew then that they’d already won the Delfi back. Lexa’s presence was a mere formality. Osias had been the leader of the Delfikru for almost twenty years, so of course he must’ve known Lexa from before she died – uhm, since before they’d lost her... Osias was smiling at the Commander with utter devotion and adoration.

Clarke grinned when Lexa lovingly placed the last flower wreath on her head and introduced her to Osias and his family, who stared at Clarke with sage expressions that had her chest swelling with pride as she walked at Lexa’s side into the mansion, only stopping with the rest of the entourage when Lexa was shown to Osias’s throne and seated herself upon it.

Osias bowed to Lexa and kissed her hand, before hailing the Commander of the Blood to his people. And then the festivities began. The wine flowed and there was food in abundance. Musicians performed and people danced.

Clarke couldn’t remember ever having attended a better party.

Osias gifted Lexa with clothes and food for the remainder of their journey, and Lexa gave him one hundred of the warriors already stationed outside and promises of more to protect them should Azgeda try to take back the Delfikru’s allegiance by force.

Seated beside Lexa at the large dinner table, proudly wearing her crown of flowers and just absorbing the festivities, Clarke thought back to that morning in the field. How Lexa had just accepted Clarke in her space, as though she’d been waiting for her. Which was strange, since Clarke had been under the impression that she was the one waiting for Lexa… And then it clicked. Lexa had been waiting for Clarke to leave. To return to Arkadia. Clarke’s suspicion was only fuelled by how much more relaxed and open Lexa had been since they had left the Skaikru, even while they set out on the most perilous part of their journey.

Confidently, Clarke reached below the table and took Lexa’s hand in her own. The Heda continued to listen to whatever boisterous tale Osias was recounting, but the tips of Lexa’s ears grew red and her fingers folded neatly in between Clarke’s and there was just that hint of a secret smile on her lips as she gently squeezed Clarke’s hand in acknowledgement.

Clarke had been called Princess before. She had despised the term for its connotation to her family’s standing on the Ark. So Clarke had never thought that she would ever actually feel like one.

They pleasantly conversed with Osias, his family and trusted advisors. Clarke and Lexa’s encounter – and subsequent survival – with the Pauna, proved to be a real crowd pleaser. Lexa quietly sat back as Clarke regaled them with what had happened, only interjecting when Clarke downplayed her own role during the encounter. Lexa made it sound as though she would’ve died if it hadn’t been for Clarke uselessly emptying her clip at the mutant gorilla, patched up the Heda’s dislocated shoulder and came up with a crazy plan to get them out of the cage they’d been trapped in. Clarke felt compelled to mention that they never would’ve been in the forest in the first place had it not been for the attack by Quint, who the Heda had swiftly taken out with deadly precision, saving Clarke’s life in the process.

Seated next to the Commander, being treated not as the Fleimkepa, but as Clarke who was there with Lexa, just as Osias’s wife of thirty-seven years sat at his side, Clarke couldn’t help but adjust the flower crown on her head with a pleased smile.

Maybe she wouldn’t mind playing princess for the day, if it meant that she would be Lexa’s princess.

And when Lexa proudly told everyone how Clarke had saved the Skaikru despite Lexa having taken away the thousand-man army she’d been counting on, and how Clarke had held together an eight-clan alliance during Lexa's year-long absence, Clarke realised that the reason she was so content with the perceived title, was because Lexa didn't make Clarke feel like a princess at all. No, Lexa instead, made Clarke feel like a Queen.

Clarke almost didn’t want to leave the Delphi Clan, but they still had their biggest challenges ahead of them. It was motivation enough to move forward: the thought of being able to open trade again and spread out the Delphi’s resources to the other clans. The refugees around Polis had returned to their homes, but they were still struggling with the flow of trade stilted by the threat of war, along with the Trishana who were living in poverty and in desperate need of food supplies too.

So they marched onward toward the plains; toward the people who prided themselves on their warhorses and weapons and their skills as warriors on those horses and wielding those weapons.

The Plainriders were the opposite of the Delfikru. Their leader’s village held few livestock and plantations; mostly consisting of blacksmiths rather than traders. They hunted for sustenance and they spent their days training as warriors.

Clarke thought that the Trikru might be a cultural mix of the Delfikru and Ingranrona.

She didn’t ride with Lexa at the head of their considerably smaller army and wondered why Lexa would only take a couple dozen warriors to a clan that could actually take them down should they choose to attack. But then Clarke looked into the eyes of the warriors stood lining the path to the large open clearing at the centre of the village where their leader sat on his Iron Throne.

Their features were hard, and yet, there was still that same veneration in their eyes as the Delphi had held for their Heda.

Clarke looked to Lexa then, who was wearing her battle armour this time, instead of her ceremonial sash; meticulously applied warpaint, instead of her helm of awe. And yes, Clarke could see it now, where the Delphi needed a politician to calm their fears, the Ingranrona needed a warrior to show them strength.

Clarke hung back, tightly surrounded by the Fleimkepa’s guard as Lexa had instructed them without really having any authority over them. Octavia seemed tensed as well and yes, she’d seen the woman marching off to war before, but Clarke had never really seen Octavia look as much a warrior as she did that day, shadowing Clarke while vigilantly scanning the crowd of warriors surrounding them.

The tension on the field became palpable, when Lexa dismounted her horse and the leader of the Plainriders remained firmly seated on his throne, his warriors standing upright where they should’ve been bowing down.

“sh*t.” Clarke muttered, clutching her gun in her robes.

Whipping it out now would be the worst thing, though. Doing so would turn her from Fleimkepa into Skygirl-outsider in an instant. Clarke didn’t care, if Lexa needed her to, she would protect her by any means necessary.

Lexa stood alone, a few feet from the throne, having told her guards to stay back while she stared down the large, battle-scarred warrior. He seemed to sense his mistake at remaining seated and slowly rose, closing the distance between them to tower at least two feet over the tiny Heda.

Lexa stood unwavering, while Clarke’s knees went weak and she grew dizzy with fear.

She glanced toward Octavia, hoping to find some reassurance as her friend had provided at Arkadia, but the warrior had her hand on her hilt, jaws clenched and posture ready to attack at any given moment, just like the rest of their overwhelmingly outnumbered guard. And yet, Clarke could see that sparkle in their eyes; that thirst for battle. Clarke just knew that if Lexa commanded it, every single one of them would gladly run into this fight right after her.

Clarke almost rolled her eyes. She was still trying to understand warriors; this culture of war and honour that formed such a major part of all of the original Grounder clans. They breathed, ate and slept as warriors. It was a way of life, so deeply enrooted in their ethos that Clarke doubted it would change anytime soon.

Perhaps that was why Lexa felt that the next logical step would be to strike out and backhand the leader of the Ingranrona right across his large face.

Because of course she would do that.

Lexa backed up a few paces and swiftly drew her sword after the warrior barely flinched at her blow. Instead he reared forward, drawing his own sword in one smooth motion and their blades piercingly clashed in the space between them, an instant later.

Clarke gripped her gun and planted her feet, clenching her jaw as she watched the battle taking place along with the Plainriders who were thankfully not looking as though any of them would interfere, instead raucously cheering the battle on.

Clarke wasn’t sure why it felt worse than the fight with Roan… He’d been a great warrior, but Clarke suspected that this man had to probably be better, because the Ingranrona chose their warriors via a process similar to a Conclave. A selection system solely based on strength and skill. It was voluntary and to the death, but Clarke had heard that they often knew who the best amongst them were and leaders often stepped up unchallenged to assume the throne in the event of death.

Clarke flinched when Lexa received a blow to her face that had her looking visibly woozy thereafter and her fingers trembled on the handle of her gun, palms slippery with nervous sweat.

There was no way Clarke was going to lose Lexa again.

The Heda was bleeding from her nose and mouth. A cut on her brow had blood streaming down one side of her face and a long gash across her thigh revealed tanned flesh stained with black. Clarke’s chest heaved while she desperately tried to fill her lungs with air, growing lightheaded as the pain heavily pressing on her chest seemed to stop her from getting enough oxygen. Sweat dripped down Clarke’s temples and when Lexa was viciously kicked in her stomach, Clarke rushed forward, only to find Octavia blocking her way.

“Clarke, look at me.”

Clarke watched Octavia’s lips move, but her voice sounded faraway and muffled.

“I can’t…” Clarke managed to whisper, her arms and legs weighted with lead-filled helplessness.

I can’t lose her again.

Octavia looked at Clarke with understanding and watering eyes, about to say something when the cheering crowd grew even louder and Octavia quickly spun around. Clarke anxiously looked to where the battle had been taking place and Lexa now stood over the dead body of her opponent, looking as though she’d fought a war all on her own: slightly swaying, covered in black blood, but still standing as the Ingranrona fell to their knees.

Clarke almost collapsed in relief, thankful for Octavia who had taken a hold of her elbow, probably noticing Clarke’s body faltering. Together, they watched as Lexa limped toward the Iron Throne and gingerly lowered into it.

Finally, Clarke released the tight grip on her gun and drew in a shaky breath.

The Plainriders partied even harder than the Delfikru.

Clarke was forced to sit at a table while the warriors got drunk around her. She didn’t partake, she didn’t eat, all throughout the evening her eyes stayed glued to Lexa, who remained seated on the Iron Throne, face a mask of intimidation. The Heda made no move to tend to her wounds nor clean the blood off of herself.

The sight had Clarke’s stomach churning. Ryder had shown up to tell her that Lexa had said that she was fine, that she needed to do this. And even though Clarke was literally itching to see to Lexa’s wounds, she wasn’t sure that she would be able to stand having to clean all of that blood herself.

Lexa was fine.

Clarke repeated it in her brain like a mantra as she cursed the woman for not telling her what she would do when they reached the Plainriders. Then again, Lexa couldn’t have known that she would be met with such resistance… If she’d discussed the possibility with Clarke beforehand, Clarke would’ve had even more time to worry about it than the time the battle had lasted. So Clarke wasn’t sure yet whether she wanted to shout at Lexa for not warning her or not. The Commander had clearly been challenged, backing away from the battle would’ve instantly lost them the war.

Every now and then, one of the Plainriders would walk up to the throne, fall to their knees and lay a gift at the Heda’s feet, and by the early hours of the morning, a gigantic pile of weapons and furs had accumulated there. Still, Lexa didn’t move from her position, surrounded by a menagerie of lit torches that seemed to create the illusion that Lexa herself was the one glowing. It only added to the powerful aesthetic the Commander radiated that night.

“She has to be so many things for so many people.” Octavia sleepily murmured next to Clarke. “I’m exhausted just watching her.”

Clarke had planned on tending Lexa’s wounds that night, but she somehow managed to fall asleep at her table, surrounded by her vigilant guard as the festivities continued around her, the Heda remaining seated on the throne, watching over them all until the sun came up.

Chapter 11

Chapter Text

Clarke was surprised that she wasn’t feeling more overwhelmed by the rapid and random fluctuation of her emotions since their visit to Arkadia.

From experiencing Lexa interacting with the Skaikru, to the almost kiss and handholding at the Delfikru and then the complete and utter terror of the battle at the Ingranrona, Clarke still felt relatively sane as they continued on toward the Desert Clan. Clarke figured it was because Lexa was still at her side, functioning like some sort of anchor while the Commander strategized and ordered messengers in and out of their nomadic camp, in constant communication with their allies, already doing what was needed for the Coalition to take care of their people.

Lexa was a pillar of strength for Clarke even when she made Clarke’s knees grow weak with her intimate stares and distracting touching of Clarke’s wrist and elbow and shoulder and lower back... Clarke had noted every single one of those touches.

It was as Clarke finished instructing and sending off a messenger to Polis - leaving the two of them alone in the Heda’s tent - that she caught Lexa staring at her lips, before green eyes dazedly shifted down to Clarke’s chest. Which was sort of hot and hilarious, since the robes really didn’t give Clarke much of a shape to stare at, at all.

Lexa then frowned - actually scowled - glaring at Clarke’s chest, before she shook her head and looked up into a curious blue gaze, instantly freezing in her actions. Lexa’s expression had gone from longing to disconcerted and after being caught out, turned guilty, then apologetic, before the Commander seemed to get a hold of herself again and settled on a neutral facade.

“I find these robes on you… very unsettling.” Lexa sternly announced, while the tips of her ears turned bright red.

Instantly feeling self-conscious at the statement, Clarke awkwardly tugged at the fabric while frowning down at herself.

Probably noticing that she’d made Clarke feel uncomfortable, Lexa quickly added:

“I – you – the robes have never made me feel...” Lexa’s obvious struggle had Clarke looking up and fighting back a grin, purposely keeping her face questioning to see how much the suddenly nervous Commander would reveal, though Clarke already had a pretty good idea as to what the problem might be.

“I have only ever seen Titus in them…” Lexa’s jaw clenched after saying his name, probably still not sure how Clarke would react, considering the last time the man had come up in conversation.

Clarke smiled to show Lexa that it was fine; that Clarke wasn’t going to go off on a rant about how much she still hated Titus. Yes, the he had accidently shot the woman he had vowed to protect, the woman Clarke loved, but he’d also been trying to kill Clarke at the time. So forgiveness wasn’t high on Clarke’s list of priorities and she doubted that anyone really blamed her for that.

“Somehow…” Lexa murmured, staring at Clarke’s robes again as though she had x-ray vision. But then Lexa blinked and Clarke could literally see her deciding not to say what she wanted to say. “Somehow they look different on you… Better.” Lexa smiled and though it wasn’t what Lexa was going to say, it was still said with enough sincerity that it made Clarke feel a whole lot better about wearing her ugly robes all the time.

“Thank you, Leksa.” Clarke warmly replied and smiled at the bashful blush on Lexa’s cheeks, before the Heda nodded and hurriedly made an excuse to exit the tent.

Clarke suspected that Lexa had been on the verge of confessing that she had associated the robes with Titus – her mentor and teacher, somewhat of a father figure - and what was unsettling for her, was now picturing Clarke naked underneath them, which probably made the poor Heda inadvertently think of Titus naked underneath them, and yeah, Clarke could understand how that could really mess with Lexa’s head.

Geographically, it made no sense to have visited the clans in the order they had. Strategically, Clarke had figured out that Lexa was detouring and retracing their path to firstly, gain the most influential of Solas’s allies, and secondly, to allow Solas time to stew in worry; knowing that they were coming and to receive the news of his allies bowing down to Lexa.

Clarke of course could’ve just asked Lexa why she did certain things in certain ways, the Heda having always been forthcoming with information, but she enjoyed figuring it out for herself and then discussing it with Lexa, whose eyes would sparkle while she listened to Clarke speak in understanding. Clarke suspected that Lexa purposely didn’t detail her plans so that Clarke would learn for herself the motivations behind them.

Lexa was going to be a great teacher and role model for Milah and it gave Clarke so much hope for the future of their people.

The Sangedakru had conceded the throne with as much tension as the Podakru had. They weren’t a large clan in land and population size, but they had been harassing the neighbouring Flaudonkru at Solas’s behest, taking fishing villages and diverting food supplies to their own clan and Azgeda. But they had bent for the Heda, though Clarke still wasn’t sure whether they would swear allegiance at the upcoming Summit.

By the time they reached the cliffs overlooking the Ice Nation valley, Lexa’s wounds had all but healed. When Clarke had woken late that morning in her tent outside of the Ingranrona village, - not sure who had carried her there – she’d found Lexa patched up and ready to travel onward, after having already met with the new leader of the Plainriders.

“Is it the Night Blood?” Clarke had curiously asked. “Does it help you heal faster?”

Clarke had first noticed Lexa’s rapid healing after only needing the sling on her shoulder for a few hours after their run-in with the Pauna. Then again after the fight with Roan, when Lexa had come to Clarke’s room without even the slightest bit of swelling to her gorgeous face. Then again when Clarke had tended to Lexa’s neck wound after having had reinserted The Flame, only to find the scarring already looking over a week into the healing process the day after.

“I believe so.” Lexa had nodded. “I think it may be the reason I’m still alive. It seems as though I’m also slightly stronger and faster than someone of my build should be…”

Before, Clarke had hated that Lexa had no choice over her destiny because of the colour of her blood, but since learning that it actually made Lexa more physically resilient, Clarke was nothing but grateful for it.

Clarke and Lexa were seated on horseback, hidden by the thinning treeline on the cliffs where the Trikru and Azgeda forests melded together and stared down into the valley that Solas called home. According to Lexa, the entire inhabitable Azgeda territory was situated in that valley, sixty per cent of which was bordered by mountains and ten per cent by a very large lake separating them from the Sangedakru.

Clarke accepted the binoculars Lexa handed her with a smile and released a small gasp when her eyes landed on the massive stony fortress built at the foot of the mountains, camouflaged and almost integrated into the grey rocky slopes. Her gaze travelled down from two massive wooden doors, to hundreds of steps, wide enough for twenty men to walk next to each other, to a large open field symmetrically flanked by several large barracks where the Azgeda army were either milling about or sparring.

Lexa remained silent while Clarke raptly took in every detail. There was a village off in the distance, but it was clear that Solas – Nia and every Azgeda monarch before her – had built a stronghold filled with a population of mainly warriors – much like the Plainriders. Only, Azgeda outnumbered the Plainriders four to one and like Indra had warned, there were more Azgeda warriors than Trikru warriors.

Frowning, Clarke silently handed the binoculars back to Lexa who had been intently studying her reaction.

“I suppose that it would be futile to ask you to travel to Tondisi and wait for me there?” Lexa softly asked, with a hint of frustration and amusem*nt.

“Yep.” Clarke answered, her eyes still roaming the large valley. No way in hell was she sending Lexa in there alone. “What’s their problem though?” Clarke angrily wondered. “Is this really all about power?”

For as long as anyone could remember, warring was what the Azgeda did. And they did it well.

It was in their blood and their monarchs were judged based on how many battles they had won and territories they had claimed for their clan. Indra had detailed a history of violence, where parents were overthrown by ambitious children and sons and daughters had been disowned and banished because of perceived weakness as warriors. Clarke had only to remember Nia’s anger at Roan losing his battle to Lexa to know that that was true. His failure had been seen as a personal slight against his mother.

“You’ve travelled throughout the clans, Klark. Most of Azgeda looks like this. Do you see?” Lexa patiently coaxed and handed back the binoculars.

Clarke accepted them, but didn’t use them again, instead frowning out over the valley. Her blue eyes rapidly ran over everything, but it wasn’t until Clarke was mentally comparing the Delfikru’s crops with the meagre fields of the Azgeda, that realisation struck.

“They’re running out of space and resources for their people.” Clarke realised out loud. “They’re bordered by other clans, a lake and a mountain range so they have nowhere to go, and though they have plenty of water, Jon had mentioned once how difficult it is to get anything to grow at the foot of these mountains. A lot of the land is more rock than anything else...” She answered, looking to Lexa who nodded with a small smile.

“They have also prioritized increasing their warriors and have hunted or chased away most of the prey in this forest. In the past few years, they’ve come to rely heavily on resources from other clans to survive.” Lexa added.

“But then,” Clarke’s brows scrunched together, “shouldn’t they want this Coalition more than any of the other clans?”

Well at least as much as the Trishana and Skaikru, who were in a similar position.

“The Coalition facilitates safe and fair trade yes, but what do Azgeda have to trade?” Lexa rhetorically asked. “They need more than they have to barter with. While other clans were growing in skills and becoming crafters and farmers, Azgeda prioritized their army and their Commanders took whatever resources they needed from others to ensure that their people flourished. Even the Ingranrona at least have enough land to hunt for survival.”

Clarke frowned some more and Lexa smiled, lifting a hand and gently brushed her thumb between Clarke’s brows, smoothing out the worry lines. Clarke entirely lost her train of thought for a second. A minute? Lexa just fondly stared at her as though they had all the time in the world. Well, they did have that evening at least, as they would be camping in the forest and heading into Azgeda in the morning. Though the distance seemed short as the crow flies, they needed to travel a few miles along the cliffs to join the main path that would allow their horses and carts to safely travel down into the valley.

“You wouldn’t just leave them here to starve.” Clarke stated, after managing to finally pull herself away from those eyes, knowing it to be fact.

“You know this?” Lexa murmured.

“Yes.” Clarke affirmed without any doubt or hesitation.

“Do you think that they know this?”

Clarke opened her mouth to speak about all the good Lexa had done, but then she remembered that people didn’t make the most logical decisions when they were scared.

“How could they know?” Lexa smiled, having seen the answer in Clarke’s eyes. “They are here in their valley, listening to their leader preaching about their poverty while other clans flourish… When I became Commander, I had to defeat this army to ensure that they joined the Coalition and prospered with the rest of us. Unfortunately, Nia wanted Azgeda in power. Her people never forgot that it was my Trikru army which had defeated them. They would raid convoys filled with food meant for others and tell those others that the Coalition must not have sent it to them. Nia had done many things to have Azgeda and others turn against the Coalition, and she’d been mostly unsuccessful until Skaikru fell from the sky, effortlessly destroying villages in their wreckage.”

Clarke swallowed thickly and Lexa attempted to give her a reassuring smile. In addition to not having had any control as they were crashing to the ground, they’d had no idea there were even people there. Clarke didn’t bother reiterating those facts, Lexa knew them already and her statement hadn’t held any resentment, just sadness for the people who had been lost.

“Skaikru who burnt three hundred warriors in a ring of fire. Skaikru with their guns, who destroyed the powerful Maunon who’d been killing our people for decades… Nia had needed her people afraid of something, and when Skaikru fell, she had what she needed to convince the ambassadors that I was weak and therefor the Coalition was weak and wouldn’t be able to protect them against the Skaikru threat.”

“And then you didn’t kill me and welcomed Skaikru into the Coalition, instead of destroying us.”

“Yes.” Lexa sighed. “From what I’ve learned from Senna and the people she introduced me to, the belief is still strong that Skaikru are the Bringers of Death. Even more so now, after what had happened in the City of Light, which Skaikru are blamed for by some. Recently, I’ve been told by my spies in Azgeda that rumours had spread that it had been a Skaikru weapon that had killed their Heda, and believe that the Fleimkepa controls me now, because why haven’t I taken my vengeance?”

The Circle of the Flame had never publicly confirmed that Titus had shot the Heda with a gun, but it made sense that Azgeda would spread those rumours. Well, that they would capitalize on the truth… Some of the guards had heard the gunfire. There’d been rumours in Polis too for a while, but everyone had been too shaken about their experience in the City of Light to give it much thought. Especially since Lexa and Clarke had clearly been on the same team when they’d been sighted there.

“They say that I’m an imposter, because how could I have survived a bullet to the gut? Am I truly Leksa kom Trikru, or had the Skaikru technology manufactured me to do their bidding?” Lexa smirked and shook her head, but there was an air of melancholy around her and Clarke knew why.

“We’re really going to have to go to war, aren’t we?”

Lexa nodded. “Solas won’t challenge me directly. Tomorrow he will offer me a seat on his throne whilst most likely planning an assassination that will not make him seem at fault, to prevent our allies from seeking retribution. I wouldn’t be surprised if he plans to make it seem as though Skaikru are to blame…”

Clarke wanted to tell Lexa to just leave it. To just go and gather her army and come and remove Solas and then show the Azgedakru that they would be protected by the Coalition. But Clarke knew better than that. How do you rage a war against a people and then turn around and ask for trust thereafter?

So she tried to compromise:

“Maybe I should just go to Tondisi.” Clarke murmured. She was still considered Skaikru, so showing up with Lexa was just going to provide Solas with more bullsh*t ammunition to feed his starving people.

“As I mentioned earlier, there’s nothing I want more than that, but perhaps I’d spoken from personal wants, rather than what would be the wisest move on our part.” Lexa sighed again, the trip clearly having taken a psychological toll on the Commander. “It’s your choice, Klark, but leaving now will seem like you fear them. He will call you a coward; duplicitous. Because why have you visited all of the clans, save Azgeda…” Another long exhale, before Lexa straightened her back and squared her shoulders, determined green eyes gazing at Clarke in a way that made the blonde’s spine go rigid too.

“We will go in there; he won’t order his warriors to attack unprovoked with so many witnesses. It would be seen as cowardly and he would lose face with his warriors. So we will be safe throughout the festivities. I don’t know him well, but I do know his anger had made him foolish in many battles fought between Azgeda and the Trikru. He would never have become King if Roan hadn’t died childless and ended the Azgeda monarchy’s line of succession. I believe that he had been nominated, because as a general and a veteran warrior, he controlled a large portion of their army, so seemed like the most plausible choice given the state of the world.”

Clarke was astounded at how much Lexa had learned after only being back a couple of weeks. Or were these things that Senna had told her? Since that woman was still a touchy subject, Clarke didn’t ask, not willing to allow Senna to come between them again.

Lexa had said that she had spies in Azgeda and throughout their journey Clarke had seen and personally vetted a few strangers joining their delegation before leaving again. They’d presented themselves as messengers, many from Polis, so Clarke stopped asking and only made sure that Lexa approved of their presence wherever they’d set up camp.

God, the woman was impressive and Clarke could just bask in her presence and watch the Heda do her thing. Still, Clarke also loved to challenge Lexa and suspected that Lexa loved it too. They would frequently bounce ideas off of each other like they were rallying in a tennis match.

“So your big plan is to antagonize him?” Clarke shook her head incredulously and Lexa smirked.

“Yes. We will show his council that Azgeda is being run by a fool who does not hold their best interest at heart and have those advisors elect someone else. Solas is not king by blood, so it is possible to overthrow him without too much of a backlash from the Ice Nation. Jon seems like a reasonable alternative, don’t you think?”

Clarke nodded her agreement. Jon would be her first pick too. He at least seemed to care about his people more than usurping the Commander’s throne. Their various dealings over the past year had shown Clarke at least that much.

“Do you know whether Solas’s hatred for Skaikru is real, or is he just using it like Nia had done? Hating an entire clan just because a few people messed up is the stupidest thing I have ever heard.” Clarke huffed her annoyance.

“Does that not remind you of anyone?

“Who?”

“Your Belomi.”

“Ew, Leksa. He’s not my, Bellamy.” Clarke grimaced. “Kane’s like adopted him or something, which practically makes him my stepbrother; the black sheep of the family.” Clarke smirked and the Heda chuckled.

“They both fear what they don’t know and turn it into hatred to make themselves feel more powerful and righteous in their foolish actions.” Lexa commented after sobering. “Solas’s people remain united against a perceived enemy. Skaikru has become that enemy. And if I support Skaikru, obviously I am the enemy too. For years, Nia had used my inability to defeat the Maunon, against me. If Skaikru didn’t exist, Solas would’ve found something to hate about the Trikru and used that to rally his people, as they had done in the past. Azgeda had been in power for a very long time, training their Natblidas as Nia had done with Ontari… They had grown used to having their people in Polis; to ruling over the clans and taking from them whatever they wanted.” Lexa sighed. “There’s nothing worse than hatred combined with a sense of entitlement.”

Clarke thought of how Pike had wormed his way to the top and sowed seeds of doubt with their people and knew exactly how Solas was keeping the Azgeda motivated toward war. He was promoting the belief that there was no other option. That they either fought or died. Clarke had never understood how her people could’ve voted for Pike over Kane, but now she did. Pike had used their fear and turned it into hatred to make them feel a false sense of empowerment in a chaotic and frightening new world.

“Solas had worshipped Nia and will most likely be very angry at me for her death. I’ve heard rumours that he’d been her lover.”

“I’ve heard that he’s Ontari’s father.” Clarke anxiously added, because if either of those facts were true…

“He would want a war especially now that I’m Commander again.” Lexa nodded.

“Why hadn’t he killed you while you were vulnerable and without your memories?” Clarke wondered.

Lexa bit her lip and got a sad expression on her face.

“I don’t think that Senna had told him of my existence for a very long time. For months, it had only been Jon who had visited us and later a few others came with him. Jon had also been the one to inform us of Luna’s ceremony and kept us updated on what was happening in the world. I don’t think that Solas had known about me until Jon told him when it was too late and Senna and I were already on our way to Polis…”

Lexa trailed off and remained silent, probably wondering the same thing Clarke was: whether Senna and Jon had tried to protect Lexa even whilst they had clearly been trying to manipulated her. Jon was probably also the one who had helped Senna smuggle Lexa out of Polis on the day Ontari tried to Ascend, most likely having been there as part of the Azgeda delegation accompanying King Roan to the Conclave.

Did it make a difference that they hadn’t told Solas about Lexa? Not so much to Clarke, who was still angry that Senna had kept Lexa away for so long, but Clarke suspected that it might’ve meant something to Lexa.

Things were predictably tense when they ascended the steps toward the entrance of the Azgeda Fortress, where Clarke was finally able to see the infamous Solas in person. He was a tall, grey haired man, with the customary Azgeda warrior markings decorating his face.

He seemed in his early fifties and not as physically fit as his warriors were and Clarke could see why he wouldn’t challenge Lexa himself and a vote of no confidence at the Summit meeting to try for another battle by proxy, wouldn’t go in his favour either. Clarke suspected that Solas knew that he would be outnumbered; that the Plainriders had practically already sworn their allegiance to Lexa. Between Lexa and Solas, it was very clear who the better warrior was and the Ingranrona’s loyalty and army, went with the strongest leader.

He stiffly bowed to Lexa and offered her his throne with cold eyes and a blatantly false smile.

“I had hoped that you wouldn’t bring a Skaiyon into Azgeda’s walls, Heda.” Solas sneered, icy grey eyes filled with disgust as he stared at Clarke standing beside the throne, at her usual place on Lexa’s right.

“The Fleimkepa is my most trusted advisor.” Lexa coldly warned, levelling Solas with such a steely glare that the man reflexively took a step back, before he defiantly straightened, along with Clarke, whose chest puffed with pride at the unashamed honesty reflected in Lexa’s statement. “You will treat her with the respect her position demands, or I will have your head for insulting the leader of the Circle of the Flame.”

Solas looked about to say something, but instead he clenched his jaws and ducked his head, stiffly bowing to Clarke and then Lexa, before turning to the hall full of people gathered below the dais.

“Azgeda welcomes the Heda and the Fleimkepa to our halls! All hail Leksa kom Trikru, Commander of the Blood!” He rigidly announced.

And after Lexa bid the Ice Nation rise, Solas slunk off with excuses about seeing that the feast gets underway.

Lexa remained on Solas’s throne in the large hall, instead of seated at his table, as though she was presiding over the meagre feast. She didn’t eat anything on offer and neither did anyone else in their party, which really was a slap in the face of their host who had most likely reluctantly prepared the meal from limited resources. Lexa had effectively and significantly, cut Solas’s infantry and food supplies by winning back the allegiance of the Delfikru and Plainriders. Everybody in that hall knew it as they watched the way the Commander stoically stared down her nose at their King with barefaced condemnation.

Despite Solas’s passive aggressive antagonism and the vitriolic sneers he couldn’t quite control whenever Lexa conversed with his much too eager to please Council while completely ignoring him, Clarke found that many of the Azgeda in attendance – well, more than Clarke had expected – didn’t seem to share the same level of hatred as their King.

Lexa had asked Clarke if she would keep her eyes and ears open, while Lexa worked her charm on the Council, so Clarke mingled with the Azgeda, Octavia the least physically intimidating – though no less proficient - of her guards, accompanying her.

They casually discussed the incident at Mount Weather, dubiously wondering out loud why Azgeda would side with the last remaining Maunon who had terrorized the clans for so long. Octavia, - having been prepped by Clarke - then conveniently remembered how Clarke had in fact killed Emerson for all he’d done to the thirteen clans, because he came after her people again, just like she’d killed the rest of the Maunon too.

There were a few Azgeda listening and partaking in the conversation. More still giving the two Skaikru a wide berth and acidic and distrusting glares. But the ones they spoke to, seemed more curious about them than anything. So Clarke played up her Wanheda status for the crowd, sensing that in this instance, it held a lot more weight than her title of Fleimkepa. The former being something Clarke had earned, while the latter was something Clarke had been given.

Clarke and Octavia animatedly recounted Lexa’s battle against Roan and the one against the leader of the Plainriders, even though Clarke had been too anxious during both to really remember all the details. They made sure to speak about Lexa’s fight with Bellamy at length, making sure that Azgeda knew that Skaikru had sworn their allegiance already and that the little resistance there was, had been dealt with swiftly.

Clarke didn’t even need to embellish much; Lexa’s actions spoke for themselves. Soon she would have an alliance that was twelve clans strong and an army that completely outnumbered Azgeda at her back. And when Lexa rose from the throne – still early in the evening when dinner had barely been finished – Clarke was pleased that she’d spread enough information to enough people for the majority of the hall to fall to their knees in a mixture of fear, respect and veneration that far outweighed anything they might’ve felt toward the Skaikru.

Clarke just hoped that enough of them would share the information with the rest of the Azgedakru who watched their small group with obvious suspicion as they made their way back to their tents outside the perimeter of the warriors’ barracks.

Lexa had very loudly and distastefully declined Solas’s offer of accommodation in the fortress, stating that she would be more comfortable in her tent.

They were camped about a mile away from the barracks and Clarke was softly relaying everything that had happened that evening to Lexa, who still seemed as intense as she had been inside of the fortress and Clarke knew that something was wrong even before they entered Lexa’s tent.

Clarke casually leaned against a post and watched Lexa pack a small bag before pulling on her battle armour.

“Something you want to tell me?” Clarke asked.

“We will need to leave. As predicted, I’ve been warned of an assassination attempt.”

Clarke wasn’t even surprised, she could see it plastered across Solas’s face, that want to wring Lexa’s neck for disrespecting him in front of his people. Considering all the support the Coalition had gained on their journey through the clans, an assassination would be the only way for Solas to regain the upper hand now. He’d lost his most valuable alliances in a matter of days and Clarke suspected that his Council would now be looking to him to reassure them that he would be able to win a war against a very powerful Commander.

Something Solas would in no way be able to assure them of.

Hell, as Clarke had innocently queried about when Azgeda would be harvesting, she’d made sure to make them think about possibly starving soon and then proceeded to talk about all the food supplies that have already been dispatch to the villages having suffered worst in Lexa’s absence.

The message that had been broadcast to Azgeda that night had been the same as it had been in all of the clans: The Coalition will keep you safe and fed. The Heda will keep you safe and fed.

“Who told you?” Clarke wondered, perpetually suspicious.

She trusted Lexa’s ability to read a situation and Lexa wouldn’t just believe whatever anyone told her. Clarke had kept an eye out for Senna during the evening, but hadn’t seen the woman there. She would’ve asked the people she’d spoken too, but that would’ve turned the seemingly ‘light conversation’ into an interrogation and Clarke would’ve lost her audience immediately.

“Jon.”

“You trust him?”

Though both of them agreed that Jon was a good candidate to replace Solas because of his love of his people and his easily readable face, it didn’t mean that either of them trusted the man.

Lexa shrugged. “That man isn’t very good at lying.”

“Why did he tell you, though? Isn’t he loyal to Solas?”

“We were joined by others before I could ask him and Jon conveniently disappeared thereafter.”

They both were reluctant to believe that he had just done it out of the goodness of his heart. For all they knew this was just an attempt to get closer to Lexa again; to gain her trust and then Jon would become the assassin himself.

“What will they say about us running away?” Clarke wondered.

“You and I will sneak out under the cover of darkness and cut through the forest toward the cliffs. If we leave now, we can rest for a few hours after reaching the top. It will give us a head start because whoever comes for us here, will do so in the early hours of the morning, thinking that we are asleep. The rest of our guard will set out before sunrise and hopefully lead them away from us. We are outnumbered whether we stay with the group or not.” Lexa explained. “Given my behaviour tonight at the feast held in my honour, it will seem as though I had just decided to leave without any farewells to the King. If no one got through our guards to find us absent during the night, Solas would be extra eager to send people after our delegation, and when they find us without the group, we will be far enough ahead of any trackers he sends after us up the cliffs.” Lexa then slung her bag over her shoulder and held out her hand to Clarke.

Clarke took it with a stupid smile. Stupid because running for your life from the Ice Nation army shouldn’t make you smile, but somehow getting to hold Lexa’s hand while doing it, was made it all okay.

So, so very stupidly in love, Clarke rolled her eyes at herself for being ridiculous.

Lexa didn’t let go while she quickly gave instruction to the captain of the guard, and Octavia and Ryder elected to go with them, while Riley led the diversion.

Clarke realised then the tense set of Lexa’s jaw and shoulders and how dangerous the situation must really be. She didn’t feel scared though; if they were running away instead of facing down a massive army with only thirty guards behind them, Clarke was all for it.

So she laced her fingers with Lexa’s, grinning again when the Heda gave her hand a comforting squeeze with eyes that screamed a promise to protect Clarke and keep her safe.

And maybe that look right there, was the reason why Clarke wasn’t as scared as she should’ve been.

Chapter 12

Chapter Text

Clarke didn’t realise where they were headed until the Trading Post was in sight and then her heart promptly dropped down into her stomach.

Octavia caught her attention, eyes sparkling with mirth at Clarke’s expense, because she knew. Clarke had told her everything. Octavia had interrogated Clarke about the three months she’d spent fending for herself in the forest and Clarke thought that that was properly the day that her relationship with the young warrior had changed for the better.

Clarke was very proud of her survival skills as well.

She sincerely hoped that Niylah had made it through the A.L.I.E. conflict and that she’d left when Clarke had advised her to and in so doing avoided the subsequent Azgeda conflict… Still, Clarke dreaded being in the same room with Niylah after everything that had happened after the night they’d spent together.

Oh, and it didn’t help that Lexa would be there in the room with them too.

Upon fleeing Azgeda on foot, their little group had travelled until they reached the top of the cliffs, where they rested until sunrise, each taking a turn to stand guard over their campsite while the others slept. Well, Clarke hadn’t gotten a turn, because Lexa had tricked Clarke into thinking that she would wake Clarke up and then didn’t. Clarke had managed to give her the silent treatment for just under two hours that morning, but couldn’t really stay mad when Lexa kept on nervously biting her bottom lip and glancing at Clarke with puppy dog eyes filled with longing and an apology she would never voice out loud, because Lexa felt that she’d done the right thing, even though she was sorry that Clarke was mad.

They’d been walking the entire day and the sun was setting again, when the Commander signalled them to stop once they cleared the treeline. They stood there until the door to the Post swung open and Niylah stepped out, armed with a crossbow. Up until that point Clarke had desperately been hoping that Niylah wouldn’t be home.

Niylah narrowed her eyes at their group, but once she recognized Lexa, her weapon dropped to the ground and she fell to her knees after it, even as a wide – though disbelieving - grin spread across her face.

Lexa fondly rolled her eyes and walked forward, extending a hand which Niylah instantly gripped and was swiftly lugged up and into a quick hug, her delighted laughter echoing through the forest.

Clarke’s jaw dropped and then summarily clenched shut again. She’d never heard Niylah laugh before…

“We will speak later, Niylah, but first I need a bow.” Lexa’s voice was suddenly urgent and Clarke hurriedly followed after them into the Trading Post.

She ignored Niylah’s gaze on her.

“They are where I’ve always kept them, Heda.” Niylah directed Lexa, after dragging her gaze away from Clarke.

“I will repay your kindness.” Lexa absently called out over her shoulder, already stringing up a bow.

Niylah waved her off as though she knew that Lexa would, or didn’t care whether she did.

“Leksa,” Clarke cleared her throat and the only indication that Lexa was listening was the way she tilted her head toward Clarke, while she stripped herself of her armour, “what’s going on?”

“We’re being followed.” Lexa answered. “About a dozen warriors?” She glanced at Ryder who nodded his agreement.

Clarke frowned when Octavia didn’t seem surprised either.

“Why are you taking your armour off?” Clarke worried, because no one else seemed to be stressed about what was happening.

“I will take to the trees, provide cover for Okteivia and Ryder from above, to lower their numbers. You will stay here.” Lexa hesitated, then looked to Niylah, who earnestly nodded her agreement to some unspoken question.

“I will take her to Tondisi should there be any danger before your return.” Niylah answered.

Clarke’s fists clenched. She wasn’t sure why she was so upset all of a sudden, but she hated that she was the only person in the room seemingly not on the same page as the rest.

“They’re just scouts following a trail, uncertain as to who it is they’re following.” Lexa expounded, most likely having noticed Clarke’s creasing brow. “Solas is taking a chance.”

“And you just have to go and find them?” Clarke irritably wondered.

“It’s too dangerous to keep travelling to Tondisi through the night. Too many wild animals.” Lexa explained. “Azgeda will continue to pursue us. And since I intend on making use of Niylah’s hospitality for the evening, if I don’t go to kill them now, they will attack us here, while we rest. If we hurry, we will be able to ambush them.” Lexa’s jaw twitched and Clarke felt like a child being scolded.

Tensions were high and Clarke was stalling them.

To her absolute horror, Clarke felt her eyes burning with tears and the irritation left Lexa’s face instantly. Lexa gave a few long strides toward her and cupped Clarke’s cheeks and gently lifted Clarke’s face when she tried to look down to hide her features in shame.

“Bosh moba, Klark.” Lexa earnestly whispered.

Apologies, Clarke.

“I’m not a warrior.” Clarke’s bottom lip trembled, and she hated herself for being overwhelmed, because she felt so removed from the situation.

And there was Niylah, reminding Clarke of a time where it felt as though all Clarke did was fail, no matter how hard she had tried to save her people. And Lexa was running off without any armour and Clarke wanted to protect her, but throughout their journey, Lexa had proven that she didn’t need any protection. Lexa had successfully anticipated and negated the actions of their enemies and allies.

Clarke had gone with Lexa to be of some use at least. To show Lexa that they needed each other. But she just felt in the way, knowing that Lexa would’ve probably taken out the Azgedakru following them already, instead of safely dropping Clarke off at the Trading Post first. Hell, Lexa might’ve even taken out Solas, if Clarke hadn’t been there with her in the heart of Azgeda territory.

Lexa’s arms wrapped around Clarke, holding her close and Clarke instantly melted. Hugs. She was supposed to be giving Lexa as many hugs as possible and hadn’t even been doing much of that.

“You have the heart of a warrior.” Lexa murmured and held on a little tighter when Clarke indignantly scoffed and mildly struggled to move out of her arms. “I will teach you, as we’ve all been taught.” Lexa continued and Clarke settled.

She’d gotten a glimpse of what a Trikru Second went through and yeah, that so wasn’t Clarke’s thing, but Clarke highly doubted that Lexa would beat the living crap out of her to teach her ‘the ways of a warrior’.

“How can you know what you haven’t learned?” Lexa rhetorically asked and pulled back, flashing Clarke a dazzling smile that had the blonde forgetting everything for a moment.

“Do you promise?” Clarke finally remembered herself, and smirked when Lexa realised what she’d open the door to: More one on one time.

She didn’t seem to mind the idea and gave Clarke a sideways smirk in acknowledgement.

“I promise.” Lexa conceded with a gentle, spontaneous kiss to Clarke’s forehead. “I will be back soon.” Lexa made a second promise with a stern look at Niylah, before she left the Post with Octavia and Ryder.

Ever so slowly, Clarke turned to face her one-time lover.

Once alone, Niylah instantly started speaking about what a relief it was to have Lexa back. Clarke felt awkward and was barely listening. She hadn’t even thought of Niylah the past year and wondered what kind of a person that made her.

“I’m sorry that I never came back to check on you…”

She’d had her hands full with Polis and building an alliance. Clarke had hardly even seen her own people… Regardless, Clarke knew that she’d purposely pushed Niylah out of her mind, because it was easier than admitting how she’d wronged the woman who’d done nothing but help her when Clarke had really needed it.

“I can take care of myself,” Niylah retorted, “and everyone knows that I have the Commander’s protection. My family have been loyal to Leksa since she Ascended.”

“But she’d been gone…” Clarke reasoned.

“The Trikru still protect me in her name. Onya had been my cousin. Her name carries great weight on its own.”

Clarke felt ashamed, but then her brows knitted together.

“Did you know who I was back then, because Leksa told you?”

Niylah laughed out loud.

“When you first came here, you had spoken our language like a child. Of course I knew who you were. Heda had been looking for you and I told her that you had been here. She then said to keep trading with you and to make sure you were doing well, but to do nothing else.”

“She’d known where I was all that time…” Clarke incredulously murmured after her suspicion had been confirmed.

Finally, it made sense how Roan knew exactly where to search for Clarke. The Heda’s lands were vast and it had been three months since anyone but Niylah had seen her. Clarke could’ve literally been anywhere. For all anyone knew, she could’ve been dead.

Lexa had honestly let her be, until Nia had gotten too close to finding Wanheda to kill her for her power. Clarke had believed Lexa when she’d said as much, especially when Lexa had told Clarke that she would be able to go home with Abby if she wanted. Lexa had needed her help, but she wouldn’t have forced Clarke to stay in Polis. Clarke knew that Lexa had given Clarke the space she needed after mass-murdering the entire Mount Weather population, probably having had to fight the urge to just come and drag Clarke out of the forest and take her somewhere safe.

But Lexa had always understood Clarke more than anyone else has…

Clarke wouldn’t have responded well to Lexa showing up. Lexa had known how hurt and angry Clarke had been and still made sure that Clarke was okay, without asking for a thank you or any acknowledgement whatsoever. And without even trying to use such a kindness to manipulate Clarke into forgiving her when they’d later reunited.

Because if they’d never fled Azgeda and come to the Trading Post, Clarke might’ve never found out what Lexa had done for her.

It was suddenly so glaringly obvious how much Lexa cared. Hell, it had been obvious when Aden had told Clarke that Skaikru would be protected after the Conclave, as Lexa had asked each and every one of her Nightbloods to vow...

Apparently it was suddenly obvious to Niylah too, who gasped, her stoic features morphing into panic and horror.

“You had been hers even then?” She gaped. “You can’t tell Heda that I had even touched you.” Niylah seemed to finally remember the night they shared.

Clarke was very much offended.

“Leksa and I weren’t…” Clarke trailed off, not sure what to say. They hadn’t been committed, but Clarke had been running from her feelings for Lexa as much as from what she’d done in the Mountain.

Niylah ignored her in favour of angrily muttering to herself about how she had known Clarke was trying to get over someone and lamented not having asked who. That she’d just thought that Leksa had been keeping an eye on a possible enemy by asking Niylah to watch Clarke back then.

Clarke left Niylah to her anxious cleaning and quiet cursing and went to sit and wait for Lexa’s return, wondering how on earth she’d managed to fall in love with the Heda even more.

Later, when Niylah handed her a plate of food and sat down beside her, Clarke finally gathered the courage to say what she wanted to say.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered.

“What for?” Niylah murmured, seemingly disinterested in whatever Clarke had to say.

“For the way I treated you…” Clarke answered.

“I enjoyed myself, so don’t apologise. Now please stop speaking of it before Heda returns.”

“Leksa won’t hurt you.” Clarke confidently stated. “Back then, I didn’t even think I’d ever see her again. She’s not the kind of person to hold something like that against you, especially considering that you didn’t even know.”

Niylah snorted like Clarke was an idiot.

“I don’t fear Heda’s punishment. My wish is to not show her any disrespect.”

Oh.

Properly chastised, Clarke was quiet for a bit, wondering whether she and Niylah would’ve been more if Clarke had actually bothered to get to know the woman. They could maybe have become friends, but back then, Clarke could barely give someone that much trust. She still struggled with it at present.

“Now I’m even more sorry.” Clarke murmured with a self-deprecating smile, causing Niylah to chuckle at least. “Seriously, though,” she sighed, “I didn’t mean to use you the way I did. I learned afterward what Azgeda had done to you and you still protected me… And then I brought someone here who had been involved in the murder of your father and hid that fact from you too…” Stating it like that only made Clarke feel worse. “I know sorry isn’t much considering all you sacrificed and lost because I came into your life… But it’s all I have right now, and maybe someday, I will have done enough to make it up to you.”

Niylah stared at Clarke for a long moment and it was all Clarke could do to not look away in shame.

“You have made a good start, Klark kom Skaikru.” Niylah smirked, before getting up and taking their dishes to the back.

Clarke felt just a little bit lighter.

After returning victorious from their ambush, Lexa went to bath in the tub that Niylah had prepared for her. Clarke had decided to tell Lexa about what had happened between her and Niylah, but that night really didn’t seem like the right time... They hadn’t even sorted out what was going on between them yet. But Clarke would tell her as soon as she and Lexa were a bit more stable in their relationship and Lexa didn’t have the Summit to worry about.

Clarke had tried to stay awake, just in case Niylah let something slip, but escaping a fortress, hiking from dawn to dusk and panicking for a few hours while the woman you loved and your best friend went off to confront an enemy that outnumbered them four to one, really took its toll on a girl.

So Clarke curled up next to Octavia and fell asleep to the sounds of Niylah and Lexa softly talking into the night.

The next morning, Clarke was the last to wake to a hearty breakfast and soon they were ready to head out again on the two horses Niylah had given them to reach Ton DC faster, since they wouldn’t be needing to scale any more cliffs.

Niylah’s eyes were full of admiration, affection and a hint of guilt while she and Lexa spoke. Clarke hoped that the latter was only noticeable because she was looking for it. But while seated on a horse a few yards away, Clarke intently observed Lexa and Niylah saying their goodbyes, and cringed when Niylah abruptly fell to her knees, rapidly saying things Clarke couldn’t quite hear.

Lexa grew rigid with every single word, until finally Niylah cautiously lifted her head, tears running down her cheeks.

Clarke’s heart was frantically hammering even when she knew she shouldn’t feel guilty. But Niylah was so scared – ashamed? - and Clarke had seen Lexa’s ruthlessness before. It was an act, Clarke reminded herself. That wasn’t Lexa. That was the Commander she became to bully the power hungry leaders into obeying her and doing what was best for their people.

Lexa wouldn’t hurt Niylah over this…

Lexa’s lips moved and it was as though the words she spoke were all Niylah had ever wanted to hear. Fervently nodding, Niylah wiped her cheeks and finally straightened to her full length. Lexa’s expression was soft and filled with affection and when she spoke again, Niylah laughed and looked to Clarke and then back to Lexa, nodding in agreement.

“I think they’re talking about you.” Octavia needlessly – deliberately - said next to Clarke, from her perch on the other horse, behind Ryder’s back.

Clarke just gritted her teeth and averted her steely gaze when Lexa walked over and got up behind her, instantly enveloping Clarke’s entire body in warmth.

All morning Clarke had been looking forward to that moment; making sure that she and Lexa would be sharing a horse. Making sure to let everyone know that they should leave the third with Niylah, for safety reasons. Clarke had set everything up and yet now with Lexa’s arms around her, gently holding onto the reins, all Clarke could think about was Niylah’s smirk and Lexa’s chuckle when the two waved to each other before they set out toward Ton DC.

“What did she tell you?” Clarke finally muttered, lowly and angrily, after stewing in her own insecurities for almost an hour.

Smoothly, Lexa fell back with their horse and as if sensing the intention, Ryder trotted a few yards ahead, but made sure to keep in sight.

“That she had sex with you.” Lexa spoke against her ear and Clarke shuddered despite the edgy twist in her belly.

“It doesn’t bother you?” Clarke queried through gritting teeth.

“It does.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.” Clarke snapped, her anxiety turning to anger. Humiliation. “Sort of looked like the two of you were comparing notes.”

Lexa stiffened behind her and Clarke felt some satisfaction at that.

“I know you don’t give a f*ck, hell I should’ve realised it when you barely acknowledged me on this trip; when you didn’t tell me that you loved me back in the City of Light. I should’ve known it when it was so easy for you to not hold me like I needed you to after spending a year apart.”

Because Clarke had asked Lexa about the City of Light. Lexa had said that she remembered those events like a dream after her memories had returned with The Flame. And Clarke wondered how much of Lexa it had been who had saved her and kissed her and had then run off with a smile on her face even though it had been established that it would be the last time Clarke would ever see her… It had been a significant moment shared between them, but apparently Clarke was the only one truly there, because the real Lexa had been off with Senna, vacationing at a lake, hadn’t she?

Clarke was done being understanding, because Lexa could’ve at least given her something to work with, to show that Clarke wasn’t waiting in vain for Lexa to keep on denying herself any sort of happiness. Knowing Lexa’s feelings and seeing Lexa so easily holding herself back when Clarke was on the verge of bursting with feelings, was just too much.

And just f*ck it. It was this thing with Niylah and it was everything. And Clarke couldn’t take it anymore.

“I thought I at least meant enough to you that you wouldn’t high five the people who’ve slept with me like you’re all in the same club or something.” Clarke inhaled a loud shuddering breath, her heart aching, even when she knew she was being completely unreasonable.

She’d honestly thought that Lexa would’ve given in by now. That Lexa would be as desperate to be together as Clarke was. Especially after what had happened when they were visiting the Delphi clan… Or had Clarke only seen what she wanted to? Had Lexa only entertained Clarke’s subtle advances in order to prevent a scene at a political meeting? And what was that on the hilltop? Napping in Lexa’s lap? She hadn’t made that up, right? Lexa had welcomed the attention…

Lexa could’ve at least shown a little bit of jealousy and or anger toward Niylah, or even Clarke.

Clarke was so distraught as the doubt and insecurities washed over her, that she didn’t at first register the arm snaking around her waist, hugging her abdomen and the other carefully resting between her breasts, long fingers gently laying against Clarke’s shoulder. Clarke only realised the hold when she was smoothly pulled back against a solid frame, as though she’d been strapped into a seatbelt.

Lexa quietly held her until the contact seemed to pacify Clarke and she subconsciously relaxed into the koala hug.

“I dreamt about you...” Lexa murmured, her chin lightly resting on Clarke’s shoulder as she continued to warmly embrace her, the horse slowly walking forward without anyone holding onto its reins, probably knowing the road to Ton DC by heart. “This past year, almost every night that I woke and remembered my dreams, you had been in them. I hadn’t known who you were the day Senna brought me to you. All I knew, was that I had dreamt about you more than anyone or anything else... I would wake up soaked in sweat, my entire body trembling with longing, and perhaps I found it difficult to recognize your face, but for the past year Klark, your eyes have haunted me.”

Clarke listened intently, her stomach fluttering. Those damn birds were back at it again.

Her emotions had been flip flopping all over the place since Lexa’s return. Two days ago, Clarke had thought that she was doing fine. She’d been proud of herself for being so patient. And all it took for her to snap, had been some unresolved guilt and that old, all too familiar feeling of not being good enough.

“I’m sorry, Klark.” Lexa remorsefully whispered. “I thought it would be best to wait until we were safely back in Polis before I,” Lexa paused, “before we,” she faltered again and Clarke took pity on her, wrapping her fingers around each of Lexa’s wrists in an attempt reciprocate the comforting embrace.

“No, you don’t have to apologise. I just went a little crazy there for a second…” Clarke quietly admitted. “I’m the one who’s sorry. You know I’m not very patient by nature…” She chuckled and then bit her lip when Lexa affectionately kissed her shoulder.

Clarke felt it burning right through her robes.

“We both know that there are no words needed between us.” Lexa rasped, holding Clarke tighter. “By now, all the clans know that my heart belongs to you.”

It was true. Clarke couldn’t really hide her feelings; she hadn’t actually bothered to, to be honest. And sometimes she would catch Lexa staring at her too. Sometimes Lexa would stare at Clarke across a crowded gathering without seeming to realise, or care, that there were other people present around them.

“If we had made vows to each other and Niylah had then taken you to bed, I would’ve had her head.” Lexa casually announced. So casually in fact that Clarke couldn’t help but snort out a chuckle.

“I owe Niylah a lot.” Clarke admitted. “For trading with me, for her loyalty to you and keeping my whereabouts from Azgeda, and for a brief distraction and some human connection during a time where I was really faltering about my place in this world...”

Lexa nodded. “For that I will always be grateful to her as well.”

Clarke sighed, because Lexa could be ruthless, but Lexa was also this.

“Solas is a problem.” Lexa murmured and Clarke felt herself grow angry again, because they had been talking about them for once, but she bit her tongue and listened, not wanting to sour the mood while they were stuck on the same horse.

Lexa had retaken the reins, but her warmth now seemed soothing more so than suffocating.

“We will know his intentions if he sends an ambassador to the Summit, instead of attending himself.”

Clarke nodded. Solas had done the most damage during Lexa’s absence. He’d been gearing up to take Polis. Even with the seeds of doubt Clarke had hopefully sown in Azgeda, spreading, Solas wasn’t going to back down. Especially not after Lexa had set out to purposely push him into making a mistake out of anger.

“So he’ll refuse to swear fealty and declare war instead.”

Lexa nodded. “Same as Nia had done, until I defeated her army and took her son as a prisoner of war. She had, in turn, banished Roan from Azgeda, claiming he’d been the reason they’d lost the war and in doing so, absolved herself from her people’s judgement.”

Clarke sighed. “So it won’t be over for a while still?”

“No. Solas will count on the fact that I won’t want to destroy Azgeda. That I will lead an army to battle that will match his own instead of one that will annihilate it.”

Clarke selfishly considered telling Lexa to just do that; to call on every single warrior in the armies of the twelve clans and run right through that fortress.

“It would make me no different than the Commanders before me.” Lexa answered the unspoken question. “My people wouldn’t respect me for such a win. They would celebrate it, yes. But they would wonder what makes me different from the Maunon who had used their missiles and those Skaikru who had murdered Peacekeepers in their sleep with their machine guns. And no different from Solas who had sought the same power I used against him... And when will I call on my armies to destroy them too?”

Clarke nodded. She remembered Lexa’s speech about the effects of fear on some people. Clarke had lived it. The Coalition’s army was there to intimidate and destroy. Called upon to demolish an enemy, not recruit prospective allies. And if Lexa were to become someone to be feared more than respected, someone else would use that to gather yet another army to oppose the Commander; just like the Trikru army had grown stronger over the past few decades, in opposition of Azgeda’s tyranny.

“Will you stay in Polis when I go to war?” Lexa tentatively asked. Requested.

Clarke froze. Dread filling her so fast she felt as though she was drowning in it.

Lexa was a warrior. Of course she was going to lead the assault on Azgeda. There was no doubt in Clarke’s mind that Lexa would be marching at the head of her army. She furiously worked her jaw, feeling completely torn. Why couldn’t Lexa just stay in Polis and send her generals to lead the onslaught? The leaders of the other clans wouldn’t be going to battle alongside their armies either.

“Solas will be attacking the Coalition. The generals of the Coalition should lead the assault, otherwise what’s the point of having them around?” Clarke husked and Lexa gave her a comforting squeeze as though she knew everything that went on in Clarke’s head.

“Solas wants to rule over the clans. He wants their resources for Azgeda. Everyone knows this. I stand in his way. If I don’t defend my Coalition and hide in Polis, I risk losing my allies, as it would be seen as a show of weakness. It was how I had lost them to Nia, and I had been too distracted to even notice their shift in allegiance…”

“Distracted?” Clarke grabbed onto that like a dog with a bone. Hungry for acknowledgement and to just take a bit of time and speak about the two of them instead of the Coalition.

Maybe there weren’t any words needed between them, but it would be really nice to hear Lexa saying them. Clarke was still Clarke and there would always be that fear that she was making up what she wanted to believe instead of what was real, when it came to the people she loved and cared about. Too many have disappointed and betrayed her in the past. People Clarke had thought she could trust. And because she trusted Lexa with her entire being, Clarke just needed to be reassured out loud that her heart was safe…

“Distracted by my longing.” Lexa gave Clarke what she needed with a tender smile that Clarke could hear in her voice.

“If I stay in Polis while you’re at war, won’t your longing distract you again?” Clarke murmured with a smile, noticing that they were only a few feet away from Octavia and Ryder again.

Lexa’s body was already saying everything Clarke needed to hear: overly intimate against Clarke’s back, somewhat possessive and protective, yet still radiating so much warmth and tenderness.

“I carry your heart with me, I carry it in my heart.” Lexa softly recited. “I am never without it… Anywhere I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling…” Clarke stiffened, followed swiftly by the body at her back.

“You don’t like poetry…” Lexa worriedly lamented.

Clarke wasn’t sure what she was feeling, that of all the poems in the world, Lexa had chosen that one. She wasn’t even surprised that Lexa could randomly inject prose into conversation and have it make all the sense in the world. The woman liked to read and she was sort of perfect. Clarke’s heart was doing strange things though - for additional reasons - and after the surprise wore off, Clarke decided that it was a decidedly lovely feeling she was left with.

“My dad had recited that poem as his wedding vows…” Clarke told Lexa.

“Oh.”

Clarke chuckled, having practically heard Lexa blinking at the statement and felt the awkwardness rolling off of the Commander in waves.

“He pursued mom for almost a year before she finally agreed to go out with him.”

Lexa hummed. “I understand now where your stubbornness comes from.”

Clarke laughed and lightly elbowed Lexa in the ribs. “You’re a fine one to talk about stubbornness.”

The Commander chuckled and Clarke was happy that the brief awkwardness was gone. God forbid Lexa stopped sharing her feelings after just having started to open up.

“His friends all told him to just leave it. That mom was way out of his league and way too intense.” Clarke laughed. “And even more than that, they had nothing in common...”

“He romanced her through poetry?” Lexa guessed.

“Oh no.” Clarke grinned. “No one knew that he secretly enjoyed all the great Earth poets of the twentieth century. Mom found him reading in the Ark’s library one day and, according to her, finally realised that he wasn’t just some big joker, out looking for a good time. And people were also wrong you see, because one of the few things they did have in common, was their secret love of poetry.”

“And that love skipped a generation?” Lexa smirked and Clarke jabbed her again, only causing Lexa’s body to brush against Clarke’s back and another light-hearted chuckle. Clarke would keep on hitting Lexa forever to hear that lightness in her tone. “Your art is like poetry...” Lexa finally murmured, settling against Clarke’s back as though they were used to being that close for so long. “I think you have inherited your artistic expression from them both…”

“I love that poem though…” Clarke smiled at Lexa’s words and the memories flooding her. “For what it says and what it means to my parents…” She confessed and relaxed back against Lexa’s chest while she listened to Lexa murmur the poem into her ear and wondered if she would ever be able to think of it as only her father’s and mother’s ever again.

Clarke greedily inhaled the moment. If she wanted to stretch it some more, she could pretend they were two normal young women in love, on a romantic horse ride through the beautiful Trikru Forest.

“Since childhood, I had been taught not to trust anyone; to always calculate every possible threat…” Lexa suddenly spoke into the comfortable silence that had settled between them.

Clarke had thought that maybe all the sharing had been too much for Lexa, so she’d given the Commander some quiet time with her thoughts. But it was like a dam had broken and Lexa was just all about telling Clarke things all of a sudden. Clarke felt only slightly guilty at her overreaction to the Niylah thing, but if it caused Lexa to step up instead of waiting for Clarke to make a move or for the ‘right’ and ‘safe’ and ‘perfect’ time: All the better.

“Needless to say, there hadn’t been many times where I had been at ease amongst my people. And yet on our journey throughout the clans, including those we had presumed enemies, I had felt a sense of security I had never experienced before.”

Not for the first time, Clarke wished that they were facing each other. She wanted to hear Lexa’s words whilst watching those expressive green eyes.

“It calmed me to know that if I missed the slightest detail, or didn’t catch the tiniest hint of deception, that I had you there to pick up on it... My vigilant and sage, Fleimkepa, always knowing what to look out for; watching whoever might be sneaking up at my back…” Lexa’s voice was soft and filled with tenderness and pride, and Clarke subconsciously sat straighter in the saddle, her chest expanding to accommodate her growing heart. “You have made me feel something that I never thought possible, Klark. You have made me feel safe.” Clarke’s eyes widened, not having expected that.

Clarke made Lexa feel safe. SAFE. Clarke hadn’t even realised she was doing it, or that she wanted that desired effect. But Clarke did. And Lexa did. And Clarke could just stupidly smile that her patience and paranoia had paid off in the best of ways.

“We have done all we could by talking to the clans.” Lexa murmured. “Now it’s time for the warriors to have their turn. I won’t deny that there isn’t anyone else I want more by my side during wartime than you, Klark. But I would be more at ease knowing that you are safe in Polis and taking care of our people.”

Clarke bit her lip. She was still stuck on the fact that Lexa trusted her and counted on her to… well, to be herself. That she was valued for her skills and needed. And wanted.

“I’ll make sure the place doesn’t fall apart during your absence.” Clarke rasped, with a widening grin and her eyes fluttered closed when those lips pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

“Just like you’d done before…” Lexa’s smile grew against Clarke’s jaw and Clarke just dreamily hummed in answer. “Before I leave to conquer Azgeda,” Lexa softly whispered against Clarke’s skin, “- and believe me, Klark, my victory will be swift and merciless as recompense for Solas taking me away from you - I will make sure to give you my body, to go along with my heart.” Clarke inhaled a sharp breath at the teeth scraping over her neck, subconsciously tilting her head to allow Lexa better access. “I will ensure that our people know my intentions toward you and will honour and protect you as such in my absence.” A tongue soothed over the teeth marks and Clarke bit her lip to stifle a whimper. “Our people honour you already though, Fleimkepa,” Lexa husked, continuing her meticulous assault on Clarke’s upper neck and jaw, one hand leaving the reins to caress over Clarke’s stomach. “Perhaps you would take me to your bed and make me yours...” Clarke finally released the soft whimper that had been stuck in her throat when Lexa’s thumbs skimmed the underside of her breasts. “…And mark me with your lips and your teeth, so that our people may see that I belong to you...” Lexa confidently cupped both of Clarke’s breasts and Clarke moaned out loud, her eyes hooded and her skin hot, as she watched their companions’ rigid backs as Ryder urged their horse further away again.

Clarke couldn’t care; Lexa was finally touching her.

“And all the warriors who love and obey the Fleimkepa, will protect me in battle.” Lexa smiled; her hands gently squeezing as she kissed up Clarke’s jaw, an inch or two away from her sensitive ear.

Desperately, Clarke twisted around as much as she could and crashed their lips together.

Lexa loudly groaned into Clarke’s mouth and hungrily kissed back. They remained fused together – urgently clinging to each other - until Clarke’s side cramped at the awkward position and she had to pull back and instantly got stuck in a blazing emerald gaze; Lexa’s fingers twisted into Clarke’s hair, keeping their faces close.

“Well,” Clarke lazily smirked, “that had escalated very quick-hmmf-” Lexa’s mouth smashed onto hers again and Clarke’s thighs clenched when a bolt of arousal violently struck her lower belly, moaning greedily into Lexa’s eager mouth. And god help her, Clarke was so turned on and so f*cking happy, that she would’ve thrown them off the horse and taken Lexa on the ground, if that didn’t mean releasing those luscious lips again.

But then Lexa pulled back and Clarke took a moment to gulp down some oxygen, and work the kink out of her side. So it took her lust-clouded brain a while to realise that Lexa hadn’t only broken the kiss; she was no longer on the horse either.

Clarke looked back to find the Commander standing in the path, arm across her stomach, staring angrily at the ground.

“Everything okay back there!?” Octavia called out, after Clarke had taken hold of the reins to stop the horse from walking off without Lexa.

“Yeah, we just need to stretch our legs for a bit!” Clarke replied, her eyes not leaving Lexa, who had started pacing up and down the width of the narrow path.

“Us too!” Octavia yelled back. “Ryder and I are gonna run the perimeter, so stay in this spot and we’ll come find you in about half an hour?”

Clarke finally tore her gaze from Lexa, looking to where Octavia was standing already dismounted, worriedly watching the Commander too. Ryder, of course, had his back respectfully turned to all the drama.

Neither Clarke or Octavia had a working watch, they just tended to speak like that out of habit. So Octavia was basically just saying ‘we’ll make ourselves scarce and keep you two idiots safe while you sort your sh*t out, but we can’t give you too much time, because this forest is dangerous’.

“That’ll be great!” Clarke shouted back. “Thanks, O; stay safe!”

Octavia smirked and gave Clarke a two-fingered salute. “Sha, Fleimkepa!”

After watching their guards tie their horse and walk off into the woods, Clarke dismounted onto legs still shaky with arousal and carefully approached Lexa.

“This is what happens when people over-compartmentalize.” Clarke softly smiled and Lexa stopped her pacing to stare at her. “What’s the problem, Leksa?” She gently urged.

Lexa seemed to gather herself and then the Heda stared back at Clarke, which the blonde really didn’t appreciate. Clarke didn’t want Lexa to feel the need to hide herself underneath that mask of flawless perfection and strength. Clarke just wanted Lexa to be Leksa when they were alone together. But that would take time, so Clarke permitted Lexa her most effective defence mechanism for the time-being.

“I apologise, Klark.” Lexa’s jaw clenched with tension. “I shouldn’t have…”

“So you regret kissing me?” Clarke purposely probed.

“No!” Lexa quickly corrected and Clarke smirked; she was proud of herself for how quickly she’d learned Lexa with the little bit she’d been given. “I shouldn’t have mauled you like a – like a Pauna.” Lexa explained, looking entirely perturbed.

Clarke laughed.

“In case it wasn’t obvious: I’m a very willing victim.”

The Heda mask briefly dropped and Lexa’s lips parted as her eyes zeroed in on Clarke’s mouth, before she shook her head and looked away, completely flustered.

“This is what happens when you deny yourself the things you want.” Clarke gently hammered her point, stepping closer.

“I understand that.” Lexa stiffly answered, spine already rigid again as her eyes travelled the forest around them.

At first Clarke had thought she was avoiding eye contact, but Clarke recognized that Lexa was just checking to make sure that they remained safe.

“Things had been going well a few minutes ago…” Clarke questioned with a confused tilt of her head. “You were reciting poetry and we were speaking about the future… Were we moving too fast? I didn’t mean to push…” Clarke worried that she’d just selfishly forced Lexa into saying and doing things she might not have been ready for, because she’d had a bout of insecurity. Maybe Lexa was also a bit more jealous of the Niylah thing than she allowed herself to show, hence the need to ‘maul’ Clarke like a ‘Pauna’.

Lexa instantly shook her head no.

“I wish we could move faster.” She bashfully confessed and Clarke relaxed.

Lexa had gotten off the horse to cool off, not to push Clarke away emotionally.

“What do you need me to do, Leksa?” Clarke asked, because whatever Lexa needed, she would do it.

Green eyes locked onto Clarke, a frown creasing her brow.

“What about what you need, Klark?” Lexa countered, a bit of the frustration in her eyes, seeping into her tone. “Are you happy just moving at the pace I determine? It’s not fair to expect that from you.”

“Yes, I am happy doing that.” Clarke honestly replied. “And you’re not expecting it. I’m offering it.”

“It shouldn’t be like that.”

“No, it shouldn’t.” Clarke agreed. “But I get it, okay? We still have the Summit and then there’s going to be a war. And you’re just prioritising what’s more important at the moment, and when things settle, we can finally have a look at us.”

“No.”

“No?” Clarke’s chest ached.

“You are important.”

“I know, Leksa.” Clarke sighed in relief, hoping Lexa didn’t grow tired of her constant need for reassurance and affirmation. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Isn’t it?” Lexa sagely searched Clarke’s face, and okay, maybe Lexa had learned Clarke too. “You are the most important to me.”

Clarke was struck speechless, not sure how to react or what to say because she hadn’t expected such a deliberate declaration.

“And that is why I have needed to abstain, Klark. Not because there are more important things to attend to. But because I know that giving in to my wants, will cause me to neglect my duty.”

“I don’t understand why you can’t do both… Am I honestly that distracting?” Clare chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood.

Lexa didn’t even smile.

Instead, she looked away, and Clarke knew that this time it was because she was hiding something from Clarke, and not just being vigilant. Clarke stood searching Lexa’s face for a long time while her mind attempted to figure out the root of what was going on.

“What are you afraid of?” Clarke asked.

Lexa’s eyes met hers again, but she didn’t answer.

“I won’t leave again.” Clarke rasped. She’d assumed that Lexa had realised this already, but maybe Lexa didn’t know. “Polis is my home now, whether I live there as Fleimkepa or as something more to you, I won’t be leaving. Maybe I hadn’t been born on the Ground, but these tattoos on my head mean something to me. I might not be a very conventional Fleimkepa, but I’ve learned all I could this past year, and I’m still learning. I take my vow very seriously, Leksa. So whatever happens between us, I will still continue to be Fleimkepa and the Fleimkepa’s home is in Polis.”

“I know, Klark.” Lexa whispered.

“Then what’s going on? I was fine with the pace we were going at. We didn’t have much time to get to know each other before you died.” Clarke physically winced. “Before your accident,” she corrected, “and I’ve been enjoying this trip no matter how tense things got, because we were doing it together…” Clarke looked at those eyes that had shifted away from her again. “What had changed from going to kill Solas and then coming back to me, a few minutes ago, to now freaking out in the middle of the forest?”

“I’m not freaking out.” And Clarke almost smiled at how cute and foreign the words sounded from Lexa’s mouth. “And I apologise for being a… Dramaqueen.” She seriously added and Clarke couldn’t hold back the smile that time.

“You’re allowed to be affected by our relationship, Leksa. It’s a whole lot better than acting as though you’re not fazed by it…”

“You make me feel reckless.” Lexa confessed in a frustrated huff. “You make me say and promise things I mean, but have little control over whether I will be able to deliver.”

Clarke frowned, needing some elaboration.

“I can’t promise you that I will return from this war.”

Clarke’s stomach twisted painfully and Lexa’s eyes shone with apology for having stated the obvious so bluntly.

“Do you see? You make anything seem possible. You make me feel invincible. Like I can do anything and give you everything… But we both know that life is harsh and unfair, and I worry about failing my people, but what I wouldn’t be able to live with, Klark, is failing you. Not again.”

“I’m not going to be mad at you if something happens that you had no control over...” Clarke tremulously murmured.

“I had wanted to wait.” Lexa’s jaw clenched. “Till we were back in Polis. But I should’ve planned on waiting until I came back from war: victorious and able to offer you everything you deserve in this world.”

Clarke was admittedly starting to feel overwhelmed again. This wasn’t a conversation she’d expected to have with Lexa just yet. Well, it was clearly one that Lexa hadn’t been ready to have, either. But Clarke had pushed for answers and now they were making things way more intense than they needed to be. But at least they were talking instead of avoiding the issue. It was a step in the right direction and only added to Clarke’s growing hope that one day they would be together without any confusion and doubt between them.

“Okay, your right.” Clarke conceded. “It would’ve been less terrifying speaking about these things after the war. But we’re speaking about them now, which is good, because I think that you and I both know how short life is.” She swallowed thickly, pushing back the memories of furs stained black with blood. “And if you’d pushed me onto the floor and had your way with me right there in the Throne Room the instant you got your memories back, it wouldn’t have changed anything. I loved you then and I love you now. I’m going to be scared out of mind when you go to war. Us kissing or doing anything more than that, doesn’t change that fact. My feelings for you have only grown these last few weeks and we’ve become closer too. Us being physically intimate would strengthen that connection, but I’m already too far gone, Leksa. I can wait to be intimate for however long you need me to, because it’s not the most important thing. You speaking to me like this, that’s what I need.” Clarke gently smiled. “So you have to make a decision on whether you want to fully enjoy the little time we have together before the war, or whether you’re going to keep on denying yourself something that seems to be causing a lot more tension between us than it ought to.”

Lexa looked a bit stunned for a moment and then frowned as she stared off at nothing, seemingly processing what Clarke had just said.

“I’m such a fool...” Lexa eventually murmured and Clarke laughed, stepping closer and circling her arms around Lexa’s neck.

“You just overthink things.”

“I have to. And it works.” Lexa answered, circling her arms around Clarke’s waist.

“Maybe when running a Coalition, but not when you’re in a relationship.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be.” Clarke gave her a nostalgic smile, wondering if Lexa even knew how much those two words had meant to Clarke on that day.

Lexa smiled and pulled Clarke against her. Clarke going willingly and enjoying the feel of the tension leaving Lexa’s body, before the brunette stiffened again.

“No.” Clarke lightly warned, holding her a little tighter. “Stop thinking about us. Think about the war; think about the Coalition; by all means, think about how you’re going to kick Solas’s ass… But when it comes to us, Leksa, you don’t need to think and strategize. We’re just going to go on as we have been. We’ll kiss each other when we want to, and when we feel like it, we’re going to do a lot more than that.”

Clarke’s eyes fluttered when Lexa’s body, seemingly subconsciously, arched into her at the words and Clarke pressed a reassuring kiss to Lexa’s neck.

“We don’t need words between us.” Clarke softly quoted Lexa. “And we don’t need a schedule and a time frame for us to become more physically intimate. We’re just going to let it happen, okay?”

“Okay, Klark.” Lexa murmured with a smile, gently stroking Clarke’s hair and back.

They lightly swayed, just holding onto each other, until Lexa heard Riley and Octavia approaching, and finally let go of Clarke again, looking the most relaxed and content Clarke had ever seen her

The rest of their journey was spent in silence, Clarke wondering if Lexa could sense how ready Clarke still was. The trotting horse didn’t help at all and Lexa’s body was lightly tensed where it was pressed intimately against Clarke’s back, suggesting that maybe Lexa wasn’t as unaffected by their proximity as she was pretending to be…

But they were thankfully nearing Ton DC; Clarke recognized the path through the forest.

Feeling considerably better than she had in a long time, Clarke allowed herself to be happy in that moment. To enjoy the celebrations of the Trikru who welcomed home their Heda. She uselessly fought back a watery smile at the awkward way Lexa and Indra embraced each other, grinning widely when Indra caught her sentimental stare and reciprocated with a half-hearted glare.

Their arrival in Ton DC was different than to the other clans. Their delegation was already there and waiting for one, having reported ‘bandits’ ambushing them on their journey, only to run off again for no apparent reason – most likely having noticed Lexa’s absence. Then there was the Antler Throne Indra had brought from Polis, as much a symbol of the Trikru as the crest on their banners. The village was also filled with a lot more people, who had travelled in from other parts of the Trikru territory to meet with their Heda.

But the most important difference by far, was Lexa.

The Heda smiled openly as she moved through the crowds, happily speaking to old friends and allies, keeping hold of Clarke’s hand the entire time, who thankfully recognized most of the people Lexa knew. Lexa didn’t let go of her until they reached the dais and Clarke was the one who gave Lexa’s hand an encouraging squeeze, before letting go.

Watching Lexa step onto the small podium, squaring her shoulders and straightening her spine, Clarke could see that this was the moment where Lexa finally saw how much she had been missed. They say you never know what you had until you lost it, and Lexa’s people, who had fought against the change she wanted to bring, had all regretted that this past year. And now they were finally showing Lexa their appreciation.

Clarke got down on her knees along with the entire Ton DC when Lexa took her seat; green eyes glittering brilliantly with joyous emotion.

They spent two days in Ton DC. Two blissful days, despite the fact that Lexa and Indra were already prepping for their invasion of Azgeda by sending more warriors to patrol the border separating the two rival clans. But Lexa made time for Clarke though, and early the morning following their arrival, Lexa took only Octavia and Ryder to show Clarke the village she had grown up in.

It was called Blumefaya - Fire Flower - because the first Chief who settled there with his family had been an archer who specialised in fire tipped arrows. Jonah kom Trikru had later won his Conclave to become the eleventh Commander after Bekka Pramheda. Or so Lexa had told Clarke on their journey there.

It was sad that Lexa didn’t have any family left; the world they lived in was harsh after all and Ephraim making it to eighty was a miracle really. But one wouldn’t say it when Lexa entered Blumefaya; the people greeting her as though she were a long lost cousin. Lexa wasn’t even wearing her armour, her sword remained strapped to her horse, and Clarke was mildly comforted by the dagger still at her thigh.

Lexa gave and accepted hugs and robust pats on the back, and after they noticed Clarke’s hand tightly clasped in Lexa’s, she was treated to the same affection. Lexa was sister and daughter to all of the people in her village and Clarke had no doubt that one day they would be telling the story of Heda Leksa kom Trikru, with her dual blades and daggers, who had brought peace to the lands, with the same pride and veneration as Lexa had told Clarke about Jonah, who had been the last Trikru Commander, until Lexa had won her Conclave.

Clarke sat idly on a wooden bench as she intently watched the soccer game taking place in front of her. No not really, Clarke didn’t care about the game. She was instead watching Lexa, surrounded by twenty children, kicking a heavy leather ball up and down a dusty field; sweating and laughing and Clarke wasn’t used to feeling so many good feelings, especially all at the same time. It was weird and Clarke kept on trying and failing to stop herself, because when would it be taken away again?

She barely acknowledged Octavia taking the seat next to her, who had substituted herself out of the game when she noticed a young boy looking as though he would burst at the seams with want to join in.

Octavia had a few friends she played with on a team in Polis. Clarke wondered if the guy Octavia was interested in played on her team too. She’d noticed her friend pining during their journey, so had then ruled out Riley and Ryder as possibilities.

Clarke hadn’t pushed for information, wanting to give Octavia some time to get used to the idea and what she wanted. The two of them worked as friends, because they didn’t push and they were there when the other needed her. Clarke considered at least opening the line of conversation to see whether Octavia wanted to talk, but then Lexa dramatically allowed the tiniest girl ever to kick the ball past her to score a goal, and Clarke forgot that Octavia existed.

“You really need to wipe that drool off of your face, before you drown some of these kids.” Octavia casually advised and took a sip of water.

“I want to have her babies.” Clarke grinned and stuck out her tongue at her friend. Who laughed and looked back to field.

“Looks like you guys plan on repopulating the Earth then.” Octavia smirked.

Clarke followed her gaze to see Lexa staring intently at Clarke with eyes so dark they were visible from even that distance, before a boy took her hand to get the Heda’s head back in the game.

Octavia just laughed when Clarke bit her lip and shuddered.

The village Chief welcomed them into his home and had them bathed and fed before seeing them off again. The journey back to Ton DC took about thirty minutes on horseback, but it was well into the evening when they returned.

They made a quick stop at Indra’s, before retiring to their tents, only for Clarke to stop and frown when she found hers missing from where she was sure she’d left it that morning. With a curious lift of her brow, she turned to her roommate.

“There was this freak wind…” Octavia earnestly explained under Lexa’s watchful gaze. “It just blew the tent away.” She casually shrugged.

“Blew it away…” Clarke incredulously stared at her.

Even if she believed the absurd cause, Octavia had been with them the entire day and couldn’t have possibly known about any ‘freak’ winds.

“Yep. I’m gonna be bunking at Indra’s. I’m sure someone,” she sent a meaningful look at Lexa, “will take you in.” Octavia smirked, spun around and hurried off.

“She’s not very subtle is she?” Lexa smiled after her.

Clarke just laughed and shook her head, biting her lip when Lexa took her hand and lead her to the Heda’s tent.

They undressed in separate corners, Clarke with her back to Lexa as she removed her neckpiece and then slipped out of her robes. After pulling on a simple white shift, she looked over her shoulder and found the Heda intently studying her maps at the war table, already dressed the same, and with long, tanned legs visible from the thigh high apparel.

Clarke was disappointed that Lexa wasn’t looking, but not surprised in the least.

She went over to the furs on the opposite side of the large tent and slipped inside, not realising how tired she was until the warm softness had her yawning as she melted into it. She watched Lexa nervously approaching, blowing out a few candles on her way, until Clarke could just barely make out the tips of Lexa’s ears, that tell-tale red, and smiled tenderly when the Heda settled in beside her.

They laid on their backs for a few long moments before Clarke extended an arm toward Lexa and the brunette instantly turned and curled herself into Clarke’s side, resting her head on Clarke’s shoulder.

Clarke couldn’t imagine how tired Lexa must’ve been.

Throughout the day, the Commander hadn’t had a moment when someone wasn’t begging for her attention. So Clarke just wrapped Lexa in her arms, smiling when Lexa groaned in comfort, giving her waist and affectionate squeeze.

“Reshop, Leksa.” Clarke sleepily murmured and placed a loving kiss to the top of Lexa’s head.

“Goodnight, Klark.” Lexa breathed out and almost instantly fell into a peaceful sleep.

Chapter 13

Chapter Text

Clarke hadn’t realised just how worried she’d been until she let out a breath of relief upon seeing Polis still standing on her return.

When she’d first become Fleimkepa, Clarke had some concerns about how structurally sound the Heda’s Tower was. Well, she’d had those concerns the second she’d seen it, but had had bigger worries at the time. Clarke couldn’t help but remember her Earth History classes and the one lesson where they’d been shown a picture of the Leaning Tower of Pisa…

On one of his visits though, Kane had brought a civil engineer named Thomas with him and he’d said that the building had been constructed before the bombs and with steel beams as reinforcements that would last another couple of centuries.

Clarke wasn’t sure whether she should trust someone who grew up in space about the structural integrity of buildings on to the Ground, but she guessed that she didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. And the longer she lived there, the more secure Clarke had started to feel.

Now Polis was home.

Clarke grinned widely when a loud shrieking ‘Kloook!’ echoed through the hallway on the twenty-eighth floor where Mikah, Milah and more recently, Luna, resided. It was the highest, most toddler-friendly floor in the Tower. Meaning that it still had all of its walls and the balconies had working doors that could be closed, locked or blocked.

Soon a head of chestnut curls was brushing Clarke’s cheek and tiny arms circled her neck in a tight hug. Milah managed to stay calm for all of three seconds and then another loud squeal of ‘Leks!’ pierced Clarke’s ear before she handed the toddler off again, laughing with Lexa when a scream of ‘O!’ followed soon thereafter.

The girl was beside herself with excitement and it didn’t help that they’d brought her some presents too. Clarke smiled at Mikah and greeted him with a hug he nervously returned. And after asking whether it was okay to hand the gifts over, Milah, Octavia and Luna opened presents, while Lexa took Mikah aside. Clarke wasn’t sure what they spoke about, only that the man seemed a lot more relaxed around the Heda thereafter.

Good.

They were all in this thing together.

The Summit was four days away and preparations for the event were taking up most of Clarke and Lexa’s time. Gifts continued to arrive from the clans and soon the Heda’s stables were filled to capacity, along with the Tower’s armoury and pantry. Not to mention all the beautiful flowers from Osias that decorated many of the rooms in the Tower.

Clarke called it an event and not a meeting, because that was exactly what it was. It wouldn’t be the same as on Lexa’s Ascension Day. Her second one. People had been doubtful then, and had only sent ambassadors to attend, primarily the ones lowest on the totem pole. This time though, they expected the clan leaders to show up with their ambassadors and advisors. Those who had known the Commander for longer, would most likely bring their families too.

Getting the large Tower guest-ready, was a monumental undertaking. Lexa was – as Clarke had learned – a very particular person and it didn’t matter to the Commander that they would only be using about a tenth of the actual Tower. Everything needed to be perfect. And slowly but surely, they were turning Polis into a little Paradise for the leaders of the Thirteen Clans.

Still, they made time to relax, which involved hanging out in the Throne Room.

Clarke stood watching as in one corner, Riley, Ryder and Octavia, were teaching Mikah some new fighting techniques and on the throne sat Lexa, with Milah on her lap and Luna lazily reclining on the floor next to them. Lexa was telling Milah stories she didn’t understand yet, making Clarke smile, because she knew that they were actually for Luna’s benefit, who wouldn’t ever ask for information on the history behind her blood, even when she was clearly very interested in learning more about her heritage.

Luna and Lexa had a strange relationship. Clarke wasn’t sure what to call it yet. Given the altercation on the Heda’s Floor, when Lexa had still been without her memories, Clarke hadn’t expected the easy way they had fallen into each other’s company. Clarke guessed that it was the black blood and all the pressure and expectation that came along with it, that bonded them for life. Luna could finally see that Lexa understood why she’d left their Conclave and without a need for Luna to feel defensive about that, the two Nightblood women had been building a strong bond that would most likely turn into a solid friendship soon.

“Jeez, they look like the poster family for the most attractive Natblidas ever.” A sweaty and breathless Octavia remarked when she came to stand next to Clarke.

And, god, they were beautiful together…

Clarke watched Luna pretend to take a bite out of Milah’s foot, the little girl frantically squirming away and collapsing in a fit of giggles that had Lexa smiling widely at Luna. Scowling darkly, Clarke walked forward, scooped Milah up into her arms and then plopped them both down onto Lexa’s lap.

Lexa didn’t seem to mind the abrupt invasion, judging by the smile she directed at Clarke. Milah too, loved the extra attention. Luna though, let out a loud, derisive, snort and excused herself to join the others. Clarke didn’t dare look in Octavia’s direction when what she’d just done finally registered in her brain.

Clarke really needed to get laid, and soon.

One by one the delegations started to arrive in Polis. Indra was first, and she and Lexa were locked in the war room long before and after everyone else had left it. It wasn’t all fun and excitement for what was sure to be a big celebration. Everyone knew that Solas wouldn’t bow to the Commander and they needed to prepare for an unavoidable war. This became evident when the new leader of the Plainriders – and really, he was even bigger than the last one – showed up and immediately went to join in the discussions.

They were planning a war and a party; needless to say, it was exhausting. Clarke would be asleep in the Heda’s bed when Lexa finally made it there and Clarke would barely wake up and just pull Lexa into her arms before her eyes would flutter closed again, and Lexa would kiss whichever part of Clarke was in reach with a sleepily murmured goodnight.

Having elected not to attend the war room discussions herself, Clarke instead directed her focus toward the various visiting delegations and would share whatever information she learned with Lexa when she went to retrieve the Commander and forced her to take a break and eat something. Lexa then took that time to tell Clarke what was happening inside the war room. Apparently they were in there finalizing the trade negotiations between the clans as well and at that point, the Summit was merely a formality, as they were relatively certain as to how the meeting would go.

They hardly saw each other and though there wasn’t time for more, they did make out every second they got the chance.

It was the day before the Summit that Lexa and Clarke coincidentally found themselves on the library floor at the same time and for very different reasons that ceased to matter once their eyes locked. By some unspoken agreement, they instantly flew at each other in a clash of teeth and tongue, and Lexa hurriedly moved them into a nearby antechamber, because poor Riley and Ryder hadn’t been sure what to do with themselves when the Heda and the Fleimkepa had collided with matching lustful groans.

Lexa pushed Clarke up against the wall the instant the door closed behind them and Clarke let out a lewd moan when her robes were hiked up to her thighs and Lexa’s hands replaced them to lift her up and wrap Clarke’s legs around her waist.

It was almost savage the way they lost control over themselves. Clarke was sure her hand fisting into Lexa’s hair must’ve hurt, but Lexa just groaned into Clarke’s mouth, before she grazed her teeth over Clarke’s bottomlip, then her chin, her jaw and her neck… And then deftly unclasped Clarke’s neckpiece, throwing it over her shoulder.

Clarke had pictured – on numerous occasions - that their first time after such a long time, would be soft and tender and slow, but she really couldn’t care anymore. She’d waited long enough and softly cried out her encouragement when Lexa’s eager fingers brushed over her damp underwear, and Lexa’s teeth scraped over her clavicle.

Dizzy with anticipation and want, pressing Lexa’s face further into her neck, Clarke would later be surprised that she’d even noticed the movement on the other side of the room. She thought maybe it was her paranoia that had her thinking ‘assassin’ at every odd occurrence and it had her hooded eyes fluttering open and glancing to the corner of the room where she spotted Luna and Octavia.

The fact that they weren’t gaping or smirking at them and instead hurriedly pulling on their clothes, was enough of a surprise to somewhat wake Clarke from her licentious haze, at least enough to get Lexa’s attention. Clarke was momentarily distracted though, when Lexa confusedly stared up at her with dark hooded eyes and kiss swollen lips, looking so sexy that Clarke just had to kiss her again, whimpering her disappointment against Lexa’s mouth before she reluctantly pulled away and directed Lexa’s attention to the room’s other two occupants, who were sheepishly slinking toward the door.

Upon noticing that they were being noticed, the two instantly stopped and straightened in defiance.

“There are four hundred and seventy-two rooms in this tower.” Lexa irritably growled, whilst gently lowering Clarke to the floor and managed to look intimidating, even with her hair a mess and her clothes in desperate need of adjustment.

“Fine. We’ll go.” Octavia muttered. “Even though we were here first.” Luna rolled her eyes at that, but couldn’t help a fond smile. “Not like you guys don’t have rooms of your own – actually an entire floor - or anything…”

“You have rooms of your own.” Clarke deadpanned; knowing that since Lexa was the only Grounder she knew who could read, the Library Floor was almost always abandoned and whoever went there, wasn’t there for the books. Clearly. “And people know where to find us if we go to ours.” She ended up scowling, even as her mind processed that Luna had been Octavia’s love interest all this time.

Clarke was somewhat comforted that is was Luna, who had known and cared about Lincoln and had suffered a similar loss to Octavia’s. It meant that they would be gentle with each other and shared a level of understanding that few others could. Clarke soon found herself grinning happily at Octavia, who rolled her eyes, but blushed and shyly looked away from Clarke’s knowing and enthusiastic grin.

Lexa sighed, picked up Clarke’s neckpiece and then patiently proceeded to place it back around Clarke’s neck, tenderly smoothing out the fabric and brushing her fingers through Clarke’s hair, seeming to forget about their friends entirely, until there was a timid knock on the door.

Frowning, Octavia - ever the vigilant guard - moved toward it, to find an apologetic looking Ryder.

“Apologies, Heda. But the Skaikru delegation has arrived.”

The poor guy really did look sorry and not the least bit surprised to find Octavia and Luna there too. Lexa gave Clarke a lopsided smile with apologetic eyes and since Ryder had already turned his back to the door, the loving kiss that followed, was only noticed by Octavia, because Luna at least had the decency not to stare.

Clarke was already planning a night where she and Octavia could spend some alone time together to discuss this latest development.

“I think this is proof that your people truly hate me, Klark…” Lexa pouted, as they made their way to the elevators.

Kane had brought Abby, and Clarke was slightly less peeved at their unfortunate timing. And when Lexa and Kane disappeared into the war room, Clarke wasted no time in showing her mother all they’d done. They spent the afternoon with the rest of the delegations, Clarke realising that keeping them all bonded would only strengthen the Coalition. And she also needed to mediate whatever bonding took place, because the Grounders were a sensitive bunch, especially when it came to my clan versus your clan dynamics. Many of them had also been enemies up until a couple of weeks ago…

Abigail Griffin was excellent at diplomacy and staying coolheaded in awkward and stressful situations. Abby and Kane had also learned Trigedasleng from Indra and that went a long way in mollifying the other clans that Skaikru was trying. So Clarke was extra grateful to have Abby there, because it allowed Clarke to go and finish her other tasks, while her mother kept an eye on things for her.

She joined Abby again later when she met with Lexa to discuss the details of Arkadia’s new role in the Coalition, as Lexa was excited to announce it at the meeting the next day, as well as the no-guns policy Skaikru had adopted. Indra and Kane were already working on fighting and hunting programs to train the Skaikru in Trikru survival tactics, so that they could be weaned off of their guns as soon as possible.

At dinner that evening, when Lexa sat at the head of a table containing twelve clan leaders - Clarke on her right and Indra on her left - it became clear to everyone that they had built a very strong alliance and who wouldn’t be in it. The Sangedakru leader had shown up just before sunset, but Azgeda had yet to arrive, and it surprised absolutely no one.

Regardless, everyone was in high spirits. They had the advantage over the Ice Nation. Solas would be defeated and there would be peace again. Comforted and confident, Lexa and Clarke slipped away early and if anyone noticed, they were kind enough to let them.

Clarke made it to bed first – Lexa had an extensive beauty routine that Clarke very much appreciated the end result of so wouldn’t dare interrupt it – and was treated to the Commander in her nightgown with The Slip that had had Clarke’s brain short-circuiting the first time she’d been blessed by it.

Clarke was only in a simple, white, shift, not having thought further than putting something on that she could easily take off again, and Lexa had barely laid down beside her, when Clarke rolled on top of the Commander’s lithe body, and kissed her.

It was less frantic and desperate than that afternoon, yet Clarke still soon found herself without her shift and only wearing her underwear.

Topless, she sat up, straddling the Heda’s hips.

Lexa stared at Clarke like Clarke had stared at Lexa in that field of flowers: as though Clarke was a work of art.

Reverently, and at a much slower pace than they’d been going before, Lexa reached out both hands and gently cupped Clarke’s breasts. Clarke bit her lip, her panties already soaked, as she covered Lexa’s hands with her own and squeezed in silent encouragement.

“I swear fealty to your breasts…” Lexa mindlessly mumbled.

It didn’t register at first, but when it did, Clarke let out a bark of laughter that tapered off into an emphatic moan, when Lexa’s warm mouth covered a straining nipple, lightly sucking, and her hands tenderly explored Clarke’s torso. God, the way Lexa’s mouth and hands worshipped her, made the words seem a lot more serious than Clarke had initially thought them to be...

Aching with need, Clarke took hold of the dress that she’d wrestled up to Lexa’s waist and pulled it off in one movement, aided by a distracted Lexa, who instantly pushed her face back to Clarke’s chest when she was freed of her nightgown. Her hands moved to stroke over Clarke’s back, briefly moving her lips up over Clarke’s collarbones and to her neck, in order to press their naked skin together, releasing a contented sigh, before lowering an eager mouth right back to Clarke’s chest.

Clarke felt delightfully lightheaded as she let her fingers trail over Lexa’s spine, closing her eyes as she pictured the tattoo she vividly remembered being there and enjoyed Lexa’s warm lips and tongue on her breasts. But once Lexa came up for air, Clarke took the opportunity to push the Heda down onto her back, fusing their mouths together before Lexa’s head had even hit the pillow.

Clarke eagerly kissed her way down Lexa’s neck; toward breasts she would also have sworn fealty to, had she not already done so in awe of Lexa’s entire body. Her hands caressed over Lexa’s toned abdomen, travelling up to join Clarke’s mouth, but Clarke halted, her blood freezing over in her veins, when her fingers brushed over the smooth ridges she found below Lexa’s right breast...

Lexa remained still, as motionless as Clarke had become, watching as the blonde pulled back and stared down at the scar left behind from where Lexa had been shot.

Lexa had many scars. The Grounders prided themselves in them. They wore them like badges of honour. Clarke thought that Lexa might too. But Clarke wasn’t a warrior and the scar wasn’t her own, it was Lexa’s…

Silently, she traced her fingers over the thickness of the healed wound. Clarke didn’t have to ask to know that Lexa had suffered long and hard through a vicious infection for it to have healed that way.

Ai gonplei ste odon.

Lexa’s choked out words from that day hit Clarke like a punch to the gut, knocking the air from her lungs, and waking Clarke from her daze with a pained wheeze that sent her instantly spiralling in remembrance. Her eyes rapidly moved over the scarring, but she didn’t see healed skin; all Clarke saw was black blood that wouldn’t stop flowing, no matter what she did.

She’d applied pressure to the injury just like her mother had taught her to do…

Clarke’s eyes shot full of tears, blurring her vision and she couldn’t erase the memory from her mind. Instinctually, Clarke pressed her hands over the wound to stop the blood she was hallucinating. And Clarke knew that she was. Clarke was very much aware that the blood wasn’t really there, and still it was all she could see.

Lexa wrapped her arms around Clarke and pulled her down to her chest and Clarke blindly went with the motion, arms stiff and awkwardly pressed between them.

“I’m here…” Lexa whispered, cradling Clarke’s head to her heart as the blonde’s body shook with silent sobs. “I’m here, Klark.”

“I should’ve saved you…” Clarke mourned as she lifted her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I should’ve tried to remove the bullet, but the bleeding wouldn’t stop, Leksa…” Her throat ached as she pleaded for understanding.

For forgiveness.

“I didn’t die.” Lexa sadly reminded.

“I should’ve tried harder…” Clarke thickly and stubbornly countered. “I shouldn’t have let him take you away from me!”

And god, the guilt was still there. Still so raw.

Lexa smoothly shifted them, till Clarke laid only mostly on top of her, and pressed Clarke’s head back to her heart. She remained silent while she soothingly stroked Clarke’s hair and back, while the blonde softly sniffled and hiccupped, trying to calm down. Because why couldn’t she just be happy with Lexa? Why was she ruining this perfect moment?

Nothing Lexa could say would change how Clarke felt about that day. And neither of them could change the past. Clarke was just going to have to forgive herself, because she knew that Lexa didn’t blame her. Lexa didn’t know that Clarke had saved Jasper and Finn and all Clarke had obsessed over the past year, was how she’d failed to save Lexa. She’d barely even tried. She’d been paralyzed with fear and grief when Lexa had started saying her goodbyes…

Slowly and deliberately, Lexa took hold of Clarke’s hand and placed it over Clarke’s chest, gently making Clarke squeeze her own breast.

Even through her sorrow, Clarke burst out a husky chuckle at the unexpected gesture, not for a second believing that Lexa was still in the mood to have sex after that royal freak out. Or even if she had been, Lexa wouldn’t be attempting it with the state Clarke was in.

“I find them very comforting, Klark.” Lexa earnestly murmured. “I thought you might too.”

Clarke shook her head, softly laughing as she wrapped and arm around Lexa, shifting so that Lexa still had access to her breast. For comfort. For them both.

“They would bring peace to the clans if I wouldn’t gouge out every eye that dared look at them...” Lexa continued on and really, it f*cking worked, because Clarke laughed again and nuzzled her face into Lexa’s neck, melting into the strong arms that protectively cradled her against warm, silky, skin.

I love you, I love you, I love you... Clarke repeated in her head until she fell asleep.

The day of the Summit was finally upon them and Clarke had woken in a loving embrace, received a plethora of tender kisses and felt like a complete and utter idiot. Lexa didn’t mention the previous night, maybe it was something that had been long overdue. Clarke had been pretending that everything was fine, that she was strong and supportive, but what she’d really needed to do was just let Lexa know what had been slowly eating away at her.

And Clarke did feel a lot better as they’d stayed in bed longer than they usually did, Clarke taking the time to gently run her fingers over Lexa’s scar; familiarizing herself with it.

In the clear light of day, she could admit that it had caught her off guard the evening before. But that morning, Lexa let Clarke touch the scar until eventually Clarke could place gentle kisses across the bumpy tissue, causing Lexa to squirm underneath her. The Heda was less forgiving of that, because they needed to get up and Clarke was making it extremely difficult.

Clarke repaid her patience by freshening up quickly, instructing Lexa to take a long bath while she went to get the Heda’s breakfast and saw to their guests.

Their guests.

Clarke was grinning through most of the morning at the thought that the Tower was her and Lexa’s home now. She was so deep in happy thoughts, that she got a fright when Octavia grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into a room where Emori and Murphy sat waiting.

“Hi?” Clarke confusedly addressed the three of them, expectantly staring for a moment at the quiet she was met with before she frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“We don’t know.” Murphy replied and Emori rolled her eyes at his non-answer.

“Azgeda has a new ambassador on the way to Polis.” Emori elaborated.

That was news. Clarke may not trust Jon, but at least he was amicable and respectful whenever he’d visited Polis. And he had warned Lexa about the assassination attempt. Clarke had been certain he’d show up for the Summit to further get into the Commander’s good graces…

“How do you know this? They haven’t even arrived yet.” Clarke wondered, then remembered who she was talking to. “Nevermind. Who are they sending? It’s not Senna, is it?” She grimaced.

Having Senna show up would mean that Clarke couldn’t kill her since she was an ambassador and it would just give Solas more stories to feed his people about the evil Skaiyon controlling the Commander.

“No, her story amazingly checked out.” Murphy answered, still looking surprised and Clarke sort of felt bad for how much she hated Senna. “She’s disappeared though, so that’s kinda suspicious. She’s probably in the Azgeda capital, we can’t move around there as freely anymore, so it’s the only place we haven’t been able to look.” Okay, maybe not so bad anymore.

Clarke couldn’t be worried about Senna now, though.

“So, are you going to tell me who it is, or are we waiting for them to actually arrive so I can see for myself… Which kinda defeats the entire purpose of you guys dragging me in here.”

Clarke received an unanimously synchronised eye roll for her snark.

“It’s Ekko.” Octavia answered.

“Ekko?” Clarke tilted her head.

“Yes, Ekko.” Murphy confirmed.

Clarke lifted her brows. “Who the hell is, Ekko?”

If you had asked Clarke Griffin two years ago what her proudest accomplishment was, she would’ve said the portrait she’d painted of her father while she was locked up in the Sky Box. But as she stood in her Fleimkepa robes, next to the Antler Throne, on the right hand of the Commander of the Blood, Clarke knew that she would need to amend that statement.

She had helped to make this day possible. To bring her people, under threat of war and famine, together. Clarke could sense the hope in the air; it made her stand even taller as she caught her mother’s eyes in the crowd. She wondered if her friends and family understood how important this moment was to Clarke; to have worked toward peace - well almost peace - after having caused so much death.

Lexa understood.

Before they had entered the Throne Room - after having heatedly argued about Lexa not wearing, her armour and Clarke eventually relenting as she got why Lexa didn’t want to seem as threatening as most of them already found her - they’d shared a quiet moment outside.

Lexa hadn’t needed to say it out loud, because Clarke could see the pride in her eyes - naked of any war paint - the gratitude and adoration, as though it was some sort of honour for Lexa to have Clarke be her Fleimkepa. Lexa hadn’t ever doubted Clarke’s abilities. Hell, Lexa hadn’t once mentioned the fact that Clarke was Fleimkepa without having gone through the required apprenticeship, or any form of training for that matter. Not even when Lexa had gotten her memory back, had she doubted Clarke. Lexa had just gone with it, like somehow it made all the sense in the world to her.

While the clan leaders were gathered behind the closed doors of the Throne Room and waiting for the Summit to begin, Lexa had taken her time to press tender kisses all over Clarke’s face and murmured soft reassurances into her ear, because the last two of these meetings hadn’t gone exactly to plan for Clarke. Lexa easily made Clarke feel as though she was the best Fleimkepa to have ever fleimed – kepa’d? - and then smoothly clasped Clarke’s father’s watch around Clarke’s wrist.

Clarke stared down at the keepsake with a fond smile. Lexa had gone with her earlier that day, to the room that Clarke had been avoiding for over a year, in order to retrieve it from its hiding place.

“It’s broken…” Clarke murmured, gently rubbing her thumb of the face, smiling when Lexa covered her hand.

“That would be true, if telling time had been its purpose.” Lexa smiled and Clarke pressed their lips together in a brief, yet heartfelt, thank you.

Lexa then turned the Fleimkepa around by the shoulders, signalled the guards to open the doors, and sent Clarke through them, after giving Clarke’s shoulder and left breast a stealthy squeeze each.

It had been a struggle for Clarke to stop herself from wildly grinning at everyone, but she’d managed a neutral expression on her way down the aisle and up to the dais, taking up her position beside the Antler Throne, with her hands neatly folded in front of her.

“Rise for the Commander!” Clarke had shouted and watched the love of her life stoically strutting through the room, the black train of her coat fluttering gloriously behind her, not looking even remotely like someone who had fondled Clarke only a moment ago.

That had been over an hour prior.

Lexa had started off with a speech about being stronger together, praising each clan on what they prided themselves in and how they would all benefit from sharing resources. The leaders spoke amicably, Clarke found that the large warrior from the Plainriders was actually brain as much as brawn, as he very articulately detailed his concerns for his people’s future. Lexa quickly reassured him with the backing of Osias. They were neighbours after all and an agreement between them would ensure that the Trikru warriors stationed in the Delphi Clan could return home, while the Plainriders guarded the Delphi in turn for trade.

Even with a strong Coalition, there were still elements that refused to answer to the Heda’s laws, like nomadic bandits and scavengers, who posed a big enough threat to still warrant warrior presence in the clans.

The talks all went rather smoothly, mostly because many of the topics had been discussed during Clarke and Lexa’s visit to the clans, and hashed out in the days leading up to the Summit. It was obvious that the Grounders were tired of senseless warring; even the warriors were.

And through the cordial conversation, there was Ekko kom Azgedakru. Sat at one end of the semi-circle, directly opposite Indra. The Ice Nation ambassador hadn’t said a word throughout, having arrived just before sunset, when the Summit was due to commence. She was accompanied by a small delegation, numbering all together five, non-threatening looking individuals, if you didn’t count Echo, who had a glare on her to symbolize which nation she was from.

Clarke didn’t trust her. She didn’t know this woman, having only remembered the name once Octavia had reminded Clarke that it belonged to the woman who had tricked them into storming Polis. Because Clarke may have forgotten her name, but she hadn’t forgotten about that.

‘The Summit is a trap. The Assassin is already there. At sundown, your people will die.’

Octavia had remembered her words verbatim, stating that she did so because Echo hadn’t really lied. The Summit had been a trap, but for Bellamy and Pike, not Kane and Abby. The assassin had already been in Mount Weather. And at sunset, their people in Mount Weather had died.

Echo was sly and intelligent and unwaveringly loyal to Nia, given that she had no qualms turning on the Heda who had saved her from the Mountain, and the Skaikru who had helped her to escape from the cage she’d been trapped in. She had been happy to play her part in turning Skaikru and the Grounders against each other with that senseless attack.

Clarke still couldn’t quite figure out why Azgeda had confessed at the Summit. If they’d just kept quiet, Lexa would’ve been blamed for the attack. Well, Clarke had immediately realised that a Grounder wouldn’t have known how to use self-destruct codes, nor navigate Mount Weather. And why had Echo even bothered taking Bellamy and Pike to Polis? Technically, she had saved their lives by doing so… The Azgeda Ambassador saved them too, by confessing before Lexa would certainly have kicked them all off of her balcony for storming Polis with their guns and accusing her of things she’d had no part in... It was a very intricate and confusing plan that had ended up working out against all odds. Clarke still struggled to determine the sense of it, other than that Azgeda had wanted to kill close to fifty Skaikru and then loudly brag about it at the Summit.

Whatever though. All that mattered at present was that Clarke didn’t trust Echo, and as the meeting progressed, her initial hopefulness faded, and the anxious twist in her gut grew in intensity.

Her role that day was to moderate the flow of the discussion. Normally it would’ve proven difficult given the big personalities present in the room, but Clarke had earned her place and she was well-respected. When she spoke, the leaders of the clans listened. Clarke had been affirmed with each of them through her own actions and by the Heda herself, as Lexa’s Trusted Advisor. Capital letters and all.

And at the end of it, it was Clarke who motioned forward the guard wielding the branding iron. A barbaric practice throughout history, yes, but this wasn’t about ownership, the permanence of the brand was rather to show the severity of the oath being taken. Much as Azgeda decorated their faces and bodies with warrior brands and the Louwada Kliron pierced various metals through their bodies.

Clarke had come to understand the integral part symbolism played in Grounder culture. The tattoos on her head were proof of that.

Lexa was practically slathered in symbolism when she pulled on her ceremonial armour, the helm of awe between her brows, the knife at her thigh, her beautiful red cape flowing over her shoulder. Not to mention her fellow Natblidas, who had died during her Conclave, forever honoured on Lexa’s back. Clarke’s favourite though, were the three bands tattooed around Lexa’s right bicep to symbolize when she’d first become Chief of the Trikru, then Commander of the Blood and finally, Head of the Coalition.

Instead of signing documents, the Grounders decorated their bodies with scars left by blood oaths and brands of vows of duty to their leaders and their people.

So, still steadfast at Lexa’s side, Clarke addressed each clan leader one at a time, asking them to bow down to their Commander and swear their allegiance to Lexa and the Coalition.

Those who didn’t have it already, humbly accepted the brand.

Clarke wasn’t sure whether it was just her who felt the tension grow the closer she came to calling on Ambassador Echo. She’d allocated the Azgeda women that chair - saved her for last - because everyone expected Echo to reject the Coalition. Clarke didn’t want the process to hit a snag prematurely, because when Echo declined, the Heda would dismiss her and send her to tell Solas to prepare for war.

It had been part of the war room discussions, whether to leave Solas and just see what he did on his own, outside of the Coalition. But his people were suffering. They would continue their raids on neighbouring clans out of necessity. Declaring war first, would give the Coalition an advantage instead of just waiting on Solas to make his move. Lexa didn’t say it out loud, but Clarke knew that the Commander held a little bit of hope that if they marched on Azgeda as soon as possible, that Solas – or his council of generals and advisors at least – would concede defeat before any battles started.

By the time the branding iron reached the Sangedakru leader, Clarke’s spine was aching with tension. They’d had their doubts about the man, not having included him in any of the war preparations, but he knelt down and swore his allegiance to the Coalition nonetheless.

Which left only Echo. Twelve out of thirteen wasn’t that bad…

“Leksa kom Trikru betrayed her people when she allied herself with Skaikru.” Echo rose from her seat, her face pulled into a vicious sneer. “She couldn’t defeat the Mountain, because she feared it.” Clarke took a step closer to Lexa, eyes meeting Riley’s, who was already moving toward Echo. “She killed our Haiplana like a coward instead of facing her in battle! She is weak and King Solas will take his rightful place as leader of our people!” Echo glared daggers at Lexa. “Azgeda will never bow to you!”

It was almost laughable how predictable it was. Clarke sort of smiled even through her irritation. But while everyone else was distracted by her shouting and snarling face, Paranoid-Clarke noticed Echo’s hand slipping beneath her jacket. Clarke was moving even before Echo pulled out the gun and took aim at the Heda; Clarke’s body already covering Lexa’s body.

But the instant she was there, Clarke felt herself moving again, as Lexa pushed her out of the way and the gun shot rang out before Clarke had even hit the floor. Frantically, she flipped herself over and took in her surroundings, firstly Lexa, standing upright, then Echo on her back on the floor, the Heda’s knife embedded in her eye.

The relieved breath Clarke sharply exhaled meant nothing through the adrenaline still pumping furiously in her veins. But Clarke allowed Lexa to help her up again, watching her guards arrest the Azgeda delegation – déjà vu – and Echo’s body being taken away while the clans were dismissed by the Commander’s loud authoritative voice, barking them all into prompt action.

Abby had rushed to their side though, as had Octavia, Luna, Kane and Indra. Clarke was about to tell them that she was fine, but no one was looking at her, they were all gaping at Lexa. It was then that Clarke saw what they were staring at: The tiny rivulet of black blood dripping down the Heda’s fingers and the darkening stain of her sleeve, visible even through the almost black clothing.

“No...” Clarke gasped, overcome with a devastating terror. “No.” She shook her head as tears blinded her vision.

Not again. Not again.

“Klark.” Lexa urgently whispered and Clarke could feel the comforting hands touching her face. But one of them was covered in blood. Black blood. And it was as though two seashells had been duct taped to either ear and Clarke couldn’t hear anything aside from that noise loudly buzzing through her head. All she could see was Lexa laying on a bed of furs, blood spewing from her stomach while she told Clarke that her fight was over.

“No…” Another choked sob escaped Clarke, as the world started spinning, before everything went dark.

Clarke woke with a violent jolt of her body and a loud gasp as though she was still in the action of throwing herself in front of Lexa. For a moment, all she could feel was the light perspiration on her skin and her heart frantically racing, before Clarke realised that she was on a soft, familiar, bed.

“You’re okay.” Lexa murmured, looking as though she’d just woken herself from where she was seated on a chair at Clarke’s bedside.

Clarke’s heart jumped and painfully clenched as her eyes rapidly scanned Lexa’s body, finding nothing out of the ordinary. Only that Lexa was wearing her jacket again.

“There’d been blood…” Clarke confusedly rasped and then absently sipped on the water Lexa gently made her drink, not saying anything until Clarke had finished.

It hadn’t been like when Clarke had seen Lexa’s scar for the first time. Clarke had known that the blood wasn’t real then, even as she’d been stuck in the memory. Lexa had been shot; she had been bleeding. Clarke had felt the liquid on her cheeks. It had been real.

Lexa removed Clarke’s jacket with a slight wince and then lowered her top off of her shoulder, revealing a bandaged upper arm.

“Abby said that I will be fine. The bullet had just grazed me... I’ve been injured far worse during training.” Lexa softly smiled as though that would make Clarke feel any better.

Okay, Clarke did feel immensely better at the sight of the clean bandage and Lexa seated upright, her face its lovely tanned hue. She didn’t look at all like someone who’d been shot.

“My people really shouldn’t wield guns.” Lexa amusedly rolled her eyes. “Somehow, I always seem the one to end up getting shot when they do.” She flashed Clarke a charming grin that went ignored as the blonde’s eyes narrowed on her; there was nothing funny about Lexa getting shot. Nothing.

And then something occurred to Clarke.

“How did they even get a gun in here?” Clarke angrily muttered to herself. Last time an amnesiac Lexa had snuck in with a dagger, Clarke had made sure to up security around the Tower even more. “That gun should never have made it into the Throne Room.” She was suddenly seething as she threw the furs away from her body and jumped out of bed, heading toward the exit, heedless of the fact that she was wearing a nightgown.

“Klark…” Lexa tried to stop her, to no avail.

“My guards were in charge of security. My guards let Azgeda through with a gun! A gun, Leksa!” Clarke shouted and reached for the door, just as she was enveloped by two strong arms. One smoothly around her abdomen, the other snuggly between her breasts, fingers gently pressed against her shoulder.

Clarke instantly stopped as Lexa melded herself to Clarke’s back, loosely holding Clarke against her; instantly pacifying her.

“The Azgeda delegation have been imprisoned.” Lexa’s softly spoke over Clarke’s shoulder. “Ekko is dead.”

And how did Lexa know that that was what Clarke needed? Not the words, just to feel Lexa’s body pressed to Clarke’s; to feel her heartbeat against Clarke’s back. To feel that Lexa was real and there and hadn’t burnt in a funeral pyre over a year ago…

“We found one of their warriors posing as one of your guards. He had smuggled in the weapon – a gift they had received from the Maunon Emerson - and had handed it to Ekko in passing. They had killed the guard that was supposed to be at that post. No one had betrayed us…”

Clarke was barely listening as she sunk back into Lexa’s chest, feeling her own breaths come out calmer when Lexa slightly tightened her hold, warmly squeezing Clarke and keeping her close.

“Everything’s okay...” Lexa’s hot breath tickled over Clarke’s jaw, and then she felt plump lips brushing her skin and her eyes fluttered shut. “Though I will ask you to never jump in front of me like that again.”

The words were stern, even while Lexa continued to tenderly hold Clarke, as though she was never going to let go.

“My duty is to protect The Flame.” Clarke hoarsely – stubbornly – replied, continuing to enjoy Lexa’s lips having moved down to her neck. “I’ll ask you to never shove me out of the way like that again when it’ll leave you open.”

She could feel Lexa smirking against her skin, so Clarke rocked her hips back and Lexa’s breath caught in her throat.

“I am Heda, my duty is to protect my people.” Lexa thickly rasped and before Clarke could think of a comeback during what could’ve escalated into an argument had they both not been so happy that the other was alive, Lexa nuzzled into Clarke’s nape and grazed her teeth over the scar at the back of Clarke’s neck.

Clarke let out a keening noise that made her flush with embarrassment, as her knees buckled in pleasure. Lexa whimpered in response and ground her front against Clarke’s back, holding them both upright.

And how strange – poetic? – wasn’t it, that Clarke and Lexa had matching scars behind their necks as well as on their palms? Clarke of course having received hers the day she tried to poison Nia, and Lexa hers later, when she had been fighting Roan. Even then, without any discussion, they had both decided that making Roan King of Azgeda, would be the best course of action.

Clarke easily spun herself around - because even while Lexa held her, she never ever trapped her - and crashed her lips against the Natblida’s, groaning when she was met with as much intensity.

They hurriedly and mindlessly undressed and it wasn’t long before Lexa had Clarke’s naked body pinned to the bed.

Only having slightly slowed at the impact, they soon resumed their frantic pace, hands wandering and touching, bodies desperately writhing and bucking against each other, and it was a miracle that Clarke even remembered the bandage on Lexa’s arm and what it meant.

Lexa didn’t seem to notice that she was favouring her uninjured arm, managing just fine, but Clarke smoothly flipped them around, pinning Lexa on her back and lifting up on her own arms in order to appreciate the gorgeous sight beneath her.

Lexa had gone willingly, hair spilling all over the pillows, a lazy smile below hooded eyes as she breathlessly stared up at Clarke, seemingly mesmerized; like Lexa was dazed on happiness; readily submitting to whatever Clarke wanted.

And this was them, they had been a team from the start. When all signs were pointing toward them being in competition - two stubborn enemy leaders from immensely different backgrounds - instead of fighting each other, they’d worked together. They had stood against their own people to defend the other’s decisions; developing a sage knowledge of one another that no one else understood. Clarke got Lexa and Lexa got Clarke and yes they fought, but they also fought better together.

Clarke smiled when she noticed how Lexa’s eyes had cleared, the lazy smirk having turned into a tender smile. Lexa’s hands still caressed her body, as though she was somehow aware of all the processing going on in Clarke’s brain, just patiently laying there and waiting for Clarke to come back to her.

“I love you, Leksa…” Clarke huskily declared and dipped her head down to kiss Lexa again.

They started moving together at a fraction of their initial pace, and yet they’d somehow managed to up the intensity clouding the room.

Entirely overcome, Clarke’s fingers entered Lexa without any warning, surprising them both, but in such a good way. Lexa hoarsely moaned and readily opened for her, while Clarke continued to suck on the Commander’s neck. Knowing of the bruises she would cause, but unable to stop it, because Lexa felt so good as Clarke steadily thrusted into her; velvety and wet and familiar around her fingers…

“I love you so much.” Clarke mindlessly mumbled into Lexa’s neck, her chest tightening as she dazedly moved to kiss Lexa’s willing mouth again.

There was a stubborn lump in her throat and Clarke tasted the salt on her lips the same time Lexa did, judging by the way the Heda’s body stiffened for a brief moment before she relaxed again. Clarke remained frozen above her, though, fingers still buried deep inside of Lexa.

Lexa continued to kiss Clarke, gentling it down, only stopping her soft caress over Clarke’s body when her hands came up to cup Clarke’s wet cheeks and Clarke had to refocus her teary eyes when intense green stared back at her.

The heady air around them had grown still.

“No more tears for us.” Lexa whispered, her words making Clarke’s jaw clench, as she tried to fight back all the emotion flooding her and her eyes fluttered, releasing the tears that had been pooling there.

Lexa just gently wiped them away with her thumbs and Clarke wanted to be angry at Lexa for not falling apart. For not remembering what had happened immediately after the last time they’d made love. Because Clarke hadn’t realised how scared she’d been to be with Lexa again and had instead convinced herself that she was patient for not pushing for more intimacy… Meanwhile, Clarke had been utterly terrified of making love to Lexa; scared sh*tless of what would happen thereafter.

But Clarke couldn’t really be upset with Lexa for not sharing her insane fears, because Lexa was always calm when Clarke needed her to be. Clarke drew strength from it. And she would’ve felt bad that it was all one-sided, if Clarke hadn’t held Lexa while she broke apart in her arms, crying over the loss of her Natblidas. Had Lexa not melted into Clarke’s embrace every night they’d spent together since Ton DC, because Lexa trusted Clarke. Because Clarke made Lexa feel safe. And with who else but each other could the Heda and Fleimkepa be this vulnerable, when their people needed them to always be strong?

“Soon, Klark,” Lexa promised as though she could, “we will owe less to our people.” A mischievous grin followed and Clarke smiled too, her still aching chest catching her breath only slightly. “And we will have more time for us.” Lexa earnestly continued.

Clarke nodded obediently, because Azgeda was the final hurdle left in their current race. Solas had publicly drawn first blood with that assassination attempt. And with a gun no less. The Heda’s armies were no doubt already assembling to march on Solas’s fortress. The Coalition would win and then Lexa would return to Polis. Return home. To Clarke.

And Clarke knew that Lexa was an excellent warrior, but there was just something about watching the woman you loved being shot by a stray bullet and the random, shock and senselessness of it, just changed you and fostered this need for you to protect her from anything and anyone because there’ll forever be that fear that everything and everyone was a threat.

“And that’s because of you.” Lexa stated, regaining Clarke’s full attention, who blushed at the praise she had yet to grow used to.

Lexa’s smile was honoured; Clarke even rose a little as Lexa’s chest swelled underneath her.

“We’re almost there, Klark.” Lexa whispered, her proud smile making Clarke’s heart ache even more. “Soon, we’ll be able to lay in this bed without worrying about war.”

Lexa was solemn in her promises. They both knew that Lexa couldn’t really promise anything. That it was a promise to try. That Lexa was committed to bringing peace and that she was committed to Clarke.

“Soon our lives will be about more than just surviving.” Lexa intently professed, with dark eyes and a resolution that made Clarke forget that they were Clarke and Lexa and that sh*t just came to find them.

Clarke nodded again and leaned down for a sweet kiss and Lexa whimpered into her mouth when Clarke shifted and accidently moved the fingers still inside of her.

“I love you.” Clarke breathlessly mumbled against Lexa’s lips, groaning when Lexa wetly clenched around her fingers at hearing the words.

Lexa’s hand found its way between Clarke’s thighs and easily slipped inside of Clarke.

“Oh god…” Clarke moaned, with a deep shudder of pleasure, remembering just how much she’d missed those long fingers inside of her.

Over the past year, Clarke had spent many nights in her room, with her hand between her thighs, desperately trying to remember the feel of Lexa’s fingers; to mimic them curling inside of her, accompanied by Lexa’s skilful mouth… Sometimes Clarke would only need to picture Lexa standing there, watching her; intently staring at Clarke with those eyes as though Clarke was everything and it would instantly send Clarke spiralling right over the edge…

They slickly moved together; urgently clinging to each other, tighter and harder, and in perfect sync with the coiling in Clarke’s stomach. Sweat dusted their skin as they desperately attempted to keep their mouths attached, until they were panting for air and only their foreheads were touching…

Clarke’s eyes had been tightly screwed shut as her body steadily rocked towards its peak, but she forced them open when she heard Lexa’s sharp, quavering, gasps for air, flawlessly in tuned with the wild bucking of her hips and the pumping of her fingers into Clarke.

Finally, with a raspy cry of pleasure, Lexa arched into Clarke’s body, blunt nails digging into Clarke’s back, triggering Clarke’s own, shuddering org*sm and they at last released the tension that had been building up between them for weeks on end...

And later, when Clarke limply laid on her back, relishing in the feel of Lexa melded to her side, Lexa’s hands still stroking Clarke’s body as though she couldn’t quite stop herself from touching her:

“I love you, Klark.”

And though her heart joyfully flipped and a wide grin spread across her face, Clarke had thought that it would’ve been a way more dramatic moment, than just the contented sigh that had escaped her body.

Clarke had been certain that the earth would quake, or that music would start playing, or that the sky would be torn down, because Lexa had finally told Clarke that she loved her. Not stopping halfway through the sentence and changing it into another truth, or saying that she ‘would always be with’ Clarke…

But as Clarke held the tiny Heda in her arms, Lexa’s head instantly lolling onto Clarke’s shoulder, her entire body slack and spent, Clarke realised one thing, as she smiled and caringly pressed a kiss to Lexa’s head: Clarke had always known how much Lexa loved her.

Chapter 14

Chapter Text

It was three days later that Lexa and Clarke stood in the Heda’s stables; Lexa on her way to meet with the warriors who had arrived outside of Polis, ready to march on Azgeda. The armies had been summoned by their leaders on the evening of the failed assassination attempt.

Solas, fuelled by desperation and hate, had made his biggest mistake yet: he’d not only sent someone else to do his dirty work, but he’d had it done with a gun. The Coalition stood stronger than ever, united in their mutual hatred for the weapons and repulsed that Azgeda would stoop so low. This even though a warrior had arrived the previous day with a message from the King himself, stating that Echo had acted alone and that Azgeda would never associate themselves with Skaikru weapons.

Nobody believed him. Especially not after Indra had spent some quality time with one of the men who had been arrested as part of the Azgeda delegation, until he eventually confirmed who had given them their orders: Echo had volunteered for the suicide mission, when her King had asked her to. She had died believing that what she was doing, was best for her people.

Jake had told Clarke that before the bombs, one per cent of the richest people in the world, had owned more than the other ninety-nine per cent combined. There had always been enough resources for everyone to live happy and fulfilled lives, but it was the distribution of that wealth that had been significantly skewed. Clarke really wished that her father could’ve met Lexa. Unlike the leaders before her, and the majority throughout history predating the nuclear holocaust, Leksa kom Trikru was actually succeeding where they had splendidly and purposefully failed.

That morning, the Commander was heading out to the camps to do a headcount and meet with the generals of the various armies gathered there. That was the actual reason that Lexa was needed on the battlefield: to bring order to the diverse clash of clan culture and strong personalities all high on battle-lust. The Commander was the one person who brought them all together and united them under the same cause, while effectively distributing them where they would be utilized best during wartime. From the balcony in the Throne Room, Clarke had estimated the warriors to number over a thousand already, with more streaming in as they received the call to arms from the various messengers who had been sent out by the Coalition leaders.

Their personal guards were waiting outside of the stables and though the smell of the place left much to be desired, Clarke still didn’t want to let go of the woman in her arms; willingly bearing the musky stench of stable, as she pressed her face into Lexa’s neck, trying to inhale only the warmth of Lexa’s skin instead.

“The sooner I leave, the sooner I will return.” Lexa murmured, making no move to let go of Clarke either.

They were still awkward with this whole being together thing. Not sure how to be a couple and still be Lexa and Clarke, who coincidentally happen to be the Heda and Fleimkepa... But they were a team, that was all Clarke needed to know. The foundation they had built was solid. Clarke was confident that they would find their flow soon enough though. They’d done so effortlessly during their preparations for the Summit, too determined and exhausted to think much on their actions. Because it was only when they thought too hard about it, that it became slightly awkward, but then Lexa would bashfully smile and Clarke would melt, and everything would be better.

“Will you be back before supper?”

“I will be sure that I am if you’re offering to have it with me...”

Clarke hummed. “I’ll have the kitchen prepare your favourite.” Clarke lazily rasped back, blissfully basking in the simple domesticity of the conversation.

She felt as though she was being too clingy, but in a few days’ time, Lexa would be marching off to war and Clarke needed to get as much of her as she could. Lexa hardly seemed to mind the attention though, instead readily soaking it up whenever possible.

“Mochof, Klark. You take such good care of The Flame. We will need to document your efforts in the Journal of the First Commander.”

Clarke grinned at the smirk she heard in Lexa’s voice, delighted at having discovered the usually stoic Commander’s sense of humour. More so, that they’d reached a level of comfortability in their relationship for Lexa to feel at ease enough to drop her mask around Clarke. So Clarke ran her hands up the Heda’s back and Lexa’s body responded as it usually did, by easily submitting to touch, lithely arching into Clarke.

“I’ll be sure to write down instructions and draw diagrams of how to correctly take care of a Human Interface. Proper lubrication is key…”

Lexa chuckled throatily and Clarke bit her lip to stop herself from looking up into those eyes, because despite the bad flirting, things were going in a direction Clarke didn’t want to stop and Lexa was already running almost an hour late to her meeting with the war council.

I am Heda, they will wait, was all Lexa had absently murmured earlier that morning, before keenly ducking her head down between Clarke’s trembling thighs.

“We should go through these instructions after dinner,” Lexa lowly suggested, her voice already thick with arousal; they’d been lightly grinding and touching for the past ten minutes, “find out the best ways to ensure an optimally functioning laptop.”

Clarke chuckled even as she kissed Lexa’s neck and up her jaw, before finally smashing their mouths together. Lexa was right there with her, but Clarke had made a promise to be supportive; to not be selfish when they still didn’t really have peace yet. So she reluctantly – and with all the strength she could muster – gently broke the kiss and rested her forehead against Lexa’s.

Needing to make her retreat in stages, Clarke gently brushed their noses together, smiling when Lexa contently hummed and affectionately nuzzled her back. And after finally managing to fully disengage herself from Lexa’s face, Clarke bit her lip when dark eyes ravenously stared at her.

“I…” Clarke trailed off, distracted by the way Lexa seemed to lick Clarke off of her lips, lost in the action. “You need to go.” She tried to assert and went to fetch Lexa’s horse on wobbly legs and with a faltering resolve. “We’ve already traumatised your horse. If we stay here any longer, some poor stableboy is bound to wander in and get an eyeful of the Commander.” Clarke blinked as the possible images flashed in her mind: Lexa pressed into a pile of hay, legs spread wide and ready for Clarke…

Lexa actually whimpered out loud, pulling Clarke from her thoughts and causing Clarke to smirk smugly. They both knew that no one would get into the stables with their guards outside.

“As you command, Fleimkepa.” Lexa conceded, voice still low and raspy as she deliberately gave Clarke a wide berth, going to mount her horse from the wrong side.

God, Clarke grew even more aroused looking up at her, sat regally on her large stallion. And when was this honeymoon phase of their relationship supposed to end? Clarke could barely function anymore; it felt as though she had this constant need to have parts of her body inside of Lexa’s body, permanently keeping them connected to one another…

“I’ll see you later.” Clarke whispered, a painting forming in her brain.

With Lexa back on the throne, they shared the responsibilities around the Tower, even when Lexa left the decision-making up to Clarke, apparently having been serious about Clarke remaining the authority in Polis. Working so efficiently together, left them both more time to do the things they enjoyed, and at the moment that meant spending every second they could with each other.

Clarke was certain she’d do plenty of that after the war too. But she could also see herself visiting Arkadia more, as well as the clans that she’d fallen in love with during her and Lexa’s journey. Maybe someday, she and Lexa would have time to travel without it having to be for their people… Clarke had heard that Lexa actually had a boat gifted to her by the Flaudonakru and that the stars were brightest over the ocean…

Clarke was halfway through a fantasy of a dark and placid ocean at night, a full moon hung low over the horizon, Lexa’s naked body bathed in silvery light on the wooden deck of a ship, when Lexa interrupted her thoughts:

“Ai hod yu in, Klark.” Lexa murmured, staring down at Clarke as though she was right there in Clarke’s mind, picturing it all and wanting it all, with every fibre of her being.

“Ai hod yu in seintaim…” Clarke husked back with a tender smile and watched Lexa and her horse until they disappeared out the stable doors.

Clarke had told her guard that she would be out in a minute, choosing to remain in the stables for a little while longer to daydream about her and Lexa’s vacation before she had to go back to the Tower to meet with the clan leaders and assuage their fears about the upcoming war. They also needed to ensure that trade remained open between the clans and that food and other resources would be distributed safely, prioritizing those villages currently in need of it, despite their army’s focus on Azgeda.

Mostly though, Clarke stayed in the stables in order to compose herself and get that pestering feeling of giddiness to leave her stomach.

Her mother was there in Polis; Arkadia was safely integrated into the Coalition; Octavia had found Luna and somehow that was working out better than anyone could’ve predicted. Also, thanks to her best friend, the citizens had started calling Lexa Bulletproof as an actual, honest to god, honorific. Not to mention that Solas was going to get his ass handed to him very soon, considering how hyped the armies had been after Lexa had addressed them the day before, delivering a speech so inspiring that even Clarke was tempted to pick up a sword and run into battle right along with them.

After jumping the Heda the instant they were alone in the war tent, Clarke finally admitted to herself that she might have a leadership fetish too.

“Not a sound, Fleimkepa.”

Clarke let out an embarrassingly high squeak of surprise, not having expected anyone else to be in the stables, but her surprise soon turned into anger when she spotted Senna standing there.

“What the hell, you pervert? Have you just been lurking in here the entire time?” Clarke snarled, remembering that she and Lexa had started making out the instant they arrived and had absently told their guards to go away, instead of them doing a sweep of the seemingly abandoned stables.

“Come with me and do so quietly and no harm will come to Milah.” Senna darkly warned.

Clarke cringed when she sensed someone moving in behind her, just managing to stop herself from running or fighting back. “f*ck.” She irritably grumbled, just before an aching blow impacted her head and knocked her out cold.

Clarke woke slumped and hogtied over a trotting horse - her throbbing headache having stabbed her awake because of all the shaking - only to find that she couldn’t see anything through the bag covering her head.

“Really?” Clarke shouted in frustration, hearing a couple of horses’ hooves around her. “I know you’re taking me to Azgeda! Why do I have this smelly thing on me!?”

What was it with the Ice Nation and covering her head?

“So we don’t have to look at your Skaikru face!” An angry male voice shouted back as though Skaikru was a curse word.

The horse she was on came to a stop and Clarke’s feet were untied. She was then manoeuvred to sit upright in the saddle, her hands still bound behind her back and then the bag was slightly lifted to Clarke’s nose, only to allow a gag to be placed over her mouth.

Yep, the Azgedakru had definitely all attended the same school of kidnapping.

Clarke stiffened when she felt a feminine body mount the horse behind her. Arms threaded between Clarke’s bound limbs and around her waist, to take the reins, before they started galloping onward again. Clarke’s headache was only slightly better, the bouncing still torturous as they journeyed for a few hours until she heard the clanking of swords once they undoubtedly reached the training fields leading up to the Azgeda Fortress’s steps.

Clarke rolled her eyes even though no one could see her and it sort of hurt her brain.

She was pulled off the horse and up the steps by two people holding either bound arm and was finally thrown down onto her knees, biting onto the gag to keep from crying out in pain when the stone floors sharply impacted her joints.

The bag was removed from her head and Clarke rolled her eyes again at Solas smugly seated on his throne, Senna standing at his side. They were the only people present in the hall, save for the two guards who had practically carried Clarke in there.

“Welcome back to my home, Skaigada.” Solas sneered down at her. “Not so talkative now without Leksa here to protect you, are you?”

Clarke just stared at him as though he was an idiot if he expected her to say anything while still gagged.

“Tell me… What do you think Leksa would do if I sent your head to her bed in honour of my fallen Haiplana?” He sad*stically laughed when Clarke couldn’t quite hide the pain in her eyes at the thought of Lexa discovering that horror for a second time. “Or maybe I will send you to her piece by piece and claim the mighty Wanheda’s power for myself?”

A cold chill ran down Clarke’s spine as his grey eyes shone with sickening delight, while they travelled her body as though he was picturing which parts he would cut off first.

“Ai Haihefa, with all due respect,” Senna started with a blank face and emotionless voice, “if you kill her now, Heda will bring her armies and defeat us. But if you kept her alive as leverage, Heda will do whatever you say…” She robotically stated.

Clarke glared at Senna, wishing - not for the first time - that she’d killed the bitch when she’d had the chance.

“Leksa’s weakness…” Solas sneered as though it was the most disgusting thing he’d ever said. “Fine. Lock her up. Let us give Leksa a chance to miss her Skaigada.”

The two Azgeda warriors lifted her onto her feet again, Clarke roughly shrugging them off to walk on her own as they followed after Senna through the cold corridors. Clarke took the time to examine the fortress, trying to find possible escape routes. She’d gotten rid of the gun she kept in her robes after Echo almost killed Lexa, because Clarke didn’t want someone to use her gun to do that, and now cursed herself because her gun had been securely hidden where no one would find it. If she’d had her gun with her in the stables, Clarke would’ve shot Senna before she’d even opened her mouth again.

Clarke’s heart clenched at the thought of Milah, afraid that they would use the girl the same way they intended on using Clarke on Lexa. God, she prayed that Lexa would find Milah so that Solas wouldn’t turn the little angel into another Ontari.

Clarke was led into a room, the door closing behind her, leaving only herself and Senna inside.

Senna removed the gag and cut off the ropes binding Clarke’s hands, though Clarke wasn’t stupid enough to attack her with the guards just a shout away. Instead she looked around the space for escape routes and a possible weapon. The room was similar to the one Clarke had given Senna in the Tower and Clarke would’ve laughed, was her gut not boiling with rage and dread that might’ve escaped and shattered her calm, had Clarke given in to the impulse.

“Please send word to Leksa that I’m alive.” Clarke tried not to make it sound as though she was begging, but she could just imagine Lexa’s panic, desperately searching for Clarke all around Polis and it brought a thick knot to her throat.

f*cking Azgeda.

Clarke was busy staring out a window, trying to figure out how high up they were, but turned to Senna when the woman let out a long suffering sigh, seated with her hands in her hair and elbows resting on her knees.

With a frown, Clarke suspiciously studied the odd picture.

“I will help you escape.” Senna earnestly announced, so seriously in fact, that Clarke barked out a harsh, incredulous laugh in her distraught face.

“Where’s Milah?” Was all she sneered back.

“She’s safe in Polis, with her father.”

Clarke scoffed in annoyance at having been played. Of course Luna wouldn’t have let anything happen to Milah. Octavia had been with them the previous evening and the morning too. Milah had more guards than Lexa had. Senna had just wanted Clarke to stay quiet and accept her fate, instead of alerting the rest of Polis that she had been in danger.

“So you expect me to believe that you kidnapped me in Polis, brought me all the way here and will now help me escape?” Clarke lifted a sceptical brow and defiantly sat down on the small cot. “Well, I’m not sure what your game is here, but I refuse to play it. I’d rather die here than take any danger home to Polis.” She resolutely declared.

Senna audibly sighed again.

“I will help you for Leksa’s sake.”

Clarke snorted, she was so over this sh*t already. She could’ve been in Polis right now, wrapped in Lexa’s arms, having Lexa worship her breasts… God, when would the insanity of Clarke’s life end? Like seriously, when? Was it Karma getting back at her for all the death she’d caused?

“Leksa’s going to destroy you all.” Clarke confidently smirked, darkly delighting in the truth of that statement.

Senna visibly gulped.

“I have no doubt about that.” She murmured. “I have sent word to Heda that you are here, so she should arrive just before sunset tomorrow. But if you’re to remain safe and not used as leverage to stop her, we will need to get you away from here, and meet her and her armies on the road to Polis.”

“You were the one who just convinced that asshole to keep me as leverage! Now you want me to believe you suddenly don’t want that anymore?!”

“Please lower your voice, Fleimkepa.” Senna patiently murmured, only increasing Clarke’s ire. “I understand why you don’t trust me, but listen to what I’m trying to tell you: Leksa will be here tomorrow and when she arrives, Solas will use your life to barter for power. We both know that Leksa will not sacrifice you. Not again. And the only way to prevent her from having to choose between you and her people, is for you to not be here when she reaches Azgeda.”

Clarke just stared at her for a long moment, trying to figure out what Senna’s angle was.

“Why are you doing this? Are you in love with her or something?”

“Solas should not have sent Ekko to assassinate her.” Senna grimaced in distaste and anger. “Though I do love Leksa, women do not interest me in that way. Believe it or not, I’m trying to honour my father by protecting her as he had made me vow before his death. I love Jon.”

“Jon?”

“He is mine.”

“Oh.” Clarke pondered that for a bit, relief setting in that nothing more had gone on between Senna and Lexa, and since they had been in hiding, nothing between Lexa and anyone else either, and then Clarke’s suspicion thankfully returned. “And he didn’t mind you spending a year in another clan?”

“Our duty is to our people…”

Clarke snorted again at the familiar words.

“I want to believe that your intentions are good here,” Clarke honestly admitted, unable to ignore the sincerity in Senna’s entire demeanour and was desperately needing a way out of Azgeda, “but life’s told me that I would be an idiot to do that.”

Senna firmly nodded, as though in acceptance of some unspoken challenge Clarke had laid down.

“Have you ever felt separate from your people? As though you were bound to them, and yet you have to constantly prove yourself worthy to them?”

Clarke laughed out loud. Bitterly. And Senna took that as an affirmative.

“Nia had been my mother.” She confessed and Clarke eyebrows shot up into her hairline and she just managed to stop her chin from hitting the floor.

“You’re a Princess of Azgeda?” Her brows knitted in confusion as she thought on what Indra had taught her about the Azgeda monarchy. “If that’s true and Nia was your mother,” Clarke sent her a pitying look, starting to understand a little bit more of Senna, even while she remained doubtful of the situation, “why had her general been crowned King and not you?”

“Because Titus kom Trikru is my father.”

“So?”

“Nia met Nontu before she became Heiplana and he Fleimkepa. Both had been different people from what they’d told me. Too young to think of consequences.”

Clarke couldn’t help but pull her face at the mental images molesting her brain. Those two together was something she’d never ever wanted to consider.

Senna pretended not to notice.

“It happened while he had been travelling through Azgeda territory. But when Nia found out his heritage, she had him banished. Nontu hadn’t purposely lied to her; he hadn’t even known who she was. But they parted ways and soon I was born in secret and given to one of the servants to raise.”

Senna chuckled dryly at the look on Clarke’s face.

“You had met Nia; I believe that I had been lucky to be given a different mother.” She sadly smiled. “My intention is not to gain your pity, Fleimkepa.” Senna murmured. “Azgeda are a proud people and our haiplanas and haihefas have taught us that we are better than the other clans. That we deserve to sit in Polis and rule over our people like the many Commanders before Leksa had done. I grew up in this fortress, where everyone knows that my blood is tainted with Trikru blood. That I’m a bastard. It’s not law that I shouldn’t be Heiplana now, but Nia had never acknowledged me publicly, even though the people here know who I am.”

As Clarke watched the tick in Senna’s jaw, the shame and resentment, the pride and hurt, she finally got why Senna might’ve truly wanted to be Fleimkepa. More specifically, why Senna had wanted – needed - Titus to acknowledge her as his apprentice and even more so, as his daughter.

“Why did Nia send you to Polis?” Clarke wondered, because at the time of Senna’s arrival, no one could’ve predicted what would happen between Lexa and Clarke and the Mountain. “To gain Titus’s trust and assassinate Leksa so she could be replaced by Ontari?”

Senna nodded without even attempting a lie, and then wryly laughed.

“It took some time to convince Nontu that I was his daughter, but he knew that he had been with Nia and when he had been with her. He had been distrustful; I believe that’s why he never announced me his apprentice. But we spent time together while Leksa was away at war. We grew close and I found that I wanted him to speak about me the way he spoke about her, with such pride. The same way that Nia had spoken about Ontari...” Senna bitterly laughed, very much aware of the acknowledgment she’d been desperately craving, but denied from both of her parents.

“So you went to Polis for your people, to finally be accepted by them by assassinating the Commander and you just let go of that after Leksa was handed over to you, weak and vulnerable, and instead decided to nurse her back to health?” Clarke narrowed her eyes, still looking for loopholes in Senna’s story. Still trying to find the lie there surely must be.

“I had been forced to stay in the shadows in Polis, to not talk about who my parent was, the exact same way as I had been here at the Fortress. Nontu must’ve sensed that I had truly wanted to be Fleimkepa. If he had chosen me, I would’ve remained loyal to The Flame. That he had entrusted Leksa’s life to me… That had been more of an acknowledgement than announcing me his successor.”

Clarke nodded because she suspected that Titus might’ve loved Lexa a lot more than his long lost daughter and would’ve never given Lexa’s care to Senna had he not believed in Senna. Lexa too, wasn’t a bad judge of character. Clarke knew that Lexa had trusted Senna, that’s why the Commander still hadn’t been able to really speak about the year they’d spent by the lake.

“So when things didn’t work out in Polis, you decided that you’ll present Leksa to Solas and hopefully elevate your place here.” Clarke deduced.

“No, not at first.” Senna denied without elaborating. “I took her to my home in Chester. I may not have been raised as a Princess of Azgeda, but Nia had made sure that I was taken care of.”

Without really giving me the affection I truly needed, Clarke heard the unspoken words, waiting for a pause in Senna’s narrative to ask her about her change of plans, hoping to catch her in a lie.

“Unfortunately, Nontu’s reverence for Leksa must’ve brushed off on me.” She smiled and Clarke did too. Lexa had a way of unexpectedly getting under your skin without you realising it until it was too late to do anything about it. “I kept her a secret for months… I’m not a good warrior, but I helped her train and to become strong again after how weak her injury had made her body. And I taught her what Nontu had taught me and what I remembered from my own teachings about our people.”

“Teaching her that Skaikru is evil…” Clarke casually inserted.

“Tell me whether you would believe differently in my shoes? Having grown up in this place? You met Roan. You know the pressure he had been under. Here in this fortress, everyone is taught that if you’re not Azgeda, you’re the enemy. Skaikru had actually declared themselves such. And a Skaikru weapon had nearly killed Leksa.”

“Yeah yeah, I know. Some Skaikru feel the same about your people.” Clarke admitted, biting back the remark that it was Titus who nearly killed Lexa and not the Skaikru weapon. She needed Senna to keep talking.

“It is the easy way.” Senna acknowledged.

No wonder Lexa had been so comfortable with Senna. So protective. When the woman let her guard down, you couldn’t help but be at ease around her. It was a dangerous charm that could easily be used as a tactic. Clarke had used it herself on many occasions and instantly upped her guard again which Senna had so effortlessly torn down.

“At first, I had waited for her to remember.” Senna went on, answering Clarke’s initial query without prompting. “It had been my intention to take her to Polis once she did and be her Fleimkepa to honour my father and hopefully gain favour for my people for having saved her. But Leksa never remembered…”

“And then we announced Luna’s Ascension.”

Senna nodded vigorously. “I panicked. I had no idea whether Luna held the same values as Leksa. Whether there would be a Coalition again. Whether she would trade with my people after all they had done; all Solas had done in the past few months to terrorize the Flaudonkru villages. My loyalty is to my people. To Azgeda; not to Solas.”

Clarke nodded, the Boat People would’ve demanded justice. Clarke had been in many meetings with their leader about how to better protect their borders against Azgeda and Sangeda attacks.

“I have friends who serve as advisors to the King.” Senna continued, seemingly unable to stop all the confessions spewing from her mouth. “People I have known all my life. I met with them and took them to my home. I introduced them to Leksa and we asked her to be our ally when she was Commander again. She hadn’t said much, but I knew that she felt indebted to me. That she would consider it. That we had a better chance because I had cared for her and was the only person she really knew and trusted.”

Clarke’s jaw clenched at the manipulation and her anger at Senna returned, but she held her tongue and carefully listened to get more information. Clarke wasn’t sure why Senna would make up such an elaborate story, but she was keeping an open mind that it could still be an attempt at manipulation.

“Solas never met with her. I may have wanted Leksa to side with my people, and wished to do so as her Fleimkepa, but I have always protected her. I never took her to Azgeda and only introduced her to people I trusted. I had promised Nontu that she would remain safe and later I had grown to want that because of the friendship that had formed between us.”

“And then she regained her memory and your promises to your people fell flat. I can’t imagine Solas took that very well.” Clarke scowled. “So why is it that you’re not in hiding? That he’s still listening to you speak?”

“You underestimate me, Fleimkepa. I thought that you would understand. You and I aren’t warriors; we use what skills we have to survive in this world.”

Clarke smirked and shook her head, because wasn’t that the truth.

“I waited until after Leksa’s second Ascension; after she had come here to intimidate Solas. I waited until he was desperate and afraid, and then I went to him. I asked how I could be held responsible for her remembering again and told him of a way to still have the Heda under Azgeda control, since we had no Natblida of our own to replace her. The plan would also have stopped Solas from sending assassins to Polis, because he knew it was the only way to remain in power as the Coalition army is greater than Azgeda’s.”

All caught up and right back where they started, Clarke nodded. “And now you want me to believe that after going through all the trouble of kidnapping me for leverage, even having suggested it to Solas, you’re just going to let me go again?”

“Like I said, he shouldn’t have tried to kill, Leksa.” Senna’s jaw clenched and her eyes flashed dangerously, before her expression grew softer again. “And I saw you and Leksa in the stables…”

“And just changed your mind watching us make out?”

“I had heard the rumours that Wanheda held the Commander’s heart in her hands…” Senna murmured. “I thought it was a trick and that you were using her to protect your people.” She met Clarke’s gaze and Clarke struggled to keep the stare; that old guilt of Blood Must Not Have Blood flooding her. “I wanted you away from her, prepared to kidnap you and give you to Solas to save her from your influence. From Skaikru influence.”

Clarke almost laughed at how she and Senna had had very similar thoughts about each other’s relationship with Lexa.

“I just don’t want to fight anymore, when nothing I do ever seems enough. I’d done it for Nia and then for Titus, thinking it was for my people… I’m tired, Klark.” Senna actually did look exhausted. Clarke knew that feeling. “After seeing you with Leksa and how happy she was and how much I just wanted to freely be with Jon like that… I changed my mind for Leksa, not for you. But I had to take you because of the warriors Solas had sent with me, who would’ve taken you regardless; because of Jon who is here in this fortress and who Solas keeps close to him to keep me under his control. But now I’ll help you escape. You will go back to Leksa and she will come and defeat Solas and welcome my people in her Coalition. She will feed us and protect us, where Solas would not.”

“And what will you do?” Clarke asked.

“Jon and I are going to run away from all of this.” Senna suddenly smiled; it was weird. Clarke hadn’t realised how young she actually was. “He is the eldest son of the nineteenth Commander of the Blood. He understands what it feels like to be a disappointment to a parent, just because you weren’t like them and not made from the same blood... After Leksa conquers Azgeda and welcomes our people into the Coalition, he will meet me by the lake and we will go somewhere where no one can find us.”

“This sounds too good to be true.” Clarke refused to get her hopes up. If she trusted Senna, she might make things even worse for Lexa if it was a trap. “Why are you only leaving now? Why didn’t you send someone else to get me? Then you and Jon could’ve been long gone by now.”

Senna didn’t even seem irritated by the interrogation. Easily answering all the questions and doubts Clarke could think up. Could someone really be such a good actress?

“Solas had instructed me to get you myself and had sent his people with me because he suspects that I care for Leksa, given that I had hidden her from him for a very long time. Jon had made everyone believe that I had died in Polis along with Roan. Our plan was that he would join me in Chester for good, but his duty had kept him here.” Senna proudly smiled as she spoke about her lover. “So Solas never trusted it when I re-emerged with the Heda who had no memory. And was angry that I hadn’t told him about her sooner. He knew that if I was the one to take you, that Leksa would never forgive me… And had I refused him, he would’ve hurt or even killed Jon. He uses me in the same way when he wants Jon to do something.”

“You can come to Polis with me. Both of you.” Clarke offered to see whether maybe this was the plan. Earn Clarke’s trust, get back into Polis, back into Lexa’s good graces and then assassinate the Heda… Or become a very valuable spy in the enemy camp.

But Senna shook her head. “I will be a pariah. Not many share Solas’s need for Azgeda supremacy. But there are enough who do, because it is how it has always been. They would still come after us in Polis, for betraying our people.”

Clarke intently watched Senna, searching, still unable to trust the situation, but not having been able to find a lie yet.

“Were you there when Leksa fought Roan?” Clarke went for an emotional strike, trying to see how Senna would react.

She nodded stiffly.

“I had watched Leksa kill Nia… I didn’t feel anything but relief when she died. What kind of a daughter does that make me?” Senna thickly swallowed.

Clarke sighed, she was getting nowhere and her gut was telling her to believe Senna, while her head was telling her not to.

“Roan didn’t care that much for her either.” Clarke murmured. “I think the question is rather what kind of a mother that made Nia.”

“Roan had been a good man.” Senna sadly smiled. “I was happy to return to Azgeda with him as King, he said that he would make place for me as one of his advisors and I couldn’t wait to see Jon again, but with Nia dead, I felt that…”

“You needed to try and make it work with Titus…” Clarke finished knowingly.

Senna nodded solemnly. “So I decided to stay for a while, just a few weeks…”

“Den ething led em op skrish.” Clarke muttered.

Then everything went to sh*t.

Senna chuckled sardonically. “Leksa was shot by my father and I fled Polis with her. Jon helped us escape and returned to Azgeda to help settle the turmoil brought after losing both Nia and Roan so soon after the other. He had been the one to suggest Leksa and I stay hidden, that he would bring us news. Honestly, we hadn’t thought that Leksa would make it and I knew that if I brought her here in that state, that Solas would have killed her… So Jon visited when he could and we grew close with Leksa while we waited for her to remember. Though I missed Jon terribly, it had been nice to not be here in this place… But when Leksa didn’t remember… I thought I could do something good for my people without going to war. I thought that telling Solas about Leksa, that she would stand with Azgeda, that it would have him leave Jon and myself in peace while we elevated Azgeda once again and made our ancestors proud…”

Senna had kept Lexa from Solas for all of that time. Lexa had confirmed as much to Clarke.

Clarke decided not to be a bleeding heart and instead wait and see how it all played out; whether Senna could be trusted. She didn’t have anything to lose and if Senna was playing her, maybe she would mess up and allow Clarke the opportunity to escape.

“I will get you clothes; something with a hood, and a plate of food. You should sleep for a few hours, it’s a long way to Polis and I can only escort you till the path that will take me to Chester.”

Clarke nodded, still uncertain, even as her instincts screamed at her that she could trust the situation. She’d been wrong before. People did f*cked-up things for their people. But that was still what Senna was saying she wanted to do, right? She wanted Azgeda in the Coalition instead of a war that would undoubtedly kill many of them…

“We’ll leave just before sunrise, when the guard changes and the warriors are too tired to be vigilant. Most of the dangerous animals in the forest will also have gone to sleep.” Senna stood looking Clarke over. “I understand why you can’t trust me, Fleimkepa, but at the moment, you hardly have any other choice.”

She didn’t wait for a response, instead just turned on her heel and slipped out of the door.

Senna had returned with the clothes she’d promised and a plate of food, before quickly leaving again with a resolute promise to be back before sunrise. Clarke had pulled on the pants and tunic, hanging the hooded cloak over the chair. But she ignored the food, because it could be poisoned, and also because Clarke wasn’t sure she could stomach eating anything.

Instead, she spent the hours pacing the tiny room, thinking about Lexa, worrying about Lexa and whether she should trust Senna or not. If it was a trap, what could it be? Senna wasn’t intending on sticking around to re-establish a relationship with Lexa. She said she would only take Clarke to where the road forked and would then leave for the lake. If she wanted Clarke dead, she could’ve just let Solas send Lexa Clarke’s head… But then Senna had admitted that she’d gone to him with the plan to use Clarke as leverage, which meant that the scene at Solas’s throne – threatening to send her to Lexa in pieces - had just been a scare tactic to vindictively mess with Clarke’s head. No wonder Solas had so easily conceded when Senna had made the suggestion… He didn’t strike Clarke as the type to listen to reason.

Clarke was staring at the plate of food, wondering whether it had been laced with some contagion meant to be delivered by her to Polis, when the door creaked open and Clarke quickly grabbed the fork and pushed it up her sleeve watching Senna drag an unconscious guard in after her.

“Are you ready to go, Fleimkepa?” She whispered.

Clarke stared at her.

Senna rolled her eyes and handed Clarke a sheathed long sword.

“We don’t have time for this.” She frowned at the still made bed and uneaten plate of food, while Clarke absently put the fork back on the plate and tied the sword around her waist. “Had you slept at all?” Senna asked, giving her a scolding look.

Clarke’s mouth opened and then closed, completely dumbfounded. Senna had just given her a weapon. What?

“Come.” Senna hissed, putting on Clarke’s cloak and covering the blonde’s head. She then dragged the stunned Fleimkepa after her and out the door that was promptly locked behind them with the unconscious guard inside.

The sky was getting lighter as they slowly crept through the large fortress, Clarke’s survival instincts having kicked in to make her feet move, even as her head was still swimming. Senna seemed to know the guard schedule by heart as she deftly guided them down the corridors, halting when necessary to allow patrolling warriors to pass them unawares.

Finally, they exited into the dawn, somewhere at the side of the large structure and in between the fortress walls and the mountains.

“This will be the most difficult part.” Senna softly murmured, motioning toward the barracks when they reached the front of the building. “We will walk through them, and you will remain hooded. The warriors know me and they will hopefully not question your presence.”

“So you usually take strolls this early in the morning with suspiciously hooded figures?” Clarke dryly retorted.

“I am a known spy for the Haihefa and the Haiplana before him. They will not question any strangeness, as they hadn’t questioned the bound person I had brought to the Fortress yesterday. They know better than that.”

Clarke sighed in resignation. At least she was out of the Fortress. She would escape as soon as she had the chance.

“Okay.” Clarke made sure to pull the hood as far over her face as she could without blinding her completely. “Let’s go then.”

Upon entering the camps, every warrior in sight sprung to attention.

Clarke froze, at first it was only a loud murmur that spread as hundreds of voices blended together and then a tinny horn blared out over the valley. Clarke almost took off running instinctively, but then noticed the genuine surprise and terror on Senna’s face.

“What’s going on?” Clarke asked, regardless of the look that said that Senna had no answer.

“I don’t know…” Senna muttered, watching the warriors completely ignoring them and running toward the training field and fortress steps. “Perhaps we should use this distraction to get away?” She wisely suggested, but then their eyes caught sight of what everyone was running toward.

Clarke gasped at the rider on the horse galloping up the hundreds of steps, and onto a wide stone landing, where the horse rose onto its hind legs and whinnied loudly as the reins were pulled back, stopping their trek about two dozen steps away from the closed front doors of the fortress.

Dramaqueen.

The familiar black stallion was shining with sweat in the early morning light, his rider dressed in black, twin blades sheathed at her back and war paint on her face; dressed like she had been when she’d fought Roan. The remained horse restless beneath her, trotting anxiously in place as hordes of Azgeda warriors encircled them, filling up the fortress steps on each side of the landing, but none going any closer as the horse snorted out large clouds of mist from his nostrils, the same clouds that left Lexa’s mouth.

Honestly, Clarke was struck motionless by the disconcerting mixture of love, arousal and terror that hit her body all at once.

“Where is her army?” Senna glared at Clarke as though it had been Clarke’s plan that had failed.

Clarke scowled before she realised what Senna was saying and her head whipped toward the path through the forest in the distance, seeing not a single Coalition warrior in sight.

“sh*t.” Clarke muttered.

“Solas!” Lexa’s voice tore into Clarke’s chest and she snapped her head to where the Heda was screaming at the closed doors of the fortress. Her tone was commanding with a hint of hoarse desperation.

Clarke moved forward with her hand on the hilt of the sword she barely knew how to use. The large Azgeda warriors all had their weapons drawn and were staring dumbfounded at the Commander, uncertain what to do.

Clarke would have to fight her way through hundreds of them to get closer to Lexa.

“Solas!” With each heart wrenching scream, more emotion crept into Lexa’s voice and clenched in Clarke’s chest.

Probably sensing Clarke’s urgency grow as she recklessly tried to shove passed a gigantic warrior, Senna grabbed her arm and dragged Clarke back again, where she had barely made it a few feet through the massive throng.

“Let me go!” Clarke hissed, her voice low only because it had caught on the knot in her throat.

“We will not reach her that way; we will go from the side.” Senna pointed out the rocky path and Clarke followed obediently, after scanning it and seeing the route Senna intended to take.

“Solas!”

Clarke’s heart ached as Lexa’s desperate voice echoed through the icy cold overhangs, the acoustics of the mountain amplifying it tenfold.

“She’s going to get herself killed.” Senna muttered under her breath as she hurried up the rocks, Clarke grateful to not be wearing her robes as she intently followed after her, focusing on where Senna placed her feet and they made quick work of the journey, summiting on the front side of the fortress, where they would only need to move through a few warriors to get to the top of the twenty steps separating Lexa from the front doors, centre of the building.

“Solas!” Lexa screamed again and Clarke’s head snapped toward her at the vicious tone.

Lexa was gripping tightly onto the reins of her horse, visibly bristling. Her voice had been filled with so much rage that Clarke finally understood why there was such a wide circle around Lexa. The warriors were afraid of the Bulletproof Commander, resurrected from the dead, even when Lexa didn’t even acknowledge them, instead glaring at the doors which finally swung open.

The Azgeda council appeared first, looking nervous and confused, save for Jon, who looked petrified. Clarke and Senna pushed their way to the front, still a few yards to the side of the Fortress doors, thankfully small enough for the large warriors at their backs not to notice them while they anxiously focused on the furious Commander.

Solas emerged next, seemingly impassive, but Clarke saw the way his hands trembled before she noticed the groggy guard behind him, the one Senna had locked in her room. Clarke smirked when she realised what had taken Solas so long. He’d gone in search of his leverage, only to find Clarke missing. The thought would’ve brought more comfort was it not for the fact that she and Lexa were still in danger, surrounded by over a thousand Azgeda warriors, all looking to their King for instruction.

Lexa dismounted her horse, a tiny speck of black in a sea of grey, and glared up at Solas still standing atop the steps.

“Where is she?!” Lexa snarled, her chest heaving with adrenaline and rage, her eyes hard yet distraught, sparkling with wild fury.

Lexa must’ve thought that Clarke was dead…

Clarke almost revealed herself just to reassure Lexa, but that would just break the tentative and shocked stillness that had settled at the foot of the Azgeda mountains. Some of the warriors had become even more anxious when Lexa had dismounted. Clarke knew that if even one of them panicked and attacked, the rest would follow on pure instinct alone.

“I’m not sure who you are looking for, Heda.” Solas steadily called back, though visibly gulped thereafter. Nia must be turning in her grave.

“Azgeda have taken from me for the last time!” The veins in Lexa’s neck protruded in her ire and the straining tension in the army grew thicker. “Where is she?!” Lexa demanded again, the desperation back – the tiniest hope that Clarke might still be alive - and Clarke almost answered her, but instead watched a smirk growing on Solas’s face.

“Leave now, and no harm will come to her. She will be a prisoner of war as our Prince Roan had been. Azgeda will not submit to a Coalition led by a Commander corrupted by our enemy.”

Lexa’s dual blades sung as she swiftly drew them from her back, the sound causing both Clarke’s stomach and heart to twist in fear and anticipation as the Azgeda warriors stood to attention: Postures defensive as they waited on Solas’s command.

Clarke’s mind ran a mile a minute as she tried to figure out how in the hell she and Lexa were going to make it out of this one alive. They were smack in the middle of a giant enemy army. Lexa was a great warrior, but Clarke was nothing if not realistic. This was not a battle Lexa could win. Not to mention that Lexa was clearly not acting her usual rational and logical self…

“Warriors of Azgeda!” Lexa had turned her attention to the army, gaze icy, weapons still clutched in either hand. “As Heda, I have welcomed you into my Coalition; repeatedly I have forgiven your leaders there acts against me to save you from a war I had been entitled to enforce as a result of their mutiny. But not anymore!” Her glare seemed to cause a Mexican Wave of Terror wherever it landed. “I am here to challenge Solas kom Azgedakru who had abducted the Fleimkepa from Polis.” Clarke tore her eyes away from Lexa – magnificent in her intensity – and watched as the Council turned surprised expressions to Solas, affirming what Clarke had suspected: They hadn’t known of the plan. Solas was most likely intending on acting the honest hero of his people once he had extorted everything he wanted out of Lexa.

“Fight me!” Lexa yelled at Solas, whose smirk only broadened.

Yep, he wasn’t stupid enough to fight Lexa.

“Kill her!” He predictably ordered and Clarke had to press both hands over her mouth to keep her scream inside, her heart feeling as though it had ruptured.

Lexa bent into a defensive stance, one blade extended in front of her, the other expertly twirled and brought up above her head. The first wave of warriors visibly faltered at the image and Clarke felt certain she was having a heart attack. Her chest ached while it heaved as Clarke gulped down oxygen, trying to stay calm, trying to look for a way to be of help. Thankful that she was terrified enough to not be able to move her legs, even when the rest of her wanted nothing more than to run toward Lexa.

But distracting Lexa in that moment would only make things worse.

“Is this the proud Azgeda army!?” Lexa shouted as she gutted the first warrior and sliced through the torso of another. “You blindly follow a coward who will not accept an honourable challenge!” The next cut was viciously across a warrior’s throat, blood spewing from his neck like a gory fountain, while Lexa psychotically screamed at the rest.

“My fight is not with you!” Lexa yelled and plunged both swords into the chest of another brave -stupid - warrior who thought he could attack her from behind. “But I will make sure to kill as many of you as I can if you stand between me and vengeance!” She finished hacking off the arm of another stubborn soul, adding to the growing pool of blood, limbs and viscera, accumulating at her feet.

Clarke watched the horrifying scene and took in the stunned soldiers who had halted their attack for the moment - thankfully crowded so tightly together, it prevented them from attacking all at once. Lexa stood in between the mutilated bodies, back rigid and bloodied swords grotesquely dripping, poised and waiting and Clarke realised what Lexa was doing.

Lexa thought that Clarke was dead, but Lexa had hope that she might not be. Lexa was purposely killing the warriors in that vicious way to intimidate an entire f*cking army and it was working. Lexa had said that she was there for vengeance. Not justice. Vengeance. The word so personal in its intent. And Clarke could see it in the way Lexa glared up at Solas, with a disgusted hatred Clarke hadn’t ever seen on her beautiful face. The closest had been when Lexa had discovered the massacred Peacekeepers and found out who had murdered them and why.

Clarke clenched her jaw as her mind rapidly worked. Lexa had unknowingly provided Clarke with enough time to come up with a plan.

“Senna.” Clarke whispered and the woman who’d been staring at Lexa with wide-eyed worry, startled as she turned to her, seemingly having forgotten that Clarke was even there.

“Leksa is going to die if we don’t do something.”

Senna nodded, eyes shifting to the Heda again. All three of them were going to die, probably Jon too.

“And she’s going to be taking a lot of your people down with her.”

“Solas will not fight her.” Senna needlessly confirmed.

“I know. That’s why I need you to make a choice now. One that will save Leksa and your people, and gain them the Heda’s protection in the Coalition.”

Senna looked dubious but curious, and Clarke ducked their heads together, hurriedly whispering her short and desperate plan.

“You allow this coward to lead you!?” Lexa furiously shouted at the stunned army, whilst accusingly pointing one of her bloodied swords at the fuming King of Azgeda. Causing enough of a distraction for Senna to easily have snuck off and weave her way toward her destination, unnoticed.

“Attack her!” Solas screamed again. “I order you to kill her!”

“He took the Fleimkepa!” Lexa shouted and the few who had looked to obey, halted. “The Leader of the Circle of the Flame stands above all others! He has taken her from Polis!” Lexa’s eyes managed to darken even further in fury. “He has taken her from me!”

Clarke drew in a shuddering breath, wishing she could just show herself to Lexa, just reassure her that she was alive and to take away that heart-breaking pain in Lexa’s voice… The Azgeda warriors seemed to notice the same pain too.

“Oso soudo wan op kos Haihefa don hon niron kom Heda?” Clarke urgently and loudly whispered into the torsos of the bodies at her back, keeping her face hidden. “Em na frag oso op taim. Kongeda wan op hashta kikas.” The fear and doubt in her voice was not an act at all.

We must die because the king took the Commander’s lover? She will kill us all. The Coalition will kill the survivors.

Clarke listened to the murmur that spread on her side of the top of the steps, hoping to create some more doubt while she waited on Senna. If they attacked Lexa again, Clarke would draw the sword she couldn’t use and go to help her. Lexa’s favourite horse was still standing nearby; as calm as the Commander usually was during tense situations. Maybe if Clarke screamed like a maniac it would be enough of a distraction to buy her and Lexa some time to get onto him and ride off. Hopefully no spears and arrows would follow their retreat, but Clarke doubted they’d make it through the hundreds of warriors crowding the steps all the way down and far into the training fields.

Lexa was tightly surrounded; there was nowhere to go.

Even if Clarke was forced to execute such and insane plan, Lexa seemed unhinged enough to completely freeze if Clarke were to start running at her in that moment, so Clarke just hoped that Senna would f*cking come through. Never in her wildest dreams had Clarke thought that she would need to place so much trust in a woman she’d once threatened to kick off of the Throne Room’s balcony.

“This is your leader!?” Lexa’s face pulled in disgust, probably the most emotion her people had ever seen expressed by her in public. Enough emotion for many of them to suspiciously stare at Solas who had turned entirely red, fists clenched at his side, but Nia’s sword remained sheathed at his hip.

He was the kind of man who would do anything to survive. Solas would send his entire army to certain death if it meant he could live a little bit longer. He was as disgusting as Lexa’s face would suggest and reminded Clarke a lot of Cage Wallace. Clarke knew the only reason Lexa wasn’t fighting her way too him was because she really didn’t want more innocent people to die. And more than that, Lexa didn’t want to be stopped before she could kill Solas herself.

“Gonplei ai, Bushhada!” The Heda of the Thirteen Clans viciously growled.

Fight me, Coward!

Solas took an instinctive step back at the venom laced command and Lexa was like a predator seeing her prey running. She started forward, the warriors uncertain enough at this point to allow her a few steps before Lexa came to a grinding halt, eyes flashing in confusion.

Clarke, who had been watching Lexa’s every move with her sword drawn and ready, followed the gaze and smirked when she saw the tip of the long sword sticking out of Solas’s chest.

A hush fell over the army, which turned into a loud murmur when Solas’s dead body fell forward and Senna remained standing, two thirds of the Azgeda Council at her back in a blatant show of support.

Clarke continued to hold her breath as she turned to look at Lexa, whose eyes were narrowed, still hard, but face now expressionless as she took in her former friend.

Senna held up her hands in surrender, moving slowly forward, eyes remaining fixed on Lexa, even as she bent down to unsheathe the Sword of Azgeda from Solas’s side.

Lexa tensed and Senna halted where she’d taken a step toward the still bristling Commander.

“I am Senna! Daughter of Fleimkepa Titus kom Trikru and Haiplana Nia kom Azgeda. Today I claim my birth right to become leader of my people!” She addressed the crowd, the sword shaking in her hand and Clarke silently willed her to stay strong, to not show them the doubt she knew Senna still felt. Doubt placed there by Nia through years of emotional abuse.

“Is there anyone who will confirm my claim?!” Senna called out and the six councilmen and women at her back – a mix of generals and advisors - stepped forward.

Jon stood out most as he couldn’t hide the beam of pride as he lovingly stared at the back of Senna’s head.

“Senna kom Azgeda speaks true!” One of the generals called out. Clarke had instructed Senna to have him be the one to affirm her claim. As one of four veteran generals on the council, he was respected by the warriors who still stood concerned and confused at all the change happening around them, especially with the Heda maintaining that murderous glint even with Solas’s body bleeding out over the steps.

“Is there anyone who wishes to challenge my claim?!” Senna’s voice slightly quavered and Clarke watched as Jon imperceptibly touched her back; watched the way Senna’s eyes fluttered, before her chin confidently lifted as she glared out over her people.

No one challenged her. Some knew who she was. Others were loyal to the various councilmembers at Senna’s back. But mostly – as Clarke had calculated – they were all too befuddled to say or do anything but stare.

Senna gave an authoritative nod at the silence, before holding Nia’s sword up, laid in both hands as though she was offering it to the deadly quiet Heda still glaring at her. Jon seemed to want to pull her back as Senna cautiously descended the steps toward Lexa and fell to her knees a few feet away, lifting the sword up above her head.

“As Queen of the Ice Nation, I swear my allegiance to Heda Leksa kom Trikru!” Senna’s voice rung out through the quiet that had settled at the foot of the mountains, head ducked and Clarke wished that Senna could’ve seen the sight of the entire Ice Nation army following her onto their knees in perfect uniformity, as only trained soldiers were capable of doing. Nobody, – not even Clarke - noticed that she was the only one standing amongst thousands. The warriors far off at the back didn’t even have to hear Senna, the gesture alone spoke volumes of her intent.

“Azgeda humbly asks to join the Commander’s Coalition as the Thirteenth Clan. We swear to honour the Heda’s laws as her faithful subjects and to fight in her name when she calls on her armies. I swear this oath on my blood and the blood of my ancestors.” Senna – remaining in her knelt position - sword still above her head - smoothly twisted the handle and slid her palm against the blade, blood dripping down her wrist and arm, but she kept the submissive pose, anxiously waiting for Lexa’s answer.

Clarke stared at Lexa’s face, watching those eyes flicker suspiciously, but the rage and grief hadn’t left her features and Clarke abruptly realised why, and almost facepalmed. Lexa still had no idea where Clarke was, Lexa could care less about Azgeda joining the Coalition. Clarke noted the way Lexa’s grip on her swords tightened, and her confusion turned back to cold fury. Lexa was most likely wondering how big a part Senna had played in the abduction, whether Clarke was dead and if Azgeda kneeling now was one final ploy.

Clarke stepped forward.

Lexa – ever vigilant – instantly looked toward the movement, probably anticipating an attack and Clarke quickly lifted the hood off of her head, knowing how skilfully precise the Heda was with projectile weapons.

Nobody noticed, everyone’s eyes were firmly fixed to the ground, postures growing more rigid the longer the Heda took to answer their new Queen. So they also didn’t notice the way Lexa slightly stumbled backward, her swords almost slipping from her grip as her body went slack and the relief visibly washed over her. Lexa’s eyes shot full tears and Clarke just wanted to run toward her, but they couldn’t, they still had Azgeda to deal with. So Clarke gave Lexa a reassuring smile and nodded her head toward Senna who had begun to noticeably shake under the strain of keeping the sword up and probably the anxiety caused by Lexa’s prolonged silence.

Lexa glared down at Senna and then looked to Clarke again, jaws clenching and eyes questioning. Clarke shook her head with a smile. Lexa was being ridiculous if she would kill Senna at this stage if Clarke were to only indicate that Senna was involved in her abduction. Clarke rolled her eyes and then narrowed them in a scolding look, motioning for Lexa to get on with it.

They were going to have a long talk about running alone into enemy territory when one had a perfectly good and ready army waiting outside their gates to accompany them.

Lexa just grinned her relief at Clarke, looking sort of drunk, before fondly staring down at Senna. Clarke smiled too, knowing how much it meant to Lexa that their friendship hadn’t been a lie.

And then the Commander sheathed her swords at her back and pulled on her Heda mask and Clarke’s spine tingled as she watched the striking transformation in awe. Lexa had many sides she selectively showed in various situations, and Clarke loved every single one of them.

The Heda pulled her knife from her thigh and then raised her left hand in the air, palm up.

“We bind ourselves in blood!” Lexa loudly and clearly accepted, cutting across her palm, black blood spilling out that for once didn’t make Clarke nauseous, only slightly lightheaded.

She startled at the sound of over a thousand blades clattering and singing before the kneeling Azgeda warriors lifted their hands and returned the Heda’s vow and gesture:

“Oso tai choda op kom jus!” Their voices echoed through the mountains.

Lexa looked out over them and then back to Senna, whose head was still bowed down low.

“Rise, Queen Senna of the Ice Nation. Your people are welcomed in the Heda’s Coalition.”

Senna rose and then very unexpectedly presented Lexa with the Sword of Azgeda. Clarke couldn’t hear what she said, but Lexa’s head dipped, a tender smile playing at the corners of her lips, before she accepted the blade and thrusted its’ tip into the air.

The Azgeda warriors all vigorously cheered; their immense relief causing an overjoyed reaction. Warriors or not, they didn’t want an unnecessary war any more than the rest of the clans did. They just wanted their loved ones safe and fed.

Clarke’s eyes met Lexa’s over the rowdy noise where she still stood in place, watching some of the Azgeda advisors and generals walking forward with happy faces.

Clarke wanted to just run passed them all and jump into Lexa’s arms and kiss her until they ran out of breath, but she slowly descended the steps, Lexa’s eyes not leaving her, even as the Council expressed their deference. Lexa didn’t acknowledge anyone else, until Clarke was close enough for a strong arm to slide across her back and tenderly pull her into Lexa’s body.

They said nothing as Lexa quietly nuzzled her face into Clarke’s hair and brushed her nose against Clarke’s cheek, before placing a loving kiss onto Clarke’s forehead. Clarke hummed and finally released a long breath when Lexa’s hand trailed down her arm and clasped onto hers.

They both then turned to Senna with stoic expressions, who instantly got the message.

They still had work to do. The Ice Nation needed to be stabilized and then negotiations needed to be had to determine their position in the Coalition. So Senna turned around, barking out orders to her generals - with a confidence that would have had Clarke impressed was she not so finely in tuned to the woman at her side instead - and then led the Heda and Fleimkepa into the Ice Nation Fortress, to finally restore peace to the Thirteen Clans.

Lexa sat stiffly on the Azgeda throne and Clarke in a chair at her side, because Lexa had firmly insisted on it. They had no guards with them, no Riley and Ryder to watch their backs, so Lexa needed Clarke as close as Clarke needed to be to her. The meeting was finally due to start after Clarke had hurriedly informed Lexa of everything that had happened since Lexa had left her in the stables, while also quickly cleaning and dressing the wound on the Commander’s palm.

The room held about fifty people, clearly divided by an aisle separating them as they stood in opposition. It was a slight relief to note that Senna’s side held about seventy-five per cent of the rooms occupants.

Clarke stood from her chair, taking her usual place at Lexa’s right - strangely missing her ugly robes, but didn’t want to waste time sending for them - and started the meeting with a short summary as to why Solas was now dead. Not only did he abduct the holy Fleimkepa, he’d also sent someone to assassinate the Heda. With a gun. He was an enemy of the Coalition and it was time for Azgeda to decide whether they would remain an enemy too. He had been a coward, and Queen Senna – embarrassed for Azgeda – had given him a death deserving of such.

Clarke ignored the glares coming from one corner, which were quickly averted when the Commander murderously glared right back.

Clarke knew Lexa was contemplating how to get them safely out of Azgeda whilst still maintaining the new alliance. They needed to make sure that Senna wouldn’t immediately be overthrown after their departure and they also needed to reassure the leaders and officials expectantly staring at them that what Solas had been feeding them about the Coalition wasn’t true. That the Heda would protect them just like she was doing with all the other clans.

Lexa was quiet though. She wouldn’t speak until she was ready. Until she knew what she would say and why she was saying it. But Lexa was no doubt still recovering from her frantic state at Clarke’s abduction and seemed to still only be focused on any possible threats in the room.

Lexa was a planner; methodical in the execution of her brilliant strategies. But Clarke was the one who could quickly spin an unexpected situation in her favour. It was how she’d managed to survive on the Ground and it was the one thing she excelled at over Lexa. It was also what made them so effective together. Lexa carefully outlined and achieved their long-term goals while Clarke smoothly dealt with the short-term crisis that unexpectedly jumped in their way toward their endgame.

Clarke didn’t have to have been in Polis to know that Lexa had stormed the Azgeda Fortress with no plan other than running her swords through Solas for taking Clarke from her. After all the forgiveness Lexa needed to muster when Costia had been murdered, Clarke wasn’t surprised that Lexa had completely snapped when she thought it had happened a second time.

Clarke internally smirked that the Skaikru had probably survived their first encounter with the Commander’s army because of how novel they were to Lexa… The Heda hadn’t planned on Clarke Griffin walking into her tent at all… Clarke was Lexa’s weakness, but since Lexa’s return, Clarke had learned that she could be her strength too and was determined to remain as such.

So, knowing Lexa’s campaign by heart and wholeheartedly supporting and believing it, Clarke relayed the Heda’s expectations to Senna and asked about the Ice Nation’s needs, offering proposals of solutions, at which point Lexa started to softly make suggestions to Clarke – seemingly not wanting to interrupt the Fleimkepa’s flow - which Clarke then loudly conveyed to their audience.

Azgeda had been ruled by a monarchy for so long, that Senna’s blood claim would most likely continue to keep her in power. That was the hope at least; that she would stay on the Ice Nation throne until the Coalition proved themselves true allies and Senna’s move that day was shown to have been made for her people.

Bless his soul, because it seemed as though Jon had rallied even more officials in support of Senna than there was opposition, and things were going a lot better than Clarke had expected.

But then Lexa abruptly rose from the throne, brows creasing and considering that she had the most adorably tiny ears, Clarke was surprised that Lexa had been the first to hear the war drums beating in the distance, before a warrior came bursting through the doors, eyes wide and frightened until they landed on Lexa staring at him and he immediately fell to his knees.

“Apologies, Heda!” He shouted. “But your armies are here!”

Lexa’s brows rose in surprise, clearly not having expected that. She took a few steps toward the doors and then realised Clarke wasn’t following yet and looked back. Clarke almost rolled her eyes, until she remembered pulling Lexa from a tree because she was scared Lexa would fall and break her neck and Clarke would lose her again after just having gotten her back. So Clarke smiled and slipped her hand into Lexa’s and they walked out the doors of the Azgeda Fortress and back onto the steps that had already been cleared of bodies.

The war drums were much louder and the massive army closer, already visible as they marched up the road from Polis and came streaming out of the forest in perfectly synchronized rows.

Clarke looked up at Lexa whose eyes were glistening as they flickered over the army and instantly knew that Lexa hadn’t asked them to come. That Lexa hadn’t merely rode ahead and they’d only now caught up to her.

Clarke smiled and wrapped her arms around Lexa as they watched and waited while the leaders of the twelve clans – and Abby - approached the fortress on horseback.

They feast, because Azgeda felt more secure surrounded by their allies.

Senna was welcomed into the Coalition after they heard that she’d killed Solas and why. She was still a bit awkward, not yet as confident as the other leaders. But Jon remained at her side, protective and with a stern awareness that Clarke hadn’t thought him capable of. It just showed what a motivation it was to fight for something – someone – you believed in.

It had taken discussions with a few, but Clarke had finally gotten an idea of what had happened in Polis after her kidnapping.

That morning, after Riley and Ryder had gone with Lexa to the campsites, the remaining guard was killed by the men accompanying Senna. It had been three hours later that Abby - upset at being ignored by the Fleimkepa - started searching for her, but soon stopped herself, not wanting to interrupt Clarke’s duties, intent on being the supportive mother and not the interfering one.

Since Clarke was constantly seemingly everywhere at once, everyone just assumed that she was busy with something other than them. It was only when Lexa returned that evening, in anticipation of a supper of her favourite things to eat, – and the food Clarke had promised to have prepared – that it became evident that the Fleimkepa was missing. Because everyone knew that Clarke would have been there to greet Lexa returning home.

Beside herself, the Heda organised a search of the Tower from top to bottom, floor by floor, whilst also sending out groups of guards to search Polis. Octavia said that after only discovering the hidden body of Clarke’s assassinated guard, Lexa disappeared to her room without a word to anyone, while Abby organised to widen the search, unwilling to give up.

The messenger from Senna arrived after midnight that evening and when they went to tell the Heda, Lexa had been gone already. Riley and Ryder finally spilled that the Commander had left with her swords and warpaint on, having had sworn them to secrecy and to remain in Polis just in case she was wrong. They’d only stayed because the Heda had made them promise to keep searching for Clarke, even though they knew it was because Lexa wanted to keep them safe as she had made peace with the fact that she wouldn’t be making it out of Azgeda alive, whether her plan to kill Solas failed or not.

Lexa had figured out who had taken Clarke, and given the Heda’s history with Azgeda, she’d mindlessly stormed the Fortress. It was stupid. So stupid. And it could’ve gone so wrong… Clarke wanted to scream at Lexa for not taking the army with her, but remembering the wild, distraught look Lexa had held as she called out for Solas, Clarke knew that rational thought was not what had driven the Heda’s actions. She also suspected that since Solas had chosen to strike such a personal blow, that Lexa would’ve felt as though she was abusing the Coalition’s army by instructing them to fight for her vengeance.

It was Indra who had first called for her generals, then the Plainriders, followed soon by everyone else. Kane didn’t have an army there, nor did the Trishana and Osias, but they’d marched with the armies regardless. Clarke smiled as she remembered the look on their faces when she told them that the Heda had single-handedly brought the Azgeda army to their knees.

Lexa was quiet during the festivities, only speaking when she relayed that Senna had already been smuggling Clarke to safety and then the coup Clarke had orchestrated to save them both, and Clarke rolled her eyes fondly as Lexa glared at her for not taking credit.

It didn’t matter, the Azgeda were all talking about how the Heda had stopped their army from attacking her with just a hard glare and by swiftly taking out a few of their best warriors. The story got more ridiculous the drunker everyone became and they’d already been high on relief, the tension having eased in the Azgeda Fortress for probably the first time in decades.

One warrior, at a table far in the back – a young Captain, Senna had told Clarke with a chuckle - actually got up onto a table, swaying in his drunken state and yelled out how he didn’t want to be a warrior, that he wanted to be a sheep farmer and professed his love for the Commander, begging Lexa to take him back to Polis with her, before his friends dragged him out of the hall, red-faced with embarrassment and fear.

Everyone laughed, but Lexa remained far-off and distracted, still subtly radiating with tension.

They were just finishing the meal Lexa had only shifted around on her plate - Clarke made a mental note to get something into her later when they were alone – that Lexa rose from her seat and the rowdy hall instantly fell silent. The Commander didn’t say anything, instead she held her hand out to Clarke.

Clarke confusedly took it and followed when she was gently tugged out of her chair.

Octavia and Luna loudly hollered their encouragement and everyone else took that as permission to cheer at them as they left the hall. Lexa barely seemed to register the catcalls and wolf-whistles as she intently focused on the exit, not noticing the bright red flush on Clarke’s cheeks that felt on fire when Clarke’s eyes landed on Abby’s flustered face.

A servant had hurried after them - having been sent by Senna - and nervously guided them to a large room that had been readied for their stay, while Riley and Ryder trailed them a few feet back. The young girl almost tripped over her feet trying to keep up with Lexa’s long purposeful strides, staring up at the Commander with awed eyes and a gaping mouth. She bowed down low when they reached their destination and Clarke had barely gotten out a Mochof to reassure the poor thing before she was pulled into the door that instantly slammed shut because her body was roughly pressed up against it.

Clarke moaned at the sharp ache of arousal that clenched between her thighs when Lexa desperately kissed her, strong hands urgently tearing off Clarke’s clothes. It took a few moments, but Clarke’s hands soon started their own mission after having just breathlessly been clinging onto Lexa.

They were naked in seconds, Lexa’s hoarse moans into her breasts causing Clarke to tremble with need. It didn’t help when Lexa picked her up and Clarke’s legs instinctively wrapped around Lexa’s hips and she was then carried toward the monstrous bed Senna had gifted them.

Clarke exhaled after Lexa smoothly lowered them onto the furs and eagerly spread her thighs when Lexa settled between them. The Heda had completed the action with such control and strength it caused another aching wave of arousal that started a low moan even before Lexa’s taught stomach purposely brushed against Clarke’s heated centre.

Lexa’s lips keenly attacked Clarke’s breasts and her fingers entered Clarke out of nowhere, causing Clarke to cry out in pleasure and arch off of the bed. Dizzily, Clarke rocked her hips into the slow, measured thrusts, whimpering in anticipation when Lexa mindlessly started kissing down her stomach.

And god, Lexa’s mouth…

Clarke looked down at the braided head of hair she’d taken hold of, gently tugging so that Lexa would look at her, just once, to make a connection… And as soon as the thought entered Clarke’s lust dazed brain, she remembered how off Lexa was acting and frowned.

“Leksa.” Clarke husked, her voice thick and needy.

Lexa curled her fingers and grazed her teeth over the spot just below Clarke’s navel, before soothing it with her tongue. Clarke would’ve climaxed instantly if she’d not been so concerned; if she hadn’t remembered just how close they’d come to dying. How reckless Lexa had been; riding into Azgeda without even wearing her battle armour.

“Leksa.” Clarke’s voice came out angry and Lexa stilled, her face buried into the softness of Clarke’s lower belly as though she was hiding it. “Look at me.” Clarke whispered, her breath catching when dark watery eyes slowly met hers. “Come here…” She rasped at the sight, her chest tightening as Lexa slowly crawled up her body, moulding their warm frames together, before resting on her elbows and then proceeded to intently stare at Clarke’s chin.

Clarke carefully cupped Lexa’s cheeks in her hands and tilted her head up, staring into wide blown pupils that rapidly travelled over Clarke’s face as though all Lexa was doing was just looking at Clarke with a hint of that same urgent desperation she’d held when she’d called out to Solas.

Clarke wanted to hold her, but Lexa had also scared the sh*t out of her that day.

“Please don’t ever do something that stupid again.” Clarke’s voice was pleading instead of scolding, but still Lexa’s gaze lowered to Clarke’s chin again; their faces still so close.

Clarke slipped one hand behind Lexa’s neck, gently massaging, in hopes to relax the body that had gone stiff as a board on top of her.

“You could’ve gotten yourself killed, Leksa.” Clarke’s voice broke and Lexa hunched in shame.

“I thought,” Lexa’s breath hitched, “I thought you were dead…” Her body started to violently tremble as she spoke, still not looking at Clarke. “I thought they – that they would send –

When two teardrops fell from Lexa’s eyes and onto Clarke’s cheeks, she lifted up and pressed their mouths together. Clarke knew exactly what Lexa had thought. That she would be receiving Clarke’s decapitated head in her bed.

“I know.” Clarke whispered, her own eyes and nose burning with tears. “But you can’t do that again, okay? What if I had been dead? And you died too? Our people need you, Leksa.”

Lexa’s gaze snapped up, watery and fiery all at once. Brilliantly green and intense. “I need you.” Lexa hoarsely proclaimed and somehow - in that moment - it felt like so much more than I love you.

Clarke rolled Lexa onto her back, kissing her deeply.

She’d shout more at Lexa when they were back home, but Clarke knew what Lexa needed then: To feel Clarke on her skin and taste her in her mouth. To have Clarke writhing against her body, rubbing herself on a smooth toned thigh and have Clarke slowly thrust into her, until Lexa completely shattered underneath Clarke’s devoted mouth and fingers, climaxing with tears of relief in her eyes and a silent and shuddering cry into the night.

Still not entirely comfortable in Azgeda, they woke early. The Heda - having found her voice again - greeted everyone and suavely thanked the clans for coming to her aid and held a quick meeting with the leaders, where Senna was officially inducted into the Coalition. Lexa left a few ambassadors and warriors of her own in Azgeda to help with the transition, even joking with Osias that he should accept the drunk captain as ambassador to his clan and teach him how to farm.

Everyone was in high spirits when they left Azgeda and set off to their homelands, wherever the road split the massive army. Senna was scheduled to arrive in Polis in four weeks for an update and Clarke was sort of looking forward to having her and Lexa reconnect. She didn’t think that Lexa had any friends, save for whatever was growing between her and Luna. And having her be true friends with the reigning Queen of Azgeda, would just ensure lasting peace. No one in their right mind would dare take on the combined armies of the Trikru and Azgeda.

Clarke felt light and hopeful. Something having had settled inside of her when she’d made love to Lexa the night before and had branded pretty purple promises into her skin. Promises to be careful, to not scare Lexa like that ever again. And once she finally seemed to be certain that Clarke was there and safe in her arms, Lexa returned the promise to not act like an idiot and almost give Clarke a stroke ever again, too.

They shared Lexa’s horse and road far ahead of the Polis guard, only Riley and Ryder a few yards behind them. And once they were welcomed home with loud cheers - because messengers had left Azgeda the day before to spread the news of peace to all of the clans - the Heda and Fleimkepa immediately disappeared to their floor.

Clarke had been the first to finally leave the room, craving the figs they had received from the Trikru. They’d been living on the plates and jugs the servants would leave outside their door.

When she returned from the kitchens though, Clarke momentarily forgot about the food in her hands and zeroed in on a naked Lexa, laying on her stomach in bed, light scratch marks proudly displayed on her back.

Clarke’s stomach clenched and she rubbed her thighs together, even as she rolled her eyes at herself. Instead of jumping Lexa again, Clarke undressed, and went to sit with her back against the headboard, placing the bowl of figs and platter of cold meats and cheeses on the bed between them.

Lexa didn’t look up, intently writing in the Journal of the First Commander.

“Gonna tell me what you’re writing in my Journal?” Clarke smirked.

“I’m adding a very important part to my story.” Lexa murmured, continuing her scribbling.

Clarke left her to her business and ate her figs, occasionally pressing food into Lexa’s mouth, not in any romantic sense, but solely for sustenance, to recharge Lexa for what was to come once Clarke built her energy up again. It was hard work keeping up with a Nightblood…

They’d given themselves another day. One more day of just the two of them and then they would focus on their people again.

It hadn’t stopped Clarke from grilling her guards earlier though, and she wondered why Lexa didn’t seem bothered, but then Clarke remembered that it was because Lexa had entrusted Polis to Clarke. That Lexa trusted Clarke…

So she sat back and smugly smirked while she perved on Lexa’s stunning body while she ate, until finally, Lexa placed her pencil down and looked at Clarke, who lifted an expectant eyebrow and held out her hand to see. Lexa fondly shook her head and smiled, but her eyes were wide and a little nervous when she handed the book over.

Clarke smirked when she read the title of the page, which faltered slightly when she read the rest.

Lexa had kept to the same structure that Clarke and the previous Fleimkepas used to document events in the Journal. It was a rigid narrative that Lexa hadn’t broken out of respect for the official text, and yet she’d still managed to add little endearments all over the entry that made Clarke’s chest swell with warmth.

“How do you even know this much about me…” Clarke absently murmured, her eyes flitting over the neat script on the page, realising that yes, she’d told Lexa about many of those events, even before Mount Weather. But certain particulars Lexa must’ve gotten from Abby and Octavia.

She chuckled, wondering how Lexa even knew what a sabbatical was, but gathered that she must’ve read it somewhere in one of the thousands of books on the Library Floor. It was hardly something anyone had done in over a century.

The amusem*nt left her face and Clarke’s eyes grew soft and watery, her smile bright and tremulous as she continued reading.

After going over the last sentence more than a few times, needing to be sure, Clarke placed the Journal on the floor, and moved the platter and bowl away too, before her eyes met Lexa’s. The Commander was intently staring back, questioning green eyes glittering anxiously and filled with so much hope and love that Clarke immediately flew at her.

She pinned Lexa to the bed and fervently kissed her with all the love she felt in that moment, smiling wildly when Lexa squirmed and giggled at the kisses Clarke peppered all over her face and neck…

They weren’t seen by their people for another three days.

Chapter 15

Chapter Text

Biography of Klark kom Skaikru: Ninth Fleimkepa to The Circle of the Flame

as written by Leksa kom Trikru, Twenty-fifth Commander of the Blood

10 October, 2131: Klark kom Skaikru is born to Jake and Abigail Griffin - Ark Station (In Space).

16 June, 2145: Her painting of Earth is honoured in the Ark’s Museum of Fine Art.

15 January, 2146: Becomes a Healer’s apprentice to Abigail kom Skaikru.

12 August, 2148: Is arrested for treason and placed in solitary confinement for 11 months when she and her father attempt to warn their people that their spaceship is running low on oxygen and their people would all soon die.

Jake Griffin is executed because of his sense of morality and bravery.

13 September, 2149: Falls from the Sky and onto Trikru lands, to see whether their people could survive on Earth, which they believed uninhabitable after the bombs which exploded during the time of Bekka Pramheda.

10 October, 2149: Successfully defends her people as leader, against 300 Trikru warriors at the Battle of the Dropship and is taken prisoner by the Maunon.

19 October, 2149: Forms an alliance with Onya kom Trikru honoured general of the Heda’s armies, and does what no one before has ever done, and escapes the Mountain alive. Onya is mistakenly killed on their journey home, but not before agreeing that the Coalition should work with the Skaikru to defeat the Maunon.

21 October, 2149: Cures a Ripa from the Maunon poison afflicting him and negotiates terms of an alliance with Commander Leksa kom Trikru, to fight together against the Maunon threat.

2 November, 2149: After Heda Leksa negotiates a truce with the Maunon, exchanging the lives of hundreds of her people for 47 Skaikru, Klark kom Skaikru enters the Mountain herself and defeats the Maunon, saving her people, and all of the clans, from decades of reapings.

3 November, 2149 – 27 January 2150: Klark kom Skaikru went on sabbatical in the Trikru Forest, living off the dangerous lands and defending herself against the fierce Pauna and Pantera who dared enter her territory. Three months later, she emerges as the legendary Wanheda: Mountain Slayer.

4 February, 2150: Skaikru joins the Coalition and Klark becomes Ambassador of the Thirteenth Clan.

18 February, 2150: After Heda Leksa’s presumed death, Fleimkepa Titus entrusts Klark with The Flame so that she may protect it against A.L.I.E.: an enemy to all of the clans, aiming to capture our people’s minds and trap them in the City of Light.

24 February, 2150: Unable to find a suitable Natblida, Klark takes The Flame into herself and Ascends like a Commander, to work with Bekka Pramheda and destroy the City of Light forever, saving all of the clans for the second time in her young life.

26 February 2150: Becomes Fleimkepa, accepts the tattoos and makes her vows to The Circle of the Flame. For the next year, Fleimkepa Klark gathers what Natblidas she can find in Polis, fostering an eight clan alliance in hopes to rebuild the fallen Coalition and saving hundreds of lives from starvation because of the war brewing in the North, where Haihefa Solas kom Azgeda was gearing up to defy tradition and take Polis without being of the Blood.

19 March, 2151: After Heda Leksa returns to Polis with no memory, she receives the guidance and protection, of Fleimkepa Klark, who on this day reinserts The Flame and returns Leksa'smemories to her. Marking Heda Leksa’s second Ascension Day.

23 April, 2151: Leads a Summit held to re-establish the Coalition and through the alliances kept up by Fleimkepa Klark, twelve clans swear their allegiance to the Coalition once again. One answers by shooting a gun at the Heda. Fleimkepa Klark jumps in front of the path of the bullet to protect the Heda and remains unharmed, while Ekko kom Azgeda is taken out.

27 April, 2151: Fleimkepa Klark is kidnapped by Azgeda and taken to Haihefa Solas to be used as leverage to control Heda Leksa, having learnt of the Commander’s unequivocal love for Fleimkepa Klark.

28 April, 2151: While in captivity, Fleimkepa Klark finds the true heir to the Azgeda throne and when Heda Leksa comes to take Fleimkepa Klark back home, Haiplana Senna kom Azgeda rises by killing Solas and usurping the Azgeda throne. Together, the new Haiplana, the Heda and Fleimkepa, are able to finally negotiate PEACE amongst all of the Thirteen Clans.

1 May 2151: Leksa kom Trikru asks Klark Kom Skaikru to be hers forever.