Chapter Text
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
This is it.
Clarke grips the table in the Commander’s tent and closes her eyes, focusing on breathing normally.
She feels hands on her waist, and a cool breath fluttering over the back of her neck.
‘I trust you, Clarke.’
‘With what?’
‘My people. Your people….Our. People.’
‘Last time I led an army it ended with me killing an entire population of people,’ Clarke says. She stutters over the last part.
‘Whatever happened last time is behind us. We are both different people than we were then. We can do this together, whatever happens.’
Clarke turns around abruptly in Lexa’s arms.
‘You must keep yourself safe, Lexa. The first thing he’ll do is look for you. I know you want to help, but you have to hide, Lex.’
‘Clarke if I don’t show my face to the army they’re going to think something’s wrong. They could consider it a weakness that I hide. That I’m vulnerable.
Clarke stops for a minute and looks down.
Of course. Zakur isn’t stupid. He’d figure out that something was up if she wasn’t right at the front of that battle line.
‘Yeah.’
‘Clarke? Why can’t you look me in the eye?’
Lexa puts a finger under Clarke’s chin. Eventually, Clarke caves and peers right into Lexa’s waiting green eyes, alight with concern and…
Could that be love?
‘I can’t lose you again,’ Clarke mutters under her breath, her eyes shining with new tears. Will they ever stop?
‘You won’t, Clarke. I can’t promise that you won’t, but I know that I’ll do everything to stay on this earth for you. That I can promise you.’
Clarke is overcome with a surge of what she’s not sure is love, but might well be.
She captures Lexa’s lips forcefully, pulling her closer by slipping her hand round the back of her neck. Lexa pulls right back, wrapping an arm around her neck completely and tightening the hand that’s on her waist. Clarke runs her tongue along Lexa’s lip and the Commander opens her mouth widely in response, their tongues touching and their bodies getting ever closer.
It goes on for what feels like hours, until Clarke pulls away slowly.
‘We have to get ready,’ she whispers against her lover’s lips, her eyes still half closed. It’s never felt so sensual, and if the circumstances were different… who knows what would have happened.
‘I have an idea.’
~()~
‘Bellamy, are we almost ready at the border?’
‘The army’s just lining up.’
‘Alright. The archers on the mountain are ready.’
‘Do we have a visual?’
‘No, not yet. Can’t be far though, Bellamy.’
‘Alright Indra, thank you.’
Bellamy clicks the radio to standby and walks over to Octavia.
‘They’re ready up top, no visual on the army yet. We’re almost ready down here.’
Monty runs over to them, having sprinted down the line of the army.
‘We’re ready.’
‘Right. Bellamy, go and get Clarke and Lexa, bring them to the front line. I’ll get the vampires.’
Octavia runs through the army, straight for the entrance to the cave. They’d settled a little closer to TonDC to wait for the alert, and they are ready when Octavia finally arrives.
‘They’re on their way, and the army’s ready. Could you come with me? I’ll show you your position.’
‘Okay -‘
‘Wait.’
Carmilla puts a finger up.
‘Carm, please,’ Laura says, turning to her with a concerned look on her face.
‘Where’s Lexa?’
‘Mircalla…’
‘Where is she?’
Octavia purses her lips.
‘She’ll be at the front line almost as soon as you get there.’
Before she can even shift from one foot to the other, Mircalla is at least halfway there.
Laura walks over to her and leans down in front of her, offering her back.
‘Get on.’
‘Seriously?’
‘We’ll be there in less than a minute.’
Octavia simply huffs, climbing onto Laura’s back and gripping on for dear life as they glide through the forest at lightning speed.
She guesses having vampiric allies is pretty useful.
~()~
Bellamy is standing outside the tent of the two Commanders.
‘It’s time to go guys.’
A few seconds pass, and Lexa emerges from the tent, clad in her battle gear and her signature war paint.
It’s Clarke that surprises Bellamy the most.
Wearing a stoic expression on her face, she walks out of the tent. She’s wearing battle gear that could intimidate even the strongest of men and women, and she is armed with a sword at one side and a pistol on the other.
Her war paint is different to Lexa’s - one spike protrudes up from her eye, halfway up her forehead before stopping. Down from her eye, there are two spikes that travel diagonally across her face, then cross just in line with her cheekbones. It’s the same on both eyes, and she looks as striking as Lexa did when she first looked up from her throne.
Bellamy doesn’t really compute anything for a second.
‘Eyes off her, Bellamy. Let’s go,’ Lexa says with a small smirk, following Clarke as she walks confidently though the army.
When they all reach the front line, the vampires are there waiting for them, Octavia loitering with Monty in the background.
When Lexa sees Mircalla, she stops dead in her tracks.
‘Lexa,’ the vampire says immediately, walking over to the Commander. She stops in front of her, not wanting to push any boundaries.
‘I remember your face. Why do I remember your face?’
‘I was a… guide, of sorts. But that is a story for a different time, Heda. Now,’ she puts a hand on Lexa’s upper arm, who looks down to where it’s covered her armour, ‘we fight.’
Clarke steps over to the exchange between the Commander and the vampire, and nods at the two vampires in her line of sight.
‘You are the TuHeda they have been talking about for days.’
‘My name is Clarke Griffin. You must be Laura.’
‘Yes,’ Laura says, stepping forward so she’s next to Mircalla.
‘This is Mircalla, my mate.’
Mircalla nods at Clarke the way the TuHeda had done just a moment ago, and it is not lost on Clarke that this is far more respect than has been given to anybody else, judging by the reaction of the Blake siblings - confusion.
‘We are honoured to have you in our battle line.’
Laura nods heartily, and takes Mircalla’s hand.
Mircalla’s head whips round to Laura’s, noticing her hand is being squeezed tightly.
‘What is it, Laur?’
‘They’re not far.’
Just on cue, Bellamy’s radio sparks into life.
‘Bellamy, we have a visual. They’re moving down into the forest, fast. You don’t have long, not more than five minutes. Ready the troops.’
‘Got it. I’ll pass you to Clarke,’ he says, giving the radio to the TuHeda, who stares into the empty tree line in front of them.
‘This is really happening.’
‘Clarke,’ he says, taking her head in his hands softly. ‘You can do this. We’re prepared and we’re more powerful.’
It takes Clarke a second to meet his eyes. ‘I know.’
He pulls her into a tight hug for a second, then releases her as quickly as he held her.
‘Good luck,’ he says, dropping his arm from hers and running down the army line to join Monty. Octavia has joined the left flank on the other side. Lincoln is with Indra on the mountain ridge with the other archers and gunners. At least he’ll be safer up there for now.
‘Laura, can you give me distance updates on the tribe? I’ll need to know when they can fire the first ammunition.’
‘Yes. Right now it’s over a kilometre, but it’s dropping. Fast.’
‘Okay. Positions,’ she bellows, mounting the horse readied for her and watching as Lexa mounts hers with ease.
Muscle memory really is underrated, Clarke thinks.
‘Mircalla?’ Lexa asks, looking down at the vampire by her side.
‘Yes, Lexa?’
‘Could you stay by Octavia before the fight? If you are the guide you say, she really could use some guidance in such a turbulent hour.’
‘And you, Heda?’
Lexa looks up again, at Clarke, who is talking to Laura about plans for the archers, a radio to her mouth so she can talk to Indra as well.
‘If I need guidance, I will look to my second in command.’
Mircalla cannot hold back a small smirk, and walks around the horse to Laura. She puts a hand on the back of the smaller woman’s neck, putting their foreheads together.
‘I love you, Lauronica Mars,’ Mircalla whispers so low that not even Clarke can hear, and Laura smiles tearily.
‘You too, you stupid vampire.’
Laura doesn’t watch as her soulmate speeds away down the left line to join Octavia.
A minute later, Laura speaks again.
‘800 metres.’
Indra sparks to life on the radio.
‘They’re getting close, almost within firing range, do I have permission.’
‘Wait.’
‘600 metres!’
The JusTriKru can be seen now, and they’re coming at a frightening speed.
‘500 metres.’ Laura sounds worried now.
‘Clarke! We’ll be firing too close to you!’
‘Hang on!’
Clarke turns to Lexa, who swivels her head towards the TuHeda. The former Commander of the Sky People takes a stab in the dark.
‘To those we’ve lost.’
Lexa’s eyes widen slightly, but she doesn’t flinch.
‘And to peace we shall soon find.’
Clarke turns back to see the JusTriKru.
‘400 metres!’
Her mind turns silent.
Breathe out.
‘Fire.’
As soon as the hail of bullets and arrows hits the first line of the JusTriKru, she sees red, and cries out with all she has.
‘Attack!’
It was like an unstoppable wave, one that surfers would have once been overcome by in the distant blue oceans. Or maybe even a wall that moved further and further, closing in until it crushed everything in its path.
They were a force that would not be brought down.
The horses in front charge the line, and Clarke gets ready to bring her sword down. She sees Lexa, who although might be terrified inside does not show it. It reminds her of the Commander she once allied with in battle. The one that would do anything for her people.
It’s at that moment she realises, just before she hits the first soldiers, that that is where her problem lies.
They are the same person. Memories don’t mean nothing, but they mean little when it comes to muscle memory, and the most basic human instincts a person possesses.
Lexa is still Heda. Even without all her memories.
She’s still the terrifying Queen.
Clarke uses that in her head to spur her on.
She summons all her strength and swings herself off her horse, kicking a warrior in the head then landing feet first, sword in hand and at the ready for the huge warriors that run at her full steam.
She begins to fight, almost like a rhythmic dance that was choreographed just for her. She takes account of all sides, never neglecting an angle, and almost always fighting more than one person at once.
Having spent so long alone, she’d developed her sword fighting skills massively, and in the last days since returning to TonDC she’d perfected them with more than one opponent.
She is masterful, and quick. Men are cut down left and right, and she slices a warrior’s stomach before looking around momentarily for Lexa.
She sees her, grabbing a man from behind who was at least half a foot taller than her, using all her upper body strength as she dangled from his shoulders to snap his neck, setting herself down on the ground as the soldier fell roughly to his knees.
Clarke continues to fight, knowing they may just come out of this alive.
~()~
Thud.
Octavia cuts down another man twice her size but she’s still less than satisfied with her work. She turns around and continues to fend off warrior after warrior, using her sword in an expert manner.
She only freezes in place when she realises that a sword is pressed heavily to the back of her neck.
Fifty metres in front of her, Mircalla has stopped fighting and has seen Octavia’s situation.
She mouths at her, ‘dagger by your feet’.
Octavia glances down and knows she hasn’t much time.
So she takes her chance.
She swiftly leans down and away from the sword; swiping the dagger and twisting round, she drives it into the man’s side, just in the gap of his armour.
He drops the sword that had been in his hand and sputters, before Octavia grows tired of watching his slow stagger and slices into his neck to finish him off.
When she stands up straight again, she sees Mircalla standing in front of her.
‘Thanks,’ she says quietly and quickly, itching to get back to battle.
‘No problem,’ she says, disappearing from view as she speeds away to find others to fight.
Octavia sees a warrior running at her with a raucous battle cry, and she sighs.
This is just too fucking easy.
~()~
Bellamy is down, and he’s not in the best of predicaments.
A large man is pressing his foot on his chest, and he’s struggling to breathe. He knows it won’t be long til he cracks a rib, then just crushes his chest entirely.
Then, he suddenly notices the expression on the man’s face. It’s pained, and frozen.
He falls heavily to the side of Bellamy, an axe stuck in his back.
Monty is standing there completely emotionless.
‘That was for my best friend, fucker.’
It’s the same man who had killed Jasper.
Bellamy scrambles to get up, and puts a hand on Monty’s upper arm, bringing him back to reality.
‘Hey. You did good. Are you okay?’
Monty looks at Bellamy for a second, sharing eye contact to stabilise himself.
‘I’m good. Let’s do this,’ he says, picking up the gun by the tree he’d put down to pick up the axe, and they run straight into another brute who Monty shoots in the head.
‘I’m not used to this and I never will be,’ he shouts as he runs like the wind, Bellamy trailing behind him while taking out a man by swinging his sword into his knees.
~()~
Murphy is running in an emptier part of the forest, people too busy to notice him as they fight their own battles.
He knows exactly what he wants, exactly what he’s looking for.
The he sees him.
He’s on his knees, praying to a God Murphy has never believed existed. Why would he? The Earth’s radiation ridden and people can literally never have peace. It’s Godforsaken if you ask him.
Murphy gets out his pistol and shoots a tree next to Jaha.
The man flickers to life and looks in Murphy’s direction.
He doesn’t rise from his knees, and instead turns to beg him.
For what?
Mercy?
John Murphy never has, and never will do mercy.
Ever.
He throws his pistol to the side, and pulls a sword from his back.
‘Get up, Thelonious.’
‘John, please,’ he says. ‘You are better than a mindless fighter.’
‘You trained for this, Jaha. Now use it. Get up. Pick up your sword.’
‘John, I lost my way. I turned my back on my people, I’m sorry.’
Murphy throws dirt in his face. He doesn’t care how low this is. This man deserves it.
‘You made a deal with them, you asshole! Does your freedom and your freaking promised land mean more to you than the people who voted for you?! You’re a despicable excuse for a man, and that’s coming from me. Congratulations. You hit rock bottom. Now pick up your sword and fight me, Thelonious. Die in dignity.’
‘Don’t you dare call me an excuse for a man, John Murphy. You have killed, and you have been merciless. Change that today.’
Murphy freezes, his sword being gripped in his hand so hard that his skin is turning whiter than white.
‘I killed people?’
Jaha realises what he’s done, and slowly picks up his sword.
‘You killed most of our parents. You killed Clarke’s father. You killed Bellamy’s mother. You killled my parents. You’re dying for them!’
He lunges at Jaha with his sword and the man barely blocks it. You wouldn’t have thought he had gone through intensive fight training.
They spar for a minute or so, Jaha mostly on the back foot.
Finally, Murphy takes his chance with the upper hand and jars Thelonious’ hand, causing him to drop his weapon.
He points his sword as his neck, and they are back to the start. Jaha on his knees. Begging for mercy.
‘John, you can be an honourable man today. I can come back, and I can start again. Please.’
‘Honourable?’ Murphy mutters, his expression stoic and unrelenting.
‘I will never be honourable. Clarke would probably tell me to keep you alive. Maybe Bellamy would too.’
‘Then be like them. Show you can be merciful. Power is mercy.’
‘I don’t want power. And I’m not like them.’
He stabs Jaha in the chest, right in the centre. He knows it won’t kill him instantly, and it’s enough to cause him some pain.
He doesn’t fall for a second, still groaning with a high pitch from the sword still stuck in his chest.
Murphy keeps hold of the hilt, and leans down to him.
‘That was for those on the Ark who had more honour than you. We don’t need you anymore.’
He smiles wickedly.
‘Fuck you.’
He pulls out the sword and lets Jaha fall to the ground, dead with his eyes still wide open.
Murphy spits on his lifeless body, walks to pick up his pistol and ambles away back into the throng of battle.
~()~
Clarke hasn’t seen Lexa for a while, and she’s beginning to panic.
As she pushes a warrior out of the way into the waiting sword that Wick’s holding, she takes another peripheral look around, not spotting her anywhere.
‘Lex, where are you?’
She spots Bellamy who’s fending off a man twice his size, and she jumps on the man’s back to unsettle him. Bellamy slices through his armour, and slices again through his abdomen.
He falls to the ground, and Clarke jumps off heavily.
‘Lexa’s gone.’
‘What do you mean she’s gone?’
‘I haven’t seen her,’ Clarke replied, shouting over the clamour of the battlefield.
In the next second, Laura appears by Clarke’s side, her features concerned.
‘Clarke, I saw them taking Lexa. In the direction of the village.’
Everything falls away.
The one thing she couldn’t bear was going to happen.
‘This is extremely undignified, but could you take me to them? Like, on your back?’
‘Absolutely, let’s go.’
‘Wait no. No, hang on. What about the battle? I’m supposed to be leading…I can’t…’
She realises in her head this is the choice Lexa had to make. Survival of the many outweighs the death of the few.
‘Go. We’ve got this,’ Octavia says, appear by her side having sliced a smaller warrior in half.
‘She’s right, Princess. We can take over till you get her back.’
She thinks for a moment, not sparing too much time. There’s hardly any left.
‘Alright. Octavia, I trust your judgement. If you feel we have the edge, once Indra’s battalion gets down here, go on the offensive. We’ve got them wrapped around our fingers.’
‘You got it, TuHeda,’ she says, running off to continue fighting.
‘Go. We’ll be here when you get back.’
She gives Bellamy a strained smile, jumping on Laura’s back and speeding through the forest.
Hold on, Lex.
~()~
She wakes up to a blurry face much too close for comfort.
When she realises that it is Zakur, she begins to tremble. She’s terrified. She squirms and struggles, realising she’s pinned to the wall of her own godforsaken settlement.
She wants to hyperventilate, but she doesn’t have the stomach to look so panicked in front of this brute of man, his evil smile showing his disgusting set of teeth and the scars on his chest showing in the cracks of his minimal armour.
The only good thing about this is she knows Clarke isn’t in danger from him.
What’s more, she’s seen her train in the last few days. She’s more than capable of looking after herself on the battlefield.
Part of her wants Clarke to come and save her. But the other wants her to stay away, keep safe, and she hate herself for letting this brute who’s apparently her brother let her kidnap her right under her feet.
‘What do you want?’
‘You know exactly what I want, Lexa. Sister,’ he says, dragging out the last word on his tongue.
She wants to throw up.
‘Yu gonplei kamp raun em en nou ai. Let the battle end and you may have me.’
‘You give up so easily, sister. Please, at least give me some fight like you used to.’
‘Go to hell.’
She’d learned that from Octavia. Good. He deserves it.
And so much more.
‘That’s more like it.’ He takes a knife from his belt and presses it against her neck, letting it cut just into her skin.
She pretends not to feel the pain. It won’t go away, but it makes it easier.
‘Come on, weakling, that must have hurt a little.’
‘I’m not weak, Zakur, you are the weak one. Succumbing to revenge.’
That enrages him.
He throws her to the ground, and she hits her head roughly against the leg of the battle strategy table, sending her hazy.
But not for long.
~()~
Clarke jumps off of Laura’s back, looking at the tent. It’s heavily guarded.
‘Shall we dance?’
The TuHeda eyes the vampire with a small amount of glee in her eyes, a sinister glee that only comes from the death of enemies. Part of her doesn’t like it. But it’s necessary, to get the Heda back on her rightful pedestal.
‘Oh yeah.’
They run together, Laura then pulling away to catch the guards by surprise.
Clarke runs at the first one, not even giving him a chance to pull his sword from his belt before slicing into his neck, not bothering to watch as he drops to his knees with a quiet, gurgling cry.
Laura brings the other two guards away from the entrance to the tent, quietly ending them with a bite and a slash.
It’s only after there is only one guard left that she collapses to the ground.
Clarke sees it happen, her heart stopping as she’s about to stabbed in her unbeating heart.
She breathes. And then she runs
The TuHeda pushes herself forward with her most powerful stride, running in an almost superhuman-like way.
Just before Laura is about to be struck, Clarke’s sword clangs mightily with the warrior’s.
Clarke whirls around, hitting her sword on his again, and moves quickly around him as he tries to catch up.
A couple of moves later, and the speed is too much for the warrior. Clarke is covering too much ground.
He makes one wrong jab, and Clarke has cut his hand away, his sword still being held in it as it hits the ground.
He hardly has time to scream in pain when the TuHeda uses the hilt of her sword to give a staggering blow to his head, knocking him unconscious, maybe even dead.
Clarke doesn’t pay attention as she drops to Laura’s side, seeing her look even paler than her usual ivory.
‘Laura, what’s wrong?’
‘I…didn’t.. fe..’
‘Mircalla! MirCALLA!’ Clarke is panicking now.
‘Try…try Carmilla.’
‘What?’
‘That’s her name. Carm…’
Her eyes are drooping, and Clarke slaps her cheek softly to try and keep her awake.
‘Stay with me, Laura, come on. CARMILLA!’
Seconds later, Carmilla appears by Laura’s other side, grabbing her face with both her hands and looking stricken.
‘She hasn’t fed. She’s going into anaemic collapse.’
‘Vampires can do that?’
‘Oh, hell yes. I need to get her blood. Now. I have to take her.’
‘Go. Go, get her safe, get her better.’
Carmilla picks up her mate easily, looking at Clarke with the most sincere face that any of the TriKru would have ever seen on the vampire.
‘Thank you.’
‘Thank you. You both have helped us more than we deserve.’
‘Go and get Lexa. And no matter what she tells you…she needs you.’
Clarke nods once, and watches her begin to leave.
‘Why did you change your name?’
‘The only one who calls me Carmilla is Laura. It was a time special to us. I’d appreciate if you’d keep that to yourself.’
‘Of course. Now go. I’ve got something to do.’
She doesn’t stay to watch the vampire speed up to their cave in the mountain.
~()~
She looks up at him, her eyes widening.
‘You will regret coming after me.’
‘Will I?’
He grabs her and pulls her up roughly, pushing her against the wall once again as she struggles with more fervour and rips away her armour and her top, showing her midriff bare for but a bra.
‘We have a tradition in our clan, dear sister. We make three cuts. Three cuts against our chest. If they survive, they become warriors.
‘Now we both know you don’t have the stomach for this. You’ll die a long, painful death. Like you should. You took the title from me, I should have been the Commander. You know that.’
She’s sure she hears shouts outside, and she considers crying for help. It wouldn’t be wise; he’d kill them too.
‘You never would have been. It only goes to those who are honourable, and put their people first.’
‘I have put my people first.’
‘By slicing into them and working them into suicide?’
‘It keeps them in line. That is what a leader should do, they should be strong. You are not. And now, your reign will end. The Commander’s spirit will never have been yours. I will make it as if you were never born.’
When Zakur’s face falls, Lexa’s mouth falls open a little as she realises why.
‘Clarke, no.’
‘Let. Her. Go.’
Zakur looks over his shoulder as much as he can without moving, seeing a mane of blonde hair, war paint and a stony glare.
It all happens in an instant.
He turns around, batting the sword away roughly, but Clarke matches his speed as their swords clang together once, twice, three times. It’s only when Zakur takes the upper hand and punches Clarke in the face that she loses her focus, just for a fraction of a second. That’s all it takes.
He stabs his sword through the left side of her chest, and she stops breathing. She looks down at her wound, then into Lexa’s eyes.
All she sees is tears, and that impossibly beautiful green.
Then she falls.
Zakur turns back to Lexa, satisfied with his work. As he realises his half sister is about to weep, he smiles fully, even daring to laugh.
‘You cared for the wench. Cute.’
His smile disappears instantly, and he jams her against the wall once more, his forearm across her neck, choking her violently.
‘No one will save you now. You will succumb to the way of the JusTriKru, and the TriKru will die. It will be better without you. Nobody will ever miss you. I will make sure of that.’
Lexa waits for death. She does not care any more. She only wants to be with Clarke.
If that is the way, then so be it.
Just before she thinks she will see black, Zakur lets out a blood curdling cry of pain.
‘You missed.’
Clarke has slashed him in the side, through his muscle by his spine.
Before he can fall to his knees, Clarke grabs the back of his neck, pulling him away from Lexa and sending him crashing into the table, which is wrecked beyond repair.
He tries to breathe, but he can’t, not properly.
Clarke is in a trance. Her eyes are wide and murderous, and she’s pumping with adrenaline. She cannot even feel the wound in her chest as she grabs his collar roughly and looks straight into his terrified stare.
‘Rule one of battle strategy; make sure your enemy’s dead before turning your back,’ she sneers, taking a hand away from his collar and giving him an uppercut to the chin, breaking his jaw. He screams, and more pain comes from it.
Lexa simply watches as she lets Clarke batter her older brother.
She lands a few more punches.
‘The TriKru…do not deserve to lead,’ he spits out, blood coming from his puffy lips. It’s sickening. He turns to Lexa as best he can. ‘You and her together, you can’t lead an army. You can’t be warriors. You’re disgusting, mating together and pretending you can command a battlefield,’ he says, groaning in pain.
‘We commanded an army that took down your little tribe like it was an ant colony, you worthless piece of shit. And don’t you dare talk about her like that. She’s worth hundreds of you. She leads with ruthlessness, but she has mercy. My fellow generals will have mercy on the soldiers in your army that will surrender, and believe me, if they’re smart they will. You fucked with the wrong pair of Commanders. But me? I won’t be giving you any mercy at all.’
She looks up at Lexa. ‘Would you like the honours?’
Lexa’s face is emotionless, and it reminds Clarke of the old Commander. The one who gave her a truce for the price of a man. For the price of death.
And she loves that part of her too, because she’ll love all of her until the day she dies and more.
Lexa walks forward, the picture of prowess and even godliness. She’s put on a jacket from the corner of the room, covering herself if but enough.
She takes the dagger from Clarke, twirling it in her hands like the day she sat on her throne and met the Sky Princess.
‘I have only betrayed somebody once in my short life. But you betrayed me, time and time again. Now, for that, you will pay.’
She pushes the knife slowly in his airway, taking it out again as blood gushes from his neck and he fights pathetically for breath. He only lasts a few seconds before the horrible light in his eyes dies away, and he’s a lifeless corpse on the ruins of the table.
Clarke and Lexa look at him for some seconds. They should be horrified of what they’ve done. He’s Lexa’s half brother, or was. Yet, neither of them can bring themselves to care.
It only dawns on Clarke a few seconds later, what the last words she said to her brother meant.
‘Lexa…you…’
‘I remember, Clarke.’
He throws her to the ground, and she hits her head roughly against the leg of the battle strategy table, sending her hazy.
But not for long.
Memories flood into her brain, all at once. It’s a torrent, an unstoppable waterfall.
Anya teaching her to swordfight.
Beating Zakur in the ring, him leaving forever.
Him making an attempt on her life.
Falling in love with Costia as they spar lightly, her dancing around the ring intoxicating Lexa’s mind and heart.
Screaming in anguish when it’s her head on a spike launched into Polis outside her door.
Ripping the head of the lover of the Ice Queen away, revelling in the feeling of revenge that eventually led her to be empty of feeling.
Then, Clarke.
Clarke.
The infuriating but breathtaking blonde Sky Princess who wouldn’t give up, never gave in. Challenged her at every turn. Reminded her what it was like to feel human. To feel good again. To feel love.
The kiss. The heart-stopping kiss. The glimmer of hope when she said not yet, instead of not ever.
Watching her face fall and crumble as you tore yourself away, your people saved but not hers.
Betrayal.
‘You…you remember? Everything?’
‘Yes. And I’m standing here wondering why on Earth you’re not running for the hills.’
Clarke closes her eyes, sighing heavily. She’s terrified to have the Lexa back who left her, but she knows in her heart she’ll not do it again.
‘Now isn’t the time for this, Lexa. Let’s…let’s go. Stop the battle. Bury our dead.’
Lexa follows her out of the tent and stops just outside the entrance.
‘We can start again.’
Clarke turns to her and almost laughs.
‘Lexa, Lexa. No. What happened in there, what happened at Mount Weather, what happened in the bunker…everything. It shapes who we are. And now I know that we can do it together.’
‘Clarke, I left you once. What’s to say I won’t hurt you again?’
The TuHeda’s face falls. ‘Lexa…stop assuming the worst of yourself.’
‘I can’t help it,’ she says, showing a weakness in her voice that she never has before. Not even without her memories.
Clarke puts her hands on her face, wiping at tears that aren’t there, looking straight into her forest green eyes and searching for truth, for happiness. It’s in there, she knows it is.
‘It took me so long to forgive you,’ she says, holding even tighter. ‘But I have. Because I know you. And I know we can protect each other. And I…’
‘Clarke? You what?’
‘I’m not sure you’re ready to hear me say it.’
Lexa’s eyes fill with emotion, so much emotion that she just hasn’t seen before. It’s like her warpaint isn’t even there, and just the scared, problematic but perfect woman is staring back at her.
‘Clarke, I have waited to hear you say it since the day we kissed,’ she says thickly.
Clarke lets out what sounds like a sob and a laugh at the same time.
‘I love you. I love you, I love you…’
She kisses Lexa’s forehead, both her cheeks, and before she reaches her lips, Lexa tips her chin so she’s looking back into those impossible eyes and smiles the most full and wonderful smile she has ever seen.
‘I love you too, Clarke Kom TriKru. More than anything in this world and above,’ she murmurs, looking over Clarke’s face as if it is a masterful sculpture, crafted by the Gods themselves.
Clarke sobs again, and kisses Lexa on the lips with a fierceness she didn’t think she had in her.
Lexa pulls away softly, letting Clarke drag her bottom lip away from her mouth hotly and shivering.
She loves this woman more than her own life.
‘We have to go. Sort things out.’
‘Yeah.’
Lexa lets her forehead fall onto Clarke’s, and breathes in and out, slowly.
She’s so lucky.
They walk into the forest to the battlefield with swords out to protect themselves.
But they still knit their hands together loosely and shoot each other a smile at every glance.
~()~
‘They have surrendered!’
Cheers erupt at Bellamy’s declaration, and he smiles a little along with those who shout in glory.
It breaks into a full on grin when he sees Clarke and Lexa, walking together at the back of the army hand in hand.
Octavia sees too, and she begins to file through the army in pursuit of them both.
‘Clarke, are you okay?’
‘Yeah, just a flesh wound,’ she replies quickly, reaching out for Octavia as she nears them enough to touch.
Octavia launches into her friend’s arms. It may have taken them a while, but Clarke might as well be her sister after everything they’ve been through.
‘You need to get that checked out,’ Octavia says, tentatively inspecting the wound.
‘I’ll be fine,’ Clarke says, smiling at her, and launching into Bellamy’s arms as he comes bounding down the way.
‘Lexa, are you alright?’
‘I’m quite well, Octavia, thank you.’
Octavia eyes her for a minute, her answer a more formal one than she’s been used to recently.
‘Octavia I, um…I would like to tell you how sorry I am, for how things turned out in TonDC. With the missile. But you must understand it was a decision I had to make. And in the matter of betraying the Sky People…there is not much I can say apart from that I am sorry for that as well. You are a fierce warrior, and if you’ll allow it…I would look forward to having you back as Indra’s second. I am most certain she wants you as that permanently, even maybe moving you up to general in the near future. Your skills are palpable, and incredibly fast-growing. It would be an honour.’
Octavia stands there for at least ten seconds, trying to take this all in.
‘It would be a privilege, Heda.’
She offers her arm, and they link arms firmly, Lexa nodding her head once in acceptance.
What she doesn’t expect is Lexa pulling her in for a hug.
‘Thank you for bringing her back to me, Octavia. It saved me.’
‘I know.’
They separate, and smile knowingly at each other before they join Clarke and Bellamy.
‘Commander,’ he addresses her by her formal title. ‘I hear your memory has returned. Welcome back.’
‘Thank you, Bellamy. Actually, I have a proposition for you as well. I know that your proficiency with fighting is high, but there is a position that I would like to offer you. Both Indra I were talking before you came down that it would be beneficial for the children to learn about the history of our world… and Clarke has told me of your knowledge and interest. Would you be interested? Especially now that the Sky People are part of the TriKru clan. They are TriKru as much as us.’
Bellamy looks like he’s trying to hide is sheer excitement at the prospect. He bows his head a little, and smiles in kind. ‘I would love to.’
Lexa smiles.
‘You will be keeping your position as TuHeda, I assume?’
‘Of course,’ Clarke replies with a smirk. ‘Somebody’s gotta help you.’
Lexa smirks back and whispers in her ear. ‘Careful. Talk like that to Heda can result in punishment.’
‘That’s what I’m hoping,’ Clarke whispers back, her face completely serious as she kisses her cheek quickly and goes to find her mother.
Lexa has never felt so content.