Born to Lead - Bloodheda (2024)

Chapter 1: Prologue

Chapter Text

If there was one thing Clarke kom Azgeda had learned, it was that freedom was the most valuable thing in the world. Something she had never had and would never have as long as her stepmother was in charge of Azgeda.

Nia terrorized the people; she was not respected out of love and admiration but solely out of pure fear. Clarke could understand them. If evil were to be defined, Nia would be it. The situation of the people in Azgeda was disastrous; the Queen only prioritized those useful to her army, and everyone else, the ones who weren't gona, got the leftovers.

Yet, if there was one thing Azgeda respected, more out of habit and hardening than anything else, it was strength. And Nia ruled only with force. But more than that, she ruled with cruelty, and her people always confused or reconciled the two because they did not know the difference between real strength and cruelty. Azgeda knew only harshness and violence, and had done so for decades. Their leaders were only tyrants, you had to be tough to survive.

Clarke aspired to change that, but for that, she had to be respected and loved by the people. It was far from the case with the attitudes Azgedans had. They had to be shown that another way was possible, and they had to be shown what real strength was and how immensely weak her stepmother was behind the evil that inhabited her.

Yet, being born as the bastard child of King Jake kom Azgeda and the greatest fisa of the Twelve Clans, Abigail kom Azgeda, did nothing for her respect, especially when Nia treated her like trash and humiliated her publicly as often as possible. She was, what they called, a 'fallen' princess.

Her older half-brother had been her only light since her parents' death. Roan hadn't been able to protect her from Nia's physical and verbal abuse as much as they both wished, but he treated her like his gift from the Spirits. He loved her unconditionally, and she loved him more than anything in return.

Clarke didn't remember her mother, not because she was too young, but due to amnesia induced by deep trauma. She also didn't remember her father, except for his public execution when his adultery was discovered. Her life began with death and violence under Nia as far as she was concerned. Everything else was just very blurry in the form of nightmares or crises.

The crises were triggered every time someone touched her. She saw things, visions that weren't of the present. It was a blurry female face, brown hair, and Clarke was being urgently dragged by this blurry form that she knew was her mother, and she was crying and panicking. She wasn't herself during these crises, completely given over to panic and hysteria and lost in blurry memories.

Roan was the only one who knew, he had never touched her again after Clarke had her first crisis. It was gradual, the older she got, the less she could stand the touch. Outside, she simply had the reputation of a "stone heart" even more than by Azgedan standards because of the public notoriety that she actively avoided all physical contact, including in the usual greetings. To them, she simply hated human contact, and it made her seem more closed off. More unreachable. Untouchable.

Clarke had read in books before Praimfaya about "psychology" that it was called Haphephobia, the fear of touch and that it was in ninety percent of cases due to "post-traumatic stress disorders" or "obsessive-compulsive disorders" both induced by trauma that triggered upon touch, hence her crises. She was grateful for the variety of knowledge about the mind held by the people before Praimfaya.

Roan had told her that maybe it would heal if she regained her memories, because then she could move forward.

She hoped that was the case, she had had enough of this weakness. If Nia knew, it would certainly be used against her. The Queen had kept her alive only in some sort of unhealthy revenge against her father by making her daughter her puppet and punching bag. She was Nia's tool, the one who should get her to her ultimate goal; to kill Commander Lexa to put the Coalition under Azgeda through Ontari who would be the new Commander and would be Nia's puppet. As for Clarke, she was doomed to die the second she had completed her mission to kill Heda Leksa. If it wasn't the Commander's followers who did it, Nia would have a field day.

To accomplish her mission, they had a means of psychological pressure on the Commander.

"Hainofi Clarke," Costia inclined her head in greeting, her hand making gentle circles over her fiancée's knuckles. Clarke nodded slightly, placing her palm over her heart in acknowledgment.

Ontari didn't spare her even a glance, not that the blonde had expected it. If Nia were to have a daughter, then it would be Ontari. She didn't even know how Costia could have traded the warm attention of the Commander for a psychopath like Ontari.

"Her Majesty wants to ensure the wedding preparations are ready," Clarke said in a monotone voice, clasping her hands behind her back and adopting a royal and graceful posture as Azgedan etiquette demanded.

Costia bit her lip, anxiety more visible on her features than she had intended. Clarke supposed it was understandable. After all, her former lover had been invited to the celebration. Nia had initially wanted to marry Costia to Clarke, to see the Commander's reaction to her beloved becoming royalty of the clan that was her sworn enemy. But she had decided that would hinder Clarke's chances of delivering the fatal blow to the Commander since Lexa's hatred would be focused on the blonde. Moreover, she wanted no chance of happiness for Clarke, which involved marriage to anyone.

For the fallen princess, it was a blessing she hadn't been married to Costia. She didn't have the mental capacity to deal with a houmon, to satisfy both her physical and emotional desires. Plus, she didn't want to marry in any case, let alone the Commander's ex. An ex who had betrayed said Commander.

Inviting Heda to the ceremony was a huge insult to the Commander from Nia, and the leader couldn't refuse; it would be taken as an offense since the invitation of the Seken union from Nia was in "good faith to mend ties between Azgeda and the Commander." Of course, those closest to the Commander knew the true nature of the invitation, but the public facade prevailed.

Costia, despite being a natrona of the worst kind, had genuinely loved the Commander before ending up in Ontari and Nia's clutches. She knew Heda didn't deserve such torture, but it wasn't as if she had a choice. Clarke didn't defend her, however, imagining herself in the Commander's place; all she could feel towards Costia was contempt. Natrona were not welcomed in Azgeda unless they were traitors from another clan for Azgeda's glory.

"Sha. Everything will be ready for tonight; Ontari and I have already chosen our outfits separately," The brunette replied, inhaling slightly.

"Ogud. I wish you my best wishes," Clarke added, her eyebrow raised almost imperceptibly towards Costia at the sight of her nervousness. The confrontation was going to be tough.

"Mochof, Hainofi. It's an honor," Costia replied softly as Ontari smirked to herself. Clarke glanced at her, unimpressed by her attempts to humiliate.

Costia kissed Ontari's cheek, murmuring a few quick sweet words in Trigedasleng, and Clarke respectfully turned away. The brunette stood once done, and just as she was about to pass the princess, Clarke leaned towards her.

"By dancing too much with masks, we forget the face we hide," She whispered firmly, her icy gaze penetrating deep into the brunette's soul. Costia froze for a moment, tense as the words repeated in her head. Then she resumed her movements, nodding her head towards Clarke, offering no response, but the blonde knew she had struck a chord.

Her gaze fell on Ontari, who blatantly ignored her. "Heda will make you her number one enemy next to Haiplana," She said flatly, and the Natblida gave her a venomous look but said nothing.

Clarke knew this hostile behavior stemmed more from jealousy for her status than anything else. And the fact that she saw Clarke as trash who didn't deserve it as a bastard. Like most Azgedans, Nia had made sure of that.

"Is there an utility for a tongue... When there are no ears around that want to hear?" She quipped with a smirk, and Ontari shot her a venomous look.

"Shof op !" She growled, throwing a piece of clothing that Clarke gracefully dodged.

The blonde knew Ontari was wicked, but she also knew she wasn't beyond redemption. After all, even the darkest nights give way to dawn. It would take a lot of work to pull her away from Nia's influence. Clarke would have to break free herself first. It seemed impossible, though.

"Can you handle the Commander's hostile attention on you?" She questioned, tilting her head with genuine curiosity.

"I'll be the one taking her place anyway; she might as well hate me. This is just the beginning; I've taken her beloved, and one day I'll take her throne, her city, her coalition—everything she's built," Ontari smirked with a manic smile on her face, and Clarke almost retracted her previous internal thought about Ontari being beyond redemption.

"You're like a tree bent by the wind."

Ontari shot her a bewildered look. "What does that mean?" She spat, her desire to snuff out Clarke's life with her metaphors growing stronger.

"Just that you can regain your upright position with the right support," she replied simply before turning and leaving, leaving Ontari speechless.

"How do you think the Commander will react?" Wells asked curiously, the distinct Azgedans scars standing out on his dark cheeks in the white light from the window. He fiddled with one of his chess pieces, trying to calculate his next move.

It was an old game from before Praimfaya that they had found in an old bunker during a snowstorm search with the instruction manual, and they took it as a game of war strategy rather than a leisure game as people from before thought it was.

Clarke's thumb brushed against her queen, the white reflections captivating her for a moment. Her gaze wandered over the pieces. 'The people are the King. The Coalition,' She thought, then her gaze returned to the queen.

'The queen... That's Heda.'

"She's smarter than Haiplana. Our queen thinks she's already cornered the king without knowing she's just a decoy for the queen waiting to checkmate her king," She murmured thoughtfully, and Wells narrowed his eyes.

"Do you think Heda always has the upper hand against Haiplana Nia?" He asked, lowering his voice a bit because the walls had ears in Azgeda, even when they were alone.

Just as he said that, her queen captured Wells' king. "She always has," She declared simply as he looked down at the board with a groan.

"How do you always win?" He grumbled, and she smiled, winking at him. She deliberately ignored the reddening tint rushing to her best friend's cheeks.

"I always have several moves ahead," She chimed playfully, and he laughed, shaking his head.

"You've always been good at leadership and strategy," He said with a smile that was both sad and affectionate. No matter how good Clarke was at that, she remained nothing more than Nia's pawn.

She didn't share her thoughts; her smile was merely more controlled, her eyes calculating. "I wouldn't be a princess or a warrior if I weren't," She retorted, her blue eyes drifting to the snowy landscape outside the window.

"That's true," he sighed, his hazel eyes fixed on Clarke's profile with longing and pain. She didn't deserve this. She would make the best queen Azgeda had ever known; he had always seen her potential. If only their people could see her as he did, then they would have the courage to oust Nia and place Clarke in her stead.

"I can hear you thinking from here," She said without taking her eyes off the window, a soft smile playing on her lips as she caught sight of a gyrfalcon. She envied its freedom.

Wells opened his mouth to reply but closed it with a sigh. What could he say, anyway? It would never change the situation. "It's nothing, Clarke."

She glanced at him but decided to shrug nonchalantly. It's not like she wanted to have this conversation herself.

A knock on the door sounded, and she automatically stiffened, resuming her royal posture. "Min yu op," She called out, with Wells straightening up as well.

The door opened, and a big smile spread across Clarke's lips as she saw her favorite person.

"You finally decided to show up, Roan?" She asked with a smirk, and he laughed, approaching her while carefully avoiding any contact and placing his palm over his heart in greeting for his younger sister. He then grabbed Wells' forearm in turn, who nodded with a smile.

"I see you're still busy with your boring games, little sister." He teased, raising an eyebrow, and she shook her head.

"Just because you have no hobbies doesn't mean you have to criticize others'." She retorted, and he rolled his eyes.

"Whatever you say, goufa."

"I'm seventeen winters old," She said with a raised eyebrow, and he nodded as if she had proved her point.

"Exactly, such a goufa," He laughed loudly, dodging the chess piece thrown at him by his sister, that what Wells' king.

"Hey!" Wells protested immediately, but the siblings ignored him.

"Let them be; they're already locked in their own little world. I speak from experience," A voice emerged behind him, and the dark-skinned boy fought all his instincts not to startle.

"Bellamy! When did you get back!?" Wells practically exclaimed, and the older man chuckled.

"At the same time as the Prince," He replied, watching the siblings bicker with an affectionate and wistful smile. His younger sister was with Trikru; he envied Roan for being able to see his little sister so often.

"You're just old and jealous," Clarke's retort was heard, and they both laughed.

"Old?! I'm only thirty-five winters old!" Roan grumbled, and the blonde nodded condescendingly as he had done earlier.

"Exactly, you're so old," She replied with a smirk, and he grumbled.

"You cheeky kid."

"Boring old man."

"Well! Looks like you're having fun without me here!" A female voice chimed in, and they all turned to see Raven accompanied by Murphy.

"Reivon!" Clarke greeted with a joyful smile, and Raven laughed as she limped over to her, ignoring Murphy's protests against being ignored.

"It's a party in here," Remarked Bellamy, raising an eyebrow, and Clarke turned to him with a perplexed look. "Since when have you been here, Bell?"

He grumbled under his breath, "Why does no one notice me."

Wells chuckled, patting him on the back sympathetically, "If it makes you feel better, you're not alone." He gestured towards Murphy, and the brunette sighed.

"Let's support each other as overlooked men," Declared Bellamy, slinging an arm around Murphy's shoulders, who tried to shrug him off with a scowl.

"Get off me!"

"Are you all here for the ceremony?" Clarke asked, raising an eyebrow, subtly stepping away from the gathering as she clasped her hands behind her back.

"Sha. We didn't want to miss the Commander's reaction to seeing her ex marrying the Seken of her sworn enemy," Sneered Bellamy with disdain, and the princess gave him a sharp look, causing him to lower his head.

"Don't do anything to attract Heda's attention," she said, looking at each of them until they all nodded.

"We're just here to watch. It was an invitation we couldn't refuse," Murphy replied casually, and she nodded slowly.

"Ogud."

"How's Costia?" Murphy asked after a few seconds of thoughtful silence in the room.

"Nervous. She's trying to hide it, but she looks ready to panic at the thought of confronting Heda at the ceremony," Clarke replied softly, her thoughts turning to the brunette. Another pawn of Nia. A crucial piece in the game to trap Heda Leksa.

"I bet. I'd be sh*tting myself too in her place." Chuckled Raven, and Roan nodded in agreement.

"The Commander is not someone to play with," He said grimly, and his sister gave him a curious look.

"Speaking from experience, huh?" She said thoughtfully, and he nodded.

"Costia has nothing to fear; the Queen knows the game." Bellamy interjected, crossing his arms stubborn look.

Everyone gave him a dark look. "Always a loyal dog," Muttered Raven under her breath.

"Hod op," Clarke hissed before it escalated further when she saw Bellamy about to retort. He was Pike's second; one couldn't really blame him. Pike was Nia's most extreme loyalist, yet Bellamy managed to break free from his influence quite well. He wasn't entirely bad; he just had ingrained, preconceived notions from his upbringing that were being slowly shed away. That couldn't be resolved in a day.

"And you, Raven, to whom are you loyal?" Bellamy threw out despite Clarke's warning, and he flinched under the deadly glare from the princess.

"To the true royalty of Azgeda, the only salvation and hope for our people," Raven instantly replied, pointedly looking at Roan and Clarke.

To this, Bellamy clenched his jaw. "Me too," He hissed through gritted teeth, and Raven chuckled.

"Really? Because it seems to me you're more loyal to Haiplana Nia than anything." She spat out "Haiplana" like it was poison, and he flinched again.

"Em pleni!" growled Clarke, and the two gonas immediately stopped and straightened up.

"Moba, ai prisa," They both apologized immediately, and Roan grinned proudly next to Clarke.

"Now, that's my little princess," He joyfully sang, and Clarke gave him an exasperated look.

"I don't want any of this branwoda behavior tonight. You will conduct yourselves properly and humbly like true warriors. Am I clear?" Clarke hissed, and they both lowered their heads before nodding.

"Sha, ai prisa."

"Ogud."

Chapter 2: The Princess and the Commander

Chapter Text

Lexa felt herself simmering. Her last memory of Polis before leaving for Azgeda was a heated argument with Titus, essentially a rehash of their disputes from two summers ago when Costia had stabbed her in the back by joining Azgeda's ranks to deceive her with Nia's Seken. The same accusations, the same way of twisting the knife in the wound. Hodnes laik kwelnes, Lexa understood it well, but she still felt weak.

Time was said to heal wounds, Anya would say, but Lexa still hurt as much as when she discovered the betrayal of the girl she had loved with all her heart. She couldn't concile the image of her sweet Costia with that of the traitor and deceiver.

The fact that Nia invited her to the wedding ceremony as a "gesture of goodwill" was the final blow. Lexa hadn't seen her lover in two summers, but she would now see her in Azgeda marrying the Seken of her greatest enemy. How could Costia do this to her?

Why did it hurt so much? Why did her beloved's betrayal not diminish her love for her?

"We're almost there, Heda," Lincoln said, casting her a glance, and she straightened her posture regally atop her horse. She had only been to Azgeda's capital, Troit, once, but it was enough to recognize the grand city from afar. And if not, the increasingly biting cold did the job.

"Do you know if my brother will be at the ceremony, Heda?" Octavia asked softly, her eyes wandering over the impressive city with an admiration she couldn't contain. Lexa had to admit that Azgeda boasted beautiful landscapes, but life here was far from that in Polis. There was no joy here, only unsettling silence and famine. Nia was a poor leader.

The word "ceremony" was a reminder of what awaited them, of what awaited her, and oh, what humiliation it was. Titus had pounded into her head her poor choices of taking a lover and the consequences that followed, how she would now be the laughingstock of Nia. Politically and emotionally, this ceremony was ruining her. Lexa wished she could refuse. She wished she could go back and never fall in love with a natrona.

"Belomi is a great warrior. I doubt he would not be present," She replied, her expression impassive. Octavia beamed, and Lexa couldn't blame her. Half-bloods were separated from the clans unless they had a common father and rarely saw each other. In the case of Trikru and Azgeda, it was even rarer. The Commander harbored no appreciation for Bellamy, be it because of his Azgedan origin or his attitude and blatant disdain for her and her clan. However, she had to admit he was a very skilled warrior and strategist. And not a bad leader either.

"We're here," Announced Anya, and Lexa signaled her delegation to take position just in case as they stood before the grand gates of Troit.

The guards didn't need to ask the reason for their visit or who they were; they simply nodded toward the Commander out of reluctant respect and opened the gates.

"Sop, Heda," They said in a monotone voice, and Lexa nodded in return.

"Sop, Azgeda."

They advanced, and Lexa let her eyes wander over the impressive structures, and as she predicted, the lack of life. The icy conditions were a factor, but it ran deeper than that.

"Always so welcoming," Anya sarcastically muttered, and Gustus nodded in agreement.

The villagers and traders present watched them with fear and awe, but none dared approach the Commander as the crowds in Polis did. The lack of warmth in the welcome stemmed from fear, and it pained Lexa's heart. A people should not live in fear and famine.

They continued forward, and Lexa's gaze fell on the magnificent imposing building that could be seen from afar. The Azgedan royal palace, a true fortress standing since before Praimfaya.

"Stay on guard," She whispered quietly, and they nodded. Lexa knew there was almost no chance Nia would attempt anything under these conditions, but one could never be too cautious. Zero risk did not exist.

Arriving in front of the royal palace, they were greeted by Azgeda's three strongest Wormana: Marcus kom Azgeda, Thelonious kom Azgeda, and Pike kom Azgeda. Lexa already knew Marcus; he was Bellamy's father and Aurora's first lover before duty to their respective peoples separated them as the war grew increasingly violent. He was one of the few Azgedans to despise brutality and prefer peace. Additionally, he was a very skilled warrior and had interesting leadership qualities to be appointed as a War Chief.

The other two, she didn't truly like them. Thelonious wasn't so bad; he was better than most Azgedans she had encountered, but he seemed weak to her. As for Pike, he was Nia's top dog and her second least favorite person. Or third, now that Costia's fiancée had taken the second spot.

"Sop, Heda," The three generals murmured, Pike spitting out the title with more contempt than respect. Lexa saw Anya and Gustus tense in her peripheral vision and shot them a sharp look.

"Sop, Wormana kom Azgeda," She replied, and they straightened.

"I hope your journey wasn't too taxing," Marcus said with a slight smile, nodding toward Anya, who returned it before her gaze settled on Octavia.

She could see Octavia's eagerness to engage in conversation and the reciprocity, but Lexa decided to cut it short. "No, we encountered no difficulties," She declared, lightly gripping her horse's reins as she felt her body tense even more. She just wanted to return to Polis and forget this nightmare.

Marcus noticed and gave her a sincerely apologetic and guilt-ridden look as if he were responsible for her being here and Costia's betrayal.

"You must be weary from the journey; we should show you where you'll be staying for the night," Thelonious said neutrally, and the Commander nodded appreciatively. She preferred to rest before facing Nia, and especially Costia and her marriage to the enemy.

Marcus barked orders to the staff to tend to the horses as the Commander's delegation dismounted, and thus they entered the wolf's den.

Lexa hadn't been able to rest long, not when her body was so tense in Azgeda's capital. Her mind kept replaying every possible scenario, wondering how she hadn't seen Costia's betrayal coming, how she had come to such humiliation.

How she would face tonight's evening, Costia, Nia, and the ridicule of Azgeda.

Her gaze wandered around the room, and she had to admit that Nia had granted her exquisite comfort despite her potential for playing twisted games by giving her one of the worst rooms in the palace with any excuse without question. It was probably to lull Lexa into a false sense of security. Grant her a bit of "rest" before facing the storm.

What grace.

The window afforded a view of a dazzling white landscape, a bit too bright for what her eyes were accustomed to. That didn't make it any less beautiful. The bed was large and comfortable, and there were shelves filled with books dating back to before Praimfaya. It was only out of pride that Lexa refrained from touching them, despite her immense curiosity. Azgeda were the best preservers of literary, artistic, and architectural relics of the past, competing with Polis. They didn't keep it because they were scholarly; Azgedans scorned anything that didn't involve brutality and combat after all. They kept it solely for its value and aesthetics.

Lexa would very much like to bring all of this to Polis; she would certainly put it to real use. They didn't deserve to have such possessions.

She wondered who would be present at the ceremony, against whom she would have to prepare. Nia was a certainty, along with her Seken Ontari. Her ex-lover obviously, whom Lexa feared even more than Nia. Then there would likely be her three War Chiefs, Marcus, Thelonious, and Pike. At least Marcus would offer her a reprieve. Bellamy would be present as well, and probably Thelonious's son, Wells kom Azgeda. Surely Raven kom Azgeda too, one of the greatest minds the Twelve Clans had ever produced. All of Azgeda's nobility and the great warriors Lexa despised.

Prince Roan should therefore be present. Lexa didn't despise him; on the contrary, he would make a much better king than his mother and a potential ally for her. However, he was loyal to the people for now, and therefore to Nia.

Who else? She felt like she was forgetting someone on that list.

A knock sounded at her door, and she tensed. "Min yu op!" she called out, and Anya entered, causing Lexa to raise an eyebrow.

"What's happening?" She asked, staring pointedly at her former Fos. The blonde didn't respond immediately, observing Lexa's room with slight interest.

"Nothing, Azplana just wants us to meet her," she said sarcastically, and the Commander wrinkled her nose with disgust before smoothing her features into an impassive mask.

"Now?" She inquired, and Anya nodded briskly.

"Very well," Lexa muttered, preparing to face the woman she despised with all her being.

Not like she could escape her duties anyway.

The two women exited the room, Lincoln, Gustus, and Octavia immediately behind them like silent shadows.

"The corridors are narrow," Octavia remarked, curiously surveying the place where her brother lived. It was, for lack of a better word, grim.

"Azplana is known for her simplicity," Lincoln replied softly, and Anya scoffed.

"The lack of warmth in her home reflects her personality," She quipped, causing Lexa's lips to twitch. She sometimes enjoyed her former mentor's biting comments when directed at her enemies.

"Do we even know where we're going?" Octavia asked unnecessarily, and Lexa shot her a withering look, causing her to shrink back and fall silent. The question was beyond foolish, and the Commander sometimes scorned the way the young warrior attempted to fill every silence needlessly.

Just as they turned into the main hallway of the palace, Lexa collided with something—or rather, someone—and immediately tensed, stepping back as her gona stiffened.

"Heda," A hoarse voice murmured, and she looked up to meet the bluest orbs she had ever seen. Her heartbeat stuttered for some reason, and she quickly rearranged her features into her Commander's mask.

Her gaze traveled over the person she had bumped into, and she fought not to show her surprise. It was the last person she expected to see in Azgeda.

Princess Clarke kom Azgeda, the illegitimate daughter of the late King Jake kom Azgeda and "stepdaughter" of Nia. The princess despised by her people and by the Queen because of her bastard status. Impossible not to recognize her, with her beauty that was a gift from the Spirits. Her recurring pale complexion of Azgeda, her slightly wavy golden mid-length hair, her soft and perfectly feminine features, her azure eyes like the sky, and her pink lips—she was worthy of the portraits that circulated of her throughout the Twelve Clans. Hated for her status but adored for her beauty, an intriguing contrast. And if her exotic and unique beauty didn't give her away, her attire did. She wore a snug leather garment that descended to her knees with a belt around her waist for her sword and another belt to secure her long white wolf-fur cape that signified her royal status.

Her graceful posture was also a telling sign, as was the perpetual emptiness in her eyes that endlessly intrigued Lexa.

"Hainofi Clarke. An honor to meet you despite the... circ*mstances," Lexa almost extended her forearm before remembering the princess's reputation. She detested any form of physical contact.

"Moba, Heda. I didn't expect to bump into you; it's indeed an honor to meet you," Clarke placed her palm over her chest where her heart lay as a greeting while inclining her head slightly. It was the first time Lexa had seen such a greeting, and honestly, her impressionable and childish side found it charismatic. It must have been a greeting unique to the princess, who actively avoided the typical greetings that required physical contact.

Lexa wondered how far her aversion to touch went. Was it simply a whim, or was there something more behind it? Was it merely to add a mystique to her reputation? Knowing Azgeda, the latter option seemed highly plausible.

"It's nothing. I didn't expect to encounter you during my stay in Azgeda," Lexa declared, chin lifting slightly as her green eyes roamed over the princess's figure.

If Clarke were an ordinary girl, Lexa would have immediately taken her to bed. She didn't indulge in such pleasures very often, only when she felt the need or when a very beautiful woman caught her attention, but this... The beauty of the Azgedan princess was breathtaking, literally. Lexa had never seen a woman so beautiful in her life; even Costia didn't hold a candle to her, and yet Costia was more than just pretty.

'You can tell she's not of Nia's blood.' A malicious voice echoed in her mind, and Lexa struggled to suppress a smug smile at the thought.

"I'll be attending the ceremony, so it was expected," The blonde responded softly, and Lexa was perplexed.

Nia's hatred for her husband's bastard daughter was public knowledge. The Queen tried to undermine Clarke's royalty by every means, taking every opportunity to publicly humiliate her, yet also hiding her away during important events like the embarrassment she was to Nia's status. Lexa outright felt pity for the princess; she wouldn't have wanted to be in her shoes. Having Nia as a stepmother while being the illegitimate child of her husband condemned her to an inhuman life.

That's why the Commander was rather surprised by this information. "It's a grand event; I suppose it's logical," She replied instead, making sure not to offend the princess by being disrespectful of her status like most people were.

"Sha." Clarke's gaze shifted to the gona behind Lexa, and her eyes almost imperceptibly lit up when they fell on Octavia, who had been gaping at her since her appearance.

"You're Bellamy's little sister, aren't you?" The princess asked with a slight smirk, and Lexa ignored the warming sensation in her chest at the charming sight of the blonde's smile. This really wasn't the place to be impressed by a beautiful woman.

A glance at her former mentor showed that she wasn't the only one enchanted by Clarke's beauty, and Lexa wrinkled her nose in disgust at the thought of Anya and Clarke together.

"Sha, ai laik Okteivia kom Trikru. It's a true pleasure to meet you, Your Highness. My brother speaks of you every time we meet," The young brunette said sincerely, her eyes filled with reverence.

"Well, Bellamy talks about you all the time, so I guess we know each other by proxy," The blonde chuckled, and Octavia nodded vigorously.

"A pleasure," She repeated dreamily, and Lexa had to fight the urge to rub her temples at her gona's behavior. She was a real goufa.

The princess simply smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she did, highlighting her typical Azgedan scars. It was a stark reminder of her origin to Lexa, like a bucket of cold water, and her gaze turned cold despite the accelerated beat of her heart.

"It was a pleasure for us, Hainofi. However, we must apologize; I must join your mother for a discussion," She couldn't help the biting edge in her tone and the mockery at the word "mother," but the princess showed no sign of offense. She simply resumed her empty mask, one that could rival Lexa's own.

"In fact, Heda, I'm invited to join you," The blonde declared categorically, and Lexa blinked in confusion. That meant they were headed in opposite directions.

She didn't let any hint of embarrassment show and instead chose to test the waters again with the princess. "Oh, so your mother invites you to these important gatherings?" She asked with a blank expression.

Lexa wasn't sure what had come over her to behave so hostile and biting all of a sudden, and a glance from Anya and Gustus showed they were just as perplexed by this aggressive attitude toward the poor despised princess who hadn't asked for any of this.

Yet Clarke showed no reaction to her remarks, which frustrated Lexa more than she cared to admit.

"Why wouldn't she? I am the princess of Azgeda, after all," Her tone matched Lexa's, and her statement was a challenge. One that dared the Commander to contest her position with the same disdain that Azgedans held for her status as a bastard.

Lexa clenched her jaw; she would never stoop to such a level. She was more frustrated with herself for this behavior.

"I suppose that's the case," She replied curtly, her gaze dark as she inclined her head to study the princess's figure again.

So this was what it was about. Sexual tension. One-sided, at least. Lexa groaned at the thought; she was behaving unworthily of the Commander of the Twelve Clans. She was acting like a petulant girl frustrated at not getting the girl she wanted in her bed. Like a teenager in the throes of adulthood. It was shameful to take out this frustration on the princess, who had done nothing to warrant her lecherous interest, but the Commander couldn't help it. It was the first time a woman had captivated her like this in a single meeting since Costia.

It was dangerous.

"Shall we not keep the Queen waiting?" Clarke asked rhetorically, adopting a royal posture as she headed toward the opposite corridor, any trace of levity that was present before her tense interaction with the Commander vanished.

The Trikru warriors simply followed her in silence.

Chapter 3: Political War

Chapter Text

"Heda. I see you arrive just as Clarke does," Nia said, curling her lip in disgust at the sight of her two least favorite individuals entering her dining room together.

Anya seemed to find it amusing that Lexa and the princess shared a common bond of absolute disgust from Azgeda. As for the Commander, she responded in kind.

"Sop, HaiplanaNia. I encountered your daughter in the corridors," Her tone carefully neutral, but the mockery in the word 'daughter' and the arrogantly raised chin conveyed otherwise. It was a direct insult to Nia, a reminder of her late husband's infidelity.

For Lexa, it was equitable since Nia had made her life a living hell by turning her lover against her and now invited her to witness her ex's union with the Queen's second.

However, when she saw pure rage flash in the older woman's eyes and the absolute hatred directed at Clarke, she immediately regretted her actions, especially seeing the spark of fear, terror, and resolve in Clarke's eyes.

'Your words always have consequences. If not on you, then on others,' Titus' voice reminded her, and she almost flinched. If Nia couldn't exact revenge for this humiliation on Lexa, she would do it on the princess.

Her own protective rage surged in her chest instinctually. Lexa was fair, and the treatment of the Azgedan princess turned her stomach. She needed to divert Nia's attention.

"Thank you for the invitation to your Seken ceremony," She said, bitterness coloring her own words. The only way to divert Nia's attention from hating her stepdaughter's existence was to focus it on Lexa's own humiliation. It was deserved, for Lexa did not want to know what Nia would do to Clarke if the Commander used her as a weapon to humiliate the Queen.

The maniacal pleasure growing in Nia's eyes at this turned Lexa's stomach, but at least her hateful gaze was no longer fixed on Clarke.

'Where does this protective urge come from?' Lexa wondered, blinking.

"It is my pleasure, Heda. You were the first person I thought to invite," Nia practically purred, and Lexa felt her blood boil and rage consume her.

Her mouth opened for a witty rejoinder, but Nia's attention was redirected once more. "Shall we sit, Mother?"

And there it was, Nia's hate-filled gaze returning, almost ready to pounce on Clarke and tear her throat out with her bare hands.

"Aren't you waiting for your brother?" The Queen spat, a hideous smirk curling her lips.

Lexa was stunned to realize Clarke was reciprocating her earlier distraction. Because Nia had missed the moment of weakness behind the Commander's unflappable facade. And she wasn't the only one who saw it.

"The princess protected you," Anya whispered in astonishment in her ear, and Lexa imperceptibly nodded, her eyes fixed on Clarke's stiff figure.

"Is Roan invited?" The blonde asked softly, and Nia didn't even bother to respond as her hand trembled with containing her hatred.

If their interactions were still as violent... Lexa didn't even want to imagine what happened every time the two women were in the same room. Nia must massacre her.

Just as the tension peaked, the door opened to reveal Roan.

"Heda, you're already here. Welcome, Trigona. Sop, nomon, strisis," He greeted with a polite nod of his head, and the way his eyes sparkled with joy when they landed on Clarke was not lost on Lexa.

Nia's invitation to Azgeda into her own home might as well backfire with all the subtle information Lexa was collecting just from her presence. If leverage could be found against Prince Roan, it was through his sister. Similarly, if Nia were to be humiliated, it was by mentioning Clarke. Perhaps Abigail kom Azgeda's fisa prowess as well. Or King Jake's remarkable leadership. And for Clarke...

The princess was a wild card so far. She had shown no weakness despite Lexa's jabs, other than the flicker of fear when Nia promised her pain after Lexa's mockery. But even then, she faced all the consequences head-on by drawing Nia's hatred onto herself to divert her attention from the Commander's moment of weakness.

It meant that whatever treatment Nia gave her, she was already more than used to it and couldn't be used against her. 'What can be used against a person who has nothing to lose?' Lexa wondered, squinting at the blonde puzzle.

"A pleasure to see you again, Hainofa Roan," she said after a slight pause she deliberately left hanging.

"Likewise, Heda," He replied, then turned to her delegation and offered his forearm to Anya, who took it without hesitation.

Lexa was certain she didn't imagine the prolonged eye contact between her former Fos and Prince Roan. She scowled.

"Anya kom Trikru. Still legendary among the Twelve Clans," He remarked sarcastically with a smirk, and the blonde shot him a dark look.

The Commander knew Anya well enough to see there was no real contempt in her gaze unlike anyone else who would make such a remark. 'Well, at least I'm not the only one with a weakness for the enemy,' She thought dryly, her gaze turning to the princess - only to meet blue eyes already fixed on her.

She raised an eyebrow, ignoring the flutter in her chest as she clenched her jaw.

This woman reminded Lexa she needed a distraction because she couldn't continue feeling this kind of effect around her just because she was beautiful.

Nia cleared her throat, and everyone straightened, recalling the devil in the room. And the most hated person in her own palace as well.

"I suppose a meal wouldn't hurt, would it?" Nia said rhetorically, pinning Lexa with her vile gaze. This woman wouldn't let up.

The Commander nodded slowly and took her place opposite Nia, her gonascattering around her as the Queen's children sat beside her mother. "You don't mind me testing my food, do you?" She asked patiently, her carefully blank mask irritating Nia's nerves.

The Queen smirked darkly, "I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Heda." The title sounded like an insult on Nia's lips, unsurprisingly. Lexa nodded slowly and signaled an Azgedan guard to test her food.

The Azgona did so without flinching, at least outwardly. But Lexa could see his nervousness and knew even he was wary of his Queen's intentions. 'No one is loyal to you out of love, Nia,' She thought grimly, her gaze piercing into the Queen's silhouette like an arrow into flesh.

Once the guard had tasted everything, Nia raised her glass toward Lexa with a condescending air. "To new relations between Azgeda, the Coalition, and the Commander," She said with a smile that made Lexa want to vomit, and she hadn't even eaten yet.

She nodded, her gaze still fixed deeply into Nia's to meet the Queen's subtle challenge.

"And to our future young houmon," She added afterward, and Lexa's expression almost fell. Instead, she offered a slight smirk back at Nia, a silent signal that she had the upper hand, that she was the predator.

"My best wishes to them," She replied, raising her glass higher, thoroughly pleased to see Nia grit her teeth at her lack of reaction. She was Heda, and she wouldn't be baited and weakened by her enemy.

She glanced over at Clarke, who still stared at her with that intense and disconcerting gaze, as if the princess were trying to solve a puzzle. Lexa tried not to be unsettled by the young blonde and brought her glass to her lips.

"Was the journey not too arduous, Heda?" Roan inquired, raising an eyebrow, and Lexa shook her head.

"I've endured worse," She replied vaguely, turning her gaze back to Nia with a slight curve of her lips. If Nia thought she had the upper hand with her little game and Costia, Lexa would show her who the true master was.

"This isn't your first time in Troit, is it?" Nia asked rhetorically, deciding to play the game, now locking eyes with Lexa eagerly. The woman was obsessed with her, honestly.

"No, it's not."

"Your warriors don't seem to handle Azgeda's cold very well," She commented, her gaze pointedly directed at Octavia, whom she assumed to be the weakest link among her men. If only she knew the strong spirit Octavia possessed...

"Don't worry about them, they are strong of spirit, Azplana. Weather conditions won't end their fight." She replied calmly, reaching her hand into a fruit platter to slide a grape into her mouth as she spoke.

The Queen let out a forced laugh that grated on Lexa's nerves, and Clarke's by extension as she glanced at her.

"Yes, Trikru warriors are strong indeed, aren't they?" Nia asked sarcastically, lifting her wine glass to her lips.

Anya tensed in Lexa's peripheral vision and subtly signaled her not to respond.

"Sha. The best that Kongeda has to offer," Lexa replied with a pretentious tone, secretly pleased to see Nia momentarily freeze at the Commander's audacity.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Heda. My warriors are highly trained, after all. They might surprise you," The Queen retorted with an innocent smile, her veiled threat not going unnoticed by anyone in the room.

"Luckily, they won't have to contend with Trikru anymore, will they, Haiplana?" Lexa asked rhetorically with an undertone, and she could see her gona stifling their amusem*nt behind her, which made her suppress her own smirk.

Nia's lips twisted into a thin line, amusem*nt replaced by quiet fury dancing in her blue-green eyes. She simply nodded reluctantly in response.

They ate in tense silence thereafter, eyeing each other as if poised to pounce, muscles taut. Until Clarke broke the ice.

"Heda, I would very much like the opportunity to train with one of your warriors," She said amiably, but her eyes were calculating, scrutinizing Lexa. The brunette was surprised to see no hatred in Nia's eyes at Clarke's speaking up. In fact, the Queen seemed pleased by the suggestion.

'Whether Princess Clarke wins or loses, it's a win-win situation for Nia. If she loses, it's an opportunity to publicly humiliate her. If she wins, it showcases Azgeda's strength.' The Commander thought, narrowing her eyes momentarily at the older woman before turning to Clarke and silently studying her for a few seconds.

"With whom would you like to train, Hainofi?" she asked slowly, almost disinterestedly. However, it was not disinterest but caution behind her demeanor.

She could see the hatred rising in Nia's eyes again at the royal title for Clarke. It made her uneasy for the blonde. She clenched her jaw, focusing her piercing gaze on Clarke's impenetrable one.

"Your former Fos," The princess replied, glancing at Anya, who couldn't help but chuckle.

"I mean no offense, Hainofi... but it's more or less an even match. You only have half my life, and you're not known for your warrior prowess," The sandy-haired woman stated categorically, her tone dripping with arrogance. Lexa glanced at Nia, who said nothing but had a smug smile on her lips.

Roan looked uncomfortable, his eyes shifting between his sister and the seasoned Trikru warrior.

As for Clarke... She smiled impudently, as if what Anya said was immensely amusing. "Oh, why am I known then?" She asked patiently, raising an eyebrow.

There was that defiant attitude of the princess again.

Anya seemed to ponder how to respond to that question without stirring controversy, so Lexa shot her a dark look. Her former mentor scowled.

"For your beauty," Anya said simply, because it was true.

Nia looked utterly disappointed with Anya's response and completely lost interest in the conversation, turning instead to her son to speak in a low voice.

"Do you think I'm just good for standing around and looking pretty?" The blonde asked thoughtfully, but there was no offense in her tone. Just the attitude of a woman who knew better. And Lexa could see that it unsettled Anya as much as her.

"No, I just think that against someone of my caliber, your warrior skills - not questioning them - won't be of much use," Anya replied tartly, crossing her arms over her chest, which brought Nia back into the conversation.

"You shouldn't underestimate my daughter," She spat the last word with such absolute disgust that Lexa thought she might choke on her own vomit saying it. But her tone was confident, too confident. It made her question the princess's skills. Then again, Nia had always been too arrogant; she probably thought Roan could beat Lexa without breaking a sweat.

Anya said nothing, staring her eyes down on the princess who had yet to respond, merely sipping her drink as if she weren't insulted. Or perhaps, she didn't feel insulted.

"If you're so confident, then do me the honor of learning from my forthcoming defeat at your hands in a training session, Onya kom Trikru," Clarke replied, delicately placing her glass back on the table, her ice-blue eyes piercing into Anya like arrows.

The abrupt change in demeanor caused a pause among the occupants in the room, and Lexa almost rubbed her temples at how the princess was such an unpredictable element in her game. She was like an unsolvable puzzle. Lexa couldn't read her, and she was more than adept at reading people. It was frustrating.

Clearly, it was a strategy to make sure Anya couldn't refuse the offer, judging by the way the blonde Trikru's hazel orbs darkened.

"Ogud, I'll show you how a true gona fights, princess," She spat, and Nia couldn't help but laugh, causing all eyes to turn to her.

"Excuse me, I just find this whole situation... amusing. I haven't had this much entertainment in a while," She explained with an ugly curve of her lips, making the Commander scrunch her nose.

"Delighted to amuse you, Haiplana," Anya retorted sarcastically, and the Queen simply waved her hand vaguely with her broad smile that made Lexa want to draw her sword and cleave her.

"You'll finally meet my Seken, Heda. She's my pride, and I can't wait to introduce you to her," Nia declared, looking directly into Lexa's green eyes - always searching for any reaction. The Commander gave her none.

"What's her name again? Orita?" she asked casually, eliciting a snort from Anya, Octavia, and even the Prince.

Nia clenched her jaw and cleared her throat, quickly correcting herself, "Ontari. I assure you, you'll remember her name very soon, especially given her luck in having a houmon like Costia."

That jab was vicious, and everyone in the room held their breath, except for Clarke, who watched Lexa with a calculating expression. It was as if it were a test, and she was assessing her.

Green eyes locked onto blue as Lexa formulated her response, "I'm sure she could have had better luck," She said slowly, glancing pointedly at Clarke, and everyone was stunned, including the blonde.

The Commander had to fight back a smirk. She had decided to play the game on equal terms. If Nia wanted to use Costia's betrayal against Lexa, then Lexa would use her husband's bastard against Nia as a constant reminder that King Jake had never loved her. 'Let the consequences of Nia's anger fall on the poor princess,' She thought maliciously. She was the Commander; she knew how to use her enemies' weaknesses against them. Pity wasn't going to change that. Besides, anger fueled her far too much as Nia used Costia against her to care.

The Queen scoffed bitterly, "Of course, that's right," She said sarcastically, but the venom in her tone was more than apparent. It had backfired on her.

"Do you know which floor the ceremony will be on, Heda?" Roan asked to redirect the conversation.

Lexa straightened up, "Sha. Wormana Markus has provided me with all the information," She replied, wiping her mouth with a napkin. She saw Lincoln and Octavia subtly exchange glances and be completely absorbed in each other from the corner of her eye, and it made her wonder how they managed to be so naturally at ease here.

"Your presence is eagerly awaited," Nia added, her smug smile back in place, and Lexa had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes.

"Mochof," She simply replied, nodding slightly. She signaled to her gona by subtly raising her index finger, and they all began to prepare.

"If you'll excuse us, Haiplana, my gona and I would like to rest a bit more in our rooms before preparing for the ceremony," Lexa declared curtly, standing up before receiving a response. She saw Nia's hand tighten at her rudeness, and her mouth twisted.

"Of course, it's only natural. I hope you enjoyed our meal together. It was a pleasure to see you and have a discussion with you," The Queen replied coldly, giving her a murderous look. Lexa raised an imperceptible eyebrow at her, subtly taunting her.

"Sha. The pleasure is mine," the Commander said with the most natural and royal air. All these words were nothing but lies and unspoken threats. The joys of politics.

"A pleasure to meet you as well, Hainofa Roan, Hainofi Clarke," She nodded to both of them, which was returned, her gaze lingering on the princess with subtle interest. Just like Roan, she might have future utility for the illegitimate heiress.

The blonde placed her palm over her heart, bowing her head to Heda and her warriors, which made Octavia beam.

"Leidon," murmured the Trigona as they departed.

"Leidon."

"If only I had killed you. Your very existence is an offense to my reign! The fact that you breathe makes me ashamed! Do you realize what you are,striktrash?!" Nia roared as she forced Clarke to remove her shirt, the blonde unable to stop herself from flinching and clenching her fists so tightly that her nails cut into her skin as Nia's knuckles grazed her back, already scarred with old and recent wounds covered as best she could with tattoos.

'Breathe. You're more afraid of her touch than her whip, it's pathetic,' She thought, her chest rising rapidly as shivers ran down her spine and her hairs stood on end. Her palms were sweaty, and her eyes darted around the room wildly. She tried to ground herself, but the contact that lasted barely a second put every muscle in her body on alert.

She heard a rustling behind her and knew what was coming next. It was ironic that the object of her torture was what grounded her.

The whip cracked across her back, and the ensuing pain bordered on total darkness. She struggled to suppress a scream, but only painful moans escaped her lips. Her gaze, filled with fervent intensity, locked onto Nia's eyes as she turned her head.

"Lower your head, you little bastard!" The Queen screamed with rage, forcefully pressing her foot against Clarke's head until she was slammed onto the floor.

The princess clenched her jaw, her skin sweaty with panic at this new contact. 'Remove your foot... Remove your foot... REMOVE YOUR FOOT,' She mentally roared, her heart pounding so rapidly in her chest that it felt like it would implode. Her vision blurred, a vein bulging from her temple as she drifted away from the present.

"Nomon... Nomon! Chit ste dula op?!" She whimpered in fear, panic, and confusion as her mother seized her wrist and dragged her roughly out of the house.

This time, when the whip cracked, it was accompanied by a line of fire that tore across her back, from shoulder to hip. Clarke flinched, a strangled gasp escaping her, though she managed to stifle the scream. She felt blood trickle down her skin; the whip must have contained metal.

"Ai sef oso op, ai fyucha." Her mother's voice was panicked, the voice of someone whose life was spiraling into a nightmare. Clarke didn't know how true that was.

Another crack of the whip and another searing stripe across her back.

She closed her eyes and breathed, trying to endure the pain of the torture as she had since childhood. 'Wasn't this preferable to those visions?' She thought, the physical blows completely distracting her from her psychological turmoil.

She preferred this torture to the actual weakness she harbored.

The next lash intersected with the previous ones, and she whimpered, the taste of copper and salt flooding her mouth as her teeth sank into her lip.

It already felt like her back was torn apart, and there were only three lashes.

Four.

She pressed her forehead against the floor in front of her, a tear streaming down her cheek.

Five.

Her entire body was a canvas of agony, concentrated on her back and shoulders.

'Endure,' She reminded herself. 'Endure. Roan is coming.'

Six.

She could barely breathe; even that was excruciating.

Seven.

Finally, she couldn't hold back her cry, collapsing in her restraints, but the pulling on her shoulders was barely registering compared to the rest of the pain she felt.

Eight.

The lashes kept coming, too fast and too hard for her to keep track, and she lost count. The pain was all there was. She could barely feel when they landed; there was just too much, everything hurt.

"Hod op!" She heard through her daze, as if from a distance.

And miraculously, the whip blows ceased. The pain hadn't lessened, but it wasn't worsening.

She leaned into the respite, seizing the opportunity to breathe, strained as it was. The burning pain in her back made her bite the inside of her cheek.

'Nothing I haven't endured before,' She thought, clenching her already bloodied fists from the force with which her nails had dug into her skin.

"How dare you!" She heard, the pure rage in the familiar voice causing her to lift her head through the haze of her eyes.

"R-Roan..." She groaned, sweat trickling down her temples as her body trembled. No matter how much she had gone through this scenario in the past, Clarke was only human, and the pain was just as intense. The difference was that she knew she would recover this time, unlike the first time she had been whipped.

Her arms trembled, and blood pooled on the floor beneath her, but she straightened up. She suppressed any cry of pain, rising to meet Roan's gaze head-on as if to communicate not to worry, that everything was fine.

But her brother didn't listen and grabbed his own shirt, "Every time you whip her, mother, every blow you inflict on her, you'll have to give them to me too. I thought you knew that," He said with burning hatred as Nia looked at him with equally fiery eyes.

"Why are you so determined to defend this little skrish!" She roared, her voice trembling and breaking with the hatred that twisted her.

"BECAUSE SHE'S MY SISTER! SHE'S MY BLOOD! SHE'S MY FAMILY!" He shouted back, tears shining in his blue eyes.

Nia seized her whip as she struck the floor with such rage that a crack appeared in the hardwood, "I AM YOUR ONLY FAMILY!"

"How can you claim to be my family when you hurt my little sister?! The daughter of nontu?!" He cried, and it was the final straw.

"SHE'S JUST A BASTARD!" She roared as she forced Roan to kneel as well, grabbing her whip with the intent to subject him to the same treatment.

"No!" Clarke cried out, her voice hoarse and broken by her own pain, but Nia called on the royal guards to restrain her. She gasped, trying to break free from their hold, but it was impossible in her weakened state.

Roan simply smiled at her, tears in his eyes not from fear of pain but from the guilt of not being able to protect her.

The last thing Clarke heard before blacking out was the groans of pain from her brother.

Chapter 4: Old days, good days

Chapter Text

Honestly, Lexa was relieved she didn't have to dress differently from her Commander attire for the ceremony. She didn't want to appear as anything other than Heda here, and she certainly didn't want to prepare herself for her ex-lover's traitorous union and the humiliating games of Nia that would follow.

She clenched her jaw tightly, apprehension weighing heavily on her heart. Tonight, she must not be Lexa. Being Lexa would be a weakness, especially in front of Costia and Nia.

She fiddled with her Commander's belt thoughtfully, once again pondering how she should conduct herself tonight. The one certainty was to maintain her facade of power, regardless of Costia's presence. If anything, the fact that it was Costia should motivate her to keep her dominant facade.

She straightened up, readjusting her Heda mask as she forcibly banished any hint of apprehension and pain. No weakness.

Leaving her chambers, she immediately found Gustus and Anya waiting unsurprised. "How long until the ceremony?" She asked, clasping her hands behind her back.

Anya looked grimly at her. "Thirty minutes," She replied, her expression impassive, but Lexa knew Anya well enough to sense her former mentor's rage at the thought of seeing the girl who had broken the Commander's heart and betrayed them all.

Lexa nodded curtly. "Then let's proceed. Is Octavia ready? And Lincoln?"

"Yes, they are both ready. But Octavia is spending time with her brother. I believe she's already at the ceremony," Gustus replied, his expression as dark as Anya's. He had always been overly protective of Lexa.

Lexa frowned disapprovingly. She hadn't authorized Octavia to slip away. The girl still needed to learn; she would discuss it with Indra. Then again, Octavia had inherited that trait from her mother. If the young girl was half the warrior her mother was, perhaps it could make up for her lack of submission.

"Good. Let's go then," she said firmly, raising an eyebrow at Lincoln as he emerged from his room in a handsome Azgeda outfit. He blushed and lowered his head, causing a slight twitch of the Commander's lips. She always found it amusing when her warriors became flustered so easily under her gaze.

Lexa felt a twinge of apprehension. Nia was formidable in her political game, but Lexa was not without resources.

They proceeded together toward the ceremony hall, traversing the richly decorated yet still stark and stony palace corridors under the evening's decorations. Lexa was accustomed to the ostentation of these events, but tonight had a particular hue. Power plays, secret alliances, and clan rivalries were always present as a backdrop.

Entering the grand hall, Lexa surveyed the faces of the guests and clan representatives already present. Octavia was there, conversing with a group of Azgeda warriors. Lexa recognized them as Octavia's brother, Thelonious's son, and Azgeda's genius, Raven. Anya's gaze met Lexa's, exchanging a brief nod before dispersing to take their respective positions.

Lexa took her seat as Heda, dominating the room with her gaze. Nia was already seated, her smile veiled with malice. When their eyes met, Lexa gave her a slight nod, a feigned gesture of respect. Nia's smile widened at this, and the Commander almost felt nauseated. This woman was a devil.

She blinked toward the entrance as the other two members of the royal family arrived. Prince Roan and Princess Clarke. The brunette still saw no signs of contact between the siblings despite their obvious closeness, and she wondered if she would ever see the blonde touch anyone or if she would always have this myth of an untouchable princess.

'Something is off.' She squinted, noticing how slow and tense their movements were. The more she looked, the more strange details she noticed. It was subtle, but it didn't escape Lexa's keen eye. The previous assurance in their stride - when she had met them earlier - was absent. They maintained a royal posture, but the enormous tension in their muscles was visible to the Commander. Their paleness too, and the sweat beading on their foreheads was almost excessive given they were literally from the Ice Nation.

Were they poisoned? Were they ill? Perhaps they had just returned from a training session together and inadvertently injured each other. The third option seemed most likely, so Lexa accepted it.

In any case, she wasn't here to keep an eye on the princess.

Her gaze turned back to Nia with calm, contained hatred in her emerald eyes. 'You are my target tonight, Nia. Not the other way around.' She thought sharply, gripping the armrest of her seat to prevent her hand from trembling with anger. Heda had to remain composed.

She would not give the Ice Queen an opportunity to humiliate her more than she already had.

"She won't let us sit down," Roan grumbled through clenched teeth, his eyes fluttering and sweat dripping from his forehead down to his neck. He looked sickly pale, his chest rising with difficulty and quicker than a normal person's. Yet he managed to maintain an undisturbed facade outwardly.

Clarke didn't look any better, but she showed no sign of discomfort except for the high tension in her muscles. The same sweat beaded on her forehead and the same pallor, but there was nothing she could do about it when every second spent standing and breathing was agony.

"You shouldn't have let her punish you like that," She said softly, clasping her hands behind her back as she glanced around. No seats for the Prince and Princess.

He glanced at her and grunted, "We've had this discussion already."

"I'll keep lecturing you about it, Roan. You're not responsible for your mother's madness," She sighed, lifting her chin in a royal gesture to conceal her urge to grimace. Thankfully, the dim lighting of the room was in their favor because she was sweating far too much. She felt drops on her neck, and it wasn't pleasant, but nothing compared to the immense agony in her back. It wasn't the first time she cursed the leather of her usual attire, considering how it rubbed against her poorly healed wounds and clung to her body.

Her brother looked at her incredulously, "You're my sister, you're my responsibility. Every blow from my mother that I can't protect you from is a sin. You'll never dissuade me from that."

"Stop being so chivalrous," She replied curtly, giving him a dark look.

He simply smiled, though it resembled more of a pained grimace from Clarke's perspective. "You can dream, goufa."

"And stop calling me goufa, old man," She retorted with mock annoyance.

Her brother laughed loudly, though he ended up grimacing due to the pain. He carefully concealed it with a cough, ignoring Clarke's worried glance.

"You're a goufa," He replied weakly after regaining composure, and the blonde rolled her eyes.

"No, I'm seventeen winters."

"That's young."

"You're just jealous because your bones are already weakening like an old man."

Roan looked offended, "Excuse me? I could wipe the floor with you without breaking a sweat!" He growled, and she raised a condescending eyebrow.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, bro."

"You're getting too arrogant, goufa," He pouted, and Clarke smirked at his childish attitude.

"Simply realistic."

"Your reality is false, then."

"My reality is the same as everyone else's."

"Nobody's realistic if that's your definition of reality."

"They just haven't seen me fight," She retorted, smiling as her eyes met Wells' from a distance.

Roan noticed and smirked maliciously, "Skat sends you heart-eyes."

At that, Clarke wrinkled her nose. "He's like a brother to me," She muttered under her breath, horrified by the images that came to mind.

The prince pouted, "I'm your only brother." She chuckled.

"What a pity," She teased, and he huffed in offense.

"What?! Tsk, whatever. Your brotherly love for Wells is one-sided anyway," He pointedly nodded towards the war chief's son who had been staring at Clarke.

She avoided meeting Wells' gaze after that. "And his romantic love is one-sided too."

Roan nearly choked on laughter but managed to contain himself for the sake of his back pain.

"You know he's loved you since you were goufas, right?" He asked, raising an eyebrow, and she glanced at him before slowly nodding.

Roan looked at Wells with pity at that response. The poor boy never stood a chance, no matter how good he was.

"I wouldn't be with anyone, even if I could. I have no romantic interest," She said, clasping her hands behind her back, her gaze turning toward the Commander even as she said this.

She met green eyes already looking at her, and a blush rushed to her cheeks. She immediately tore her gaze away from Heda; she couldn't hold such intense eye contact while discussing love with her brother.

No way.

Fortunately, Roan didn't notice her brief glance at Lexa and simply sighed sadly instead.

"Enough about me, Ro. Tell me about Anya instead..." She said with a smirk and raised eyebrow, pleased to see Roan gulp.

"Anya? What about her?" He asked foolishly, and she gave him a look that said, 'Are you serious right now?'

"You were eyeing her throughout the lovely dinner with the Commander's delegation earlier," She replied after a moment of silence of them staring each other down.

"I was assessing the enemy," He retorted, and the princess's lips trembled.

"In what sense?" She said sarcastically, and he frowned.

"Both," He admitted, and she chuckled softly but stopped midway through her laughter when the movement of her chest reminded her of the dull ache in her back, and she winced.

"Jok," She hissed, a drop of sweat running down her temple. Roan immediately became alert.

"Clarke?" He asked softly, though he wasn't in a better state. She gave him a weak smile and clenched her jaw, maintaining her royal posture despite the pain.

This pain was just a reminder of what her life truly was. The chains that shackled her to this palace. To Nia. The scars were the product of the Queen's mark on her.

Her dark reflection was interrupted when the doors of the hall closed. Clarke hadn't even seen the room fill up because she was distracted by her pain and her brother, which was bad of her. She always had to be aware of her surroundings.

Her gaze shifted between Nia, who was slowly rising from her seat with a smug smile, various clan representatives, and the Commander, and then to the two fiancées holding hands near the door.

"This promises to be interesting," Roan muttered under his breath, and Clarke's gaze returned to the Commander, who wasn't looking at her anymore but had a stony and unyielding gaze fixed on Costia. But from the clench of her jaw and the darkening of her green eyes, Clarke knew better. Especially when Lexa's eyes fell on the clasped hands of Ontari and Costia.

She blinked, realizing how quickly she had managed to see through the Commander when everyone else in the room saw Heda as absolutely impassive.

Costia looked radiant.

And that's what hit Lexa the hardest.

Radiant in someone else's arms. In the arms of the enemy.

In clichés, the betrayed and deceived person wondered what the other had that she didn't.

But for Lexa, it was a brutal realization. It wasn't Ontari who had anything more than Lexa; on the contrary, the mere way the woman strutted with a swagger similar to Nia's told the Commander everything she needed to know.

Costia had always been the sole and unique problem, not Lexa. Lexa had simply been foolish and had chosen the wrong person as a lover. Her judgment had been off. She thought attending this ceremony would hurt, especially seeing the person she loved in the enemy's embrace. But the brunette realized she had never been in love with Costia, only a false version of her.

Costia had never been the kind, loving person Lexa thought she was. The deceit, vice, and betrayal had always been there; it didn't suddenly come about because of Nia. No matter how manipulative the Queen could be, it wasn't enough to turn the mind of someone truly in love and loyal.

Costia's kindness, love, and innocence were tainted with these negative qualities, but Lexa had been naive and blinded by her own love. She had put Costia on a pedestal and only perceived the light, not the shadows.

The ceremony didn't hurt her as she thought it would, and she had to thank Nia for opening her eyes. Seeing Costia again, with her eyes instead of her heart, changed everything. It allowed Lexa to close the chapter on their old relationship and bury it, ending her endless questions.

Just as she felt this lightness settling in her chest from her realizations, Costia looked up and stared directly into her eyes.

Lexa met her gaze without flinching. She felt no guilt at the sudden discomfort in Costia's eyes, only satisfaction. 'You are cut from the same cloth as Nia. You were never my ally,' She bitterly thought.

Love wasn't a weakness. The person Lexa loved, however, was weak. That was the difference.

'Hodnes laik uf taim raunon yu hod in ste yuj,' She thought to herself, locking eyes with Nia with a smirk. One that said her game hadn't worked. That Lexa was still ahead.

Nia watched her cautiously, wondering if Lexa's apparent indifference was a strategy. Whatever she believed, it was better for Lexa if the Queen underestimated her.

Her gaze traveled across the room to a particular person who had captured most of Lexa's attention.

She frowned when she saw that neither the prince nor the princess were in their previous places. 'Where have they gone?' The Commander pondered until her eyes found her.

She stood straight, regal as ever. The embodiment of grace. There was something charismatic in just her stance, the way she tilted her head, or her manner of walking. Everything about her, down to the smallest detail, created endless intrigue. And it wasn't just sexual or romantic interest but a deeper connection.

Beside her was Marcus, and that made Lexa wonder about the relationship she had with the only respectable War Chief of her clan. There was no hint of disdain in Marcus's body language, only respect and even... relaxation. Their relationship seemed as political as it was real.

'That means the princess may have more loyalists in Azgeda than she lets on,' Lexa thought with a suppressed smile. Clarke is more than intelligent.

Whatever Nia thought she was accomplishing by inviting Lexa here, Lexa still had the upper hand. The invitation to Azgeda had allowed her to see things within the clan that she could never have seen from her throne in Polis. It played more into her favor than against it.

Squinting, she could see the same things she saw earlier. She hadn't been dreaming; something was off. The more she looked, the more the princess seemed outright ill. There was too much glistening sweat on her forehead for it to be normal. It should have dissipated by now if it were just from training.

'Has Nia already punished her for the humiliation I caused?' She wondered with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Guilt was bitter.

Her gaze shifted to Roan, 'If so, why does he look as bad as her?'

Nia harbored no hate towards her son; it made no sense.

The Azgeda royal family was a mystery, and Lexa wanted to unravel it.

Her attention shifted when Nia finished her speech and Costia and Ontari began their ceremony.

The Queen watched Lexa the entire time, not missing a single drop of the Commander's reaction. The brunette showed nothing, in fact, she maintained eye contact with Nia with an arrogant raised eyebrow.

'And then?' Her look asked, not bothering to suppress her smirk as the older woman's features contorted in rage.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself, Commander," A husky voice said to her right, and Lexa turned her head to look at the princess.

She looked more than radiant but still sickly, even more so up close.

"And it doesn't seem to be the case for you, Princess," Lexa replied, inclining her head towards her. Her green eyes followed a bead of sweat making its way down the blonde's neck, her gaze resting on the tense vein in Clarke's body.

Lexa absolutely did not have sinful thoughts.

Clarke looked at her with a hint of a smile on her lips, unaware of the Commander's thought process or deciding not to comment on it. "Maybe you don't know the original Troy. It was an ancient city in what is now the closest to Turkey before the bombs. Our name is a shorthand for Detroit; that was the city here before Praimfaya. I like the coincidence, anyway."

She paused, ensuring she had the Commander's full attention before continuing, "The fall of Troy was legendary in Greek mythology. It was a mighty city, but a war broke out after the prince of Troy abducted Helen, wife of Menelaus. The Greeks besieged Troy for ten years but failed to take it." She continued undisturbed, her eyes firm and focused on the two fiancées beginning their official union ceremony.

Lexa was more than impressed by the princess's historical knowledge and was eager to learn more, though she didn't know why Clarke was telling her all this. She raised an eyebrow at the blonde, urging her to continue.

"Eventually, the Greeks used the Trojan horse trick: they built a massive hollow wooden horse and left it outside the city gates, claiming it was a victory gift from the Gods. The Trojans accepted the horse and brought it inside the city. During the night, Greek soldiers hidden inside the horse came out and opened the gates of Troy to the waiting Greek forces." Clarke finally shifted her dark blue eyes back to Heda, looking at her with endless intensity as realization began to dawn on Lexa.

"It was betrayed trust that led to the city's downfall," She finished, raising her chin royally, and Lexa's jaw was now clenched as she understood the unspoken.

Costia could have been your Trojan horse.

"I thank you for your knowledge and for the shared history," She replied, inclining her head, her gaze turning intense as she looked at Costia.

It was a signal she had understood.

Clarke smiled slightly, "Azgeda is rich with knowledge of the Old World." It was a subtle invitation, and Lexa looked again at the younger woman, studying her profile and weighing her words.

"And would you be willing to share that with me?" She asked cautiously, knowing that nothing came for free.

The princess met her gaze again, "Aren't we allies?" She queried significantly, and the Commander couldn't help the slight smile that crept onto her lips.

It was an olive branch she couldn't ignore.

"We are," She affirmed, gazing deeply into the princess's azure eyes. This woman captivated her in every way.

"Very well. I will gladly educate you, Heda. This knowledge must not be lost," Clarke replied with a blank expression, but the quirk of her lips said it all to Lexa.

"It will be my pleasure, Hainofi."

The ceremony was drawing to a close, and Lexa had scarcely diverted her attention from the princess, their interaction replaying constantly in her head. Costia and Nia were now relegated to the depths of her mind as she let her eyes wander every few minutes to find Clarke's royal silhouette.

The woman had limited her movements, another sign of discomfort that Lexa hadn't missed. When the Commander had asked about it, Clarke had remained mysterious, deflecting the question.

The prince seemed less resilient than his sister and had excused himself from the ceremony some time ago. Whatever the Royal Highnesses had, it was quite serious, and Lexa had been deceiving herself from the start by pretending she felt no concern for the princess.

But the way she watched Clarke's every move for signs of weakness, like an overprotective mother hen, said otherwise.

'What has she done to me?' A part of the Commander wondered if Clarke had bewitched her.

Beware of still waters, said the proverb of the Old World.

When there were few left at the ceremony, Lexa took the opportunity to quietly excuse herself as a Commander preoccupied could. She was just at the corridor's exit when she heard hurried footsteps behind her and a familiar voice.

"Lexa, wait!"

Costia.

The brunette clenched her jaw and stopped but didn't turn as the other woman finally caught up to her.

"Lexa—" Costia began with desperation, but the Commander cut her off with a raised hand.

"It's Hedafor you," She interjected coldly, turning around. It was a warning that she wouldn't tolerate Costia's disrespect any more than any of her gona.

Her ex-lover's eyes widened in horror. "I... Um... Moba, Heda," She cleared her throat awkwardly, her cheeks reddening as Lexa showed her no mercy and continued to regard her with dry expectation.

"I just... I never had the chance to apologize," She stammered, lowering her head, and Lexa almost scoffed with disdain.

"What? Regret being a natrona of the worst kind?" She asked sarcastically, and Costia flinched as tears welled up in her eyes.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, Lexa. I truly loved you," She pleaded, searching for anything that could anchor her in the Commander's green eyes.

She found no trace of the love she hoped to see, nor the pain caused by the betrayal of love. Just coldness and emptiness. Costia meant nothing to her anymore.

"Heda," The Commander reminded, placing her hand on the hilt of her sword for a final warning, and Costia's mouth fell open in shock.

"You... You feel nothing for me anymore?" She murmured almost in denial, the disbelief clouding her mind. It couldn't be. This wasn't the loving, lovestruck Lexa she remembered.

"What am I supposed to feel for a natrona other than disgust?" Lexa retorted sharply, tilting her head.

"What we had together—" Costia attempted, but the Commander cut her off again.

"—Is over. The past doesn't matter anymore, Costia. You are nothing to me now, except a traitor, and you better remember that," The ice in Lexa's eyes and voice was enough to make her ex-lover's knees tremble, but Lexa didn't care. "Enjoy your happy union with the enemy," The Commander added with finality, lifting her chin in a superior manner before turning around and walking away without remorse or ever looking back.

"By dancing too much with masks, we forget the face we hide," Taunted the unwavering voice of the princess, and Costia flinched as she finally collapsed.

Costia may have forgotten her own face, but Lexa had found the true face she was hiding.

Chapter 5: Who is she ?

Chapter Text

"How much longer do you intend to endure this?" Raven asked sharply, the cold anger in her tone reflecting both concern and pain.

She tended to Clarke's wounds, her expression dark as Clarke struggled not to grimace. Raven was careful not to touch her directly, well aware of the princess's intense aversion to any form of contact. She never knew why, but she never dared to try. And she had good guesses about it.

How could someone who endured constant physical abuse from Nia appreciate any form of touch? Clearly, Clarke despised them.

"The stars in the sky are fixed, Raven. They don't seek to change their trajectory; they belong where they are," Responded the blonde as calmly as she could with treatment on her wounds and her back exposed.

The brunette grunted, "That's nonsense! Your place isn't to be Nia's lackey. You were born into royalty, Clarke. You were born for greatness; being a bastard doesn't change that. Open your eyes! You're the damn leader our people need!" Her voice trembled, and Clarke couldn't tell if it was contained rage or because Raven was crying.

"Rae..." She murmured, her throat tight. How was she supposed to change that? Clarke wanted it, damn it, she wanted it so badly. She wanted to be the leader her people needed, someone they could place their hopes and dreams in. Someone who would uplift the nation and make them happy.

But how could she, when she was just a bastard? Her own people didn't accept her, and the only thing drilled into her head was that she deserved every bad thing that happened to her just for breathing.

"A star shines, Clarke. It's not meant to fade away, so don't fade away; shine." A drop of water landed on the princess's back, and this time she was certain Raven was crying.

"How?" She asked, burying her head deeper into the pillow as Raven finished tending to her wounds.

"By being you. By stopping hiding. The person you are, Clarke, is what our people need. You're the best leader I've ever seen, so don't hide. I know you think about it; I know you even have plans, so act," Her best friend replied seriously as Clarke sat up and looked up at Raven.

"Do you really believe that?" It was rare for Clarke to allow herself to be vulnerable, but she needed this reassurance.

She thought about it, yes, thought about it until it kept her awake at night. The idea of overthrowing Nia, finally taking what was rightfully hers, was always in the back of her mind and growing every day. Clarke wasn't meant to be a caged bird. Freedom, she desired it fiercely. And she wanted to bring her people with her.

Could she do it?

She thought she could do it better than Nia, at least.

"Sha, I believe in you wholeheartedly. Everyone who truly knows you believes in you because they know what you mean to Azgeda," Raven reached out automatically but retracted halfway with an apologetic face when Clarke flinched.

"I can't overthrow the Queen if our people don't respect me," Replied the blonde with a sigh. The brunette simply smiled.

"Stop pretending to pity yourself when I know you have a plan to earn our people's respect and seize power," Raven teased with a smirk, and the princess smiled slightly in return.

"Wisdom is the key," she said thoughtfully, her blue eyes darkening as she contemplated.

"Just trust yourself as we trust you, princess," Raven murmured sincerely, and the blonde lifted her head to her friend.

"Strength is the gateway," She continued, looking straight into Raven's eyes, who groaned in exasperation.

"More of your old man's sayings?" She waved her arms dramatically, causing Clarke's lips to twitch.

"Compassion is the entrance," She finished, raising her chin royally, and Raven rolled her eyes but smiled.

"That's your way of saying the three pillars of any leader are strength, compassion, and wisdom," She retorted, rummaging through the princess's closet, tossing a nightshirt at her to cover up while muttering about liking boobs but not wanting to see her best friend's during such a conversation.

Clarke snorted and put on the nightshirt, "These are Heda Leksa's. Her teachings are true," She emphasized, and Raven sighed.

"Speaking of the Commander, I saw no reaction from her at the ceremony; I must say I'm disappointed," The brunette declared dramatically, and Clarke's lips formed a thin line.

"It's not a spectacle, Rei. The Queen is jeopardizing peace with her provocations. The Commander is the best leader ever seen; Costia almost ruined that with her betrayal," She said, a furrow between her brows. Clarke believed that Heda had learned her lesson about Costia.

She was sure her judgment wasn't wrong; the lady was the Commander in this chess game that was Twelve Clans politics.

"Whatever, she seems heartless anyway," Sighed Raven as Clarke lay on her stomach, facing sideways.

"Heda is," She murmured almost under her breath, her thoughts filled with sparkling green eyes beyond the imperturbable facade and ghost of a smile on plump lips.

'But Lexa isn't.'

"She's talked to you a lot; I find it strange. No offense, Clarke, but outwardly you're just a rejected bastard princess. Why would Heda be interested in you?" Raven asked with a calculating gleam in her eyes, slightly furrowing her brow.

Clarke remembered the green eyes wandering over her figure and stifled a smile. Oh, the Commander definitely thought the princess had seen nothing.

"The enemy of your enemy is your friend," She quoted instead, running her fingers over the warm fabric of her furs contentedly.

Anyway, it was true. Clarke wasn't foolish enough to think the Commander's interest was solely centered on an attraction to the princess. The leader could assess people and quickly surmised that Clarke was not someone to underestimate or make an enemy of.

That suited her just fine; the Commander would take her seriously, which would facilitate Clarke's plans. Establishing a relationship with the leader of the Twelve Clans was important. And if she could use a bit of her charms, that was a bonus.

The princess would be lying, however, if she said her interest was solely political, but she greatly preferred not to explore that territory at all. It would always be the Commander and the Princess; there would never be any form of courtesy beyond politics.

"I'm sure she's seen how amazing you are," Raven commented with a proud smile, and Clarke shook her head in amusem*nt.

"Sure," She muttered, closing her eyes. She was too tired from the day and her wounds to discuss further.

Raven noticed and furrowed her brow with concern, not that Clarke could see her face, but she was sure her best friend was giving her that look.

"You know that news of you challenging Anya has spread like wildfire, right?" She said reproachfully, and the princess felt her eyebrows knit together.

It was 'The Talk'.

"Sha," She simply responded casually, showing no visible concern.

Raven made a strangled noise above her, and she felt the bed sink with added weight. "Clarke! You can't go up against her in this state. I don't doubt your abilities, but even in your normal state, Anya isn't someone to mess with. And you, princess, want to fight her after receiving a damn fifteen lashings?" She ranted frantically, half expecting the blonde to reason with her.

Instead, Clarke opened one eye and stared at Raven in a long, intimidating silence with a look that said, 'Try me.'

The brunette let out a frustrated groan, "Clarke!"

The princess sighed and rolled her eyes, sitting up. "Raven, have faith in me. I wouldn't go fight if I couldn't handle it," She said with boredom in her tone. Why did her friends question her skills so often?

"I'm worried, Clarke!" Raven snapped harshly as if she heard her thoughts, clenching her fists, and the blonde looked at her with genuine surprise.

"For me?" She almost timidly questioned, like a child receiving a precious gift.

Her best friend's eyes softened considerably at that. No matter how tough, resilient, and wise Clarke kom Azgeda seemed, deep down she remained a child who had grown up too fast and too harshly in a world that constantly rejected her and made her believe she had no worth. Raven bit her lip, a strong urge to hug Clarke overwhelming her but she refrained.

"Yes, Clarke. I worry about you," She confirmed in a softer tone, affectionately gazing at Clarke's face almost imperceptibly lighting up. But there was that shy happiness present in those eyes, as well as genuine warmth.

"Then don't worry about me, Rei. Just trust me. I'm not conceited or too proud. I know what I'm doing," Clarke told her sincerely with a hint of a genuine smile on her lips, her piercing blue eyes pleading for her to listen.

Raven frowned, wondering if she should give in. Clarke raised her own eyebrow at her, her features forming a face that the brunette knew well.

Will you defy me ?

That was the unspoken question in her gaze, her eyes dominating Raven, and her best friend couldn't hold that gaze. She lowered her head in submission.

"I trust you," She murmured sincerely, regretting having been so foolish. Of course, Clarke wouldn't go charging into something like that without a plan.

The blonde smiled and lay back down, "I genuinely appreciate your concern, Raven," She murmured wearily, closing her eyes.

Raven took that as a signal to leave but made sure to tuck the princess in properly to ensure her best friend wouldn't get cold.

"Reshop, ai prisa," She said softly.

Her only response was a peaceful smile.

Arriving at the training ground, Clarke could see that it was packed. And for once, it wasn't filled with warriors training but with spectators alone.

She should have felt stressed, but she didn't at all. Not even the hateful murmurs of her own people reached her. She walked slowly but confidently towards the center of the field, her sword securely fastened to her hip.

Unsurprisingly, the Commander was there with Anya, along with the Trikru delegation. Out of the corner of her eye, Clarke could spot Raven, Bellamy, Wells, Murphy, Miller, and Harper. There were even Ontari and Costia, surely not to miss an opportunity to witness Clarke's humiliation for Ontari and to show off for Costia.

Nia was not present, but Clarke knew it was only for dramatic effect and that she would soon arrive. The blonde knew what to expect when she proposed this sparring match. It was her chance. Her chance for exhibition. Her chance to earn her people's respect. Her chance to free herself from shadows.

She locked eyes directly with Anya, a silent challenge.

The blonde Trikru responded without flinching, lifting her chin, and Clarke felt her lips tremble.

"Sop, Heda, Onya," She said calmly, placing her palm over her heart and slightly tilting her head.

She watched with surprise as the Commander mirrored her greeting, and with a slight warmth in her chest. Roan was the only one who adapted to Clarke in this way.

"Sop, Hainofi," The two women responded neutrally.

Octavia approached the princess with genuine interest. "Do you think you'll win, Hainofi?" She asked, raising an eyebrow, and Clarke gave her a patient look.

"The purpose of this training isn't about winning, Octavia. You'll understand soon enough," She replied, turning her attention back to Anya, who was watching her as if trying to decipher the princess.

The young warrior blinked. "Why train if it's not about showcasing the clans?"

Clarke smiled slightly. "I never said it wasn't about showcasing. There's a difference between showing and winning," She told her, looking at her with warm eyes. Clarke struggled to warm up to people, but Octavia was a unique and endearing warrior with tremendous potential. The fact that she was Bellamy's younger sister was a bonus.

"So you don't plan on winning?" Lexa asked, raising a curious eyebrow, and Clarke locked her eyes with hers.

"I never said that," She replied briefly, and Anya made a sound of annoyance.

"Regardless, princess. Whatever your goal is, you won't win," She said firmly, and Clarke's eyes turned towards her.

"Arrogance is not a virtue of a warrior, Onya," She declared sharply, but there was a hint of amusem*nt that grated on the nerves of the older blonde.

"There's a distinction between arrogance and justified confidence," Anya retorted, clenching her jaw, causing Clarke to raise an eyebrow.

"Oh really?" She asked rhetorically, almost provocatively, and not flinching under Anya's deadly gaze, meeting it with her own.

Their hostile eye contact was broken as the crowd suddenly fell silent, and Clarke didn't need to turn around to know that the Queen had arrived.

"Haiplana Nia," Lexa greeted wearily, her gaze fixed over Clarke's shoulder.

The blonde turned around and inclined her head towards her stepmother in a falsely polite gesture. Of course, she was ignored as she expected.

Her gaze, however, settled on Roan, who was staring at her with the concern of an older brother gone mad, and she made eye contact with him, conveying, 'Don't worry.'

He nodded at her, but Clarke could still see the tension in his muscles and knew it was both from pain and worry.

She didn't have time to dwell on it as the War Chief Thelonious approached with a horned trumpet in hand. He looked at them in turn.

"Hashta solou gonplei. Bilaik won hedon noumou: Teik jus pram!" The man shouted, and everyone began to back away until only Clarke and Anya remained on the field.

The princess locked eyes intensely with Lexa as the Commander clenched her jaw as if about to say something but ultimately decided to stay silent and step back.

The blonde gave her a slight smile before composing her features into an impassive mask and looking at Anya.

Her time was about to come.

As for the Commander, she observed Nia taking her place among the privileged spectators with a calculating smile. Lexa's expression remained stoic, but she could feel the Queen's sharp eyes weighing on her like honed blades.

Nia spoke with a honeyed voice laced with implications. "Commander Lexa, ever stoic in these troubled times. I assume you've come to watch this spectacle with keen interest."

The brunette responded measuredly. "My interest lies in the stability of our coalition, Queen Nia. This sparring is an opportunity to strengthen the bonds between our clans, despite our differences."

The Queen smirked knowingly. "Ah, diplomacy. Always your weapon of choice, Heda. But I wonder, is it your intention to let the princess challenge Anya knowing her lackluster reputation? It could be seen as a weakness on your part."

"I prefer not to gamble on an outcome of a fight based on reputation. My instinct tells me the princess is stronger than she appears," Lexa replied without flinching.

"And what do you gain by supporting her, Heda?Is it a political maneuver or a genuine conviction?" Nia questioned, raising an eyebrow with disdain.

Lexa held her gaze unwaveringly. "Both, Queen Nia. I do not make decisions lightly."

The older woman smiled with a hint of challenge. "Interesting. You are far more intriguing than your predecessor, Heda. But remember, power games do not forgive weakness, even for a Commander."

The Commander inclined her head slightly, a cold glint in her eyes. "And power games do not tolerate undue arrogance either, Haiplana. We should focus on the harmony of our clans rather than seek unnecessary conflicts."

The Queen let out a short, biting laugh. "Always so wise and impassive, Heda. But time will tell if this wisdom will serve you or undo you."

Lexa remained silent, but her unwavering gaze spoke volumes. She knew this sparring match was about more than just a display of skill. The political and personal stakes were heavy, and she was prepared to play this game with all the determination she could muster.

Nia finally averted her gaze, but Lexa sensed that this was only the beginning of a confrontation that extended beyond the boundaries of the training arena.

A chilling gust of wind pierced their skin as Thelonious raised the horned trumpet to his lips, and the Commander shivered.

It was time.

The trumpet's blast resounded.

Clarke and Anya drew their swords, but neither attacked immediately. They eyed each other like hawks, searching for any weakness.

Clarke could feel her back burning, but the salve and soft cotton bandages helped alleviate the pain. She had opted for a more comfortable attire than her usual leather, along with simple yet effective armor for sparring.

There was a longer moment of silence before the two combatants simultaneously lunged at each other as the crowd roared.

Their initial exchanges were lightning-fast and dynamic. Anya thrusts, Clarke dodges, she counters while retreating, while the other woman skillfully evades in turn. They clashed, assessing each other's reactions and agility, while Lexa watched keenly as the rest of the duel unfolded before her. Anya targeted Clarke's vital areas without hesitation: chest, throat, abdomen, as if the goal of this fight was death. Each attack was calculated to be lethal, while Clarke's sword sliced through the air aiming at any available part of Anya, whether the throat or biceps. Anya's strategy exploited every inch of her space, constantly staying out of reach of Clarke's weapon.

The movements were quick, almost hypnotic, as the two warriors relentlessly harried each other. Clarke sought to assert herself, to find a chink in her opponent's defense, but Anya was agile and calculating, always staying just out of reach. Every feint, every parry, every strike was executed with impressive mastery. They closed in on each other a dozen times with the sound of blades clashing violently but failing to land a blow on each other's defenses.

Lexa watched intently with her heart pounding furiously with surprise and interest, her gaze scrutinizing every detail of the battle. She could see the determination in Clarke's eyes, her will to prove her worth, but also the cold assurance of Anya, who seemed determined to defend her honor.

The crowd held its breath with each exchange, murmurs rising as the battle seemed evenly matched. Clarke felt adrenaline coursing through her veins, her mind focused on every movement, every feint. She had to prove her worth, not only to Anya but also to herself and her people.

The blades continued to clash, creating a metallic symphony in the air. Clarke was swept up in the rhythm of the fight, seeking to anticipate her opponent's moves, to find an opening. Each blow was a test of her determination, her resilience.

Suddenly, the princess launched a rapid series of attacks, forcing Anya to retreat. Clarke's sword grazed her opponent's arm, leaving a slight scratch but not drawing blood. Spectators held their breath, sensing a turning point in the fight.

Clarke had already completely shocked them.

Anya briefly smiled, a mix of respect and challenge in her eyes. She had sensed Clarke's determination, her will to fight to the end. But she wasn't about to give up easily. The duel was far from over.

Nia practically exclaimed next to Lexa, while Roan seemed on the verge of fainting every time Anya's sword came too close to his sister.

The Commander felt every part of her gripped by admiration and apprehension as she watched the Ice Princess move. Because she knew better. She knew that Clarke was not at her best, there was a hitch in her movements that demonstrated it, yet she managed to match Anya. It made her wonder about the blonde's true level if she were at her peak.

The crowd roared loudly as Clarke's blade clashed abruptly against Anya's. The two warriors glared fiercely at each other before Trigona raised her foot to strike a violent blow to the princess's ribs. However, the younger blonde managed to move out of reach enough not to receive the full force of the blow, but winced nonetheless as Anya successfully made contact.

Anyatouchedher.

Something suddenly exploded within her as her eyes widened, and her teeth clenched, and suddenly she lost control and became wild.

An animalistic gleam lit up her eyes, a mix of rage and raw determination. Without hesitation, she attacked with uncontrollable fury. Each movement was brutal, each strike delivered with devastating force.

Anya, taken aback by this sudden explosion of violence, retreated under the princess's relentless assault. Clarke was no longer the same. She was no longer the calculating and reserved young woman. She had become a force of nature, striking with shocking intensity.

The spectators, astonished, witnessed Clarke's transformation. Cheers and encouragements mixed with the sound of clashing blades. No one had anticipated this ferocity.

The Trikru warrior, despite her experience, was on the defensive, seeking to contain the princess's furious onslaught. Clarke seemed impervious to pain, showing no signs of fatigue. She was fueled by raw, almost animalistic energy.

Blows rained down, brutal and deafening. Clarke gave no respite to Anya, unleashing her anger and determination on her opponent. Each blow seemed to chip away at the princess's former restraint.

Sweat beaded on the foreheads of both combatants, and Anya felt disconcerted, unable to counterattack and having to focus solely on defense due to the brutal assault. Her only hope was that the young princess would tire, if Anya did not tire first.

Her eyes widened in horror as her grip on her blade loosened due to a particularly brutal strike against her sword that twisted her wrist at an uncomfortable angle due to the force used, and she winced. She tried to move back out of Clarke's reach, but the blonde followed relentlessly, and Anya found herself defenseless.

The princess's blade descended toward her leg just as the sound of the horn's cry rang out, freezing both combatants and the crowd.

"Hashta gonplei ste odon! Jus flou op," Thelonious yelled, and Anya's brow furrowed in confusion. She hadn't been hit...

There were gasps among the crowd as Clarke lowered her gaze to the pool of blood beneath her, staining the snow red.

"Jok," She gasped, her eyes fluttering suddenly as the adrenaline dissipated. Her throat contained so much agony that the veins swelled in her neck visibly. Her hands trembled, and her grip on her sword slackened, letting it fall into the snow. She was extremely pale and breathing heavily, and Anya realized that the princess had already been injured before the fight.

"Onya kom Trikru win hashta gonplei!" Thelonious continued, but there was no cheering, neither from Azgeda nor Trikru, as everyone stood frozen.

Clarke suddenly collapsed into the blood-stained snow, and Roan's cry echoed through the training ground.

Chapter 6: Unmasked

Chapter Text

Describing the Azgeda people as merely in a state of excitement following the sparring match between the Azgeda bastard princess and the legendary Onya kom Trikru would be an understatement. Clarke's display of strength left them utterly shocked, yet pleasantly so.

What further shocked them was the outcome of the victory. Anya was accused of cheating because no one knew what had happened to the princess, but one thing was certain; she was in a pitiful state before the match even began.

This sparked another wave of fierce admiration, with the once scorned or ignored princess becoming the sole topic of conversation in the unusually bustling streets of Azgeda. The capital was even worse, with crowds clamoring and cheering for the princess.

It was more than an accomplishment to fight Trikru's best general in a state of weakness and agony caused by severe injuries before the match, but to equalize and even surpass her? That was something else.

Not to mention the sheer display of brutality from the typically calm and even invisible princess, which only caused the crowd to roar with approval at the spectacle and demonstrated strength.

Princess Clarke was not the weak girl they believed her to be, and this meant something to the people of Azgeda, especially after witnessing her combat abilities. Everyone was ecstatic, and Anya's honor was honestly tainted just like that of Trikru for an undeserved victory. Of course, the blonde general was not responsible for Clarke's injuries, but the victory indeed belonged to the princess.

The new facet shown by Clarke represented a fresh opportunity for the Ice Nation, a new place carved in the hierarchy that even her princess status alone could not confer upon her.

The blonde's plan was in motion; with status came the respect that accompanied it.

Roan wasted no time rushing to his unconscious sister and calling upon the finest healers Azgeda had, including Jackson, who was Clarke's mother's former Seken.

However, he was severely limited in resources due to the Queen's disregard for healers. He lacked what was needed, and honestly, with the nasty tears in the princess's skin on her back and the hemorrhaging from reopened wounds, he struggled to provide adequate care.

Nia slipped away without a word, not caring much whether the blonde lived or died. She had spared her out of utility, but if she died here, then it meant she was too weak and thus didn't deserve to be kept alive. For some reason, the Queen was certain Clarke would survive. The bastard had a knack for surviving whatever was thrown her way.

As for the Commander, she had been busy dispersing the crowd, and for reasons that eluded Roan, had helped arrange the unconscious princess and had her own warriors fetch everything Jackson needed to work.

There were too many people in the narrow palace room for Roan's liking. Bellamy, Raven, Wells, Murphy, Miller, Harper, and Echo were all scattered like protective hens in the room, whispering and casting wild, worried glances that did nothing to ease Roan's stress. The Commander was also present with Lincoln, Gustus, Anya, and Octavia, but remained silent, her eyes fixed on the princess's figure with an unreadable expression.

"Jok, this is going to be complicated," Jackson murmured as he tore Clarke's shirt with a dagger. He had to maintain composure in the face of the gruesome wounds; they were not pretty and bleeding profusely, visibly fresh. Blood mingled with the ink of the princess's tattoos but didn't obscure the old scars, some recent, others less so, that closely resembled Clarke's current ones.

Octavia gasped in horror, while Trigona's eyes widened in shock and pity. Lexa couldn't describe what she felt at the sight. The surge of emotions was too overwhelming for her, but she cared for some reason and swallowed, her eyes wandering over Clarke's bloodied back numbly.

It was her fault.

This time, the Azgona remained silent in the face of Clarke's extensive injuries. It was a sign they knew what was going on. They wore very dark expressions, distorted by horror, pain, fear, worry, anger, or guilt. But none dared to act or speak, as Lexa guessed they were facing Nia.

"Save her, Jackson!" The prince growled, his features twisted with fear, his voice trembling, turning away from Trikru warriors and the Commander to hide his moment of weakness.

"I need an extra pair of hands, Hainofa!" Jackson replied urgently as he struggled to clean the blood and stem the hemorrhage. At that, Lexa suddenly straightened.

"Gustus, go fetch Nyko. He's with the TonDC delegation," The Commander ordered swiftly, urgency in her voice, and the tall man obeyed immediately without asking questions.

Lexa approached Jackson. "Stabilize her as best you can. Buy time; my most talented fisa will be here soon," She said coldly, her eyes burning into the Azgeda healer's with such intensity that he felt his knees shake in fear.

"Sha, Heda," He replied weakly and refocused on Clarke's wounds. He was doing what he could, and it was purely the fisa's talent that was keeping Clarke in a relatively stable state.

Raven, at the back of the room, was visibly agitated. She muttered curses under her breath, fists clenched in anger. Her gaze never left Clarke's pale face, as if she were trying to channel her own energy into her unconscious friend.

"Stay calm, Raven," Bellamy murmured, placing a hand on her shoulder to halt her pacing. She shrugged off his grip and shot him a deadly look.

"Don't touch me!" She snapped harshly, earning a severe glance from the Commander. Murphy rolled his eyes and leaned towards Raven.

"Our princess has endured worse," He said casually, but everyone knew enough about the boy to recognize the underlying concern in his tone. Miller and Harper whispered quietly, their nervous glances flicking towards Clarke every five seconds, while Echo bit her lip.

Wells remained silent, his face blank like an empty page, and everyone knew that was his way of coping, of not breaking down. The poor young man was hopelessly in love with the princess, and seeing her in such a state was unbearable for the War Chief's son's sensitive heart.

Roan leaned over and murmured softly to Clarke in Trigedasleng, stroking her golden hair, ensuring it didn't touch her wounds. The affectionate way he did this melted Lexa's heart - not that she would ever admit it - and she realized it was the first time she had seen the princess have any physical contact with someone.

She had no doubt the prince allowed himself to touch her only because Clarke was unconscious.

She clenched her jaw, feeling a knot in her stomach. She didn't know what to think. Lexa was so surprised, so guilty, and so... filled with admiration, it was overwhelming. And worried for some reason. Why did she feel such emotion for someone who wasn't among her few close companions? She wouldn't even feel this for Lincoln and Octavia, and they were quite familiar to Lexa by now.

'Yu gonplei nou ste odon,' She thought firmly, her gaze burning into Clarke's unconscious body. She toyed with the belt holding her sword in place, trying to grapple with these confusing conflicting feelings. One thing was certain: she absolutely did not wish for the princess's death. The woman had intrigued her to a point of no return. Strong spirits in this world were rare, losing one as powerful as Princess Klark kom Azgeda would be a true tragedy.

The door opened urgently, Nyko entering with Gustus on his heels. "You requested my aid, Heda?" He asked, his gaze shifting between the princess and the Commander.

She looked at him darkly. "Sha. Fis em op, Naiko," she ordered sternly, her expression conveying something that made the healer stiffen and hasten to assist Jackson.

"Heda, I'd prefer fewer people in the room," Nyko said softly as he surveyed the numerous wounds with a pale face, not to mention the numerous scars that told him this wasn't a first.

The Commander turned her gaze to Lincoln, Octavia, and Gustus, while Roan looked at the Azgona.

"Bellamy and Raven, stay. The rest, leave," He commanded, his face so severe that none of them voiced a protest despite their strong wills to do so. Likewise, Lincoln, Octavia, and Gustus exited. This left only Lexa, Anya, Roan, Bellamy, Raven, and the two healers in the room.

"What happened to her?" Lexa demanded sharply, fixing her gaze on the prince, who could barely tear his eyes away from his sister's bleeding wounds.

He glanced at her and bit his lip. "It's a family matter, Heda," He replied weakly, while Bellamy and Raven tensed. Clearly, it told the Commander everything she needed to know.

"The Queen is responsible." It wasn't a question, just a statement, but Roan nodded nonetheless, his hands trembling and his eyes brighter than they should be. He clearly cared deeply for his sister.

"And you let her fight me in this condition?" Anya demanded, crossing her arms, though her gruff demeanor hid pure admiration and respect for the princess who had nearly won—and likely would have won—the day after enduring a torture session without proper healing. Her ego remained bruised nonetheless.

Raven flinched at that. "I tried to dissuade her last night when I tended to her wounds. She wouldn't listen and told me to trust her," She murmured, her voice heavy with helplessness.

Lexa looked at the three Azgeda in the room, undoubtedly close to the princess, and couldn't help but wonder what kind of relationship Clarke had managed to forge here despite her status. It wasn't surprising that even with everything working against her, she managed to make allies. It took only one meeting with the princess for the Commander to recognize just how intriguing Clarke was as a woman.

"She's stubborn," Bellamy sighed, crossing his arms. The Commander didn't miss the dark glances he shot her way, but she didn't mind.

"It's... impressive," She admitted reluctantly.

Anya grunted, "Being suicidal isn't impressive, Heda."

"You say that because she kicked your ass and you don't want to admit it," Raven retorted sullenly, and the Trikru general shot her a glare, about to reply, but Lexa's deadly look made her reconsider.

"Now is not the time for your childish squabbles," The Commander declared coldly, looking at each of them in turn, and they all lowered their heads reluctantly.

"How is she? " Roan asked frantically, while Jackson marveled at Nyko's fisa supplies.

Nyko took a deep breath before answering, his eyes scanning the worried faces around him. "She's seriously injured, but we're doing everything we can to stabilize her and start the healing process. She's strong, but she'll need rest and intensive care."

He was puzzled by his Commander's interest in the bastard princess but preferred not to question it and focused on his work.

Roan nodded, a mix of relief and lingering anxiety on his face. "Do what you can, Fisa kom Trikru. She doesn't deserve this..."

He glanced at the prince but then nodded slowly, assisting Jackson in tending to the wounds now that they had managed to stop the bleeding.

Unable to stay still, Raven began speaking quietly to Bellamy. "We should have talked her out of it. She's only human, how could we be so reckless..."

Bellamy shook his head slightly. "You know Clarke. She's too stubborn, no one can talk her out of anything. With or without our consent, she would have fought Anya."

Meanwhile, Jackson and Nyko continued their work with intense focus. Clarke remained unconscious, her breath faint but steady. Minutes seemed to drag on in the room, each moment filled with an almost palpable tension. Bellamy, Raven, and Roan stood close to Clarke, waiting anxiously for positive news.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jackson straightened up, wiping sweat from his brow. "She's going to pull through, we've patched up and stitched her wounds. Now it's just a matter of time and rest. She absolutely mustn't overexert herself like she did today." The last part was added with a meaningful glance towards Roan, who nodded in understanding.

He himself was in a dreadful state, his own wounds still causing him silent agony, and he couldn't fathom how his sister had managed to fight in such a condition. This woman defied the Spirits themselves.

"I'll make sure she doesn't strain herself," He replied, affectionately running his hand through Clarke's tangled hair. These were the only moments he could touch her without risking seeing his sister curl up in a corner—or sprint away holding her limb and muttering wildly about her mother—or risking losing his hand.

His eyes darkened as he remembered her reaction when Anya managed to breach her defense and strike her. That's what caused all this trouble in the first place; her calm and controlled demeanor had given way to murderous frenzy. During training with him or Clarke's enemies, she had built an untouchable reputation by actively focusing on avoiding getting hit as if it were deadly to her. None of them had succeeded; it was the first time in years that the blonde had to deal with a blow, and of course, it had escalated.

When Nia brought her to the palace, she was only five summers old and completely traumatized, but she immediately bonded with Roan, who adored her from the moment he laid eyes on her. He would burn the world for this little girl of his blood who had suddenly entered his world.

He soon realized that something was wrong, by the way she gradually seemed to struggle to remember her time before arriving at the palace, seeming to go into shock when she tried to talk about it and suddenly no longer handling Roan's touch on her. However, when they weren't talking about it, she was an affectionate little girl with her big brother, and even Wells and Marcus.

Roan could only blame this on his mother, who only accentuated Clarke's traumas with her physical, psychological, and emotional abuse. The older Clarke grew, the more violence she endured, the more she gradually distanced herself from contact, and the more she lost her memories before she was brought back into the hell that Nia had built for her. Until one day, it reached the point of no return, and Roan never dared touch her again.

— Flashback —

"Your hands are filthy," He muttered, a frown on his face as he poured warm water over his sister's two small hands. She raised an eyebrow at him, as if to scold him for stating the obvious. War paint covered her young twelve-winter-old face, her eyes framed with black paint, and recent Azgedan scars descended from her temples to her cheeks.

"That's what happens after being sent to the front," She retorted nonetheless, and he sighed.

"I suppose," He said, but his tone betrayed his discontent. She didn't respond, merely staring back at him with distant, cold eyes.

In recent months, their relationship had often been like this. More distant, they saw each other less frequently, and especially, they were less physical. Roan had initially assumed it was a phase that seemed to affect young people in his sister's age group, this aversion to touch. But as time passed and their embraces grew shorter, until they no longer hugged at all and even small touches became rare before Clarke recoiled from him as if he were burning her, he quickly concluded otherwise.

He wondered what was wrong with her, but of course, she remained closed off both verbally and physically. It hurt him deeply, and he reasoned that it was because of the war raging recently, especially since the new Heda was attempting her Kongeda project and gaining more and more support from the clans, turning them against Azgeda. Nia had immediately seized the opportunity to send Clarke to the army led by War Chief Marcus on the southeast border.

His sister was now experiencing firsthand horrors, even if she had already been living them internally with Nia. But war was another matter, and Clarke had always been deeply compassionate about her people's plight. This compassion gave her the strength to protect and lead; he knew she would make a wonderful queen one day if they managed to oust Nia together.

He snapped out of his thoughts when Clarke offered her right hand for the same treatment, and he poured a little warm water into his own hand to contain the water more easily.

He poured it gently over his sister's significant and dirty wound, his eyes widening when she grimaced and let out a groan of pain. She tried to pull her hand away, but he shook his head and grabbed her wrist.

Roan was far from prepared for his sister's reaction.

Clarke suddenly froze, her eyes almost bulging out of their sockets, her mouth agape as she stared at the hand holding her wrist with a sudden deafness.

Roan felt a pang in his heart seeing his sister's reaction. Her expression was both terrified and lost, as if the simple physical contact had triggered something profound within her. Clarke trembled slightly, her eyes fixed on Roan's hand, but she seemed completely elsewhere, as if transported to another place, another moment.

"Clarke?" He murmured, his voice gentle and concerned.

But the teenager didn't respond. She was plunged into some sort of trance, memories swirling in her mind. She saw painful moments, marks of past cruelty. Roan's hand morphed into another, more feminine and more forceful, and everything around her became blurred.

Roan's eyes desperately searched for answers, but he felt helpless in the face of such intense yet mysterious reaction.

Suddenly, she let out a scream and ripped her wrist away from Roan, rising to her feet while clutching her wrist as if it were severed.

He stood up in panic himself, but tears started streaming from his sister's eyes, staining her war paint.

"Nomon..." She stammered with a broken, childlike voice, her eyes blurry and reddened from tears, her features distorted by anguish and terror. The more she looked at her wrist, the more she saw her mother's hand gripping her.

"Nomon, hodon!" She exclaimed as she suddenly started running while holding her wrist, as if an invisible force were pulling her in that direction.

"Komba op, honi," Her mother's urgent voice pressed as she tugged, and Clarke screamed.

"Nomon!" She cried again, her mother's grip vanishing as the figure that had been pulling her earlier was now far ahead of her. Her eyes widened in terror.

"Nomon, weron laik yu?" Her face was that of someone enduring hell as she ran around the private royal courtyard, trying to find God knows what.

Roan felt utterly shocked and frozen as he witnessed his sister's transformation. Tears welled up in his eyes.

"Clarke! Clarke, what are you doing!?" He shouted, running after her, but she didn't hear him and continued to cry out for her mother until collapsing to her knees.

"Nomon... Nomon!" She let out a cry of anguish and agony, her knees curling against her chest as she clawed at her hair and wept.

The prince swallowed, his heart pounding and his hands clammy. His hands trembled as he tried to contain his own pain and shock.

"Sistris, hashta Roan... Ai laik hir. Beja, Klark," He pleaded, kneeling cautiously before her but without touching.

How could he touch her when it turned his sister into such a state?

Clarke didn't seem to see him, and her cries turned into incoherent mutterings, her figure trembling and swaying back and forth against the snow. The wound on her hand bled, painting her blonde hair red as she clawed at it with an iron grip. She hiccupped, her breathing irregular.

He whispered soothing words to her in Trigedasleng, urging her to come back to herself. He couldn't bear to see her mind shattered. He felt suffocated just watching Clarke.

It felt like an eternity had passed before his sister's eyes rolled back, and she went limp, almost collapsing into the snow before Roan caught her.

"Clarke!"

— End of flashback —

At the moment Roan snapped out of his thoughts, it was just him and surprisingly, the Commander in the room. She remained respectfully silent, her gaze fixed on Clarke's bandaged back with an unreadable expression.

"You might want to sit down, Heda. She won't wake for a while," He said calmly, observing his sister's sleeping features with a faint, sad smile. She looked so much younger like this, without the weight of the world on her shoulders. Without that furrow between her brows, seemingly as permanently etched as the Azgeda scars. Without that serious face and those perpetually empty or purpose-seeking blue eyes.

Lexa said nothing for a moment, simply sitting by Clarke's bedside at a respectful distance from Roan.

Their gazes were locked on the sleeping form, each lost in their own thoughts.

"Why did the Queen punish you, Hainofa?" She asked calmly after a while, her unwavering gaze still fixed on the unconscious princess.

He glanced at her. "Because she exists, and because I defended her existence," He replied bitterly, wishing to shield her from the miserable life Roan's own mother subjected her to.

To this, the Commander regarded him. "Why remain idle?" She queried, her tone so serious that he almost laughed at the absurdity.

"What am I supposed to do, Heda?" he retorted sarcastically, and she gave him a look that made him feel foolish and insignificant.

"Claim your birthright," Lexa replied, her gaze returning to Clarke at the mention of birthright. Now that she had gotten to know the princess...

The Commander could entirely envision Clarke becoming Queen.

At this, he scoffed dryly, "I would have done so long ago if my people would have accepted it afterward."

"You could have your mother assassinated without anyone knowing," Lexa provided emptily, and he looked at her perplexed and incredulous.

"Are you still planning the murder of your allies by their own children, Commander?" He retorted sharply, and she clenched her jaw.

"Only in the interest of peace and if better leaders could emerge, which is the case," She replied simply.

The longer she looked at the sleeping princess, the more she felt an inexplicable urge to reach out and do Keryon knows what.

To this, Roan raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure you're not saying this out of your own vendetta against my mother?" He asked cautiously, and she shot him a look so dark he felt compelled to shrink back in his chair. But he held his ground.

"Look me in the eye and tell me you agree with your mother's rule, Hainofa. Look me in the eye and tell me you don't ache every time you pass through the wretched villages of your own nation knowing the Queen could well do something about it but doesn't care. Go on, tell me you believe in your mother and that she'll elevate Azgeda to its greatest heights like your father did when he was still alive." Her words were sharp, and her eyes bore into Roan's with such intensity and force that he swallowed.

"I... I can't," He conceded with a sigh of defeat, and she nodded.

"That's what I thought," She said coldly, and Roan sighed again.

"I can't kill my own mother. In Azgeda, whatever happens, we are bound by firm loyalty to the Queen first and to our blood second. In this case, it's both. It's a code of honor I cannot break," he said wearily, pushing back strands of his sister's golden hair behind her ear.

Lexa watched the gesture and felt an odd longing to do it herself instead of Roan, and quickly dismissed that longing. Weakness.

"You would also be protecting your blood by doing so. Are you not willing to do anything for your sister? For your people?" She questioned, lifting her chin.

He stared at her for long seconds before saying, "I would do anything for my sister, but I have honor. I will save her, and Azgeda, by the rules."

The prince bristled under Lexa's gaze, one that told him he was making the wrong choice.

Perhaps he would regret it.

"Hopefully, it won't be too late when you act," The Commander replied after a tense silence, and he swallowed.

"My sister has a strong spirit, Heda. I know she will rise to where her birthright lies, and she'll do so by the rules as well. I will entrust her with more than the nation; I will entrust her with the world." This time, when he spoke, he was much more assured and confident than before, and his eyes seemed ablaze as he looked at his sister with adoration.

Lexa felt her lips twitch but suppressed any smile. "I have seen her strength," She confirmed, and he turned to her with a curious, questioning look.

"Really?" He asked skeptically, and she nodded.

"She would make a better leader than you or your mother," The Commander stated categorically, and he shook his head with amusem*nt.

"I know, Heda. I'm glad you've seen it," Roan said with a shark-like smile. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"She would be a good ally for you," He continued, and she said nothing, turning her gaze silently back to Clarke.

"I know," She murmured earnestly, and they fell into a comfortable silence.

This woman intrigued Lexa. She elicited indescribable things from her. She was strange but uniquely so. And in a very good way. The Commander had never felt such attraction to a person before, such connection and admiration. It puzzled her.

She didn't know what to make of all these strange feelings, or what to think. She just knew that Clarke was someone who had captured her attention in every sense. Politically or personally. Her strength of spirit, her physical strength, her beauty, charisma, altruism, compassion, wisdom, unpredictability, and resilience. She seemed unstoppable. Ready to plunge the world into hell for her beliefs, yet hesitating to act on them. She had been through hell, but emerged stronger.

That was what true strength looked like.

When trials didn't kill or weaken you but only made you stronger.

She smiled, a genuine smirk as her eyes roamed over the princess's delicate features, only to meet a pair of dark blue orbs of sleep, confusion, and alertness.

"Heda? Roan?"

Chapter 7: Strong mind

Chapter Text

"Heda? Roan?" Her voice was hoarse and dry, and she winced as she tried to sit up, but Roan raised his hand in a clear protest signal they had established between them.

She furrowed her brow, focusing her gaze on the Commander who was staring back at her intently. "I lost, didn't I?" She asked sharply. She was surprised to see Lexa smirk.

"No one believes that. The outcome doesn't matter; your people and mine know you won," Replied the Commander in a tone warm enough to make Clarke blink several times.

Was she truly awake?

"Regardless. I fainted in the middle of the duel; my weakness..." Clarke began, but Heda raised her hand to stop her.

"There is no weakness. Only strength. I know of no one among my warriors across the Twelve Clans who could do what you did. No one thinks less of you, Hainofi," Lexa gently interrupted, her eyes seeming much less cold than usual.

Clarke had to fight the excitement creeping into her heart because this outcome of the battle might have turned out to be more beneficial for her than if she had won. It was killing her pride in every way, though. Fainting from her wounds, having her injuries acknowledged, or everyone being aware of the treatment the Queen subjected her to...

It was a mixed blessing, but still a hardship Clarke would have preferred to avoid. Even if it earned her the respect and approval of the Commander, as she saw in those softened beautiful green eyes.

"I must return to my duties," She said sharply after a moment of silence and was met with amused raised eyebrows from the Commander and her brother.

"In fact, you cannot leave the bed," Roan supplied with a shark-like smile, and she shot him a dark look.

"Try me," She declared coldly.

"You will not be leaving the bed, princess," The Commander spoke definitively, and Clarke gave her an incredulous look.

"Is Heda seriously ordering me to stay in bed?" She asked sarcastically, and Lexa felt her lips twitch with amusem*nt, while Roan didn't even bother to hide his snort.

"Sha," Confirmed the brunette, only to receive a steady glare from the princess.

They stared each other down.

Roan cleared his throat awkwardly in the face of this duel of glares, but neither of the two women paid him any mind, and he groaned in exasperation. He really hated it when two women with indomitable temperaments faced off against each other.

"Commander, I am a princess and a warrior. I have other things to do than lie useless in bed admiring the ceiling. It's not even my room, for that matter," She added the last part with the air of an irritated child, then found herself even more irritated by Lexa's smug smile.

"You won't be fulfilling your duties if you're dead, Hainofi. And that's what will happen if you leave this bed and reopen your wounds," The Commander said categorically, looking her up and down, and the princess gritted her teeth.

"I'm already recovered," She replied coldly and started to sit up, only to be met with a flash of pain and she froze.

Lexa and Roan exchanged a glance.

"Don't say anything," Clarke said weakly as she reluctantly lay back down. Roan sighed tenderly at his sister's stubbornness.

"Seriously, strisis, you impressed our people today. You impressed me too, and not just us," He gave a meaningful look to the Commander, who looked away.

"You fought bravely," Acknowledged Lexa, and Clarke bit her lip.

"I suppose so. Victory wasn't the goal, after all," Declared the blonde, her gaze sweeping the empty room disdainfully. Lexa gave her a curious look at this behavior.

"Sha. You wanted to showcase your strength to your people, didn't you? And my presence, along with the representatives of the Coalition clans, allowed you to display your strength on a larger scale," The Commander said gently, her eyes trailing over Clarke's bandaged back with admiration.

'I'm not even sure I could have fought anyone in this state. Even less Anya,' She thought with wonder but without a slightly bruised ego. She was the princess of Azgeda after all.

She looked at the Commander with a blank face, letting her know she fully expected Lexa to guess the intentions behind her display. It wasn't complicated to figure out anyway.

She glanced at Roan, who looked like he was about to collapse into his chair with his own pains.

"You can go, brother. I'd like to speak with Heda for a bit," She said neutrally. It wasn't necessarily true, but Roan wouldn't leave if she admitted she just wanted him to go rest.

He gave her a look that said he saw through her but couldn't protest in Lexa's presence.

"Ogud. In that case, I bid you farewell, Heda," He nodded briefly to the Commander, who returned it briefly, then placed his palm over his heart and inclined his head towards Clarke, who gave him a gentle smile.

With one last look at the two women, the prince was gone but not without a stiff air, and that turned Clarke's soft smile into a smug one.

Roan had always been incredibly protective.

"I had promised to share my knowledge with you, Heda," She said before Lexa could speak and broach the subject of her injuries. There was no way she was going down that path with the Commander.

Lexa glanced at her, partly surprised by the offer and partly displeased by her evasion of the topic, but Clarke didn't mind.

"Sha," Lexa acquiesced curtly, and the princess smiled.

"Is there anything specific you want to know?" Clarke asked patiently, and the Commander shook her head.

At this, Clarke furrowed her brow thoughtfully. It would have been easier if they were in her quarters. Then again, she could always have books brought to her, but...

An idea formed in her mind.

"Do you know the game of chess?" Clarke asked, and the other woman frowned in confusion.

"Chess?"

Perfect.

The princess whistled, and Lexa stiffened for a moment at the sudden sound, but the door to the chamber opened, revealing an Azgedan guard.

"Sha, Hainofi?" he asked with a bow that Clarke knew wasn't there before her fight.

"Fetch the chess set from my chambers," She ordered, and the guard nodded and left.

"A game?" Lexa asked coldly, suddenly finding the idea less appealing. She was met with a stern look that made her feel like a child.

"A strategy game from the Old World. You'll like it. They used it for entertainment, but I found it enhances intelligence, tactics, and creativity in a person. I often play it with my best friend, Wells," She said, adjusting slowly to lean against the headboard. She saw the Commander reach out to help and fixed Lexa with her most menacing glare, causing Lexa's hand to retreat where it hung uselessly in the air.

"You seem close to War Chief Thelonious's son," Lexa stated, clearing her throat, and Clarke gave her an evaluating look.

"I've known him since childhood," The princess replied briefly.

Lexa felt compelled to test the waters for some reason.

"He would make a suitable houmon for someone of your status. Besides, he's a man of honorable appearance and a skilled warrior," She said with an unreadable tone, watching Clarke carefully.

The blonde tensed completely for a second.

There was a silence in the room that made the Commander uneasy.

Then,

"I will never take a houmon," Clarke declared categorically, and Lexa looked at her with pure surprise and confusion.

"Is it the Queen who forbids it?" She asked with a hint of venom in her tone.

Clarke sighed, "Partly, yes. If I took one, the Queen would kill them and taunt me with their head."

There was an underlying tone in her voice that said it wasn't the only reason.

"Is there more to it?" The Commander asked cautiously, and the princess gave her a stare that she couldn't decipher but said nothing.

Lexa was too curious to give up now.

"Is it because of your reputation? Is there something preventing you from touching people?" She asked relentlessly, and she knew she was on the right track when Clarke tensed and gave her a steely gaze.

Before she could respond, there was a knock on the door, and Lexa cursed the timing of the Azgedan guard.

"Min yu op!" The princess exclaimed, and the Commander could sense her relief at the interruption.

The door opened with the previous Azgedan guard carrying a peculiar tray with white and black carved wooden shapes on it. Lexa eyed them cautiously as if they were weapons.

"Here's what you requested, Hainofi," The guard gave a wary glance towards the Commander as Clarke took the contents from the guard's hands.

'She's avoiding physical contact again,' Lexa thought, noticing how not a single finger of the princess brushed against the guard even by an inch. The more time she spent with Clarke, the more her mystery seemed to grow rather than resolve.

"Mochof, Atohl," Clarke said, placing her palm over her heart, and Lexa looked at her with disbelief and intrigue. She could almost see the Azgedan guard glowing with pride at the acknowledgment.

"Pro, Hainofi," Atohl responded far too cheerfully, bowing politely before leaving, and the Commander felt her lips twitch. She was both surprised by the princess's treatment of her subjects and impressed by the individual importance she placed on each member of her people.

Certainly not like Nia.

Clarke placed the tray on the coffee table and sorted the pieces into two piles, each with its own color.

"I'm used to playing as white with Wells, but it's the ones who move first. Perhaps you would like to start?" She asked, looking up at Lexa, who gave her a disturbed glance.

"I would prefer you to explain the rules first, Hainofi," She replied curtly, almost making Clarke smile.

Of course, the Commander wouldn't want to look foolish playing a game she didn't understand.

Clarke nodded with a satisfied look, as if she had anticipated this request. She surveyed the chessboard and the pieces arranged on it, then began to explain in a calm, methodical voice.

"Chess is a strategy game where two players face off on a board with sixteen pieces each," Clarke picked up a white piece between her fingers to illustrate her point. "Each type of piece has specific movements. For example, this piece here is the pawn. It moves forward one square at a time but captures diagonally. Other pieces like rooks, bishops, and knights have different movements."

Lexa listened intently, watching the movements Clarke demonstrated with the pieces. She was starting to grasp the complexity of the game. She was a bit ashamed to admit to herself that her gaze drifted a bit too often to the princess's lips as she spoke.

"The goal is to maneuver your opponent into a position where their king cannot escape an impending threat, known as 'checkmate,'" Clarke moved a piece to demonstrate an example. "Every move you make must be carefully considered, as it can have significant consequences on the course of the game."

"Each move is a strategic choice that can change the course of the game," Lexa repeated, studying the board with seriousness. She was beginning to see the parallels between this game and the military strategies she used to lead the Coalition.

Clarke smiled slightly, acknowledging the Commander's growing interest. "Exactly. Chess requires concentration, foresight, and anticipation. It's a bit like anticipating your enemies' moves on the battlefield."

Lexa nodded, captivated by how Clarke expressed the similarities between the game and the reality of war. "I see. Chess offers a unique perspective on strategy and tactics."

Perhaps this was a game she could implement for the Nightbloods. She could certainly imagine playing chess with Aden. It would be a lucrative way to develop their strategic minds.

The princess nodded. "It's a good exercise for the mind. Anticipating your opponent's moves can be crucial to winning the game, much like in battle."

"You seem to have a good grasp of this game, Hainofi," The Commander remarked with a slight smile, acknowledging the intellectual challenge this game represented. The culture of the people before Praimfaya was intriguing.

"I enjoy challenges. Chess is a way to train yourself to think several steps ahead while making quick decisions," Clarke replied with an equal smile.

Lexa swallowed as her green eyes momentarily focused on the princess's lips. Even in this disheveled state, Clarke managed to be stunning.

She refocused on the pieces arranged before her, attentively watching each move that Clarke explained.

"Now that you understand the basics, we can begin," Declared the blonde as she rearranged the pieces on the board. "Chess is a dance between patience and boldness. Let's see how you fare."

Lexa took a deep breath, mentally preparing for this new challenge. She moved a pawn, closely observing Clarke's reaction. The princess responded with a calculated move, her intense gaze fixed on the board.

"Where did you discover this game?" Lexa asked after a while, realizing she was almost out of pawns.

"In a bunker with Wells after a snowstorm. We had to take shelter and stumbled upon this hideout. There were lots of old things, including the chess set. We needed a way to entertain ourselves, so we tried it and preferred to associate it with strategy," Replied the blonde, her eyes gleaming as she surveyed the board.

Lexa could tell Clarke was enjoying herself, and for some reason, that warmed her heart. Honestly, she was enjoying it too, and this game was making her think.

"It's interesting," She said sincerely as her king was captured.

She frowned and glanced at Clarke, whose eyes sparkled even more.

"Checkmate, Commander," The princess winked, and Lexa felt her throat go dry. Jok.

"You're good at this game," She admitted awkwardly clearing her throat.

"It's experience. You're also quite strong for someone who just learned to play; your leadership shows," Clarke complimented in return, and the Commander couldn't help but swell her chest with pride.

"Mochof," She replied with a smirk.

Her smile widened as she noticed Clarke's gaze dropping a bit too low. Maybe it wasn't as one-sided as she thought.

"You're leaving tomorrow, aren't you?" The princess asked, relaxing back against the bed for a more comfortable position.

The realization hit Lexa like a ton of bricks. Right, tomorrow she wouldn't be here anymore. Of course, she was immensely relieved to be able to leave the Ice Nation without incident and with one less heartache. Costia had weighed heavily on her chest, just like Nia, but now she wasn't as weak.

She hoped she wouldn't become weak again with a certain princess.

A very, very bad idea came to her mind, and she swallowed, her lips parting as she debated with herself.

"You should come with me to the capital. Polis is different from Troit," It came out a bit too quickly from her lips, a bit too nervously, and Lexa almost looked away but she'd seem too vulnerable, so instead, she plunged her gaze directly into Clarke's breathtaking blue eyes.

She saw pure surprise in them, as if Clarke was speechless at this proposition.

"I... Why would you need me in Polis?" the blonde asked after recovering from her surprise. She looked suspicious.

Lexa had no hesitation in her response.

"I'm planning a new war. Against the Mountain, with the united forces of the Coalition. I want you to lead Azgeda's army with War Chief Marcus. You're the best ally I could hope for Azgeda, especially now that you've earned the respect of your people. Plus, you'll be much more useful to your people by my side rather than under the Queen's control," She said firmly, her green eyes sparkling beyond words with genuine conviction. She hoped Clarke would take this olive branch. Her potential couldn't be wasted, not with Nia, and she wanted to free her from her chains.

"An... attack on the Mountain?" Her tone was completely incredulous, but there was an underlying awe. Of course, the princess was disappointed not to be able to enjoy this new era of peace, but she guessed there would never truly be one as long as Mount Weather existed.

The Commander nodded, "Sha, and I need your skills as a warrior and leader. And strategist as well." She added the last part with a soft, admiring voice. Clarke truly amazed Lexa.

The blonde seemed to fully contemplate this idea, as if it fell into her hands at the perfect moment. And it did.

The first step of her plan was to earn the respect of her people, as well as the Commander and the other clans. This way, she could gain new allies and loyalists. The second step was to find a way to gain more freedoms than what Nia allowed, which was, in essence, a short leash. What the Commander was offering her was a perfect opportunity. New allies, including Heda, an army at hand where she could prove herself as a leader, and a freedom she hadn't previously had. If she managed to lead Azgeda's army to victory alongside the Commander and the other clans, it would be over. All she would need to do then was return to Azgeda and challenge Nia, and no one would contest her or accuse her of treason. On the contrary, everyone would be on her side.

She clenched her jaw, having learned to be wary of such things. The Commander offering her everything that was perfect for her? It was too good to be true. Lexa had seen through it too quickly, she knew what Clarke was planning and acted accordingly. There was something.

"What do you desire in return, Heda?" She asked cautiously, her eyes analyzing the Commander's face attentively as she waited for Lexa's response.

"Your loyalty once you ascend to the throne of Azgeda," Declared the Commander bluntly, and Clarke pondered.

"You want Azgeda under your thumb?" She questioned, narrowing her eyes, furrowing her brow when she noticed Lexa's amused smile.

"We both know that the Ice Nation has been consistently defying the Coalition for the past two summers. It's becoming increasingly difficult to prevent a new war with the... suspicious way your Queen is gathering support from neighboring clans. I need you in power to resolve these dissensions and make Azgeda a loyal clan to the Coalition, and by extension, to me," Replied the older woman as she straightened up in her chair.

At these words, Clarke thought and tried to detect any trace of deceit from the Commander. No luck, this woman was a true blank canvas.

"So you're proposing an alliance to me?" Asked the princess, keeping her gaze fixed on Lexa's.

The Commander smiled, "Sha. To the future Queen of Azgeda."

"Very well, Heda. I will come with you to Polis. However, I need a guarantee." Clarke's eyes sparkled, and Lexa raised an eyebrow.

"What guarantee?" She asked cautiously, and the princess nodded towards Lexa's thigh where she knew the Commander was hiding a dagger.

"A blood oath," She specified, and the brunette almost laughed.

This woman was incredible.

"Ogud," Lexa replied as she pulled out her dagger, and without hesitation, she lightly cut her left palm enough to draw blood.

Clarke watched with fascination as the midnight-black blood flowed from the superficial cut. She had never had the chance to see Ontari's, she just knew it was there.

"Oso tai choda op kom jus," Declared the Commander, holding the dagger out to the princess after wiping it on her sleeve.

She did the same, cutting her right palm, and Lexa noted that she was left-handed.

"Oso tai choda op kom jus," She replied, wiping the dagger herself and handing it back to Lexa.

The Commander was certain she felt the princess's index finger brush against hers.

"I'm not sure Haiplana will like the idea, though," Clarke said once Lexa had sheathed her dagger.

The brunette gave her a defiant look, "Ai laik Heda," She said, straightening up and raising her chin proudly.

Clarke couldn't help a slight laugh escaping her lips at that. The smile remained on her lips as she saw how the Commander's eyes sparkled at seeing her laugh.

"And what will you tell her, then?" She asked, resting her head against the bed frame. This left a fairly good view of the column of her throat, and Lexa's gaze focused on the black ink trailing up the right side of the princess's neck. It looked like a flame motif, and she licked her lips.

"How impressed Her Royal Highness has made me today and how I want her by my side," She replied in a lower voice than she intended. She couldn't control her body's reaction to Clarke's presence, and it made her swallow heavily.

The double meaning of her words was not lost on the princess by the way her eyes seemed much darker than they had a few seconds ago.

"I'm sure you'll manage to convince her, Heda," She responded in a huskier voice than usual, and it multiplied the fuzzy sensation in Lexa's lower abdomen.

This woman would be her death.

"In that case, I will await you at dawn. We will plan the attack on Maun-de in more detail once we are in Polis," The Commander said after clearing her throat. She couldn't lose control like this.

The princess winked, relaxing against the bed frame. She was always surprised at how her body automatically relaxed in the Commander's presence.

"You can count on my presence, Heda."

Lexa looked at Clarke with a mix of satisfaction and anticipation. The princess was a fascinating puzzle, and each interaction seemed to reveal a new facet of her personality. She had managed to earn Lexa's respect, a rare and precious thing.

"I have no doubt of that, Hainofi," Replied the Commander, a slight smile on her lips. "Rest now. We have an important day ahead of us tomorrow."

Clarke nodded, her blue eyes shining in the dim light of the room. Lexa gracefully rose from her chair and headed towards the door, her mind already immersed in plans for the future.

"Sleep well, Clarke," She added, turning back to the princess. It was the first time she had called her by her name, and she loved the sound on her own lips.

"Thank you, Lexa," Clarke replied softly. The Commander felt her heart quicken at the sound of her name on the princess's lips and at the newfound familiarity. She didn't show it, though, simply bidding her farewell by placing her palm on her heart and nodding.

The gesture was returned almost adoringly, and Lexa left the room, leaving Clarke alone with her thoughts and the chessboard.

Chapter 8: Fresh start

Chapter Text

Lexa had expected it—Nia didn't express much annoyance about Clarke joining the war against the Mountain that the Commander was preparing. Sure, Nia seemed irritated not to have a leash on her, but she was generally content, knowing the slim odds of returning from this war. The idea of getting rid of both Lexa and Clarke in one battle was enough for the Queen.

Anyway, Nia didn't really have a choice. Lexa was the Commander and chose who would stand with her in this war, regardless of Clarke being the princess of Azgeda. Nia couldn't refuse. It simply helped the Commander that Nia wasn't truly opposed.

Now, she just had to wait for the princess and War Chief Marcus. She stood alongside her delegation and that of TonDC.

"Do you think it's wise, Heda?" Indra asked sharply, narrowing her eyes. She had seen the princess's strength, yes, but having her as the leader of Azgeda's army in the war against the Mountain?

Lexa glanced wearily at her before looking around. The first light of dawn was breaking, and she knew the Azgedans wouldn't be far behind. She could see her gona getting restless, the snow and bitter cold making them unusually agitated. Nia wasn't entirely wrong about the Trigona not tolerating Azgeda's weather conditions well, but who, besides the Ice Nation itself, did?

"Sha. She is trustworthy," Lexa replied softly, a subtle warmth in her eyes behind her unyielding facade.

Anya certainly noticed, given the sh*t-eating grin she shot Lexa's way. "You bet she is," She muttered under her breath, causing Lexa to straighten beside her horse and shoot her a deadly look.

"Anything to say, Wormana?" She asked coldly, a dangerous glint in her eyes that made the blonde general flinch.

"No, Heda," Anya replied, biting her cheek. Lexa smiled with satisfaction at that and nodded.

Anyway, Anya had nothing to say. Lexa had certainly noticed her interest in the prince.

Just then, they heard hoofbeats, and the Commander knew the Azgedans were arriving.

As she turned, she was greeted by the sight of the princess riding a beautiful white stallion, matching her royal cape's color. The early morning sunlight illuminated Clarke's appearance so perfectly that, in Lexa's eyes, she looked divine.

This woman would be her death.

She forced her eyes away from the princess, afraid she might not be able to do so later, and looked at the other Azgedans.

She blinked at the sight of Prince Roan riding alongside Clarke, but then again, he didn't go anywhere without her. Lexa had noticed the immeasurable love he had for his younger sister, but she also knew that this love was mutual. Clarke would be ready to annihilate a nation for Roan.

There was also War Chief Marcus by their side, and behind them stood notable warriors, friends of the princess. Belomi, Reivon, Wels, Murfi, Miller, Harper, Echo. They were among the strongest gona that the Ice Nation had to offer. Wormana himself had brought a small team of gona, including Dayana, Cali, Kail, Sincler. All legends among Azgeda.

Lexa couldn't have asked for a better team from Azgeda, even though she knew Diana would need watching. The key thing was she had Marcus, Roan, and Clarke by her side.

"Sop, Heda," All the Azgona greeted in unison, bowing their heads to Lexa. The Commander nodded in acknowledgment.

"I assume you are ready?" She asked rhetorically, and they nodded. She released a barely perceptible sigh. It was time to go home. She would finally leave Nia's territory, with a new ally by her side.

"Then let's go," She ordered firmly as she gracefully mounted her white stallion, her warriors falling into step. She could feel Indra's tension beside her, as well as Gustus's and Anya's.

She hoped the journey wouldn't be too trying. She was fortunate that the other clans' generals were already in Polis; she wouldn't have liked to deal with the squabbles of various clans in one trip. Especially since Polis was sixteen days' ride from Troit.

It had taken them fifteen days to reach TonDC. The journey had actually been more peaceful than Lexa had anticipated, considering the Trigona were traveling side by side with the Azgeda. In fact, it had even been cheerful thanks to the group of gona that the princess had brought along.

They were truly different from the AzgedansLexa was accustomed to. They were arrogant, but in a good way. They weren't disdainful, apart from Bellamy, but he wasn't unbearable either. Marcus's son had actually turned out to be more tolerable than she would have thought; he had a good heart. This must have been a trait among the princess's close ones—she surrounded herself only with trusted people who had a different mindset from her own people.

She couldn't say the same about Diana. As much as Kyle, Callie, Sinclair, and Marcus were helpful and good company, the older warrior seemed relentless and a real lapdog of Nia's. That wasn't surprising, considering Pike was her niron.

Marcus was a man she truly appreciated and could envision having a friendly relationship with beyond political schemes. Not quite on a personal level, but he was truly one of the most remarkable men Lexa had encountered among the Twelve Clans. She supposed that was why Aurora had chosen him back then.

And maybe Indra too, given how the TonDC leader seemed much more interested than usual in engaging in conversation. She seemed to greatly appreciate Marcus, and the Commander could see from her body language that it was mutual. They rode side by side, the War Chief leaning toward Indra with a charming smile as they spoke, and Lexa could see the general's subtle lip movement.

She wasn't sure if she should be dismayed that they weren't the only ones. Anya kept bickering with Prince Roan when he wasn't hovering over his younger sister like a mother hen. Even though outwardly Lexa appeared opposed to the kind of closeness this might lead to between Roan and Anya, inwardly she was pleased. Politically and personally, it would be good. Anya deserved a good man who could match her, and Roan had the stature and returned everything the blonde general threw at him. They naturally complemented each other, even if they pretended to mutually dislike each other.

One of the gona from the TonDC delegation, Fin kom Trikru, was constantly hovering around Raven. He was trying to court her with his charming smile and silly humor, and Lexa could see the appeal of her warrior; he was a good boy, but too playful. She didn't think he deserved someone on Raven's level.

Maybe she was thinking subjectively. After all, Finn had set his sights on Raven only because the princess had royally ignored and rejected his advances for the first five days he persisted. That had annoyed Lexa much more than she was willing to admit, and she had felt something tighten in her chest seeing Finn flirt with Clarke.

She preferred to tell herself she didn't like it solely because she disliked unequal couples. Clarke was so far above Finn that imagining her with the Trigona was pathetic and demeaning for her.

He wasn't the only one; Lexa had noticed her earlier musings were more precise than she had wished. War Chief Thelonious's son, Wells, was totally trying to court the Azgedan princess. Not that she was returning his feelings in the slightest; it actually seemed to be their usual dynamic. Clarke was undoubtedly aware of Wells's affection for her and kept things friendly between them because she must care for the boy, no matter how subtly he tried.

And that made Lexa quite bitter, more so than with Finn, because the princess looked at Wells with genuine affection in her eyes. It was irrational; she had shown her intentions, but seeing her close with someone who wanted her did unpleasant things to the Commander. Part of her wondered if Clarke wasn't reciprocating just because of Nia and her mysterious issue with contact. Maybe she loved Wells.

That thought was repugnant, and she clenched her jaw and straightened in her saddle.

"We're in TonDC," She declared coldly, her gaze scanning the closed village gates. The relief from her gona was palpable, especially from those native to TonDC like Lincoln, Octavia, Nyko, Indra, Anya, Finn, Tristan, and Quint.

She gestured for her gona to dismount, and they all did so.

"No weapons," Gustus grumbled, eyeing the lesser-ranked warriors in the group. Only the high-ranked ones were allowed.

They all relinquished their weapons except Clarke, Roan, Bellamy, Marcus, Indra, Anya, Gustus, and Lexa waited for her guard to nod before turning and striding toward the gates that opened with shouts of "Heda!"

She was glad they had arrived just before nightfall; it was the first time they had the luxury of stopping in a village before the final stretch to Polis.

The villagers seemed a bit tense at the sight of the Azgedans, but the excitement of seeing their Commander never waned, and Lexa gave them a nod of acknowledgment.

"Heda! You've arrived!" Shouted one of the village gona, catching the Commander's attention.

"Jasper," She said neutrally, and the boy smiled as he approached her.

"I've arranged an inn for you and your warriors. There's also one available for the dignitaries," Declared Jasper, standing up straight, his gaze dreamily fixed on Octavia, who ignored him.

"Mochof," She replied with a slightly grateful tone, and she almost smiled as he beamed.

"Pro, Heda!" He chirped, turning to Monty who was waiting. She nodded once more at the two gona before turning back to her group.

"Lincoln and Octavia, I'd like you to take the Azgedans to their lodging," She ordered, and both immediately nodded.

"Sha, Heda," They replied, both looking pleased with the order. She knew they were both impressed by the princess, and Octavia also wanted to spend time with her brother.

Bellamy looked around the village, seemingly searching everywhere if he could locate his mother, but unfortunately for him, that would have to wait.

She watched Clarke's figure with something unreadable in her eyes as the blonde followed Lincoln and Octavia.

During the journey, she hadn't even had a single opportunity to strike up a conversation with her or the prince, as their respective attention was always demanded by one of their gona. She hoped that would change in Polis, although she couldn't complain since she had spent a lot of time watching the princess during the journey. The chance to admire how beautiful, graceful, charismatic, and strong she was couldn't slip through Lexa's fingers.

The Commander straightened and turned back to Indra, nodding at her.

Those thoughts had to disappear.

There was a bonfire lit in TonDC tonight to celebrate the Commander's return, but Clarke had preferred to slip away anyway. She had always loved the quiet of the night. The way the stars were cast across the sky, and the moon's reflection brought an air of tranquility to her.

The Trikru villages were more than she had expected. Of course, due to the weather conditions as well. There was no trace of white here; the freezing cold she was accustomed to was absent, and it made Clarke more uneasy than she was ready to admit. It was like stepping out of her comfort zone. The perpetual cold represented her home, and this mild to warm weather made her nervous.

Yet, they were also much more jovial than her people. The people of Trikru exuded this warmth that made Clarke feel a sense of familiarity she hadn't experienced before. She loved it; she was even fascinated by it. Everything was so contrary to Azgeda, and she wondered if one day she could be the one to lead her people to such happiness as the Commander did with hers.

She wasn't half the leader Lexa was.

Lexa was the champion of humanity, the heroine spoken of in the world's books before Praimfaya, the one who brought salvation. The savior. The peacemaker. The way she led with gentleness but firmness, how people followed her without ever questioning her once, and how they worshipped her. They were all ready to die for Lexa without an ounce of fear or hesitation because the Commander was their savior. She carried their dreams and hopes. She was their messiah.

Seeing her in action herself was something Clarke had always hoped she could achieve when she heard of Heda Leksa's exploits from Troit. No matter how Nia's faithful tried to brainwash her and taught her to hate, the princess had never been able to form an opinion on those affiliated with the Queen.

The way her brother spoke of her helped too; he had been honest in his admiration for the Commander. And as much as Nia hated this fact, even Lexa was fervently feared within Azgeda. Her reputation had made its way to the heart of the Azgedan capital, and none wanted to be on her bad side.

Lexa was incredible. The feeling of security that surged in Clarke's chest every time the Commander was nearby was real. This woman fascinated her and made her feel all sorts of things. It was as if she represented life to the princess. She made her feel.

Clarke had always wanted to feel.

As the princess stood under the starry sky, lost in her admiring thoughts for Commander Lexa, she heard quiet footsteps behind her. She turned to see Lexa approaching, silent and graceful in the moon's silvery light.

It was as if her thoughts had summoned her.

"Princess Clarke," Lexa said in a calm yet authoritative voice. "You're far from the festivities."

Clarke suddenly felt aware of her presence but also strangely fulfilled by this closeness to Lexa. "Heda," She replied respectfully, a faint smile forming on her lips. "I needed a moment of quiet."

There was a persistent sparkle in Lexa's emerald eyes facing Clarke's presence.

She observed the princess for a moment, her dark green eyes reflecting the starlight. "The celebrations can be exhausting," She conceded. "There's much to consider when peoples come together."

The blonde nodded, acknowledging the wisdom in Lexa's words. "You're accustomed to leading gatherings," She remarked. "Your presence brings a certain calm."

A fleeting smile tugged at the Commander's lips. "I do my best to maintain harmony, even in turbulent times."

Silence settled between them, but it was comfortable, charged with a strange tension that Clarke couldn't ignore. She felt drawn to Lexa in a way she didn't fully understand. She didn't know what to do with her feelings and this attraction; it was the first time she had felt such a thing, and she didn't know if she should welcome this sensation or reject it. She bit her lower lip, searching for her words.

"How did you overcome the pain?" She asked softly, her gaze fixed on the stars as usual, almost obsessively. Perhaps she was.

The way the brunette stiffened beside her and her features hardened, there was no doubt she recognized Clarke's question as referring to Costia.

"By recognizing it for what it is; weakness." Her response was flat, more as if it had been rooted in her mind rather than if she were personally convinced of it.

That was an idea of Heda, not Lexa. But Lexa was nothing without Heda.

At that, the blonde tore her gaze from the sky and looked at Lexa incredulously, "What is? Love?"

The slightest nod answered her, the Commander still in her unflappable mask.

"So you just stopped caring ? About everyone? I could never do that," She said, softness tinged with a bit of resigned frustration in her voice.

The brunette knew; she had seen Clarke's empathy and kindness that extended to literally anyone deserving. Clarke, theoretically, could cut off emotions and be a cold-blooded killer. She had done it before. But that would be succumbing to what Nia wanted her to be. Her tool.

And Clarke, with her love for her people, was stronger than the heartless assassin Nia tried to make her since she discovered her husband's bastard existence.

Yet, Lexa knew love was a weakness. She wasn't convinced herself, but she had experienced it, and so had the previous Commanders. Maybe Clarke was stronger now, but Lexa feared that this love for her people might ultimately cost her her life.

"Then you put the people you care about in danger, and the pain will never go away. The dead are gone, Clarke. The living are hungry," She replied sternly, all traces of the lighter Lexa gone, replaced by the ruthless Heda.

Clarke blinked, the words resonating within her.

The dead are gone. The living are hungry.

"Nomon! Hodon!"

There was a silence after the Commander's words, and Lexa was almost ready to leave. The princess could see goosebumps forming on the Commander's arms where she wasn't wearing her usual coat. Away from the bonfire, the night was growing chilly, even by Trikru standards.

With a silent movement, the blonde unfolded her white cloak and gestured for Lexa to come closer. The brunette hesitated at this, both at the proximity it would bring but also because the tensions from their conversation still lingered in the air.

"It's getting cold, Lexa," Clarke said softly, looking at her with pleading eyes. Lexa sighed and finally nodded, moving closer to the other woman while ensuring they didn't touch. Just having the princess's presence beside her seemed to radiate warmth, and it already made Lexa considerably warmer.

Her eyes landed on the cloak Clarke had draped around them and she looked at it admiringly. "No wonder the Azpakstokasurvive so well in the weather conditions of Azgeda," She said softly, receiving a nod of agreement from Clarke. But Lexa could catch the glint of pride in Clarke's eyes at her indirect compliment about the cloak.

There was a silence, much more comfortable than the previous tension between them, but awkwardness still lingered nonetheless. Lexa clenched her jaw and her shoulders tensed, unsure of how to remedy this. However, before she could succumb to endless self-reflection, Clarke spoke.

"This is Cassiopeia," She said suddenly, causing Lexa to look at her perplexedly. She followed Clarke's gaze and found it on a star alignment resembling, from Lexa's perspective, the letter M or W.

"She was an Ethiopian queen, a country from the Old World. It's a legend from Greek mythology, like the one about Troy. According to the legend, Cassiopeia boasted of her beauty, claiming to be more beautiful than the Nereids, the sea nymphs. This angered the gods. To appease them, they demanded the sacrifice of her daughter Andromeda. Fortunately, Perseus saved Andromeda, and the stars immortalize this tragic tale. The stars, like pages of a cosmic book, carry ancient legends," She said gently, her voice so calm and soothing that Lexa's own breathing became steady, as if her body obeyed Clarke's tone.

"It's sad," Lexa murmured, earning a simple shrug from Clarke.

Tracing the star alignment herself, she spoke with the same calming tone as the princess. "In Trikru, we call it differently. We know it as Bekka Pramheda. In our stories, this star alignment represents a protective embrace of Pramheda. We see strength and guidance in it, reminding us that Pramheda watches over each of us in the darkness even beyond the Flame," she said, a hint of melancholy coloring her tone. Before her Ascension and the Flame, as a Natblida, she often looked to this constellation for silent guidance from Pramheda as a possible future Commander. Now with the Flame, Lexa no longer needed this constellation.

The blonde remained silent for a moment, undoubtedly contemplating the constellation while adopting Lexa's perspective.

"I find it beautiful. It's a beautiful perspective. I find it much more beautiful than the Old World's view of Cassiopeia," She chuckled sincerely, and it was Lexa's turn to shrug.

"It's all a matter of perspective. But yes, I suppose ours is more or less optimistic compared to the Old World's," The brunette replied, gazing gently at Clarke's profile. The more time she spent with the blonde, the more her convictions seemed to crumble. How could she think that love was a weakness when Clarke's strength lay in her love for her people, which went far beyond concern for her own life?

How could she think that love was a weakness when she felt stronger than ever by her side? As if every second with her was an achievement of great things?

"Azgeda has a different view of this constellation," Clarke spoke again, unaware of Lexa's thoughts.

She felt the Commander's inquisitive gaze upon her at that.

"We call it the Tale of the Ice Stars. It's an ancient story that was told to young warriors, though the Queen doesn't really pay it much mind these days. This legend speaks of the first Queen of Azgeda, Aria. Her beauty and wisdom were as dazzling as the stars themselves. Aria ruled over a kingdom covered in ice and snow, and her people, the Azgedans, worshipped her as a goddess of the cold," She began in the same soft voice, but there was a subtle pride in her tone that spoke of her culture.

Lexa was familiar with Queen Aria, she was the greatest Queen Azgeda had ever known and the Pramhaiplana. Not all her stories were available from Polis because Azgeda was a private people about sharing culture, but from what was documented about her, she had amazed Lexa.

Clarke wasn't her descendant, Roan and Nia were, but one wouldn't think so. Maybe Aria's spirit was in Clarke. That and the princess was completely her father's daughter. King Jake was the best Azgedan king, his leadership bending even the neighboring clans in admiration and he was adored by his people.

"One day, as the tribes were threatened by a terrible famine, Aria consulted the shamans and elders to find a solution. They told her that these stars held an ancient power capable of saving their people. Aria then undertook a perilous journey through the icy mountains to reach the highest peak, where the stars shone most intensely," The blonde continued with a soft smile.

Lexa's gaze never left Clarke's profile.

"After days of grueling trekking, Aria finally reached the snow-capped summit. There, she prayed to the spirits of ice and stars with unwavering devotion. Her pleas were heard, and the stars descended from the sky to settle at her feet in the form of sparkling ice crystals," She paused, not believing it herself but it was a good story to tell among her people which she clung to ever since Roan had passed it on to her.

"Aria took the crystals and brought them back to her kingdom. With their power, she melted the glaciers, causing fresh water rivers to flow and fertilizing barren lands. Crops thrived, herds multiplied, and the people of Azgeda were saved from starvation."

"In gratitude for her courage and determination, these stars illuminated the night sky to guide the warriors and travelers of Azgeda through the icy darkness. Aria became a living legend, and her reign was marked by peace and prosperity. Even today, the Azgedans look upon Aria's stars with respect and admiration, remembering their queen's courage and the power of the ancient stars that watch over their kingdom," She finished by readjusting the cloak around both herself and the Commander.

It was rare that their culture was shared with a non-Azgedan, but the Commander was part of her people since the Coalition's creation and they were now bound by blood, which ensured Clarke's loyalty to Lexa. Moreover, she actually wanted to share this story with her.

The Commander was surprised by the conviction in Clarke's voice. She could feel the importance the blonde placed on these traditions and beliefs. There was something intimate about this conversation, as if they were sharing a moment of connection beyond politics and alliances.

"That's a beautiful story, Clarke," Lexa declared, her voice softer than usual. "And it reflects well on your people's reputation."

The princess smiled slightly, acknowledging Lexa's sincere appreciation. "Thank you, Lexa. I believe our stories shape who we are, just as your traditions and leadership shape the Trikru people."

The Commander was silent for a moment, reflecting on the depth of those words. The conversation with Clarke had a unique quality, almost intimate, that prompted her to reflect on her own convictions and role as a leader.

"You may be right, Clarke," Lexa finally said, her green eyes fixed on the blonde. "Our stories, our traditions... they represent our heritage, but it's our present actions that forge our future."

Clarke nodded slowly, captivated by the wisdom and depth in Lexa's words. There was so much she wanted to understand about the Commander, so many questions about what motivated her, what troubled her. But for now, she contented herself with savoring this moment of human connection.

The night breeze brought a chill to Lexa, and she tightened the cloak slightly around them. Clarke noticed this gesture and glanced down at the cloak, then lifted her eyes to meet Lexa's gaze again.

"You should join the festivities, Heda," Clarke suggested softly. "People need you."

Lexa nodded slightly, acknowledging Clarke's reminder of her responsibilities. "You're right, princess," She replied, her voice filled with genuine gratitude towards the princess for this moment of solace.

The other woman smiled warmly. "We should all embrace moments of respite when they come," She declared.

The two women stood there for a moment longer, sharing a comfortable silence under the starlit sky. Then, without another word, Lexa gracefully walked away to join the festivities, leaving Clarke alone with her thoughts and the memory of that shared moment with Commander Lexa.

Tomorrow, they would arrive in Polis and she might have the opportunity to delve deeper into this strange connection between her and Lexa.

Chapter 9: Don't leave me alone

Chapter Text

Clarke had never been to Polis. She had dreamed about it, yes, but she had never hoped to set foot there with Nia at her side. She was even surprised to still be alive at seventeen winters, to be honest.

But now, she could see a dazzling light high up that illuminated the sky, and her breath caught as she spotted an immense structure whose roof was covered in flame.

"Is that Polis?" She murmured, leaning towards the Commander who rode quietly beside her.

Lexa straightened at her question, sensing the admiration in Clarke's eyes fixed on the Tower. She proudly lifted her chin with a smug smile. "Sha," She confirmed.

The princess could hear the self-satisfaction in her tone and glanced at her with amusem*nt. "It looks magnificent, Commander," She declared, intentionally to see Lexa's ego swell.

As she had anticipated, the Commander's chest swelled with pride, and she radiated. "It is," She replied eagerly, and Clarke fought to hold back a laugh. It was honestly cute.

Even her friends looked impressed, except for Bellamy, and she recalled that he had been to Polis several times with a Trikru mother. Roan was too busy bickering with Anya to care.

"How do you find our capital, Hainofi?" Lincoln asked with a hint of a smile on his lips.

She smiled at the warrior and let her eyes wander back to the towering structure and the flame illuminating it for miles around.

"I look forward to it," She replied, and they shared a brief smile.

However, she shifted awkwardly and felt too warm; it was probably because she was used to the icy temperatures of her territory. It made her uncomfortable because Azgeda's cold was familiar; it was her anchor, her home. She loved feeling the snow crunch under her feet, the icy breezes tingling her skin and reddening her nose and cheeks, seeing forests and villages buried under thick layers of white all year round. She could see that sentiment reflected in her companions.

"Who will be by our side during this war, Heda?" She asked to distract herself, but also with genuine interest. She gripped the reins of her horse more firmly, glancing at her brother who was riding a little too close to Anya.

Lexa assumed a serious expression at her question. "My sister Luna will lead Floukru. Indra and Anya will lead Trikru, you and Marcus will lead Azgeda. Boudalan will be led by Wormana Abel, Podakru by Wormana Terro, Delfikru by Wormana Cabor, Ingranrona by Wormana Gael, Louwoda Kliron by Wormana Makor, Yujleda by Wormana Janko, Trishanakru by Wormana Ilian, and Sangedakru by Wormana Brell. I believe you know them all by name."

Indeed, Clarke knew them. After all, she had fought against half of these generals during the clan wars before the formation of the Coalition. The rest, her status as a high-level warrior and princess required her to know the big names.

Luna, however, was a surprise. She had forgotten about the Commander's sister, yet Luna was the best warrior in the entire Coalition after Lexa. She was not someone to be taken lightly. She was also the only Natblida to have survived a Conclave without becoming Heda, and if Lexa were to die, she would likely succeed her.

Clarke preferred not to think about the Commander's death.

"And you at the helm," She added after interrupting her thoughts, and Lexa nodded.

"Do you think you can manage the tensions, Commander? Because I don't think we can attack an enemy as dangerous as Maun-de with such weaknesses within the Coalition. If we fight amongst ourselves before even taking up arms against the Maunon, we will lose." It wasn't a criticism; Lexa knew that; it was an observation.

"There is nothing better to unite the clans than a common enemy. You will see it when your army marches alongside those of the Twelve Clans," The brunette replied wisely, straightening her shoulders as they began to see the grand gates of the capital.

"You don't give yourself enough credit, Heda. It wasn't the common enemy that united the clans," Clarke said softly enough to make Lexa's heart race in her chest.

The Commander glanced at her with tenderness but said nothing; it wasn't necessary.

"You've never been to the capital, have you, Clarke?" Marcus asked gently as they finally stopped in front of the gates.

Lexa was completely surprised by Marcus's familiarity with which he addressed Clarke. She had seen that they had a relationship that seemed to surpass the usual political pattern, but she was nevertheless taken aback by the warmth in the War Chief's eyes as he looked at the princess.

"No, I've never been," The blonde replied, looking up at the gates.

"Heda!" shouted the guards at the gates, and the Commander nodded to them as they opened the gates and sounded a horn to announce the Commander's return. They all had to disarm, Lexa being the only exception.

The sun was setting, but the city was still bustling with life. As Polis was revealed to her, Clarke felt her heart leap.

The buildings were abundant; some looked ancient like relics from the past, and others were new. The city itself was lit up; villagers moved freely and cheerfully, and she could smell cooked meat from here. There were many children playing and laughing joyfully as they moved forward, and she blinked seeing how people began to crowd upon spotting the Commander.

"Look at that, Clarke!" Raven exclaimed, and the princess followed her best friend's gaze to a particular stall brimming with unfamiliar objects.

She smiled, of course; Raven had always been drawn to worldly objects even before Praimfaya and had always found a use for them. Though Azgeda was the best (alongside Sangedakru) at finding such relics, Polis seemed to have all-new things that would keep Raven's attention for a while.

"I spotted a nice tavern," Murphy said with a smirk, waggling his eyebrows suggestively towards Clarke. She sighed in exasperation.

Her gaze shifted back to Lexa, who was struggling to move forward with her people trying to touch her and offering various gifts. She smiled affectionately, though there was a slight bitterness settling in.

No matter how hard she tried, the Azgedans would never love her like that.

Yet her whole being remained filled with admiration and longing as she watched the beloved Commander of her people. There was a powerful urge to gain her attention as if she were one of those simple people, not a warrior, simply bartering under the Commander's protection in Polis. Lexa was like a flame attracting all the moths, including Clarke.

"I've always wanted to take you to Polis," Roan said softly, giving her a tender look, and she smiled warmly at him.

"Maybe this isn't how you wanted to take me, but here we are now," She replied softly, and he nodded.

Her brother's gaze turned to the Commander, who leaned over her horse's head to reach a child clutching her leg.

"What do you think of her?" He asked, gripping Clarke's horse's reins to keep them side by side. It was easy to get separated in such a large crowd.

"She's special," She replied, her blue eyes illuminated with a reverence she showed to no one else.

Roan had never seen that look on his sister, never. And that's why it was all the more shocking to him. He was speechless as his eyes scanned his sister's face, his mouth slightly agape as realization dawned on him.

"Clarke..." He murmured, his gaze shifting between the Commander and the princess.

He caught Lexa glancing towards his sister, her eyes widening.

"Do you and the Commander have a liaison?" He asked bluntly, and she turned her head sharply towards him.

"Excuse me?" She asked coldly, her blue eyes darkening and narrowing towards Roan.

Her brother, of all people, dared to think she was having an affair with someone? With the Commander?

He shrank under her gaze and swallowed. "Clarke, you can't blame me for thinking that... You look at her like she put the stars in the sky. And she looks at you the same way," He pointed out.

Clarke could feel anger rising within her with each word. Love, was that what he was suggesting?

"Do you know me at all, Roan?" She hissed through clenched teeth.

She couldn't love. The idea of her, loving someone in that way, was impossible. Not that she didn't want to, but because she couldn't, and it made her heart even heavier.

The Commander would never love her either. She thought love was a weakness, and the idea that the illegitimate bastard of the clan that was her sworn enemy would one day be the object of Lexa's heart was laughable.

What Roan was suggesting was an abomination to them both.

"Exactly, strisis. It's because I know you that I say this!" He murmured earnestly; he was worried about his sister. More than anyone, he wanted her to be happy. But to love the Commander when Nia wanted Clarke to be the one to return her head on a pike?

"I can't touch anyone. You know that, and you ask me if I have an affair with the Commander? Of all people?" She looked ready to cut his throat; he knew the signals of his sister when she was about to enter such a crisis.

The way the vein on her forehead throbbed, her eyes wide and wild, and her hands gripping the reins of her horse so tightly that beads of sweat formed on her skin from containing herself.

He swallowed, knowing better than to toy with Clarke this way. His sister was not stable; she was sometimes unpredictable, and a simple thing could lead to a slit throat.

"Clarke, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you," Roan said sincerely. "But I see you, I see the way you look at her. It's as if you're..." He began to repeat, but she cut him off.

"Please, Roan," Clarke interrupted, her voice filled with restrained emotion. "Hod op."

It was a clear warning, and he knew at that moment that his sister was not ready to confront these kinds of feelings. Perhaps she never would be. He shouldn't have pushed her buttons; he knew how sensitive this topic was for her.

He lowered his eyes and nodded. "Moba, ai strisis," He murmured sincerely, but she didn't even give him a second glance.

Their conversation had consumed them so much that they hadn't noticed they were already at the foot of the Tower.

"Welcome to Polis, Kru kom Azgeda," Declared the Commander in a loud voice, his gaze lingering on Clarke a bit longer than anyone else.

They all murmured their thanks, and the princess looked up at the towering structure. It was majestic.

Her previously tense fingers were now contracting with a completely different desire that she rarely allowed herself. The urge to immortalize the feeling of seeing the building. For the first time in a long time, Clarke wanted to draw again.

However, the more her green eyes occupied her mind, the more she wondered if it was truly the first time in a long time that she wanted to resume drawing. Her fingers seemed to have been hanging uselessly by her side ever since her eyes met those of the Commander.

She pushed these unwanted thoughts to the back of her mind. It was time to explore Polis.

Clarke had been given the best suite, simply because it was on the Commander's floor for some unknown reason. The other Azgedans, including Roan and Marcus, were lodged in the dignitary corridor. She couldn't miss her brother's inquisitive look when she was directed to Lexa's floor.

She preferred to think that the Commander had done this solely because of their personal alliance, their strange relationship, and the blood tie. Clarke must have been more interesting to Lexa than the others. Now, she was truly the link and hope for Azgeda. There was no need to read anything more into it.

It felt so warm, unlike the Royal Palace of Azgeda. The candles and the accompanying orange glow, the spacious yet regal room, the soft atmosphere, the fur rugs, the books, the couch, the view of Polis. Everything was incredible, and the more time she spent here, the more she felt immense joy mixed with fear in her chest. Because while she was indeed free from Nia's control for the moment, she was far from everything she knew. Far from her comfort zone. Far from her routine. Far from any familiarity.

Her eyes scanned the walls of her temporary room, and her fingers tightened again as a visual of the walls of her room in Troit flooded her mind. None of them were blank. She had painted an entire story on them, filling the emptiness of her heart and the room. Returning to her room was like stepping into Clarke's world, stepping into a part of her. Yet, people needed to see what was painted on them as it should be seen.

She felt like Lexa would see it and understand everything if she walked into her room.

She took care to unpack all her belongings. She couldn't bring any of her weapons, but Clarke knew that Polis was a neutral city where the risk of attack was minimal. And if it came to that, she was confident in her hand-to-hand combat skills, though she preferred not to resort to that for her own comfort.

She had committed quite suddenly to a new war, now that she thought about it. But then again, it was as much as a strategist and leader as a disposable warrior. It would be the first time Clarke would rule an army. Her authority was little respected in Azgeda except by her loyal friends.

It was a rather hidden fact among the royalty in Azgeda, but Marcus was her First and her father's best friend. King Theo, who was Nia's father, had set a strict rule not to disclose any hints of the formation of royal family members, both to preserve the secrecy of skills and to prevent mentors from being used as weaknesses for royalty.

This meant Marcus was loyal to her, and he would be the first of the Three War Chiefs to approve her ascension to the throne of Azgeda.

That was how she met Bellamy, who had been quite different back then, to be honest. He had been torn between his father's teachings and his First's, which made for a pretty bad result. However, he had a good heart; he was just easily influenced. He had important leadership qualities, mostly thanks to his charisma and quick thinking. However, Bellamy was not an independent leader. He couldn't lead an entire nation, only an army. He needed someone to give directions in his place.

War Chief Thelonious, however, Clarke was on the fence about him. He wasn't bad, far from it. He could be a decent leader, but like Bellamy, he was too easily swayed. However, one thing was certain: Thelonious would do anything for his people, a quality she could see in herself and even in the Commander. This meant his interests lay where his people were safe, so his loyalty would go to Nia as long as she held power.

As for Pike, there was no need to discuss him. He was Nia's most faithful dog in Azgeda, and one of the men who hated Clarke's existence the most. If she became Queen as Lexa intended her to be, then Clarke would have to deal with him.

For now, thanks to her little cascade with Anya, Azgeda was starting to respect and admire Clarke. However, it was not enough, and the nail would be hammered into place when she managed to lead Azgeda to victory against Mount Weather alongside the Commander. For now, the other woman was keeping her promises and valuing Clarke's word, her opinion, and elevating her to her status as their agreement stated.

On a personal level, she was still baffled by the Commander. They had a real connection between them, the princess was sure of it. Lexa's eyes, as she quickly learned, were what betrayed her feelings. She was certain she wasn't imagining the difference in the Commander's behavior with her compared to others, even her closest ones like Anya and Gustus.

Clarke still didn't know what to make of this connection. She still thought whatever it led to would end badly. She preferred not to explore it for now. It was necessary to keep her head focused on her goals and on what Lexa could bring her politically.

Her gaze fell on the balcony, and she bit her lip, wondering if she should step out into the cool night air with her freshly washed wet hair.

She shrugged finally; it wasn't as if she wasn't used to the cold. She had this strange habit of finding high perches in Azgeda. That and the cold would be a return to familiarity.

She headed for the balcony, gazing at the sleeping capital in admiration as she approached. The moonlight illuminated her features, but this was one of the times she preferred to look down rather than up. After all, the Tower of Polis was a beautiful perch, the best she had known and the highest.

She tested the thickness of the ledge before slipping gracefully onto it, swinging her legs over and sitting calmly as if there wasn't a 250-foot drop below her.

Clarke didn't know where this obsessive fascination with heights came from. But she had always had it, that pull and sensation at the back of her mind every time she found herself on a ledge. Like déjà vu. This feeling intrigued her, fascinated her, and made her want to uncover what lay behind it. It was always unsuccessful, of course.

The moon was high in the sky now, and she had probably missed her meal, but how could she care with such a view?

The more she looked, the more Clarke saw the lights of Polis dimming and the inhabitants shrinking like ants, gradually fading away until all that was left was a desert. The cool breeze was stronger than she had imagined; in fact, she couldn't hear anything around her. She would have preferred the quiet, but she would have other opportunities to be on this perch. She didn't hear the knocks repeatedly on her door, nor the door opening urgently, and even less the hurried footsteps. The wind and her thoughts blocked everything.

"Clarke!" The Commander's panting, panicked, and even terrified voice was her only warning before two arms wrapped around her waist, swiftly pulling her away from the ledge and setting her back on her feet frantically.

Both froze as frightened and shocked green eyes locked into absent blue ones.

The princess's scream would haunt Lexa for a long time as she recoiled from the Commander as if someone had just cleaved her in two. Tears flooded Clarke's blue eyes as she backed away, stumbling until she fell onto the ground, clawing at the floor. Her eyes stared at Lexa as if she were a living nightmare, and she suddenly started hyperventilating.

Lexa's eyes widened, her mouth falling open as she stared at Clarke with confusion and panic of her own.

"C-Clarke?" Her voice was hoarse, forced out through the lump that had formed in her throat. She cautiously stepped forward, but Clarke screamed as if a monster were approaching her.

"Beja!" She screamed, her eyes fixed on her.

Abby looked calm, but there was a hint of sadness and madness in her eyes. She reached out towards her terrified daughter, who looked at her mother as if the devil himself had entered her room.

The little blue eyes fixed on Abby's outstretched hand, which was as covered in blood as the rest of her mother. Hers and others'.

"Os souda gon, ai fyucha." It was urgent, delirious, and blurry, something Clarke couldn't comprehend. She didn't recognize her mother. The feeling of panic and danger in her chest was real.

"Ai nou gaf gon, nomon. Ai fir yu." She replied, her voice trembling, just like the rest of her body.

But her mother didn't listen; she grabbed her wrist, and suddenly the scene changed. Clarke found herself on the edge of a snowy cliff, her wrist in a vice grip by Abby. She was cold, she was scared, and she stared into the void with a fearful expression. She tried to step back, but her mother held her firm.

She heard voices behind her shouting in Trigedasleng.

"Hod op!"

Abby ignored them, her focus on her daughter. She smiled peacefully and reassuringly.

"Ething na ste odon, honi. Wich ai op, Klark." Her mother cooed, and her face was still blurry, but Clarke could see the tears streaming down.

Lexa stood frozen in place as she watched Clarke mutter to herself, as if staring at a ghost, her expression filled with pure terror. The Commander couldn't bring herself to take a step towards the helpless, broken, and traumatized princess.

She should never have touched her.

"Clarke..." She murmured, pleadingly, her heart racing with fear for this girl she desperately wanted to help. To save her from herself, from her torment, from her mind and nightmares.

Clarke's eyes sharpened at Lexa's plea, and she suddenly reached out with a gut-wrenching cry as if trying to grasp someone.

"Nomon!"

Five-winters-old Clarke watched her mother's body disappear into the void, her hand outstretched where her mother had occupied the space just a second ago.

She had just killed her mother.

Lexa took another step towards her, and the princess let out a cry of agony as her hands grasped at her golden hair, clawing at it. She huddled towards the balcony door, horror and ghosts etched on her anguished face, sweat dripping down her brow, and her breathing labored like someone who had circled Polis several times without pause.

"I'm not your mother, Clarke," Lexa said firmly yet gently, a firmness in her tone that seemed to startle the delirious princess even in her state.

She saw a drop of blood trickle down Clarke's terror-stricken face, and the Commander's blood ran cold. The princess was so lost in her demons that she was harming herself.

Lexa had never imagined seeing the fearless, strong, protective, and confident princess in such a state. She had never seen anyone appear so shattered, not even herself at Costia's betrayal. And yet, Clarke was the strongest person she had ever seen, she knew it the moment her piercing green eyes met the stormy blue of the princess.

How could someone so strong, so powerful, so untouchable, become such a broken, vulnerable, and destroyed human being?

Lexa didn't know, but one thing was certain; she wanted to help Clarke more than anything. Her heart and soul tore apart with every moment she couldn't do anything to help her, feeling the back of her eyes burn and her throat tight and dry.

She blinked furiously and moved faster than she ever had, with confidence and determination. It was as if her soul guided her towards Clarke. She couldn't let this broken woman go. Never.

Seeing the Commander approach, Clarke let out a scream of pure terror and backed away like a frightened cat towards the balcony door, finding herself blocked but still desperately trying to escape. She was immensely agitated, looking frantic and impossible to calm. She seemed willing to do anything to flee from Lexa.

This reaction tore the Commander apart, shattered her into pieces, and twisted her heart like she had never felt before, but she kept moving forward. She couldn't stop. She wouldn't abandon Clarke.

She continued until she knelt in front of the princess, "Clarke." She raised her hand to pass it over the woman's wrist, but the blonde screamed louder as if tortured and immediately recoiled from her touch.

Lexa felt like she might vomit from the pain in her heart and held back her tears.

"Please, Clarke... You're safe. It's over. Let me help you, please," She pleaded, but Clarke whimpered pathetically and covered her eyes as if to escape her nightmares.

"Moba..." She muttered words of apology and incoherence, pain flowing from each of her words and actions, self-disgust, horror, and agony accompanying them.

"Why are you sorry, Clarke?" She asked softly, but the other woman didn't respond and continued to whimper and mutter, showing no signs of calming down.

Lexa's eyes closed with pain and helplessness, a single tear running down her cheek as her soul was struck by the enormity of Clarke's suffering as if it were her own. She took a deep breath and withdrew her touch; she could see how utterly destroyed the princess was and knew she couldn't do anything for her.

She wasn't the one who could help her.

She was powerless.

Another tear fell from her cheek at this thought, and deep inside, her mind wondered how Lexa could feel so strongly for someone she barely knew? What was this bond that tied her to the princess?

It was unbearable. The pain was excruciating, and Lexa couldn't face this sudden weakness, swallowing back a sob that almost choked her. She moved away from Clarke with regret, looking at her like an unattainable star.

She closed her eyes and moved away enough so that the princess wasn't in contact with her body, a storm raging in her mind. Never had she felt her heart torn in this way. Never had she felt such weakness. Never had she felt so powerless, incapable, and a failure.

She sobbed, a hand over her mouth to stifle her traitorous mouth. "I'm sorry, Clarke," she whispered with a broken voice, shattered for the princess and for herself.

She stood up, firmly intending to leave here and seek Roan to comfort the woman destroyed by her mere touch and torment. Her body acted automatically, like a defense mechanism against this weakness.

Lexa took a step forward, only to feel a warm, clammy hand grasp hers and squeeze so tightly and desperately that her heart did a double take.

"Don't leave me alone."

Chapter 10: The past that never left

Chapter Text

"Don't leave me alone," Clarke's voice was pleading, delirious yet sincere.

Her blue eyes bore into Lexa's with such intensity that the Commander swallowed.

Lexa's gaze shifted from the calloused yet gentle hand that held hers firmly, with the intention of not letting her go, to the intense stare of the princess.

Clarke followed her gaze, breathing heavily. The brunette expected the princess to realize what she was doing and suddenly release her, but Clarke surprised her by holding on even tighter.

Lexa let out a trembling breath, slowly moving closer to the fallen princess while maintaining eye contact.

"Nowe," She whispered so softly and honestly for a reason unknown to her. She saw Clarke's eyes widen, new tears streaming down, and her heart ached for her.

The Commander couldn't resist the urge to hold Clarke in her arms and provide the comfort she needed, so she wrapped her arms around the blonde.

Her left hand pressed against the silky golden locks once their bodies were pressed together. Her other hand remained firmly grasping Clarke's, held tightly in the small space between their bodies.

She felt Clarke immediately tense and hold her breath as she pulled her close, desperately hoping it wouldn't trigger an opposite reaction from what Lexa intended.

She continued running her fingers through the light blonde curls, her cheek pressing against Clarke's damp one. The princess's body remained tense for what seemed like hours, but her sobs had stopped as Lexa tried to soothe her as much as she could.

A long moment passed before the princess finally wrapped her right arm around Lexa, her face burying into the Commander's neck while her fingers dug into the other woman's left shoulder.

'She's hugging me...' Lexa thought with pure astonishment, keeping her hand in the blonde locks and her other hand giving Clarke a reassuring squeeze to show her gratitude for letting her in.

Lexa knew that not even Roan had the privilege to touch Clarke, which made her even more shocked and amazed.

She felt tears on her neck and a trembling breath, so she held Clarke closer.

It was only after a while that the Commander pressed her lips against the princess's ear.

"I'm sorry for what you've been through, Clarke..." She murmured sincerely, her fingers trailing down to the blonde's nape to draw soothing circles.

"Can you tell me what you saw? You don't have to, but—" She began after a moment of hesitation and calm, but Clarke cut her off.

"I killed my mother," She sobbed against the Commander's soft skin, and Lexa froze.

"I pushed her off the cliff, Lexa... She died because of me," She continued, her nails digging into the fabric on Lexa's shoulder.

The Commander could feel Clarke starting to hyperventilate, and she placed a kiss on her head. "Shh... It's not your fault, Clarke... You were a child," She said softly, her other hand stroking the back of the princess's hand with her thumb.

She felt Clarke's other hand grip tighter onto her coat, knowing it was the only form of acknowledgment she would get.

"Whatever happened there, it's not your fault. Don't blame yourself for your mother's death. It would never have happened if Nia hadn't found you," She whispered gently, her gaze lifting to the sky where she could see the reflection of the flame illuminating the top of the Tower among the bright stars.

Clarke cried harder against her, but Lexa didn't see these tears as weakness. The princess let them flow in front of the Commander, and that was the greatest display of strength Lexa could witness.

"None of this is your fault. I know you think everything happened because you were born, but that's not true. You make the world better, Clarke. The only person to blame is the Queen. Honor your parents' memory, don't let Nia win by suffocating who you are. You are so strong..." She continued, conviction present in every word. She wanted Clarke to feel how much Lexa believed it.

"You were born for greatness, Haiplana Klark kom Azgeda, and your parents couldn't have asked for a better heir than you," She finished, finally lifting her left hand to scratch Clarke's scalp.

The princess's grasp on her shoulders was like a vice at this point, and getting any closer was impossible. It was as if she was trying to merge their bodies.

"You are the strongest person I've ever had the pleasure of knowing."

It was as if those words triggered something in Clarke as a sob escaped her throat and her tears flowed harder. The hold around Lexa tightened into an iron grip, and the Commander wondered for a moment when was the last time Clarke had physical contact with anyone.

They stayed pressed against each other, firmly and silently. Lexa cradled Clarke tenderly while the princess buried her face in her neck. There must have been over half an hour where they held each other in silence, Clarke's grip on Lexa loosened but not enough to let her go. She didn't seem to want Lexa to leave.

Eventually, Lexa gently disengaged from her embrace, smiling when she heard a slight protesting whimper.

"You need to eat, Clarke," She said softly, cupping the princess's cheeks and wiping away the tear tracks with her thumbs.

Lexa wasn't sure what had led her to take such care of Clarke because she knew she wouldn't have done this for anyone else. Comforting her, holding her, showing affection, feeling for her... She even cried seeing Clarke's pain.

The last time Lexa had cried was when she was still mourning Costia's betrayal.

Clarke's eyes were red and swollen, but Lexa could still see the blue orbs that quickened her heartbeat. She nodded, pressing her cheeks more firmly into the Commander's touch.

The other woman gave her an encouraging smile and helped her to her feet, keeping her hand in hers as they crossed the room and seated Clarke in a chair.

"I'll have food brought to us," Lexa declared, clearing her throat.

All Clarke could do was nod.

Roan had met with the ambassadors and generals of the Coalition clans the previous day, and it had been quite exhausting. Only Anya's presence had made things amusing for him.

His sister's absence had been noticed, of course, but he hadn't dared to disturb her after their last altercation. In his view, she was still upset with him. It made him anxious and sad, but Anya had cheered him up in her sarcastic way.

However, he now preferred to sort things out with his sister and genuinely apologize. So, he made sure to come at dawn with a tray prepared with all of Clarke's favorite breakfast items.

He knocked twice before opening the door when there was no response, and he immediately saw his sister jump.

"Keryon! You can't scare me like that, Roan!" she said in a slightly louder voice than usual.

He chuckled at that and advanced the tray as a peace offering, "I knocked twice, little sister."

Roan saw how Clarke's eyes lit up at her favorite pastries, and he smiled.

"You did it?" She asked, squinting, but she joyfully accepted the food.

Roan nodded, "You were probably too absorbed in..." He glanced at the pencil Clarke was holding and the paper, and his eyes comically widened, "...drawing?" He asked, amazed and inquisitive.

He hadn't seen Clarke paint or draw anything in a while. In fact, the last time was when she covered the walls of her room in the palace with her art. He had been completely amazed, almost ready to kneel before his sister's talents.

Clarke blushed slightly but nodded, hiding her drawing behind her back like a child caught stealing.

A big smile spread across Roan's face, "What did you draw?" He asked, approaching, only to be confused when she backed away and hid the drawing even more.

"I can't let you see it," She said with wide eyes and nervously bitten lower lip. Her neck and cheeks were red, and he blinked.

She was adorable, and the big brother in him wanted to run to her and hug her until she couldn't breathe.

"Why? You've always let me see your drawings before," He said with a pout, trying to peek over his sister's shoulder.

She shook her head, "Not this one," She replied softly but firmly, and he sighed in disappointment.

"Fine," He said, crossing his arms and lowering his head like a wounded strik azpakstoka.

His act didn't work on his sister at all, as she quickly walked to the drawer on her nightstand and hid her drawing in a pouch.

She let out a relieved sigh that her brother hadn't seen it, which only made him twice as curious.

"Clarke, come on... Why don't you want to show me?" He whined, and she gave him a stern look.

"This one is personal," She said, crossing her hands in front of her, noticing that she was already dressed in her usual attire, including her royal cape. Her sister never let her guard down, even in neutral territory.

An idea popped into his head, "Oh... So that's what it's about," He declared with a huge smug smile, the kind of smile someone wears when they know something the other doesn't.

Instant suspicion flashed in Clarke's eyes, and he smiled even more, "What are you talking about, branwoda?" She asked irritably, lifting her chin in a show of arrogance to match Roan's smug attitude.

"You draw naughty things, don't you?" He suddenly asked, and he nearly burst out laughing when he saw the comically shocked and offended look on Clarke's face.

She looked as if she had seen Marcus naked making love to Nia.

"WHAT?!" She roared, and he couldn't help but burst into laughter until tears streamed down his face, making her even more furious.

"How can you even think things like that, you branwoda? The only pervert in this room is you! All the women you bring to your bed, you really..." He didn't listen to her rant; it was too much for him, and he laughed even harder.

"You're so easy to tease, little sister," He said after regaining his composure, wiping a tear from his cheek. He grinned at Clarke's exasperated expression.

After a brief staring contest of sibling looks, he gestured to the food tray, "Come on, eat. You need to regain your strength; I know you didn't eat yesterday."

Roan saw his sister hesitate at that but didn't press further. "Thank you, Roan," She said gratefully, helping herself to a pastry.

Her eyes widened at the taste, "This is amazing!"

He smiled; his sister seemed like a child today for some reason, full of lightness.

"This is Polis food for you," He replied, watching her affectionately as she ate.

After a moment of silence, he spoke up, "I'm sorry about yesterday," He said sincerely, watching his sister tense up with concern.

She looked up at him, eyebrows slightly furrowed in thought. "You don't have to apologize, brother. I might have been a bit... excessive," She said awkwardly.

Roan shook his head, "No, I shouldn't have pushed the topic. You were right, Clarke," He insisted, growing more worried as he noticed the princess's unusually subdued reactions.

She tried to lighten the mood, "Of course, I'm always right," She replied with a forced smile, but her eyes were elsewhere.

"Clarke?" He asked nervously, moving slightly closer to her as a sign for her to talk. He thought he saw guilt for some reason.

"I need to tell you something," She said softly, clenching her jaw nervously.

He raised an eyebrow, "What is it?" He asked, matching her soft tone.

Clarke sighed, her gaze dropping to her left hand thoughtfully for a few seconds.

"I had a crisis yesterday," She replied, and he tensed completely.

"What?! Clarke! What happened?" He became deadly worried, scanning her body for anything, as if that could somehow help his sister.

Seeing how close her brother was to losing his head, she raised a hand to signal him to calm down.

Her authority still worked on him.

Or maybe on everyone.

"The Commander touched me. It was unintentional," She added before he could unnecessarily anger himself, and she saw him clench his fists to keep calm. But his eyes were already clouded with pain, fear, and worry.

"I... I had a new memory," She stammered, tears suddenly welling up in her eyes, and she shut them to push them back.

"Clarke..." Roan murmured with genuine concern, and she opened her eyes again to see him staring at her with widened eyes.

Her vulnerability was a burden even for others.

Her jaw tightened at this thought. "I killed my mother."

She had to fight to keep her voice steady as she revealed this, though Roan could see right through her. She saw how shocked he was by this, and she swallowed.

"It was all very blurry, but... Queen'sgonawere chasing us, I was sure she was running away from something. I know little, but at one point, we found ourselves at the edge of a cliff. There were voices behind us, probably Ice Nation warriors." She swallowed and paused, watching Roan look ready to explode.

"Mom was telling me to trust her, that everything would be over. I don't remember much of what happened, but I think..." Her voice faltered, and she cleared her throat, "I think she wanted to kill both of us to escape the life Nia had planned for us. She wanted to end it all."

Speaking aloud what she had seen made it all so much more real, and she felt nausea wash over her. Her hands clenched and gripped the edges of her leather tunic.

"What...?" He looked utterly shocked by the revelation, distraught even.

Suicide was one of the worst dishonors a warrior could commit. For Abby to come to that point, she must have feared more than anything what would happen to her and her daughter if they were caught by Nia, to the extent of killing her own daughter with her.

And he failed to protect her from the life Abby feared for Clarke. He swallowed at this thought, tears welling up in his eyes.

"I'm not clear on what happened next, but somehow I pushed my mother... And she fell off the cliff without me," She finished, pinching her lips and closing her eyes.

She was no longer hungry.

Roan was shocked by his sister's revelations. He looked at her with deep sadness and obvious compassion. He wanted to find the right words to comfort Clarke, but he was almost overwhelmed by the magnitude of what she had just confided in him.

The princess looked down, overwhelmed by a mix of shame and pain. "I didn't want to... I didn't want to kill her, Roan. I don't understand why... why I don't remember clearly, why I..." Her voice choked on her words.

"You don't have to justify yourself, Clarke." Roan approached slowly, almost reaching out to comfort her but then hesitated. "What happened... it wasn't your fault. You were a child. Your mother loved you, she wanted to protect you," He said with conviction, looking at her with pleading eyes.

Clarke felt tears welling up again, but she tried to hold them back. "I... I keep wondering if I'm... if I'm bad."

Her brother shook his head firmly. "No, Clarke. You are strong, you are a loving person. What happened there... it was because of circ*mstances, fear, my mother's cruelty. You are far from bad."

He felt powerless; he wanted so much to hold her in his arms, but he couldn't.

He had failed to protect his sister.

His own mother was the cause of what had happened to Clarke. He was the son of the source of his sister's pain.

Clarke didn't respond, her gaze falling on Roan's hand as she recalled the events of the previous day.

She had touched Lexa. She had held her hand, begged her not to leave. She had embraced her. She had breathed in Lexa's comforting scent of jasmine and forest, felt her skin against hers, all without having a seizure. Not to mention the few affectionate touches after Clarke had calmed down and Lexa had brought her food. Their conversation had been light and calm afterward, far from politics or heavy anxiety.

How could she tell Roan?

That she had touched someone else, but the touch of her own brother, just thinking about it, still disgusted her?

She couldn't. He would be both shattered and happy for her, but she couldn't bear that look in his eyes. The one he gave her when he felt powerless and useless in helping her through her weakness, even though he was more precious to her than a thousand kingdoms.

"How did the meeting with the other clan representatives go?" The abrupt change of subject earned a offended look from Roan, but Clarke's own stern gaze prevented him from saying anything.

He tried nonetheless, "Clarke—" He began, but she cut him off.

"Roan." It was a warning, and he would be foolish not to heed it.

He sighed and rubbed his temples. "Half the representatives were missing. It was quite dull. However, everyone will be summoned to discuss the strategy we'll put in place, and the organization of our armies and positions. I think we'll depart from Polis after our armies are in place, and strategy development will begin in TonDC, which is closer to the Mountain," He said, crossing his arms over his chest to show his displeasure.

Clarke felt a bit guilty for keeping things from her brother, but it was for his own good. She nodded, pushing the tray away.

"Do you want to train?" She asked, getting up, letting him know she would go with or without him. He gave her a playful look at that, contrasting with his previous demeanor.

"I'd never miss a chance to train with my dear sister," He chirped, and she shook her head with amusem*nt.

Her brother was an idiot.

They were both heading towards the training grounds after leaving Polis Tower. They exchanged their usual banter, trying to ignore the underlying tension.

However, Clarke's attention was drawn to a group of children training diligently on the largest and most secluded training field, and she was puzzled. Not only did the children training seem far too talented, almost as strong as the most seasoned warriors in her unit, but also it was relatively early for training. It wasn't uncommon for warriors to train at dawn, on the contrary, but it was barely the hour and the children looked like they had been training for a while.

Her eyes widened imperceptibly as she saw the eldest of the children, a young boy with sandy blond hair bordering on reddish. He was almost as strong as she remembered during the clan wars.

"They are the Natblida," A sudden voice next to her remarked, and Clarke had to forcefully control herself from jumping. She shot a dark look at Roan for not warning her of the Commander's presence, who shrugged helplessly.

"Heya, Heda. It's early," She greeted, trying to calm her pounding heart. It was the second time since yesterday that Lexa had managed to sneak up on Clarke. She should have expected it, she was the Commander after all. But it still made Clarke uncomfortable, feeling vulnerable. Generally, she was more aware of her surroundings than this.

She tried to ignore that the real cause of her discomfort was mostly the fact that Roan was present and unaware of Lexa and Clarke's last interaction.

The Commander gave her a knowing look as if she could read her thoughts, and the princess felt her cheeks flush.

"Heya, Hainofi. Indeed," Was the powerful woman's only response, and Clarke shifted awkwardly due to memories of the previous day while Roan observed the interaction with far too much interest and curiosity.

"Are you here to train the Natblida?" Clarke asked after a moment of silence, watching the talented children train with subtle amazement from both Clarke and Roan and hidden pride from Lexa.

"No, I am here to train. And you?" the Commander inquired, shifting her gaze from the Natblida to Clarke and Roan.

"Me too, Heda," She admitted, establishing a brief but deep eye contact with the green eyes that drew her in like light attracted butterflies. Their eye contact didn't last more than two seconds before being interrupted by an enthusiastic cry.

"Heda!" Rang out a young, cracking voice likely going through puberty. The three warriors turned to see the eldest blond Natblida approaching, the most promising one that Clarke had noticed earlier.

He stopped, however, about three meters away from them, casting wary and perplexed glances towards the two Azgeda royalties.

"Hei, Aiden. Yu laik mou yuj otaim," Lexa complimented briefly, pride well-hidden in her green orbs. He smiled shyly, his cheeks reddening.

"Mochof, Heda." He turned his attention to Clarke, squinting at the symbolic twin scars of the Azgona. His eyes widened imperceptibly as he analyzed her. The sun-kissed blond hair of the Azgeda princess, her uniquely shaded blue eyes, and her Azpakstoka fur cape were her distinct features after all. Not to mention her rare beauty.

His gaze shifted to Roan, who was watching him with a smug smile, and Aden's expression became slightly more apprehensive, but he eventually rearranged his features into a blank mask so similar to Lexa's that Clarke felt a shiver.

"Emo laik Hainofi Klark kom Azgeda en Hainofa Roan kom Azgeda. Ste sof kom emo," Lexa spoke with respect in her tone that surprised the other three individuals.

Aden trusted his Commander's judgment more than anyone else, so if her Heda implied that the Azgeda royalties were trustworthy, he wouldn't question it. He swallowed his own intimidation in the presence of the imposing Azgona and offered them a small but genuine smile.

"Sop, Hainofa, Hainofi. Ai laik Aiden kom Trikru," He said, bowing slightly towards them with politeness and respect.

Clarke couldn't help but smile at the boy; she had always had a soft spot for young warriors and felt the need to care for them. It was a tough life being trained to kill at such a young age, she knew better than anyone after being handed over to the devil herself from a completely different world.

"Sop, Aiden. You can call me Clarke," she replied with an exceptionally gentle tone, earning a radiant look from the Natblida, a surprised yet approving and gentle gaze from Lexa, and an exasperated look from Roan as he always was with Clarke's weakness for young warrior children.

"Sha, Klark," He acquiesced, and she couldn't help but place the palm of her hand on her chest and nod her head towards him as a sign of respect and affection. Once again, he blushed shyly under the affection. You didn't have to be from Azgeda to know that affection was rare among warriors. She didn't see the slight affectionate smile tugging at the corners of the Commander's lips in response to her gestures.

Of course, someone had to ruin the moment.

"Kom auda emo op, Aiden!" grumbled an irritating voice of a bald, tattooed man in priestly robes. He ran towards them as if Clarke had a knife to Aden's throat. She tucked away all emotion under her impassive mask and let her hand fall to her side, giving the angry bald man an empty stare.

"Yu mes oso op, Titus," Lexa emphasized bluntly, and Clarke had to control the victorious smile that threatened to break her impassive demeanor. As for Roan, he didn't even bother hiding his chuckles.

He looked at her with a helpless and confused expression. "Ba, Heda... Yu nou na teik Azgona nibo raun Natblida, skwed thau goufas kom Nia!" he exclaimed, his gaze fixed on Clarke and Roan with hostility.

"Shof op, Titus. Klark ste ai bakon, ai wich em op," Lexa's declaration left everyone's eyes widened. Titus looked on the verge of a heart attack, and Roan's eyes were so wide it seemed like they had been pried open with pliers.

Clarke forced herself to dispel her surprise and exchanged a confused look with Lexa, who returned it with a confident gaze.

The blonde knew their relationship was... different, since yesterday, but to this extent?

The Commander trusted her?

"Have you lost your mind, Heda?!" Cracked Titus, and for once, the roles were reversed as everyone gave him withering looks for his disrespect.

It was usually him reprimanding others for disrespecting the Commander.

"Ai laik Heda. Nou chich op ai bilaik daun, Fleimkepa. Ste ona oyu geda," Lexa growled, and he cringed under her fierce gaze, fear visible in his eyes.

"Moba, Heda," he apologized, head and eyes lowered in shame. She nodded in satisfaction.

"You must learn to stop questioning my judgment, Titus. If I say I trust Hainofi, there is a reason for it. Do not question me further and go continue training the Natblida," She commanded with a ruthless and authoritative voice that left no room for discussion. For some reason, Clarke felt pleasant shivers run down her spine at the display of the Commander's strength.

Titus nodded in fear, though he dared to cast a disapproving glance towards Clarke and Roan. Aden bowed respectfully to Lexa, Clarke, and Roan before joining the Fleimkepa.

There was a silence among the three warriors before Lexa turned to Clarke with seriousness.

"I know you were about to train with your brother, Hainofi, but I would like to request a sparring match with you. One on one," She added, glancing at Roan whose eyes narrowed.

"My sister is not in a condition to fight, Heda. Her injuries are only seventeen days old," He spoke before Clarke could open her mouth.

The Commander gave him a half-amused, half-arrogant look. "Yet you were planning to spar with her. Do you doubt your sister's abilities to spar with the Commander, Hainofa?" she asked coldly, but not without a victorious gleam in her eyes as he lowered his head.

"No, Heda," He muttered under his breath, casting a nervous glance at Clarke who still hadn't had a chance to speak.

The princess shot her brother a stern look before turning to Lexa.

"I would be honored, Commander."

Chapter 11: We are what we are

Chapter Text

Clarke's gaze was locked on Lexa. Her left hand gripped firmly onto a wooden sword similar to the Commander's.

She assumed a noble, balanced posture, ready to react to any attack. Her feet, firmly rooted in the ground, formed a stable base, ensuring quick mobility while maintaining crucial stability. Her knees were slightly bent, prepared to absorb the impact of an attack or propel her into a graceful dodge.

Her torso leaned slightly forward, creating an offensive profile while preserving balance. Her shoulders were squared, ready to bear the weight of the weapon and allow maximum range of movement. The princess's gaze was focused, intensely fixed on the Commander.

The wooden sword was held firmly, its handle gripped in her left hand, the pommel resting against her palm, ready to pivot to adjust the weapon's trajectory. The blade extended before Clarke, its tip directed toward her opponent, poised to strike, parry, or counter.

Her other hand, positioned near the hilt, remained ready to adjust the sword's balance or execute a quick defense. Every muscle in Clarke's body was tense, poised to respond to any threat, and her expression reflected unwavering determination. Her warrior's stance embodied the perfect alliance of power, agility, and vigilance.

As for Lexa, she stood with feline agility, adopting a fluid and elusive posture that suited her slender, petite frame. Her silhouette leaned slightly backward, creating an illusion of constant movement. Her feet barely touched the ground, granting her exceptional mobility, ready to glide through enemy attacks.

Slightly bent knees demonstrated remarkable flexibility, allowing her to move with disconcerting ease. Her shoulders swayed lightly from side to side, confusing Clarke's eyes, as Lexa maintained a calculated distance. Her sharp, penetrating gaze explored every detail of Clarke's stance, searching for any weakness. Her agile hands manipulated the wooden blade with astonishing dexterity. The weapon, held with delicate grip, seemed a natural extension of her movements.

The Commander's fighting style relied on reactivity and speed. Dodges were executed with the grace of a dancer, and counterattacks were precise and disconcerting. The wielded blade always sliced through the air with an almost hypnotic fluidity.

Unlike Clarke, Lexa preferred mobility over brute strength, dancing around her opponent with disconcerting agility. The tension in her body was not static but rather like a taut string ready to snap at any moment. The Commander embodied a harmony of agility, cunning, and deadly precision, presenting a unique challenge to any warrior daring to challenge her.

She tilted her head toward the blonde before suddenly lunging, angling her sword toward Clarke's body. The princess skillfully dodged by moving to the left of the Commander. Unsurprisingly, Lexa was swift and agile, her sword already back above her head, prompting Clarke to block rather than dodge this time.

With more strength than Heda, Clarke pushed her weapon against Lexa's to break her guard, but the brunette had anticipated her move. She used Clarke's force to propel herself backward, out of the blonde's reach, with astonishing agility.

"We must always find a way for the Mountain, Clarke," She spoke as Clarke spun her blade in her hand.

"Really? You want to talk strategy now?" Clarke asked with an amused raised eyebrow, preparing for a new offensive.

Lexa wasted no time in leaping forward again, and Clarke gracefully parried each strike. The more Clarke blocked, the faster Lexa's speed increased, intensifying the sword fight.

The Commander focused her offense on Clarke's upper body, causing the blonde to concentrate her defense there, and slipped at the last second to perform a quick leg sweep of the princess.

She fell onto her back but wasted no time in forcing Lexa back by vigorously kicking her legs. She used the distance from the Commander to swiftly get back up and flashed a smile.

"Not bad, Heda."

Lexa had a slight, arrogant smile on her lips in response.

"I want to consult with you before anyone else. You're very intelligent, Clarke," She declared, brushing dirt off her shoulder.

Clarke pursed her lips, too preoccupied with Lexa's words to see the next attack coming directly at her. She had no choice but to violently thrust her sword toward the Commander's chest, forcing Lexa to roll on the ground to avoid the flying weapon. However, she quickly got back on her feet, leveraging Clarke's disarmed state.

The blonde proved surprising in her ability to dodge and counter with bare hands, but the brunette launched an attack from the left before following up with a fierce blow to Clarke's shin, forcing her to kneel.

"A warrior must never let themselves be distracted," Lexa said softly, looking at her with sparkling eyes, the tip of her sword lifting Clarke's chin.

The princess smiled.

"Indeed," She replied evenly as Lexa felt something sharp press against her thigh, where a large vein could mean instant death from hemorrhage if pierced.

She lowered her eyes, seeing a dagger protruding from Clarke's left sleeve. She raised her eyebrows at the princess.

"You do know that weapons are forbidden in Polis, don't you?" She asked, fake sternness in her tone, retracting her sword as the blonde retracted her dagger.

"One never knows when they might be needed," Clarke replied sheepishly, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Lexa always had a weakness for Clarke's smile.

"I suppose that's true," She said gently, discreetly looking around before reaching out toward the princess, whose smile faded.

"You can do it," The Commander declared gently as Clarke swallowed, her eyes fixed on the appendage.

What if she had another episode?

"I'll be here," Lexa assured, as if reading her thoughts. The tender gaze of her emerald eyes was enough for Clarke to make a decision.

She made eye contact with the other woman as her left hand slowly rose to brush against Lexa's. As their skin touched, both women felt a shiver run through them.

Finally, Clarke wrapped her hand around Lexa's, the warmth of their palms and the soft contact making them gaze at each other in wonder.

The blonde waited, that ugly and repulsive feeling in her heart and mind as her skin touched another's. That feeling that left her paralyzed, unable to act, plunging her back into her demons. That intense disgust that made her feel nauseous.

There was none of that, and she suppressed the tears that threatened to well up.

Lexa smiled at her in the most beautiful way and pulled her to her feet, her gaze shifting from Clarke's blue eyes to their linked hands with gentle adoration.

The Commander's thumb traced the calluses on the blonde's hand so tenderly and affectionately that the princess closed her eyes and tried to control the pleasant shivers running through her body.

Someone cleared their throat behind them, and the two women immediately stepped away from each other as if burned, turning to the person who interrupted them, their hearts pounding in their chests and cheeks flushed.

"Ah, um, Luna," The Commander cleared her throat awkwardly and swallowed as she looked at her sister. Clarke's eyes widened at this but she quickly regained her blank expression.

"I apologize for the interruption; I wasn't aware anyone else was here with my dear sister," Luna declared in a flat tone, but her inquisitive and teasing eyes said otherwise.

There was also a suspicion in her hazel eyes.

"Ah, I was training with Heda. She suggested it when we crossed paths on the training grounds; I didn't know she was expecting someone," The princess replied flatly, while Lexa's gaze uncomfortably shifted between Luna and Clarke.

"I see. I extend my greetings, Hainofi Klark. I was disappointed not to meet you last night, but I suppose this makes up for it," The Floukru leader nodded slightly toward the younger woman.

Clarke placed her palm on her chest and nodded in return, though she fought to suppress the smile on her lips seeing Luna's sparkling eyes at this greeting, similar to Lexa's when Clarke first met her. They were sisters for a reason.

"It's a pleasure, Seya Luna kom Floukru," She replied, glancing at Lexa, who remained silent.

She met her burning gaze, the Commander looking directly into Clarke's eyes with an intensity that quickened Clarke's heart and flushed her cheeks.

Luna didn't miss a beat.

"I think I'll leave you both; I apologize for interrupting your training," Luna's emphasis on the word 'training' was not lost, and both women shot her a dark look that made the redhead smile.

"In fact, I was about to leave. I intended to meet with my gona to discuss the upcoming war," Clarke intervened before Luna could depart.

She didn't miss the disappointed look Lexa shot her. She chalked it up to the other woman wanting to discuss strategy alone before the meeting with the clan representatives.

Floukru's leader blinked at that, "I met your gona yesterday. They are interesting. Especially one of them, her name is Reivon. I'm pleased with what you can bring to this war, Hainofi," Luna declared with a slight, genuine smile. She was very cautious; after all, she had the princess of Azgeda in front of her. But she was also an excellent judge of character.

Clarke gave her a strange look. "Thank you for your compliments. I'm glad Raven caught your attention, though it doesn't surprise me," she replied, stepping to the edge of the training ground and passing Luna before turning back to the two women. "Mochof for the sparring, Heda. It was an honor to train with you. And a pleasure to meet you, Luna."

"It was equally an honor for me to train with such a talented warrior as yourself, Hainofi," Lexa replied with a grateful nod. Her features remained a blank slate, but her eyes still reflected her feelings.

"Likewise," Luna said, watching Clarke leave after the princess nodded goodbye to them.

The redhead turned to the Commander.

"You have some serious explaining to do, strisis."

"Gyon op gon Heda!" Titus's voice rang out as the throne room doors burst open, Lexa entering with a swift yet royal and graceful stride. Everyone obeyed, rising from their seats.

The fifteen generals all had chairs, but the guards were required to stand throughout.

Once Lexa took her place before the throne, hands clasped behind her back, she nodded her usual stoic nod towards the generals.

"Sop, Heda!" A chorus of voices echoed, and only then did Lexa sit, silently allowing the generals to take their seats in turn.

The Commander's gaze briefly met Clarke's, enough to take her breath away at the intensity in her green eyes. The princess maintained her carefully impassive air and offered Lexa a barely perceptible nod in return.

Her gaze was no less intense, though. Few had missed the silent exchange between the two women.

Almost no one. Luna cast inquisitive and suspicious looks towards her sister, once again racking her brain to guess at the relationship between the Commander and the princess.

"Ogud. We have new matters to discuss. First, I would like to introduce Hainofi Klark kom Azgeda. I suppose you all know she has been in Polis since yesterday. She is accompanied by Hainofa Roan and Wormana Markus, as well as two honorable Azgeda warriors, Belomi kom Azgeda and Reivon kom Azgeda. I invite you to welcome them properly," She began, her voice full of authority, and everyone in the room widened their eyes for different reasons.

The fact that the Commander, known to be quite hostile towards Azgeda, was suddenly asking them to be hospitable to the Kongeda outsider clan was quite surprising to them. They all wondered what kind of scheme this was. The second was meeting the fallen princess in person, and all the ambassadors were unsurprisingly intimidated. Clarke exuded a power and authority akin to Heda despite her relaxed posture in her chair, her cold blue gaze sweeping the room with a mix of challenge and observation.

Not to mention her appearance, confirming the legends about her. The unique sun-kissed blonde complexion of her hair, the striking shade of her eyes that was hard to find elsewhere. The twin scars on her face were typical of Azgeda and suited her perfectly, and unlike most warriors, her hair was loose with a single simple braid encircling her head. Her bangs fell over her face, giving her an ethereal yet intimidating air.

Apart from her unforgettable beauty, her dark clothing made of leather and precious metals added to her intimidating stature, not to mention her royal shoulder pauldron and the typical Azpakstoka fur cape standing out. Out of politeness, her twin blades were not strapped to her back, but no one doubted she was armed; everyone here was armed with at least a dagger in case of unexpected events.

The other generals nervously swallowed, torn between the hostility they all felt towards Azgeda and fear of this absolutely formidable woman, unlike the bastard they might have expected. Finally, it was Ilian from Trishanakru who decided to follow the Commander's order.

"Monin Hainofi Klark, Hainofa Roan, Wormana Markus, Azgona. It is an honor to have you among us," His voice strained, obviously requiring monumental effort to speak these words. Clarke knew Trishanakru was a clan particularly close to Trikru, part of the army of the eight unified clans—when the Coalition was still incomplete—that marched on Azgeda, and one of the clans that had done the most damage. Trishanakru and Azgeda therefore maintained particularly tense relations.

'Like most clans of the Kongeda,' She bitterly thought, forcing her hand to unclench. She had this instinctive reaction to the obvious hostility against her and her people reigning in the room. This urge to slit all their throats.

'This is exactly what Nia has been trying to turn me into all this time. I need to calm down.' She let out a small sigh through her nostrils before acknowledging Ilian with a simple nod of thanks, causing Roan, Marcus, Bellamy, and Raven to follow suit in mimicking her movement.

The polite response from the Azgonawas clearly not what the other ambassadors had expected, judging by the surprise on their faces. Clarke thought that perhaps, for a moment, the hostility towards her clan was justified. To elicit such a positive reaction simply because they recognized the greetings from the Trishanakru general meant that the previous Azgeda ambassador and delegations had been less than charitable.

The other generals and war chiefs all welcomed them in the manner of Ilian, but the tension returned to the room, and Clarke withdrew her previous thought that the hostility was deserved.

They were all real bastards, just like the Azgeda diplomats sent before to Polis.

"Ogud, I suppose now that the introductions are done, we should begin the meeting," Lexa's calm yet naturally authoritative voice cut through the room with disarming ease, and all noise ceased instantly, attention directed squarely at the Commander.

"As you know, the Mountain is a common enemy to the Twelve Clans since Praimfaya. They steal our people, and those unfortunate enough to be captured by the Mountain Men never return. However, the Kongeda unites us all, and it is time to fight for our people, to reclaim the blood that has been taken from us. If you are all gathered here today, it is to plan the greatest war our people have ever faced. You will be the minds behind our warriors, and for that, I require unwavering loyalty and cohesion from each of you. If we cannot work together, then it won't be the Mountain that kills us, but ourselves." She waited for everyone to nod in agreement before opening her mouth to continue, only to close it when a general—Cabor from Delfikru—raised his hand.

"Sha, Wormana Kabor kom Trishanakru?" Lexa raised an eyebrow. He cleared his throat, a bit nervous under the Commander's gaze and that of everyone else in the room.

"How can we count on coexistence among the clans when Azgeda continues to defy the Coalition and tries to sabotage us?" He asked, casting both nervous and sullen looks towards Clarke, Roan, and Marcus. The princess gave him a bored yet condescending glance, impatient to see Lexa's response.

Her warriors looked ready to slit the general's throat, so Clarke silently raised a finger to signal them not to react.

"Do you have accusations to make against Azgeda?" Lexa asked calmly, her tone impassive but her eyes clearly challenging Cabor.

The general blinked, his gaze shifting to the Azgedans who stared at him like a pack of wolves ready to pounce.

"You can't ignore their transgressions, Heda. You know they are the first to sow dissent. The Ice Queen has sent the Prince and the Princess to lead her army; it's obvious she's planning something!" Added General Abel from Boudalan, his disdainful gaze directed towards the Azgeda.

"You can't make accusations without evidence, Wormana Abel," Clarke intervened, a bored expression on her face.

She could see the moment the general's face turned red with anger.

"I won't be lectured by a bastard," He spat, pointing a finger at her, and Bellamy and Raven immediately stepped forward.

"Do you dare insult me, Wormana?" Clarke dangerously demanded, rising from her chair and advancing slowly like a predator stalking its prey. She looked almost... animalistic.

Lexa's eyes darkened under the show of force, and she swallowed heavily, receiving a discreet kick to the shin from Anya.

"Focus instead of acting like an excited teenager, branwoda," Her former Fos admonished, her voice half-serious and half-teasing, and Lexa's eyes widened slightly as she tried to hide her blush.

"Shof op, Anya!" She murmured harshly, adopting an impassive demeanor that was belied by her flushed cheeks. Anya chuckled beside her as Gustus rolled his eyes.

Everyone could see the spark of absolute fear in Abel's eyes; he actually looked like he might wet himself. Yet, he quickly straightened up and stood as well.

"I'm just stating facts; you don't belong here," He sneered, his eyes rolling so far back in his head that Clarke feared they might get stuck.

"Do you challenge me?" The blonde retorted, eyebrow raised. The room was filled with tension as the two leaders stared each other down.

Roan stood from his chair at that, but Marcus placed a hand on the prince's chest, signaling him to be quiet and wait.

The question made Abel more nervous than he let on, but he maintained his arrogant and pompous air.

"Sha. I challenge you to prove your worth, in a fight to the death. A weakling and a bastard will not lead an army to fight against the Mountain without proving she's worthy," His words dripped with venom, but there was a mischievous gleam in his eyes that suggested he thought he would win.

He didn't expect Clarke to accept, it wasn't even in his mind.

The princess didn't even flinch, her penetrating gaze so deep into Boudalan General's eyes that he felt his soul being judged; the icy orbs made him shrink and feel the urge to submit. Clarke's gaze was too fierce, too cold, too animalistic, overflowing with authority and confidence.

It was the gaze of someone who had the power to move crowds with a single gesture.

"And I accept your challenge," She replied with a cold voice, a subtle arrogance coloring her tone. She didn't break their eye contact, tension still palpable in the room. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin with an arrogant and royal air, her lips barely curving a millimeter as she watched Abel stutter and his eyes comically widen.

The general's mouth opened and closed, a bead of sweat forming on his temple.

He wasn't the only one shocked by the turn of events. The other generals all looked on in astonishment, a mixture of fear, admiration, respect, and anticipation evident on their faces. Anya watched with a smug smile, fully aware of the princess's strength after firsthand experience.

As for Bellamy and Raven, they appeared ready to fly into a rage and decapitate both Clarke and Abel, the fierce protectiveness in their eyes almost endearing Clarke.

Lexa, behind her composed mask, looked equally surprised, but there was a dark look in her eyes and a subtle spark of discreet panic that made the princess's heart race. Clarke maintained eye contact with her, as if to communicate.

Trust me.

"I object!"

Of course, she had forgotten about her brother.

All eyes turned to Roan, who looked poised to pounce, his eyes wild with anger and concern. Roan's interruption cut through the tense atmosphere like a blade. His gaze fixed on Clarke, silently pleading with her to reconsider her decision.

"Roan." Lexa's voice was calm but authoritative, cutting through the rising tension. "This is not the time for rash decisions."

The prince's jaw clenched as he stared at Abel, fists tight by his sides. "She cannot accept this challenge," He insisted, his voice low but firm.

Clarke held Roan's gaze for a moment, her expression unreadable. "Yes I can, and I will," She retorted, her voice steely and her eyes fierce. She wouldn't let her brother's concern stop her.

Respect was earned, she knew from the start.

"No! Heda, beja! He accuses Azgeda of causing interclan conflicts, yet he provokes and challenges the royal heirs of my clan! You should punish him and refocus attention on the original issue of the meeting! This is exactly what you wanted to avoid, Commander, and he's deliberately causing it!" Roan spat, his voice trembling with contained rage, his gaze shifting between Clarke, Abel, and Lexa.

Lexa's mouth twisted into a thin line, her gaze hard as stone as she looked at Boudalan General.

"You are overstepping, Wormana," she warned, her voice dangerously low, even causing her sister to shudder.

'He doesn't know he's tempting the devil.' Luna thought, watching with genuine interest. When Lexa cared about someone, she had a serious problem with overprotectiveness. Luna could see that if things continued like this, her sister would soon throw Abel over the Tower.

Abel nervously swallowed as all eyes turned to him, but the looks that scared him the most were those of the Commander.

She looked so savage behind her blank face, reflected in her aura, her gaze, her voice. He felt like he had just sealed his own fate. His confidence wavered under the weight of Lexa's dark, murderous stare.

He had already gone too far anyway.

"I, Wormana Abel kom Boudalankru, challenge Hainofi Klark kom Azgeda present here, to the Challenge of Honor under the Law of the Blood Rite."

The room erupted into a frenzy of voices as Lexa, Roan, Bellamy, Raven, and Marcus froze.

Even Clarke swallowed.

This law was an ancient law established by Sheidheda, Malachi kom Sangedakru, involving a test of honor and judgment. The challenged had their honor questioned and were labeled weak in the face of an important situation, and they had to prove their strength through a challenge involving successive fights to the death. They would have to fight each volunteer who stepped forward and kill them, or be killed themselves. The maximum number of combatants was fifteen before being declared the winner, but often, the challenged died. If they didn't die, then warriors stopped volunteering early out of fear, and the number of volunteers didn't reach ten.

It was, in fact, still active. This challenge wasn't for just anyone, only high-ranking officials whose place was being questioned. However, this bloody and horrifying challenge hadn't been undertaken since the reign of Sheidheda.

Clarke pressed her lips together, briefly closing her eyes as she understood the gravity of the situation.

Her gaze met the Commander's once she reopened her eyes, and for a moment, she thought she saw Lexa's lips tremble and a hint of moisture in her eyes. Clarke's own blue eyes widened at the look of pure fear in the leader's eyes.

Fear for her.

Lexa's green eyes pleaded with Clarke to refuse. It was a matter of honor, and even the Commander couldn't intervene.

The princess clenched her fists, mentally apologizing to her loved ones for what she was about to say.

She had always been known to be stubborn, after all.

We are what we are.

"I stand by my previous statement; I accept your challenge."

Chapter 12: We are buried in broken dreams

Chapter Text

"Clarke, can you tell me what you're playing at?" Roan practically roared, a furious tone rarely directed at her. His eyes glared at her with such anger that the princess's heart ached for her brother.

"I had no choice." She clenched her jaw, resisting the urge to rub her temples. Her warriors were pacing the room.

"Are you kidding me, princess?! We're talking about the challenge of the Blood Rite Law! Not just a simple death duel, Clarke!" Raven spat harshly, her dark eyes and impetuous voice filled with fury. She looked ready to kill Clarke herself.

"What do you want me to do, cancel it? I can't!" Clarke hissed, looking at each of them as she anticipated a lengthy confrontation. Even Murphy seemed angry.

"Wake up, Clarke! You're going to fight wave after wave of warriors, alone, without a break! You may be strong, but even the Commander couldn't win this one!" The prince took a deep breath, his hands gesticulating wildly as he spoke and his face shaking with exasperation.

Clarke knew her brother; she knew that behind this enraged facade was absolute fear and deep pain. She worried about his rapid, irregular breaths, fearing he might trigger a panic attack.

She felt like the worst human being. So many times she had stressed her brother, made him bear the heaviest burdens, worried him, hurt him.

He would be better off without her.

"You don't know that." She said softly instead, trying to convey her guilt but also her confidence.

She wasn't as confident as she appeared.

"Of course I do!" He shouted so loudly that his voice echoed in the room and made the other occupants, until then silent, flinch. He closed his eyes to try to calm down, but his eyes began to water and his voice trembled. "Clarke... I know you're a skilled fighter, Keryon, I know! But we're talking about a bloody duel, against several volunteer warriors who have trained their entire lives! You may be strong, but you're human!"

Clarke closed her eyes, as if to block out her brother's screams and the worried, piercing looks of her Azgedan companions. She wanted to block everything out. She needed to think.

She knew Roan was right, it wasn't something realistically achievable unless you were a war machine. But what choice did she have? Her honor was at stake, the future of Azgeda was at stake, and that from the second Abel had issued the challenge. She had already accepted, and from the moment she committed, there was no turning back. Not in a death match, it would be considered a forfeit and she would be executed. Moreover, nearly all the clans supported the challenge, she had no choice but to prove her worth. Of course, they all expected to see her die horribly and pathetically.

Clarke half-expected it too.

But it wasn't possible, she couldn't die. Her fight wouldn't end now, her people needed her to survive. Azgeda needed Clarke to free them from Nia, she knew she was the only one along with Roan capable of restoring greatness to the clan and saving them.

If she refused the challenge or died in it, then her people were doomed to Nia's tyranny and her inhumane way of ruling.

"I'm sorry, Roan, but it has to be this way. You can't stop it." She said after a heavy silence in the room, and she could see the moment everyone looked ready to explode.

Her brother shook his head frantically, his eyes unable to focus on a single part of Clarke's face as he seemed to try to grasp what was happening.

"You... Y-You can't... No," He gasped, his trembling hands rising to press against his eyes as if to stop the tears from flowing.

"Roan-"

"NO!" He screamed, his wild and heartbreaking eyes making Clarke's heart stutter in her chest. All the agony and terror on Roan's face left a hovering silence in the room as they all processed what was happening.

"You think I'm going to allow this?! Watch my sister, my blood, my flesh, fight for her life without intervening?!" His voice grew louder with each word, but also more broken. The immense pain colored the Prince's being, and she could do nothing to remedy it.

Echo placed a hand on Roan's shoulder, but he violently shrugged off her grip, his legs trembling as he headed for the balcony of Clarke's room without another look.

The tension in the room was at its peak, and Clarke felt the stress and anxiety overwhelming her.

This was not the time for weakness.

Her hands trembled and clutched the chain on her wrist that belonged to her father.

Clarke felt the others' gazes weighing on her, each filled with worry, anger, and incomprehension.

Bellamy stepped forward, his face grave. "Clarke, maybe there's another way. Maybe we can negotiate, find a different solution. I'm willing to kneel before the Commander, princess." He pleaded, his voice kept as stable as possible but she knew him. She could see the gentle terrified eyes, she could almost see Bellamy's furious heartbeat.

"Bellamy, you know that's not possible," She replied nonetheless, her voice tinged with fatigue. "The challenge has been issued, and if I withdraw now, it will be seen as a weakness. Not just for me, but for all of Azgeda. It's also the honor of Azgeda royalty at stake."

"She's right," Marcus intervened, crossing his arms. "Backing out now would be catastrophic for Azgeda. But Clarke, you can't face this alone. There must be a way to support you."

She looked between father and son, her teeth clenched. She knew they meant well, but their denial of the situation was slowly making her blood boil. Especially since they were only making things worse for Clarke, she felt the first signs of her anxiety starting to appear and cursed the disorder that people before Praimfaya called "obsessive-compulsive disorder," because the chain from her father was being tugged and fiddled with so much it was at risk of breaking, and Clarke could never forgive herself if she broke the last thing left of Jake.

She also knew she wouldn't be able to control herself if she entered that kind of emotional state, and she didn't want to scare them with an excessive and sudden reaction.

Clarke took a deep breath, trying to calm the trembling in her hands. "Listen," she said, her voice firmer. "I won't back down, and you won't beg the Commander in any way. It's final, the challenge has been issued." She announced harshly, her blue eyes boring holes into each of them.

Wells looked ready to burst into tears, and she couldn't blame her childhood friend. She was aware of his feelings for her, but it was strictly one-sided. She adored him, but would never be in love with him. However, if she were in his place...

For some reason, an image of the Commander flashed in her mind and her features quickly hardened as she shook off those thoughts.

The dark-skinned warrior stepped forward, his voice trembling with emotion. "Clarke, you are more than a leader to us. You are our friend, our family. There must be another solution, something we haven't considered yet."

Murphy quickly nodded in agreement with Wells.

"Wells is right, you can't do this alone!" He exclaimed, his voice betraying his rare concern. "There has to be another way."

It was so out of character for the usually sarcastic boy that it added even more pressure to the princess.

"Clarke, please," Harper added, desperate. "We can't let you do this."

"I won't back down," Clarke repeated, her voice starting to crack under the pressure.

She couldn't handle their voices rising uselessly, and her hand pulled harder on her chain, scratching her skin and leaving crescent marks on her wrist. Her gaze was empty, her eyes fixed on an nonexistent point as her breathing quickened and sweat began to form on her face.

The tension in the room was mounting, everyone trying to find words, solutions, but all knowing the decision was irreversible. Clarke felt her emotions boiling over, anger, frustration, and fear blending into an explosive co*cktail.

"Hod op!" The princess suddenly screamed, her voice echoing in the room like a thunderclap. Her voice was so powerful and thick that it resonated in the hallways. Silence fell instantly, all eyes turning to her, shocked. "I don't want to hear another word! Don't you understand? It's my duty. It's my responsibility. I accepted this challenge and I must see it through. Not just for me, but for Azgeda. For our future." Each word was chewed, spat out, punctuated and filled with undeniable authority and firmness.

She was resolute and would no longer tolerate the disrespect of her warriors regarding her decision. She would no longer allow herself to be challenged. Clarke knew what she was getting into when the Commander proposed this secret deal between them, and that it would be a long, hard road to prove her worth.

Her eyes shining with tears and rage, Clarke looked at each face in the room, crossing the space to emphasize the effect of her words, and it worked seeing how everyone avoided her gaze. "I know you're scared. I am too. But we have no choice. I have no choice. So stop trying to find solutions that don't exist. You need to accept this. You need to support me."

The blonde's words fell like hammer blows, crushing the hopes and resistance of her friends. Bellamy lowered his head, his fists clenched. "Alright, princess," He finally murmured, his voice broken. "We'll be there for you."

The others slowly nodded, acceptance making its way through the pain and fear. Echo, lips tight, nodded. "We'll be there," She said, exchanging a look with Bellamy, who squeezed her hand and kissed it, as if to support her although Echo knew it was more to reassure himself.

"We don't like it, but we respect your decision," Murphy added, his voice rough. As for Raven, her eyes were filled with tears of rage, but she finally murmured, "You're crazy, Clarke, but... I'll support you. I believe in you, and if anyone can do this, it's you."

The princess took a deep breath, looking at her friends with a grateful gaze. She couldn't believe people cared about her beyond Roan, it seemed so hard. Yet, they were proving her otherwise.

"For Azgeda," She said firmly, looking at each of them as they all nodded with resolve and determination.

"For Azgeda!"

The tension in the room slowly dissipated, replaced by a silent determination. They all knew what was at stake. Clarke had to fight, and though it terrified them, they had no choice but to accept it.

Her gaze turned toward the balcony when Roan emerged, his eyes fixed on her.

There was a look in his eyes that made Clarke wary, her body tensing.

He stepped forward, his blue eyes and somber expression unwavering. "I, Hainofa Roan kom Azgeda, pledge myself as Osleya to Hainofi Klark kom Azgeda." With these words, he drew a dagger and plunged it into the ground as he knelt before his sister.

Of course, what else could Clarke expect? As always, Roan was bending over backward for her, sacrificing himself for her, and bearing everything he could in her place. All because he loved her more than his own life and felt guilty for the miserable life his sister had led under Nia’s care.

But not this time. She wouldn't let him sacrifice himself.

Everyone around them was shocked, but deep down, not that much. They were just nervous about what would happen next.

"No," Clarke declared, her voice full of authority and command. The simple word was so powerful it made the Azgedans' chests tremble. She left Roan no choice, no opportunity.

She locked eyes with her enraged brother, her gaze unyielding, her voice never wavering, "I, Hainofi Klark kom Azgeda, refuse to take you, Hainofa Roan kom Azgeda, as my Osleya. This is my fight."

Her declaration wasn’t shocking, but it provoked a wave of indignation and outrage from Roan.

He remained kneeling, his furious gaze fixed on Clarke, his body tense. "You don’t understand what you’re doing, Clarke. If you fight alone, you will die." His voice, though filled with anger, betrayed a deep fear.

"And you won’t die if you fight in my place?" She asked sarcastically, crossing her arms and fixing him with a powerful stare.

He clenched his teeth. "You are my little sister, it is my responsibility to ensure your safety. If that means dying so you can live, then so be it," He retorted, no trace of hesitation in his words as his eyes bore into Clarke with the same stubbornness as the blonde’s.

The princess closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of every word. "How is it your responsibility? This fight isn’t even about you, Roan. It’s my honor that’s being challenged, it’s illogical for it to be your responsibility. I refuse your offer, you won’t convince me otherwise," She responded, her eyes still closed.

The ensuing silence was oppressive, heavy with everyone’s anxiety. Clarke opened her eyes and fixed her brother with a steady gaze. "I know you want to protect me, Roan. But this is my duty, my choice."

Roan clenched his fists, his face contorted in pain. "I can’t watch you die," He said desperately, his voice full of agony and fury.

She approached him until she was kneeling at his level, "You don’t have to. You need to support me, as you always have. But this time, by letting me go alone." Her words were softer this time, but just as firm.

The prince lowered his head, his shoulders trembling with emotion. She glanced at her friends who stood there in silence and gestured for them to leave, which they did, though not without hesitation. She ignored the anxious looks they shared, her attention fully on her brother.

She searched his face until he raised his head, looking him in the eyes, trying to convey all the determination she felt. "Roan, I know this is hard. I know you want to protect me. But there are battles I must fight alone. You taught me to be strong, to fight for what’s right. You have always supported me. Do it once more."

Roan lifted his head, his eyes misty with unshed tears. He knew he couldn’t say anything to change his sister’s decision. The unwavering determination in her blue eyes was a force he knew well. Finally, he nodded slowly, reluctantly accepting what he couldn’t change.

"I’ll be there, Clarke. Always," He murmured, his voice broken but resolute. "I’ll watch over you, even if I can’t fight by your side."

The princess smiled sadly.

"I know."

Clarke wandered through the hallways of the Tower, deciding to look for books in the enormous building’s library. Roan had fallen asleep in her bed, and she was glad he was getting some rest after all the stress she had caused him. However, she couldn’t find rest herself, so she preferred to find something to distract her, and a book seemed perfect.

Of course, Lexa had heard her leave the room and was quickly on her heels.

“Clarke,” The Commander barked angrily, and the princess knew from her tone that a confrontation was imminent. “You will not fight.”

The blonde sighed and stopped, allowing Lexa to catch up. She turned, meeting furious eyes filled with extreme worry. She didn’t know how her relationship with Heda had become so... personal. Then again, it was probably her fault, after letting the other woman see her in her most vulnerable state and more so, allowing herself to be comforted and touched by her.

“You say that as if I could back out,” She said wearily, fatigue coloring her tone. She was honestly tired of this discussion; it only stressed her out more. What she wanted was support.

Then again, the childish, burning part of her craving recognition and affection loved the concern of those close to her.

The Commander clenched her jaw so tightly that Clarke could see the muscles working in her cheeks. Even that was hot. This woman had a gift for looking sexy even doing the most mundane things.

“You can, Clarke. This challenge hasn’t been issued since the reign of Sheidheda. Everyone knows it’s madness and a risky gamble to issue it to someone. You can contest it. Maybe you can’t avoid a fight to the death, but I’ve seen your strength, and you have a much better chance of surviving that than the Blood Rite.” Lexa reprimanded her with so much agitation, nervousness, fear, indignation, and anger in her voice that Clarke realized she was seeing more emotions from the Commander than she was supposed to.

Was it that Lexa had generally opened up to her, or was the challenge really disturbing her?

Clarke hoped it was a mix of both.

“Don’t be in denial. If I ask to change the challenge to a duel to the death, it amounts to showing weakness. Azgeda’s honor is at stake, Lexa, not just our agreement and my life. I can’t change my mind once I’ve agreed!” she said angrily, trying to control her body’s urge to move, to do anything under the intense anger and stress that consumed her.

She hated the weakness within her. The crises, the lack of control, the reactions of her body when she didn’t know how to handle her emotions.

Her hand gripped the chain on her wrist, starting to tug and fiddle with it nervously. Her limbs trembled, and she knew she must look like a wild animal trapped in a cage on the verge of breaking free.

Her words did nothing to reassure Lexa, who seemed on the brink of a nervous breakdown, just like Clarke.

“It’s not just about our agreement! You don’t stand a chance against the Blood Rite challenge,” Lexa spat, approaching her like a lion ready to pounce. The tension was so high that the princess feared it might explode.

The raw anger in the Commander’s emerald eyes might have been what made Clarke gulp and fueled the tension in the room, but her indignation, wounded ego, and her own anger fueled the disgust in her words.

“You’ve never seen me fight for my life,” She growled with rage, her blue eyes blazing with anger as her body responded to Lexa’s provocation by stepping closer to the Commander until they were face to face.

The other woman clenched her jaw, her dark green eyes reflecting her fury, slowly turning into a storm of rain.

“I won't just sit here and watch you die!” Lexa shouted in her face, raising her hand to emphasize her point.

Clarke’s eyes widened at the amount of emotion and panic in Lexa’s voice and eyes, and she gulped, realizing that the other woman was not worried about their agreement but about her.

The Commander was breathing heavily after her outburst, trying to compose herself. Her face was so close to Clarke’s, as was her body.

“This cannot end now,” Lexa murmured far too calmly, her voice defeated and trembling. She moved closer to Clarke, while the blonde backed up until her back hit the hallway wall and her eyes widened again.

“What are you talking about, Lexa? This won’t end,” She said, blinking in confusion.

There was silence, the Commander’s eyes heavy on hers before the brunette moved closer until their chests touched and the princess could feel her breath on her lips.

She gulped, glancing a little too far down from Lexa’s eyes.

The tension was unbearable.

Whatever Clarke felt for the Commander, she realized it might be reciprocated.

“I’m asking you to trust me, Lexa. Everything will be fine. I’ll fight, I’ll win, and we’ll work together better. I’ll have everyone’s respect, which is perfect for our agreement.”

Lexa’s eyes moved to Clarke’s lips as she spoke, and the blonde felt her face flush and her heartbeat quicken. She opened her mouth again, about to speak, but the Commander refocused her eyes on Clarke’s and nodded.

“Can you really win?” She questioned, softly and calmly. The vulnerability was still present in her voice.

Clarke’s hand rose trembling, making Lexa’s eyes widen as she watched the hand slowly approach her face, hesitant but determined.

It reached its destination, resting gently on Lexa’s cheek, the touch making the Commander’s eyes flutter as her lips parted.

The blonde smiled softly, marveling at the contact with another person without feeling disgust or repulsion, not even diving into her nightmares. On the contrary, touching Lexa seemed to have a healing property, as Clarke’s stress significantly diminished.

She traced the Commander’s jaw slowly, almost sensually, feeling Lexa shiver under her touch.

“I will win,” She assured, her nose inches from the other woman’s. Her eyes overflowed with confidence, inspiring Lexa to trust her too.

“Swear it to me,” Lexa whispered, her right hand rising with slight hesitation to rest on Clarke’s hip, gently tracing the bone and leaning into Clarke’s hand on her cheek.

“Ai swega klin,” Clarke said, her heart pounding.

Lexa’s eyes were filled with emotion and focused again on Clarke’s lips.

She exhaled a trembling breath, followed by the slightest nod as she pressed her forehead against Clarke's, her nose gently brushing and nuzzling the princess’s.

The contact was so tender that Clarke felt her heart melt and her lips twitch with pure happiness.

“I do trust you,” Lexa murmured sincerely, tears in her eyes.

Those four little words were so important to her, and the shared moment was so precious that Clarke couldn’t help but throw her arms around Lexa’s neck.

The other woman didn’t hesitate, reacting instantly by wrapping her arms around Clarke’s waist, holding her so tightly against her body it seemed she was trying to eliminate every millimeter of distance between them.

“Thank you,” Clarke breathed, and that was all.

Lexa hadn’t seen Clarke since their little moment the previous day. She knew the blonde was too busy training. She had asked Lincoln to report on Clarke’s training sessions - which might seem a bit creepy - and she knew Clarke was training in the best possible way by forcing her warriors to fight her successively. Lincoln had seemed completely shocked and amazed every time he returned from witnessing Clarke’s training, and at that moment, she knew that if anyone could take on this challenge and survive, it was the princess.

That did little to ease her nerves.

It was too dangerous; it wasn’t a fight in Lexa’s eyes but an execution. She trusted Clarke, but could the princess keep such promises? If she didn’t, it wasn’t as if she could feel guilty for breaking it, since she’d be dead.

The more Lexa thought about it, the more her eyes stung.

That’s why she found herself in Clarke’s room late in the afternoon. She knocked several times, called the blonde’s name but received no response. The princess was obviously still training, and rightly so. The challenge was in two days.

The Commander could have left, but her hand hovered hesitantly over Clarke’s door handle for a moment. She needed to feel the blonde’s presence somehow, needed reassurance. Entering the space where the princess slept and had made her home during her stay in Lexa’s capital was the best way if Clarke wasn’t there to reassure her.

Ignoring the uncertain looks from the guards, she opened the door, entering the space slowly before closing it behind her.

The silence that greeted her pained her heart. She had unconsciously attributed this room to Clarke, and entering it without her felt strange.

Her green eyes landed on the princess’s bed, which she occupied, and she could make out a slight indentation on the right side of the mattress, making her smile, almost imagining Clarke’s form sleeping peacefully.

Did she even sleep properly?

Probably not, given all the trials Clarke had endured that still traumatized her, making her incapable of touching anyone. The nervous, anxious, highly stressed gestures that sometimes accompanied her only reinforced Lexa’s belief that the princess’s sleep was probably very disturbed, and her heart ached at the thought.

She sighed, approaching and running her finger over the blankets before sitting down. What if Clarke died?

Could Lexa bear it?

She hadn’t known the princess for long, but to say the Commander hadn’t felt a piece of her heart being conquered by Clarke would be a lie. She didn’t know if she could put words to this feeling, didn’t even want to because the answer terrified her. However, the one thing she knew was that she never wanted to witness Clarke’s death. The very thought made her let out an anguished groan, and she swallowed, her hands trembling.

Her gaze swept nervously around the room until something caught her eye in her peripheral vision.

The drawer of Clarke’s nightstand was half-open, almost begging Lexa to take a look, and she clenched her jaw, her gaze fixed on it. She was curious, wondering what Clarke hid there.

It was probably a weapon, nothing remarkable, but on the other hand, she felt a tugging sensation in her chest begging her to look.

She mentally apologized to the princess and gave in to her curiosity after five full minutes of indecisive back and forth with her hand toward the drawer.

Her curiosity grew when she saw a white piece of paper with black edges as she leaned in, and opening it, she felt shock wash over her.

It was a portrait of herself.

It was drawn so perfectly, so well captured that it seemed Lexa had merged with the drawing, the play of shadows flawless. Everything was detailed to perfection, as if the artist had analyzed her for hours and knew every structure of her face, every freckle. Even the fierceness in Lexa’s eyes was represented, captured in the most beautiful way.

The Commander saw herself in a new light, and she watched a drop of water fall onto the drawing, without ruining the art.

She raised her hand to her face, finding moisture on her cheeks that surprised her. She hadn’t realized she was so deeply touched and impressed.

“Clarke...” Her heart tightened as she whispered the name like a prayer.

She had never known how the princess saw her, but now she did. It was too well portrayed; one had to be blind not to capture the artist’s message in this drawing.

This woman truly held a piece of her heart, and Lexa gave it willingly.

Chapter 13: Blood Rite

Chapter Text

Clarke had forsaken her white cloak, opting instead for leather garments from her wardrobe that were flexible and provided adequate protection against blows, along with typical combat armor.

As she stepped onto the square forming the combat arena, people all around counted in the thousands. There were fifteen thousand inhabitants in Polis, and Clarke was sure the entire city was gathered to witness the Azgeda princess fight for her life with the cruelest challenge ever devised by a Commander. It would undoubtedly be the most fascinating and bloodiest fight these people would ever see in their lives, unless she were to die quickly.

Clarke had absolutely no intention of dying today. She refused to let her fight end.

She exhaled, feeling the warmth of the sun seep into the black leather of her clothing and the rays kiss her golden hair. Her icy blue gaze scanned the noisy crowd, all of them looking at her as if she were a sideshow attraction, or with fear. She knew she looked intimidating with her deadly and confident expression, her intricate warrior braids, the twin scars on her face, the fierce and icy blue eyes, and the black and white war paint.

She hadn't worn this paint since the last time she had taken a life in battle.

Her gaze turned to the privileged seats, where her friends were. She hadn't been able to talk to them before having to take her place in the center of the arena, but they were there during her preparation and she had heard more than enough of their anxieties to know their state of mind. Their gaze was lost, fearful, panicked, and she could even see from here Roan's lower lip trembling as he looked like he was about to faint.

He looked at her as if it were the last time he would see her.

Her heart clenched, because if she were to die today, she knew it would be horribly and she didn't want her brother to witness this literally suicidal duel.

She had to survive, for Azgeda, for her friends, for her brother...

For Lexa.

At the thought of her name, she tore her gaze away from her friends and turned it to the squadron in front of the arena where clan representatives and the Commander were seated.

Her gaze immediately found the Commander's, who was staring at her intently.

She had also put on her war paint, and Clarke thought the Commander looked terrifying but breathtaking. Magnificent. She took her breath away.

'If I die today... Then I might as well be honest with myself, and with her,' She thought, clenching her fist as she maintained intense eye contact with Lexa, trying to convey everything she could.

Our time together is not over.

I need you.

I care about you.

You make me weak.

I want to fight by your side, every battle in my life, for Azgeda, for the Coalition, for our people, for you, for me.

My life belongs to you, my allegiance and respect will be eternal.

Trust me.

I'm sorry.

Each of these phrases echoed in the princess's head as she tried to say everything to Lexa through her eyes, and at the sight of the Commander exhaling a trembling breath and a tiny nod, she knew she had succeeded.

Lexa's shoulders were no less tense, the fear in her emerald eyes still displayed openly for Clarke, and she still looked ready to deliver her soul by witnessing this challenge. She could see the agony in her gaze, see the lump in her throat move as Lexa forced herself to swallow, and her knuckles were so tightly clenched to her armrests that the blonde thought they would break.

But she was there, she trusted her, supported her, made her feel, saw her.

She nodded back, mouthing the words on her lips fleetingly but knowing that Lexa's gaze was focused enough on her face to read them. "I'm glad to see you here."

She saw the Commander swallow again, eyes fully focused on her lips. "Me too," She replied, and Clarke tore her gaze away from Lexa as she heard the war horns at the same time and the roar of the crowd.

Lexa stood up, silencing the crowd with a single hand movement. "Hashta Jus Shou kolau, won gona gon gosik. Osleya ste Hainofi Klark kom Azgeda. Bilaik won hedon nou mou; Throu kom taim wamplei!"

Her voice was powerful, strong, authoritative, and made Clarke's bones tremble even more, adrenaline quickly rising as shivers spread down her spine. It was as if Lexa's voice and her declaration had given her an enormous extra boost of confidence, and she knew deep down that she couldn't lose. She had to win.

Her fight wouldn't end today.

As the Commander finished her speech, the crowd roared again with such force that Clarke felt the rumble of their voices resonate in her own chest. She exhaled another trembling breath and lifted her chin, adopting a strong stance with no sign of weakness.

Her gaze swept the crowd with a clear air of superiority, as if she were challenging them with a single glance. If she were to die, then it would be with the memory of her fighting valiantly and without ever faltering. She wouldn't humiliate herself in front of these people.

"Du gaf ste gosik?" Lexa asked, and even though her voice remained just as strong and impenetrable, Clarke could detect the anxiety in her facing the question that would formalize things.

From the corner of her eye, the princess saw a warrior step forward - Trikru - unsurprisingly.

"Ai laik Fio kom Trikru, en ai laik gosik gon throu Hainofi Klark kom Azgeda kom taim wamplei," He declared in a loud, arrogant, and almost brutal voice. She could feel from here how strong, sad*stic, and cruel this man looked. He resembled more the generals of Azgeda than those of Trikru.

The collective gasps in the crowd told Clarke everything she needed to hear.

Fio would not be an easy fight, and she risked leaving her skin there in the very first fight.

A glance towards Lexa and she noticed from the woman's pale complexion that the Commander thought the same. Clarke's jaw tightened, her adrenaline increasing to the point where she was plunged into such a state of excitement that her muscles tensed in anticipation of what was to come. She was eager to hear the signal and leap to tear her first opponent apart. Nothing else mattered, her attention focused solely on Fio and no one else.

A guard handed them both a sword, which they drew from its sheath in unison. Clarke's eyes locked on Lexa once more, receiving all the assurance in those green eyes that she needed.

The corner of her lips lifted.

The horn sounded and she heard wild and hurried steps towards her.

Clarke adjusted her grip on her sword, feeling the familiar weight of the weapon in her hand, every muscle tense, ready for action. The roar of the crowd mingled with the frantic beating of her own heart, creating a symphony of savagery and intensity. Fio charged towards her, his sword poised to strike. Clarke wasted no time. She lunged forward with ferocious agility, dodging his blow with a skillful roll and striking back.

The metallic clash of their swords echoed in the arena. Fio staggered back, surprised by Clarke's speed. She took advantage of this to attack again, aiming for his legs in an attempt to unbalance him. He narrowly parried the blow, his blade descending in a brutal strike towards Clarke's shoulder. She pivoted, narrowly avoiding the blow, and countered by striking towards his exposed flank.

Clarke knew she couldn't match Fio's brute strength. She had to rely on her speed and intelligence. Using her smaller size to her advantage, she slipped under another one of his powerful attacks, landing a quick blow to his side. Fio growled in pain but did not falter, his eyes filled with rage.

He swung with all his might, forcing Clarke to step back. She stumbled slightly but used the momentum to execute a circular motion, slicing through the air with her sword in a deadly arc. Fio parried again, but the impact reverberated through his blade, his muscles straining under the effort.

"You're nothing but a bastard, even your skrish people don't want you." He snarled between clenched teeth, and she shot him a deadly glare as she pushed Fio's sword away.

Their breaths grew heavier, and Clarke felt every fiber of her being focused on this duel, every sense on high alert. She dodged another attack, delivering a quick kick to Fio's knee, causing him to wobble.

Seizing the opening, she rushed forward, striking with renewed force. Her sword clashed with Fio's in a shower of sparks, and she pushed with all her might. For a moment, they were face to face, Clarke's determination meeting Fio's brute fury.

With a cry of rage, Fio pushed her away, but Clarke was ready. She dropped backwards, rolling on the dusty ground before springing back up, ready to counterattack. She lunged towards him, her sword a blur of swift and precise movements. Each blow was aimed at wearing Fio down, exploiting any weakness.

Their blades danced and crossed, the metallic sound echoing in the arena. Clarke, breathless, felt adrenaline burning in her veins. She leaped back to evade a vicious blow from Fio, then rushed towards him again, lowering her sword to strike at his legs.

This time, she succeeded. Fio stumbled, a glimmer of surprise and anger crossing his eyes. Clarke wasted no time. She surged forward with ferocious speed, delivering a devastating blow to his exposed flank. Fio screamed in pain, collapsing heavily to the ground.

Fio quickly rose despite his wounded leg, his eyes burning with anger and pain. Clarke knew he wasn't beaten yet. She reluctantly admitted that the man was extremely resilient to pain. He was bleeding everywhere, but he kept getting back up.

She adjusted her grip on her sword, preparing for a new attack. Fio rose with a grunt, holding his bloody side. He swept the air in front of him with renewed fury, forcing Clarke to step back.

The two fighters locked eyes, seeking an opening. Clarke analyzed every move of Fio's, every tense muscle, every labored breath. She noticed a slight tremble in his right arm, where she had struck earlier. It was a weakness she could exploit.

With impressive agility, Clarke lunged again, feinting an attack to the left before swiftly shifting to the right. Fio, already weakened and slowed by pain, couldn't react in time. Clarke brought her sword down with relentless force, cutting deeply into Fio's right arm. His cry of pain tore through the air, and he dropped his weapon, unable to hold it any longer.

Clarke didn't hesitate. She closed in, using her speed to dodge a clumsy attempt by Fio to strike her with his left arm. She struck again, this time aiming for his shoulder. The impact brought Fio to his knees, his face contorted in agony.

The crowd held its breath, captivated by the savagery of the fight. Clarke knew this was her chance to end this duel. She rushed towards Fio, her sword poised to deliver the final blow. But at the last moment, he swept the ground with his leg, causing her to stumble and fall heavily on her back.

Before she could get up, Fio pounced on her, using his weight to pin her to the ground. Clarke struggled, feeling the pressure on her chest as he attempted to strangle her. She felt the familiar nauseating feeling when her skin touched another, her eyes becoming blurry with panic, fear, and rage.

Don't let your weakness defeat you. Use it to your advantage.

She suddenly fought twice as hard, rage in her eyes and her hands desperately searching for a grip. Her fingers found the hilt of her sword, and with a monumental effort, she lifted it and plunged it into Fio's side.

The warrior recoiled, his face twisted in pain and surprise. Clarke rose, panting, her body bruised but determined. Fio, exhausted, tried to get up one last time. Clarke, seeing one last opportunity, rushed forward and with ruthless precision, she drove her sword into Fio's heart.

He collapsed, his eyes quickly clouding over. The crowd erupted into wild cheers as Clarke stood, breathless but victorious. Her eyes sought out Lexa's, searching for her gaze among the sea of exalted faces. Lexa, her eyes shining with emotion, nodded in approval and relief. She could see the pride, the admiration, and the adoration in them, and the Commander's gaze on her was too intense, so she looked away.

Clarke raised her bloodied sword, her face marked by exhaustion but illuminated by determination. She had survived this ordeal, proving her strength and resilience. But she knew it was just one battle among many. Her fight for Azgeda, for her friends, and for Lexa, was only just beginning.

Fio was a very strong warrior, she knew he rivalled with Anya and even Roan. If all her next willing opponents were like him...

She wouldn't survive.

Her teeth clenched, her hand tightening around her sword as her eyes frantically scanned the crowd for her next opponent. She couldn't stop to think, not really. She had to let herself be consumed by adrenaline, by movement, by muscle memory. Fighting had been instilled in her since her fifth winters, she had known nothing else so losing while fighting was out of the question. She refused to lose in this domain.

The arena's blood was already stained with Fio's blood.

"Eniwon gaf na throu ai, yu na wan bilaik em!" she roared fiercely, her cry echoing in the arena as the crowd remained silent and fearful, fixating on the blood that splattered Clarke's silhouette.

She was a terrifying spectacle at that moment, and she knew it.

Her attempt at intimidation was strategic; she hoped to dissuade as many as possible - she was already exhausted, and she didn't want to have to draw deeper into her energy to fight for her life.

There were significantly fewer courageous souls than before, but a warrior stepped forward nonetheless, and she recognized her as being from Sangedakru.

She looked young, and Clarke commended her bravery after witnessing such a display of strength. Female warriors were often more thoughtful and less arrogant, and she could see that this Sangona would be much more cautious than Fio and would not make the same mistakes as he, nor be a brute.

The combat adaptation method would be different. Playing the opponent's arrogance against them wouldn't work; this woman wouldn't underestimate her, so Clarke would have to pull something that outstripped her.

"Ai laik Karis kom Sangedakru, en ai gaf na throu yu kom taim wamplei," she declared loudly, stepping onto the podium and sweeping Fio's corpse off the stage with a violent kick, sending him rolling away with a trail of blood. The crowd roared at this intimidating demonstration of strength, and Clarke's eyes narrowed.

Caris wouldn't defeat her.

The opposing warrior took the sword presented to her and drew it from its sheath. This time, it was Clarke who lunged the second Caris's sword was in her hands.

Clarke charged without hesitation, her sword describing a quick and precise arc toward Caris's head. The Sangedakru warrior skillfully blocked the blow with her own sword, the blades sparking upon contact. Clarke immediately followed up with a series of rapid strikes, aiming to overwhelm Caris with speed.

The other woman parried each blow with impressive dexterity, her movements fluid and calculated. Clarke felt her opponent's resistance and adjusted her strategy, feinting an attack to the left flank before pivoting suddenly to the right. The Sangedakru warrior, however, was not fooled by the feint and blocked once again.

"You fight well, princess," Caris said with a cold smile. "But it won't be enough."

"We'll see," Clarke replied, her eyes shining with determination. She backed off slightly, assessing her opponent.

Caris attacked in turn, her sword slicing through the air in a series of quick and precise movements. Clarke dodged and parried, her movements fluid but calculated, every muscle tense to anticipate and counter Caris's attacks. Their blades clashed in a deadly dance, the sound of metal echoing in the arena.

Clarke analyzed every move Caris made, seeking an opening. She noticed a slight hesitation in Caris's strikes every time she changed direction. Clarke decided to exploit this weakness. She feinted a frontal attack, then suddenly pivoted to the left, striking with lightning speed.

Caris tried to block, but Clarke was faster. Her sword cut deep into Caris's thigh, eliciting a cry of pain from the warrior. Clarke wasted no time and continued her attack, chaining blows with renewed ferocity.

Caris staggered back, trying to regain her balance. Clarke didn't give her the chance. She leaped forward, striking again and again, each blow carrying more weight than the last. Caris desperately parried, her strength quickly dwindling.

"You won't win," Caris growled, her face contorted in pain.

"Look around you, Caris," Clarke replied, breathless but determined. "You're already defeated."

Clarke delivered a decisive blow, aiming for Caris's exposed belly. The warrior attempted to block, but her reflexes were too slow. Clarke's sword plunged deep into Caris's abdomen, eliciting a cry of pain from the warrior before she collapsed to the ground.

The blonde gasped, sweat streaming down her face staining her war paint, much like the mixed blood of Tristan and Caris.

But not hers.

She looked at the woman impaled on her sword, seeing how she choked on her own blood.

"I'm sorry," She whispered sincerely, and slowly withdrew her sword from Caris's belly, who let out what seemed like a cry of pain stifled by the blood blocking her airways.

She raised her sword to plunge it into the heart of the Sangedakru warrior, but she saw a movement below and her instincts screamed at her to move right now.

Her eyes widened, and she quickly stepped back, but not fast enough to avoid Caris's sword making a clean cut to her ankle, and she withheld her cry of pain, planting her sword in the ground to support herself as blood gushed from her ankle.

She gasped and looked down, seeing the small but deep gash. However, she was grateful for her leather boots. She was sure her ankle could have been cut deeply enough to nick the bone if she had been wearing something else.

Clarke refocused her icy eyes on Caris, who managed to smirk spitefully despite her imminent death. Her smiling and blood-stained teeth were a nauseating sight. The defeated warrior knew that this wound could be deadly for Clarke in the following battles; it would significantly slow her movements and constitute a weakness.

The princess's eyes narrowed, and she approached quickly, ignoring the burning pain in her ankle. "Yu gonplei ste odon," She growled with rage, watching with morbid satisfaction as Caris's eyes widened as she realized it was the end.

Her sword lodged in her throat and pierced the skin.

The crowd roared with approval and excitement, wild at the sight of flowing blood. She could see as much of their excitement as their admiration, respect, and fear for Clarke. The blood on her was even more visible; she wore it as a proud testament to her victory over her two powerful adversaries.

She let out a well-deserved breath and withdrew her sword from Caris's lifeless body.

She looked at Roan, who was torn between horror, respect, relief, and anguish. He seemed on the verge of fainting, even worse than before if that was possible.

She didn't risk a glance toward Lexa, fearing to lose her concentration and attention, but she felt a pair of eyes burning into her back, and she knew exactly with what intensity the Commander was watching her.

She heard footsteps again and exhaled as she saw her next opponent. This one, she knew. Ankara kom Trishanakru, introductions were unnecessary; the two women had faced off during the clan wars. Clarke was too young at the time to defeat Ankara; she was only thirteen winters old.

That was no longer the case now. No matter her exhaustion and injuries, she was stronger than before. No matter that her body was covered in blood and sweat, her muscles sore, her ankle wounded, she would face Ankara with the same wild determination.

Clarke would find a way to survive. She always did.

Today would be no different.

Ankara stepped forward, her steely gaze fixed on Clarke. She was tall and muscular, an experienced warrior from Trishanakru. Her face was marked by the typical Trishanakru tattoos in the form of dots, and she wore lightweight armor that allowed her great mobility.

"Klark kom Azgeda," She said in a deep voice, "you have grown since our last encounter. But it won't change the outcome."

Clarke didn't reply, merely raising her sword. She knew words were useless now. Only actions mattered.

Ankara charged first, her sword cutting through the air with formidable force. Clarke narrowly dodged, feeling a sharp pain in her wounded ankle. She suppressed a groan, focusing on her opponent's movements. Ankara was fast and powerful, each strike aimed at breaking through Clarke's defense.

Clarke parried the attacks with calculated precision, each move dictated by the necessity of survival. Ankara struck with all her might, seeking to exhaust Clarke with continuous attacks. But Clarke held firm, her reflexes and agility allowing her to avoid the most dangerous blows.

"You're more resilient than I thought," Ankara growled, her breath short.

Clarke seized an opening in Ankara's defense to counterattack, striking with ruthless precision. Her sword slashed through her opponent's arm, eliciting a cry of pain from the Trishanakru warrior. Ankara staggered back, gritting her teeth, but her eyes burned with rage and determination.

The two women sized each other up, seeking any weakness. Clarke knew she had to end this fight quickly, before her ankle betrayed her completely. She feinted an attack to the right, then abruptly pivoted left, striking with all the force she could muster.

Ankara blocked the attack at the last second, but the impact made her stagger. Clarke wasted no time, chaining blows with ferocious speed. Each strike was calculated to wear down Ankara, to push her into making a mistake.

Finally, Clarke saw an opening. Ankara lowered her guard for a moment, and Clarke seized the opportunity. Her sword pierced her opponent's flank, eliciting a cry of pain from Ankara. Clarke stepped back, panting, her gaze fixed on her wounded opponent.

Ankara fell to her knees, her face twisted in pain. Clarke stepped forward, ready to deliver the final blow. But Ankara raised a hand, a bitter smile on her blood-stained lips.

"You've won, Klark kom Azgeda," she said hoarsely. "Do what you must."

Clarke nodded, respecting her opponent's courage. She raised her sword and, with a swift motion, slit Ankara's throat. Blood sprayed onto her, and Ankara collapsed, her eyes quickly glazing over.

The crowd erupted in cheers, saluting Clarke's victory. She stood, breathless but victorious, her gaze once again seeking Lexa's. The Commander rose, her face marked by emotion, and nodded in a sign of respect and relief.

But Clarke knew it wasn't over. She could already feel the pain of her wounds, the exhaustion weighing heavily on her shoulders. The next opponent stepped forward, an imposing warrior from Floukru. Clarke took a deep breath, gathering her last reserves of strength.

The battle was brutal and unforgiving. Clarke managed to defeat the Floukru warrior, but at a high cost. Her body was covered in new wounds, her ankle causing her terrible pain, and every movement became a trial.

She continued to face off against increasingly formidable opponents. Each duel left her more exhausted, more injured, but she refused to give in. She fought with fierce determination, her will to survive and protect those she loved pushing her beyond her limits.

By the time she reached the eighth opponent, Clarke was at the end of her strength. Her body was a mosaic of cuts, bruises, and throbbing pains. Her breath was short, and her muscles trembled with fatigue. But she still stood, ready to face this final challenge.

Her eighth opponent, a massive warrior from Trikru, stepped forward. Clarke knew this fight would be the hardest of all; the best fighters came last. She recognized him as Tristan kom Trikru, a general even higher ranked than Anya. She took a deep breath, gripping her sword with unwavering determination.

The horn sounded once more, and Clarke plunged into battle, her heart pounding, her mind focused on one thing: survival.

Tristan charged at Clarke like a raging hurricane, his blows striking with savage force. Clarke skillfully dodged, but every movement elicited a groan of pain, her body battered from the previous fights. Each blow carried the weight of accumulated exhaustion, but she refused to falter, her determination burning stronger than ever.

Every movement was a brutal display of violence and determination. Clarke countered with desperate ferocity, each attack fueled by the desperate will to survive. Their blades clashed in a crescendo of metal and sweat, illuminating the arena with flashes. The ground was stained with blood; they stumbled over bits of entrails and severed limbs at times, but they continued to fight with the same intensity.

Minutes stretched into an eternity of suffering and despair. Clarke felt every muscle in her body burning with exhaustion, every breath wrenching a groan of pain from her. But she refused to yield, her mind ablaze with the flame of determination.

He swung his sword too violently and quickly for her to parry, so she attempted to dodge. Clarke felt the icy bite of the blade as it sliced through her flesh, a throbbing pain that engulfed every fiber of her being. Her cry of pain echoed in the arena, but she refused to falter, her iron will keeping her standing despite the agony consuming her. Tristan's wild smile said it all.

He loved it.

Tristan chuckled, savoring every moment of his imminent triumph. But Clarke, in one last desperate effort, rushed at him, her sword cutting through the air with desperate force. Their blades clashed in an explosion of sparks, and Clarke felt a flash of pain as Tristan's blade plunged deep into her abdomen.

She heard the distant sound of a cry of pure terror and distress in the distance, the cry that sang her name. It didn't disturb her; her mind was focused on the battle she was trying to win.

She staggered, her breath labored, her blood staining her clothes. But despite the unbearable pain, she refused to yield, her gaze burning with determination as she tightened her grip on her sword.

In one final effort, Clarke hurled her sword, a desperate last offensive. The blade whistled through the air, finding its mark with deadly precision. Tristan let out a cry of surprise as Clarke's sword plunged deeply into his chest, piercing his heart with ferocious brutality.

A heavy silence fell over the arena, broken only by Clarke's labored breath and Tristan's agonized moans. Their eyes met in a silent exchange of challenge and determination before Tristan collapsed heavily to the ground, his life slipping away from him in a final breath.

Clarke stood, her body trembling with exhaustion, Tristan's sword embedded deeply in her flesh. She swayed, her strength slowly fading, but she held on, refusing to collapse before her adversaries. Slowly, the spectators realized what had just happened, a murmur of disbelief spreading through the arena.

Her gaze swept over the crowd, her face resembling that of a devil because of the blood that stained it, the white Azgeda paint barely visible.

She knew she would soon fall, but she couldn't now. She had to use the last resort; intimidation.

"Does anyone else want to challenge me?" She shouted with the loudest, most powerful, and arrogant voice she could muster in her pathetic state. However, from the outside, she knew she looked fatally terrifying rather than fatally wounded, and she would play it to her advantage.

"I have fought eight warriors without respite, and they all fell like flies at my feet. I have a sword lodged in my body, and multiple lacerations, but I still move and breathe. Does anyone want to try their luck?" Her voice rose octave by octave with each word, blood dripping from her face in drops, and her tired but proud and fierce blue eyes piercing into each of the faces that watched her.

"Does anyone still doubt my strength?" She practically roared this time, and the extremely heavy and stunned silence that greeted her was the only answer she needed.

She gave a smirk.

Her feet faltered, but she found the strength to nod towards Lexa who looked horrified and mystified by Clarke's state - as if she was watching a divine being. Her green eyes didn't leave her for a moment, and the crazy concern in the Commander's eyes told her that the brunette woman was close to a very nervous breakdown.

Even after such a demonstration of strength, the Commander's cold anger sent shivers of fear down Clarke's spine.

Lexa stood up, her voice loud and swift, "Hainofi Klark win hashta Jus Shou Kolau!" She yelled, once again met with the stunned silence. Some spectators had fainted because of the bloody spectacle, and others because of the fear Clarke inspired.

She had become a legend in a single event.

Her blue eyes pierced Abel's, who was pale and sweaty and looked like he was watching the materialization of a man's worst nightmares.

He was looking at the devil.

She gave him a wicked smile, her lips stained with blood.

Abel's eyes rolled back before he vomited the contents of his stomach in front of his chair, attracting the attention of his warriors who came to help him.

He was going to die anyway, as Clarke had won the challenge he had thrown at her. She would personally take care of his execution.

She looked down at the blade in her abdomen.

If she survive this.

Slowly, a cry rang out in the arena, catching her attention. It was followed by another, until the entire crowd was screaming her name in a deafening tumult. Clarke had triumphed, but at what cost?

She felt her knees buckle, her world swaying around her as exhaustion and pain threatened to overwhelm her. But as she slowly fell into darkness, one certainty shone in her mind: she had won the Blood Rite challenge, and no sacrifice was too great for that.

Chapter 14: One ruler

Chapter Text

Clarke slowly emerged from the darkness. Pain was the first thing she felt, dull and pervasive, radiating from her wounds. Her eyelids were heavy, and each blink felt like an ordeal. Memories of the battle came back to her in disordered flashes: the clash of blades, the blood, the searing pain of Tristan's blade in her abdomen.

She won.

It took her a few moments to realize she was no longer in the arena. Instead, she lay on a bed, wrapped in clean furs. The room was lit by the soft glow of candles, and the soothing scent of medicinal herbs hung in the air. Her muscles were numb, and each breath sent a wave of pain through her body. Yet, she was alive.

Clarke tried to move, but a gentle hand reached for her shoulder to stop her, causing her to recoil abruptly. She turned her head with difficulty and saw a young woman with dark hair and surprised eyes leaning over her.

The woman didn't question her sudden movement.

"Don't move yet," The woman said in a soft but firm voice. "You're seriously injured and need rest."

Clarke opened her mouth to speak, but her throat was dry, and no sound came out. The woman handed her a cup of water, and Clarke drank slowly, savoring the coolness of the liquid.

"You're in one of Polis's medical stations," The woman explained. "You've been unconscious for five days. We did our best to treat your wounds, but you lost a lot of blood, and some injuries were very serious. It will take time for you to fully recover."

Clarke nodded weakly, trying to take in the information. Five days. It felt both like an eternity and a moment. She wanted to ask what had happened during her absence, but before she could formulate the question, the door to the room burst open.

Lexa entered, followed closely by Luna. Lexa's eyes widened upon seeing Clarke awake, and she hurried to her bedside, worry marking her usually impassive face.

"Clarke," She said softly, kneeling beside the bed. "You're awake."

Clarke sought Lexa's gaze, finding a depth of emotion that warmed her heart despite the pain. She made an effort to smile, but the movement pulled at her wounds, eliciting a grimace.

"I'm here," Clarke murmured hoarsely. "What happened?"

The Commander took a deep breath, her eyes shining with a mixture of relief and sadness. "After you defeated Tristan, we brought you here. Your fight was... incredible, Clarke. You proved your strength and determination beyond what anyone could have imagined. The clans speak of you as a living legend."

Luna, who had remained behind, stepped forward. "You've earned their respect, Hainofi. Even your enemies fear you now. I've never seen such fighting talent in all my life." The redhead's eyes were wide with admiration as she looked at the princess in a whole new light.

Clarke frowned, ignoring the lingering pain in her abdomen. "That's how Azgeda raises us," She said calmly, her jaw tightening.

She saw the two warriors share a look at that.

"A meeting took place in your absence, to discuss the Mountain's strategy. Marcus and Roan agreed on an army of five hundred Azgeda warriors. All the clans will send five hundred of their warriors, forming an army of six thousand warriors. You will lead with Marcus. We will head to TonDC in a week to establish a strategy," Lexa spoke softly, gracefully sitting on the edge of Clarke's bed.

The Commander's emerald eyes still roamed her body as if fearing the princess's disappearance.

"I see," She simply exhaled, closing her eyes and lifting her chin. She knew she must have a gaping hole in her abdomen.

Lexa glanced at Luna, and the Commander's sister immediately left.

"What do you need, Clarke? Is there anything I can do to help?" Lexa quickly began, her previous facade disappearing, leaving only genuine concern itching her.

The Commander seemed on the verge of tears.

"Lexa, it's okay," Clarke said softly to her, and the other woman stopped fidgeting and simply stared at her in disbelief.

Silence hung heavy as the two women looked at each other, the weight of emotions evident in each of their eyes.

"I thought I was going to lose you," Lexa finally declared, letting out a trembling sigh and raising her right hand to rub her eyes.

Clarke's heart tightened at the Commander's vulnerability.

"I made you a promise," She said, her blue eyes never leaving Lexa's form.

"You almost broke it, Clarke." Her voice trembled, filled with fear, relief, disbelief, and pain.

The princess slowly reached out her hand, still not used to this. Her fingers wrapped around Lexa's wrist to draw her attention, ignoring her own flinch at the contact.

The brunette's head snapped up to look at her, and Clarke swallowed. "But I'm still here. I won, I'm alive. I'm okay," She reassured, her eyes sinking into the green depths of the Commander's, pleading for her to believe.

Lexa stared at her in silence, still looking at her as if the princess were just a mirage that would disappear if she took her eyes off her.

"Lexa. I'm okay."

The other woman startled, looking at her cautiously. "Really?" She asked, her voice heavy with fear, and Clarke nodded.

"Really," She confirmed after seeing that nodding wouldn't suffice for Lexa and she needed verbal confirmation.

The Commander's shoulders shook, and the next thing Clarke knew, she was enveloped in the vaguely familiar scent of jasmine and forest, along with the strong, comforting arms encircling her figure.

"Clarke," Came a soft murmur in her ears, and the princess finally relaxed, closing her eyes and wrapping her arms as best she could around Lexa. She ignored the burning pain and her trembling limbs, focusing on the warmth in her heart and the divine comfort that this simple embrace brought her.

She needed a hug so much.

"Clarke," Lexa called again, the Commander's hands tracing gentle circles on Clarke's lower back. Clarke shivered before humming.

"You make me weak."

Lexa's words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Clarke slowly opened her eyes, feeling the heat and intensity of the Commander's gaze. The vulnerability of this moment broke through the barriers Lexa had so carefully erected around her heart, revealing a humanity that Clarke knew was always there but rarely shown.

"Lexa..." Clarke murmured, her voice trembling slightly with emotion. She tightened her arms around the Commander, feeling the strength contained in her embrace.

Lexa's breath quickened slightly, her hands continuing to trace gentle circles on Clarke's back, offering silent but powerful comfort. "You are so strong, Clarke. But you make me so weak." The Commander's lips were against her ear, trembling and making Clarke tremble in turn.

The blonde was stunned by the words coming out of the Commander's mouth. She didn't know what to make of it, or if it really had the meaning she thought.

She felt the weight of Lexa's words sink into her very soul, and her heart filled with an emotion so powerful that Clarke thought she was going to burst.

Clarke leaned back in Lexa's arms, enough for their faces to be facing each other. Her eyes went from the Commander's emerald eyes to her full lips, seeing the other woman do the same almost frantically.

"The heart does not incline toward anyone else, the soul does not want another lover, because there can only be one ruler in a city, there cannot be two Commanders," She murmured, a soft smile on her lips. She hoped Lexa would understand.

Lexa heard Clarke's words touching her as if the princess had tattooed them on her skin, each syllable hitting her heart with unexpected force. She felt her breath catch, and her eyes desperately searched Clarke's for confirmation of what she had just heard.

"Clarke..." The Commander murmured, her fingers tensing slightly on Clarke's waist, as if to make sure she wouldn't disappear. "You don't realize what you're saying."

The princess slowly nodded, her gaze still locked with Lexa's. "Yes, Lexa. I realize perfectly."

The Commander closed her eyes for a moment, fighting back the emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. When she opened them again, her pupils were dilated, reflecting rare vulnerability.

"The heart must not incline, Clarke. I cannot afford this weakness."

The blonde could sense Lexa's internal struggle, a battle between duty and feelings that threatened to tear her apart. "Sometimes, strength lies in accepting what we feel," Murmured Clarke, her voice soft but firm. "You've taught me that."

Lexa's hands began to tremble, and she clenched her fists to control them. "Love is weakness," She said in a broken voice, repeating her usual mantra, but this time, the words seemed empty of conviction.

"You know that's not true. That saying is just something to darken hearts, Lexa. It's harsh," Clarke replied pleadingly, raising her hands to stroke the Commander's cheeks, causing the brunette's eyes to flutter.

Lexa closed her eyes under Clarke's touch, savoring the softness of the contact. She felt a fierce struggle within her, between her duty as Commander and her heart as a woman. Finally, she opened her eyes, her emerald orbs shining with determination mixed with emotion. "You think our ways are harsh, but that's how we survive."

Clarke moved closer, closing the distance between their faces, her breath brushing against Lexa's skin. "Maybe life should be about more than just surviving," She murmured, her words heavy with meaning and truth. "Don't we deserve better than that?"

Clarke's words struck Lexa to the core. She felt a shockwave ripple through her being, and her eyes widened under the impact of this simple truth. She opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out. Her eyes remained locked on Clarke's, reading the depth of her feelings, the sincerity of her desire.

"Maybe we do," Lexa finally replied, her voice barely more than a whisper but heavy with significance.

Without warning, Lexa suddenly surged forward, wrapping her hand around the back of Clarke's neck and crushing their lips together.

The princess froze, feeling the soft velvet of Lexa's lips against hers, tender, patient, but full of passion.

Clarke had never done this before, and she never believed she would have the chance to do it. Yet...

Before she knew it, her eyes closed, and her lips moved against Lexa's.

Her whole body was on fire, Lexa's hand massaging her neck.

Done with pretending, Clarke's hand moved up to Lexa's chest, wanting to feel the beats of her heart.

Keryon, Lexa's heartbeat was so fast.

Hers wasn't very different.

Shocked by her boldness, Lexa groaned into her mouth. The sound against her lips resonated in Clarke's heart, and she moaned.

Clarke bit Lexa's lower lip, forcing the other woman to exhale before capturing the top one of the princess.

The scent of jasmine still filled her senses.

Lexa's hand that wasn't on her neck quickly fell to her hip and pulled her closer, as if trying to merge their bodies.

The Commander gently sucked on Clarke's lower lip, eliciting a groan from Clarke. The sound made Lexa want more, she wanted this woman, she needed her.

She gently broke the suction of Clarke's lip with a soft pop, but only to tilt her head and change angles, her nose gently brushing against the princess's in passing. This time, she captured Clarke's lips with twice the vigor and passion.

The princess couldn't help but be embarrassed by her lack of experience, but Lexa didn't seem to care at all. Her lips parted when she felt the Commander's tongue asking for entry, and somehow, the other woman managed to plunder Clarke's mouth in a way that was both gentle and feverish.

Her tongue pushed against Clarke's, and someone moaned into the kiss – it was impossible to tell who, maybe both – and Lexa's hands slid all the way up Clarke's shirt hem to skim the skin. The sudden contact made the princess feel like putty in Lexa's hands, and the other woman visibly felt it in the way a smug smile pressed against the blonde's lips.

Her touch contrasted with her hungry kiss, Lexa's hands caressing Clarke's hips with so much respect, tenderness, caution, and reverence, as if the Spirits had given her a goddess to worship. It elicited a needy moan from the princess's throat.

Their bodies seemed hot, the space between them nonexistent, and the atmosphere was literally scorching. There was this tug in Clarke's lower belly, something the blonde had never felt before.

The way Lexa gripped her hips almost hard enough to bruise as the kiss heated up drove her wild. The Commander held her so possessively, as if she were proclaiming a message on Clarke's skin, saying that she belonged to her.

She wasn't even opposed to belonging to Lexa, and that should have been a warning, but she now knew that the Commander was the best choice to share such an experience with.

This woman was the epitome of all the good qualities in the world.

The brunette suddenly pushed Clarke's back gently but firmly against the bed, never breaking the embrace of their lips. Their tongues battled for dominance, though Lexa easily and naturally prevailed.

The Commander slid her hands down Clarke's body, so deliberately avoiding her wounds despite the passion they were locked in that the princess's heart swelled with affection and something else.

It was so worshipful. It was carnal, yes, sensual, torrid, possessive, but at the same time so tender, affectionate, and worshipful. Lexa adored her with her hands as if Clarke's body were her personal temple.

Lexa licked Clarke's lower lip and nibbled it, leaning on her hands on either side of the princess's head to avoid pressing her body against Clarke's. However, she rolled her hips against Clarke's, and an embarrassing moan burst from the blonde's lips, which were muffled by Lexa's.

The need for air became too great, so the brunette slowed the kiss before stopping it, but she licked Clarke's lips before placing kisses and suckling along her jawline to her neck, her lips lingering on the deliciously swollen vein.

She traced the vein with a wet path with her tongue before descending to Clarke's pulse and sucking and nibbling on it.

"Lexa," Clarke moaned, her hands gripping the Commander's intricate braids as her hips stuttered against Lexa's.

It was as if the moan of her name on Clarke's lips fueled something new in Lexa as she rushed back to crush her lips quickly against the princess's, her tongue wasting no time in entering her mouth, and her hips moving more frantically.

Clarke's response was equally eager, eliciting a groan from Lexa's mouth.

But the moment of passion suddenly stopped as Clarke's body suddenly felt cold.

Her eyes snapped open abruptly, looking at Lexa who had swollen lips and dilated pupils, but who couldn't even meet the princess's gaze.

She swore if the Commander gave her the "love is weakness" speech again, she might as well slit her throat.

"Lexa—" She began in a breathless voice, but the brunette cut her off.

"Clarke," She murmured, her voice hoarse and filled with tenderness, "I'm sorry, I can't do this to you."

Clarke blinked, surprised and confused. "Do this to me?" She asked, trying to keep her voice as flat as possible.

The Commander's head slowly lifted to look at her, and the look of pure desire in her almost black eyes took Clarke's breath away.

But the other woman swallowed, "It's my lack of restraint that brought us here... You're injured, and I..." She couldn't finish her sentence, the pure guilt in her voice and her trembling self-disgust.

The princess's eyes widened, was that what it was about? Lexa had stopped what they were doing because she felt guilty for kissing Clarke while she was severely injured?

Clarke was torn between relief, adoration, and wanting to comfort Lexa. She was glad that the Commander hadn't stopped this because she still believed that love was weakness.

"Hey... Lexa." She reached her left hand up to the brunette's nape, pulling her into a one-armed embrace that elicited a gasp from the Commander.

This woman was such a gentlewoman that she surely thought Clarke was angry with her.

"It's nothing, Lexa. I'm grateful for your consideration, but I admit I hadn't thought of it myself... Don't feel guilty, okay?" She told her gently, her eyes soft and caring.

Lexa looked at her incredulously, as if she couldn't believe that Clarke didn't blame her for dragging her into a moment of... passion when she had just woken up from a 5-day coma induced by mortal wounds.

Her eyes still held guilt, but a glimmer of pure relief shone in those beautiful green eyes.

"I'm sorry, Clarke. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," Murmured Lexa, her voice barely more than a whisper.

The princess shook her head, a slight smile on her lips. "You didn't. I was fully consenting, actually." She added the last part with her smile turning into a smirk, and Lexa's eyes darkened.

Clarke could almost see the gears turning in Lexa's mind as her expression shifted from guilt to surprise, then to a glint of amusem*nt in her emerald eyes.

"You... were consenting?" Lexa repeated, as if she had trouble believing her own ears.

Clarke nodded, a light laugh escaping her lips. "Yes, Lexa. I'm an adult, you know. And I thought it was obvious."

The tension seemed to dissipate slightly in Lexa's shoulders as she absorbed Clarke's words. A shy smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "I suppose so," She murmured.

Clarke let out an inward sigh of relief. She was glad to see that Lexa wasn't carrying the weight of guilt, even though she appreciated the attention and desire she had shown.

The two women looked at each other in silence for a moment, then Lexa broke eye contact, swallowing hard. "I should probably let you rest," She said softly, getting up from the bed.

Clarke nodded, understanding that Lexa needed some space to process everything that had just happened. "Thank you, Lexa. For everything."

The Commander gave her a tender smile, her eyes filled with genuine affection. "I'm just glad you're alive, Clarke. Rest well."

With one last glance, Lexa left the room, leaving Clarke alone with her tumultuous thoughts. She let herself fall back on the bed, the pain from her wounds easing slightly as fatigue washed over her. And as she closed her eyes, a lingering warmth enveloped her heart, fueled by Lexa's reassuring presence by her side.

Clarke was too stubborn to stay in bed, Roan and Lexa learned that the hard way. She didn't stay in that bed for more than two days before deciding it was time to get up, since they were leaving Polis in a week. She knew she would need her strength to fight at the Mountain, which would likely be even more terrifying than the Blood Rite challenge, so she preferred to get out of bed early and start getting back in shape. She had undergone more than one torture and healing session in her young life, so it wasn't as if she was intolerant to pain.

That's why she was currently soaked in sweat after a training session with the Natblida. Her pride was a little wounded to appear so weak in front of a group of children, but then again, these children were extraordinary for their age. Aden was not far from Clarke's level at her tenth winter, even though he was thirteen.

Moreover, they had witnessed her challenge, and she could see in their eyes a pure reverence and admiration that was usually directed only towards their idol - the Commander.

She groaned, finishing a set of push-ups as she felt her abdomen ache abominably with each push-up.

"You should avoid doing abdominal exercises, Clarke," Aden said with a slight movement of his lips beyond his blank facade that she so often assimilated with Lexa. There was amusem*nt in the young novitiate's eyes, but she could discern the concern and admiration that slipped into them.

The boy had become her training partner all day, and he looked so much like Lexa that she had taken a liking to him. He had an unparalleled wisdom for his age and was very talented, not to mention a truly pure heart. They had immediately formed a bond.

She got up with some difficulty, ignoring Aden's hand that wanted to help her. The boy knew she avoided contact but had probably forgotten - she wouldn't hold it against him.

She could see Lexa and Roan at the edge of the field, both watching her with hawk-like eyes as if they were ready to pounce at any sign of discomfort from Clarke, and she rolled her eyes.

She turned to Aden.

"You're right, Aden," Clarke admitted, wiping her forehead with a towel. "I'll avoid abdominal exercises for now."

She gave him a grateful smile, appreciating the fact that he cared about her well-being even though he was much younger than her.

"You're really good, you know?" She added, seeking to return the compliment to show him that she appreciated his presence and support during the training.

Aden lowered his eyes modestly, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. "Thank you, Clarke. It's an honor to train with you."

Clarke nodded, acknowledging the humble response of the young Natblida. She knew he had a lot of potential, and she hoped she could help him realize it while she was in Polis.

She understood why he was Lexa's favorite now.

"I'd like to train with you more often, Aden. If that's okay with you," She added afterwards, and she smiled seeing the joy light up in the boy's eyes.

"M-Me?" He murmured in a small voice, and Clarke's heart swelled with affection. "Of course, anytime!" He added, straightening up, his posture stiff and his chest swelling proudly.

She chuckled softly, then glanced over at Lexa who was watching her with adoration. The brunette's eyes sparkled so much seeing Clarke interact with Aden, but it was also a look that the princess often saw on Lexa every time the blonde entered the Commander's field of vision.

She gave her a breathtaking smile, watching with amusem*nt and affection as Lexa's cheeks flushed.

She ignored her brother who was watching them very suspiciously. There had been tensions between them since she woke up; he had been scolding her and on her case all the time. She could barely sleep without him watching over her, and she was fed up with him treating her like she was made of glass.

After a few more minutes of further discussion with Aden, she turned to the edge of the field where Lexa and Roan were waiting, and waved them over. "Let's go, I think I've had enough exercise for today."

Aden nodded, and together they walked towards the two leaders. Lexa stepped forward to meet Clarke halfway, her expression a mix of pride and concern.

"You should be careful not to overexert yourself, Hainofi," She said softly but firmly. "Your recovery is important."

The princess nodded, acknowledging Lexa's concern for her health. "I'm fine, Heda. I just feel a little rusty after being bedridden for a few days."

Lexa gave her an indulgent smile, but there was still a hint of concern in her eyes. "I'm just glad you're back on your feet," She said sincerely.

There was this kind of secret relationship between them.

Clarke didn't know if it was a relationship, but whatever, they had kissed after all, hadn't they?

Roan also stepped forward, his expression serious. "You're right, Clarke. We need to make sure you're in top shape for the journey to TonDC and the battle awaiting us at the Mountain."

Clarke nodded, recognizing the wisdom in Roan's words. She knew she needed to be ready for what lay ahead, and she was determined to rise to the challenge.

Together, they left the training ground.

Chapter 15: From ice to the sea

Chapter Text

Saying that Raven was having a good day was an understatement. She had never, ever tolerated the cold of Azgeda. She endured it out of habit, yes, but she never truly tolerated it. Now, she is in Polis, feeling the warm rays of the sun.

The Ice Nation was not her home. She never felt at home there. She found much happiness there, yes, but life in Azgeda was more than harsh. Her true home was with Clarke. And Clarke would turn Azgeda into Raven's home in turn when she became queen.

Raven had unwavering faith in her best friend. She knew what the princess was capable of, and she knew from the first glance that one day, Clarke would ascend to the throne one way or another. Her job was to ensure that she did so as quickly as possible and to be there to support her. Not just her, but Roan, Bellamy, Marcus, Wells, Murphy, Echo, Miller, and Harper too. They all formed a great family, they were the most talented group of warriors Azgeda had ever known since the Great Three composed of Marcus, Thelonious, and Pike.

It was generally unsurprising. Wells was Thelonious' son and Bellamy was Marcus' son. Younger generations always surpassed the older ones. As for Clarke, she was the daughter of Haihefa Jek kom Azgeda and Abigeil kom Azgeda. Plus, she had received Marcus' training in addition to Roan's.

She didn't envy Clarke, though, because she had dealt with far too much cruelty to reach such a level. She had been pushed to the limit of human suffering.

Echo herself had a very... confusing past, to lead her to where she was. The choices that brought her here were those of a true cold-blooded spy and assassin. She had always had the shoulders for this role, and Nia had always known it.

Murphy was forged from the same material. He was a stubborn child, originally. He had always been a bit rebellious, but he was also a lucky bastard who found a way to survive in any situation thrown at him, much like Clarke. He had a temperament that was hard to pin down, was a bit rough around the edges, but he was soft inside. Nia had noticed Murphy's potential and had thrown him into Thelonious' arms, who had made him his second.

Miller and Harper were honestly the two weakest links in their team, at least among their high level, but they were extremely talented. Miller's father, David, was a general of a sub-division of Azgeda in times of war and the head of the royal guard full-time. Miller followed the same path initially, but he was better at following orders than giving them. He was an extremely good soldier, and a good asset.

As for Harper, her difficult past had also led her to her level. She always did everything to outdo herself, to survive. Her father died of a very rare disease in Azgeda that Raven hadn't really grasped despite Clarke's explanations. Apparently, Harper's father had been treated by Clarke's mother - although the blonde didn't remember - but when Abby died, he had no one qualified to give him the necessary care and he succumbed too. The fact that Harper was the daughter of one of her late mother's favorite patients led Clarke to want to help the unstable girl.

Harper was also made of tough wood, and Raven preferred not to mess with her after seeing her murder her niron because he was cheating on her.

As for Raven, well... Her story was surely the most complex of their group.

Her jaw clenched at the thought and she looked up from the strange tek she had haggled at the Polis market to look at the sun. She squinted, the light was different from the bright white of Azgeda.

She wasn't born in Azgeda originally. Raven was a clanless child, the daughter of a nomad and a thief. Her mother was addicted to medicinal herbs and stole them from the fisa, dragging Raven into her plans.

Clarke didn't really remember her before their meeting a few years later, but Raven did. She hadn't told her, because she preferred to wait for Clarke to heal first, and she needed to regain her memories from before Abby's death for that.

Raven remembered Abby. She was the woman who had marked her life the most.

She remembered when her mother was in withdrawal, her mind was sick because she couldn't find medicinal herbs and she ended up dragging Raven to the lands of the Ice Nation with the simple explanation that they were going to see someone.

The last thing she expected was to end up in front of her so-called aunt of whom she had never known and her cousin who was a little younger than her. Apparently, her mother was the half-sister of the greatest fisa of the Twelve Clans, but the two women no longer spoke after Raven's mother's addiction started when she was stealing from Abby's supplies. Their story was more complex than that, but her mother was desperate enough to go see her sister to whom she no longer spoke.

Abby had been incredibly kind to Raven, and her meeting with her aunt had marked her. This woman had inspired her, and how many times had she envied her young cousin for having Abby as a mother after her own mother ran away with Raven on her heels having stolen Abby's medicinal herbs.

Raven never saw her aunt again after that, but she certainly saw her cousin during the clan war.

She immediately recognized her, riding a white stallion, her intimidating small silhouette and her harsh features covered in white and black paint, her blue eyes showing no sign of recognition and only tension and mistrust.

Raven didn't know how to tell Clarke that her loyalty lay not only in their friendship and in the fact that the blonde had saved her from her thug life and welcomed her, but in the fact that Clarke was her only family left alive.

"Why do you take such an interest in the tek?" A familiar voice chimed in, and Raven groaned in exasperation, calming her pounding heart.

“Why do you always appear out of nowhere and harass me?” She retorted roughly, turning to the woman who had been at her side since her arrival in Polis. Raven swore this woman wouldn't let her go.

Luna's lips trembled with barely contained laughter as she shrugged, "I'm not harassing you." She replied, moving closer to sit beside Raven.

She fought back a laugh again when Raven comically moved away from her. The brunette's suspicion only fueled Luna's desire to get to know her more.

Raven refocused on the tek in her hands, trying to ignore Luna's presence.

"I'm just curious," the Floukru leader spoke gently. "You seem to find a certain comfort in what you do."

Raven sighed and set the object down beside her. "Tek is logical. It operates by precise rules. Unlike everything else in this damn world."

Luna nodded, her expression serious. "I understand. Sometimes, it's easier to focus on what we can control."

Raven gave her an indescribable look at that but didn't comment. They remained in a strange silence for a moment.

"Don't you have anything else to do than follow me?" Raven sighed with annoyance after seeing that even silence wasn't enough to get Luna to leave.

The redhead raised an eyebrow, her expression impassive.

"Stop looking at me like that," Raven grumbled. This woman was relentless. She wouldn't let go of her boots.

"Like what?" Luna innocently asked, a subtle hint of amusem*nt in her brown orbs.

"Like I'm an alien and you're a superior being who knows everything!" Raven exclaimed, waving her hands in frustration.

"I'm not looking at you like that," The Commander's sister gently refuted, and Raven gave her an incredulous look.

"Like what then?" She asked sarcastically, crossing her arms.

Luna tilted her head slightly, her gaze now filled with peaceful curiosity. "Like someone who has a lot to share, but chooses who to share it with. Like someone who carries a burden but also knows how to let it go."

Raven felt a shiver run down her spine. There was something in Luna's words that deeply touched her, something that resonated with the most secret and vulnerable parts of her being. She looked away, focusing on the tek beside her to mask the emotion threatening to overflow.

"You don't know me," She murmured, almost to herself.

Luna smiled softly. "Perhaps not, but I'm here if you allow me to know you."

Raven remained silent for a moment, letting Luna's words hang in the air between them. Then, slowly, she looked up to meet the Floukru leader's kind gaze.

"Maybe someday," She admitted, her voice barely more than a whisper.

There was a new silence, much more comfortable this time. Raven was perplexed, too lost in what she should think of this woman next to her.

The Natblida glanced at the object that held Raven's interest.

"What is it?" She asked curiously. She wasn't familiar with technology; only the Mountain Men were. Their people harbored resentment towards these objects; they were dangerous and were associated with the Maunon. Luna was no less wary, but she was more curious. However, it surprised her that Raven took an interest in it and seemed to find it useful. Then again, the Azgedans were the least affected by the Maunon; they were all the way north of their lands, and the only Azgedans captured were those on missions near the Mountain.

Raven turned her gaze to the object, a hint of apprehension in her eyes. "It's ancient tek from the Old World," She explained softly. "A communication device. I've read about it in books dating back to before Praimfaya."

She fell silent for a moment, lost in thought before continuing. "It's a kind of link with those who are far away. A connection that transcends distances, that allows you to stay connected, even when everything seems hopeless."

Luna nodded slowly, seeming to absorb every word with attention. "That's impressive," She admitted, her eyes once again settling on the mysterious object. "And you're able to make it work?"

The Azgedan smiled weakly, a mix of pride and nostalgia in her gaze. "Yes, I think I can. It's amazing what you can do with a little know-how and a lot of determination."

She leaned towards the object, her fingers gently brushing its contours, as if silently communicating with it. "I might even be able to make something more... useful out of it."

Luna watched Raven with a mix of respect and intrigue. She knew little about tek, but she could recognize the value of such a skill in this ever-changing world.

"I'd be curious to see what you could do with it," She finally declared, a warm smile stretching her lips. "If you ever need help, don't hesitate to ask."

Raven nodded, grateful for Luna's sincere offer. Perhaps, despite their differences, they could find common ground, a way to work together for the good of all.

"Thank you," She murmured, her fingers once again caressing the surface of the device. "I think I might just need you."

To that, the redhead raised an eyebrow. "Tell me?"

"I think if I can get it to work, we could use it in the war against the Mountain. Think about it; it would be useful to be able to communicate from afar, without being next to each other. I'd just need you to convince the Commander, because I know everyone will be reluctant to use the tek."

Luna listened attentively, taking note of every word spoken by Raven. She understood the importance of this technology in the fight against the Mountain, but she also knew that convincing the Commander would not be an easy task.

"That's a great idea," She agreed, her gaze darkening slightly at the mention of the Commander. "But you're right, Lexa is cautious when it comes to tek. She's wary of its power and the dangers it could pose."

Raven sighed, understanding Lexa's reservations. After all, tek had been responsible for so much harm in the past, including the destruction of Earth by Praimfaya and now the Mountains were using it against them. Convincing Lexa would be a formidable challenge, but Raven was ready to take it on.

"I know it won't be easy, but if we can show Heda how useful this technology can be in our fight against the Mountain, perhaps she can be persuaded," she declared with determination.

Luna nodded, her expression serious. "I'll do my best to help you convince her. Lexa often listens to my advice, but she's also very wary of outsiders and foreign tek. We'll need to find a way to convince her that it's in everyone's best interest," She said thoughtfully.

She raised an eyebrow at Raven's devilish look and mocking smile.

"I can think of someone who would know how to convince Heda if you can't." She said, and the redhead's eyes narrowed.

"Who?" She asked curiously, and the Azgedan brunette gave her an incredulous look.

"What, your sister is parading around like a lost puppy around Clarke and looking at her like she's trying to make love to her with her eyes, and you didn't notice her interest?" Raven declared bluntly, and Luna nearly choked on her own tongue.

Of course, she had noticed, she just didn't think anyone else had.

Again, Lexa wasn't exactly discreet in her heart eyes.

"And the worst part is, Clarke totally reciprocates her heart eyes." Raven added, crossing her arms, torn between suspicion, amusem*nt, and joy. She didn't know if she could really entrust her best friend's - she dared not use the term cousin - heart to the Commander.

Sure, Lexa looked at Clarke like she was a goddess, but Raven knew how leaders could be led to betray their own lover for the sake of their people.

"Do you think the princess could convince Lexa?" Luna asked, her eyebrows furrowing slightly as she considered this possibility. "Is their relationship strong enough to influence my sister's political decisions?"

Again, Lexa had always been a lost puppy in love. When she was with Costia, she was always in the clutches of that natrona and unconscious of her vices; she would have moved the moon for Costia.

But her political decisions? Even Costia never managed to sway Lexa's leadership in any direction, and she had tried. However, Lexa was very good at separating feelings from duty.

Raven shrugged, her eyes still fixed on the distant horizon. "I'm not really sure. Clarke has some influence over Heda, that's obvious. But whether that will be enough to convince her to adopt a more open approach to tek, that's another question."

"We'll try," Luna assured, casting curious glances at the object that held so much power. If a ridiculous little thing could accomplish such great things, she could really see how dangerous it was. Then again, it was proven years ago when Luna was barely three summers old when a missile was launched by the Mountain and destroyed an entire village, leaving no survivors. Tek was a weapon of mass destruction.

"I know what you're thinking, but tek can be as much a good thing as a bad thing. Plus, let's be honest; we'll never defeat the Mountain with our swords and bows. We have to fight fire with fire," Raven declared, giving her a withering look, and the redhead sighed.

"I'm not questioning your reasoning, Reivon. I think you're right, but you can't blame me for being wary."

Keryon,when Luna said her name with this accent.

Raven nodded slowly, perfectly understanding Luna's reservations. After all, tek had caused so much suffering and destruction in the past. But she remained convinced that, used responsibly, it could be a valuable tool in their fight against the Mountain.

"I don't blame you, Luna," she said sincerely. "I know tek can be terrifying, but I also believe in its potential for good. We just have to be careful and not let its power consume us."

Luna nodded slowly, her eyes expressing both admiration and concern. "You're right, Raven. We have to remain vigilant and make sure we use this power to protect our people, not to destroy them."

Raven gave her a grateful smile. "Exactly. We have to keep our ultimate goal in mind: to ensure the safety and survival of our people."

The two women looked at each other for a moment, sharing a moment of silent understanding. Despite their differences, they were united in their determination to protect those they loved and to fight against oppression.

"We will succeed," Luna declared confidently, her voice filled with determination. "Together, we are stronger. The united Kongeda will not be defeated by a single enemy."

Raven nodded, feeling a new hope stirring within her. She was convinced that they could overcome any obstacles in their way as long as the Coalition remained united.

"Do you want to suggest to Clarke to convince the Commander to order her warriors to use tek? Did I hear that right?" Bellamy asked sharply for at least the fourth time.

Raven sighed in frustration; it wasn't going to be easy. If her own friends didn't support her, she didn't know how she would convince the Commander.

"You're crazy," Murphy chimed in, his voice slow and lazy. He knew Raven and wasn't surprised by her wild suggestions.

"Maybe a little," She admitted with an ironic smile. "But think about it, we need every possible advantage in our fight against the Mountain. Tek could be our best chance at survival."

Bellamy crossed his arms, his expression skeptical. "And what if Heda refuses?" He couldn't hide his tone of contempt every time he spat out the title, but everyone ignored it.

Raven shrugged. "Then at least we'll have tried. But I believe in Clarke's ability to influence the Commander. They have a... um, mutual respect, yeah."

Everyone gave her a confused and strange look.

"But what if Heda deems the use of tek too risky?" Echo interjected, her expression serious.

Raven thought for a moment before responding. "Then we'll find another way. But we can't give up before we've even tried."

Murphy shook his head with a sigh. "I don't know why I expected more reasonable answers from you, Raven."

Raven raised an eyebrow at Murphy. "Since when am I known for being reasonable?"

The others burst into laughter, even Bellamy couldn't help but smile. Despite the doubts and challenges ahead, they knew they could count on Raven to always seek bold solutions.

As the laughter subsided and the atmosphere grew serious again, Wells spoke up, his expression serious. "Of course, Raven, but you know Heda is wary when it comes to tek. She might see this as a potential threat to the Coalition."

Raven nodded slowly, acknowledging Wells' legitimate concern. "I understand, little prince. But we have to take risks if we want to win this war. And if we don't try anything, we'll have no chance against the Mountain."

She felt her lips tighten as she saw the irritation tic in the War Chief's son's face at the nickname.

The others nodded, understanding Raven's logic. But they were also aware of the challenges they would face in convincing Lexa to adopt a more open approach to tek.

"And what if Clarke can't convince Heda? What do you do next, Raven?" Murphy asked with his usual frankness.

Echo, ever strategic, then chimed in with a suggestion. "Perhaps we could seek potential allies within the Coalition who might be in favor of using tek. We could use their support to bolster our argument with the Commander."

"That's a good idea, Ice Bitch. We need to work together to persuade Lexa that tek can be a valuable tool in our fight against the Mountain," Raven agreed with a nod, clapping her hands with enthusiasm.

She ignored Echo's murderous gaze.

"But we have to be cautious. We don't want to create division within the Coalition by pushing too hard for the use of tek," Added Bellamy with his usual pragmatism.

"Of course, Bell-boy. We need to be delicate in our approach, but also steadfast in our conviction that tek could be our best chance at survival," Raven conceded.

This time, she didn't hold back her mocking smile as Bellamy scowled.

The others nodded, recognizing the need for a balanced approach. They knew the road ahead would be difficult, but with Raven at the helm, they were ready to face the challenges with determination and resolve. She wasn't known as the brightest mind of the Twelve Clans for nothing.

"So, where do we start?" Harper asked, breaking the silence that had settled in the room.

Raven smiled, feeling excitement building within her. "We start by talking to Clarke. She's our best chance at convincing Heda to make this decision."

When Roan and Anya arrived at the doors of the throne room, he paused and signaled for Anya to stop moving. The guards looked at them perplexedly, but he paid them no mind.

"What?" The other woman demanded grumpily, and he shot her a withering glance.

"Listen," He said, gesturing for her to press her ear against the doors.

The guards shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to make of the situation. Anya's presence made it all the more amusing.

Anya gave him a look of pure judgment. "I don't have time for your games, Ice Prince."

She placed her hand on the handles, about to open the doors, but Roan's grip on her wrists made her freeze. She felt a flush rush to her cheeks at the contact, and she scowled and quickly pushed Roan away.

"Shh! Listen, and you'll see," He insisted, his arm preventing Anya from opening the doors.

She raised an eyebrow, her expression a mixture of irritation and curiosity.

"What are you up to, Roan?" She grumbled, but he raised a finger to silence her and urged her to listen.

He pressed his ear against the massive doors of the throne room again, listening intently. Anya, though reluctant, also leaned in to hear. The guards looked at each other perplexedly, wondering what was going on.

Inside the throne room, Clarke was telling the story of Excalibur to Aden and the other Nightbloods, captivating her audience with fascinating details about the legendary sword.

"Excalibur was a magical sword, forged by the gods themselves," Clarke declared in a voice tinged with mystery. "It was meant to be the blade of the true king, the one who would unite the lands and bring peace to our world."

Roan and Anya exchanged a glance, sharing a mutual impression of curiosity. The blondewasn't sure if she should burst into laughter at the ridiculous image it painted.

The great princess who had defeated 8 highly skilled warriors in a challenge was now telling a story to children with a storyteller's voice.

"And where is Excalibur now?" One of the Nightbloods, whom Anya recognized as Kaelan, asked, hanging on every word of the story.

There was a smile in Clarke's voice as she answered. "Some say it is lost, waiting to be found by one who is worthy to wield it. Others claim it is hidden in a secret place, awaiting its rightful owner."

Anya shook her head with a sigh, finding the story silly. But Roan seemed fascinated, hanging on the princess's words as if he were drinking them in.

The guards, unaware of what was happening inside the throne room, exchanged perplexed looks, wondering if something strange was going on.

Anya straightened up, her gaze fixed on Roan with curiosity. "What are you doing?" She murmured, but he shook his head, his eyes still fixed on the doors.

"Listen," He said quietly. "Clarke is telling a story about Excalibur. It's interesting."

Anya raised an eyebrow, her expression softening slightly. She leaned in again to listen, her frown still faithfully etched on her forehead.

"And what about you, Clarke? Do you believe in the legend of Excalibur?" They heard Aden ask, and Anya's eyes widened as she heard the teasing note in his voice.

Aden was always serious. Even with Lexa. The fact that he was so relaxed with Clarke was an achievement.

Titus would even lose his eyebrows if he knew that.

They listened in silence as Clarke continued her tale.

"Many have tried to pull Excalibur from the stone, but only the worthy could do so," Clarke continued, her voice bright with playful excitement that Anya would never have believed could be heard in the princess's tone. "And it was only when King Arthur came, that he was revealed as the true heir to the throne and the one destined to rule."

When Anya glanced at Roan, he had a soft, melancholic and sad gleam in his eyes, but his lips were painted in a wonderful awestruck smile that contained all the love in the world for his sister.

Anya pursed her lips, thinking about her own relationship with Lexa. The Commander was her former Second, but Anya had loved her with all her heart as if she were her flesh and blood, and that was still the case. Just like Roan for Clarke, she would have hoped for a better life for Lexa.

But her blood marked her destiny, didn't it?

Just like Clarke's blood marked hers as a royal heir.

"What's the moral of this story?" Aden's muffled voice asked, and the two adults could almost imagine the admiring look he was giving Clarke.

"The moral of this story is that the true leader is the one who rises when needed, the one who is willing to sacrifice everything for the good of their people. And sometimes, that leader can be found in the most unlikely places," Clarke's voice had become much more serious than before, her tone aimed at reaching the Natblida.

It was an interesting way to teach.

Roan and Anya exchanged a meaningful look, understanding the hidden message behind Clarke's words. They glanced at each other for a moment, sharing a tacit understanding before turning away from the doors of the throne room.

They decided it was finally time to enter.

Roan pushed open the doors of the throne room, Anya at his side. Clarke and the Nightbloods turned to them, their faces displaying expressions of surprise mixed with curiosity.

Lexa was seated on her throne, silently observing the scene with evident interest. Her gaze was piercing, scrutinizing Roan and Anya with an intensity that made them shiver involuntarily.

"Prince Roan, Anya," Lexa greeted in a calm but authoritative voice. "To what do we owe this unexpected visit?"

Roan took a deep breath, gathering his composure before speaking. "Commander Lexa, I apologize for the interruption, but I have come to fetch my sister. I would like to speak with her."

Clarke, who stood beside Lexa, exchanged a quick glance with the Commander, but Lexa maintained her impassive expression.

The princess, curious, rose and approached them. "What's going on?" She asked, a note of concern in her voice.

"Raven wants to see you," Roan replied, his eyes fixed on Clarke. "It's important, and we need to talk about it in private."

Lexa raised an eyebrow, her gaze shifting from Roan to Clarke. "Raven has something important to say, it seems," She said neutrally, masking any personal curiosity. "Go, Clarke. We will reconvene to discuss Abel's execution later."

Clarke nodded, turning to the Nightbloods with a reassuring smile. "Reflect on what I've told you. Until our next session."

Aden nodded, his eyes full of respect for Clarke. "Yes, Clarke."

Clarke followed Roan out of the throne room, leaving Lexa, Anya, and the Nightbloods behind. They walked in silence through the winding corridors of Polis, the weight of urgency palpable in the air.

They finally arrived outside Raven's quarters, and Roan gently knocked on the door. A few seconds later, the door opened to reveal a visibly agitated Raven, her eyes shining with determination.

"At last," She said, ushering them in quickly. "We need to talk."

Clarke cast a worried glance at Raven. "What's going on, Raven?"

Raven took a deep breath before responding. "I've found something that could change the game in our fight against the Mountain. An ancient tek from the Old World. A communication device."

Clarke furrowed her brow, trying to understand. "How could that help us?"

"Imagine if we could communicate over long distances without having to send messengers," Raven explained passionately. "It would give us a huge strategic advantage."

Clarke nodded, finally understanding the importance of what Raven was saying. "Okay, but why all this secrecy?"

"Because convincing Heda to use tek will be a challenge," Roan replied seriously. "She is wary, and rightfully so. But if we can persuade her that it's for the good of the Coalition, it could tip the scales in our favor."

Clarke sighed, feeling the weight of the task ahead. "Very well. We need to come up with a plan to present this to Heda convincingly. And we need to be prepared to address all her concerns."

Raven nodded, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "We can do this, Clarke. With you to persuade Heda, we have a chance."

Clarke gave her a strange, wary, and slightly defensive look.

"Why do you think I could convince Heda?" She asked, clasping her hands in front of her. She ignored the burning pain in her body to straighten up royally, towering over Raven.

Raven stared back at Clarke, fierce determination in her gaze. "Because you've earned her trust, Clarke. You've proven your worth time and time again. And most importantly, you understand how much this tek could change the game."

"Heda listens to you, Clarke. If you present this argument to her, she'll be more inclined to listen to us," Roan added in a strange tone.

The princess sighed with relief, feeling her shoulders relax. "Alright. We'll need to prepare a strong case. We have to anticipate all of her objections."

The other woman nodded vigorously. "I'll provide you with all the technical information you need. This device can establish a direct link with the other clans. We could coordinate attacks, warn of ambushes, organize supplies... the possibilities are endless."

Roan crossed his arms, his piercing eyes fixed on Clarke. "And we need to be ready to prove that this tek is reliable and secure. Heda won't accept anything that could endanger the Coalition."

Clarke nodded slowly, already formulating arguments in her mind. "We'll do this together. Raven, make sure you get it working; we'll need to prove its usefulness. Roan, make sure we have the support of the other clans. If we can show that we already have convinced allies, it could weigh in our favor."

The two other Azgedans exchanged a smirk at Clarke's commando mode.

Raven smiled, a glimmer of confidence in her eyes. "I'll get right on it. We can do this, Clarke."

"We believe in you, Clarke. We will succeed," Roan said softly to her.

The blonde took a deep breath, feeling the gravity of the situation. "Well then, let's do it. The fate of the war may well depend on what we do in the next few hours."

Chapter 16: New horizons

Chapter Text

Watching the Commander enter a room and capture the entire room’s attention with her charisma, regal air, authority, and grace was always a pleasure for Clarke. This woman had a gift for captivating anyone and anything, from man to beast.

Lexa glanced at her as she walked swiftly yet gracefully along the red carpet of the hall to her wooden throne. Once in position, she raised her hand, and everyone froze.

Clarke smirked.

"Oso hit choda op nat, kom we oso slog thauz gou fou, hez na op hef na wan op." The Commander's piercing gaze swept the room, causing the occupants to shiver and submit. Her voice was unyielding and so cold that just hearing her speak evoked either fear or adoration, or both.

Lexa looked at Clarke, "Hainofi," She began, her gaze devoid of its usual warmth. She was in full Commander mode.

The brunette drew her own dagger from her thigh with a swift motion and handed it to one of her guards, who took it and moved toward Clarke as Lexa continued, "Vengeance is yours."

The princess glanced around, meeting Titus’s impassive but slightly hostile look. She also glanced at Roan, who seemed ready to finish off the man himself, and she took a slight breath.

She stepped decisively toward the guard presenting Lexa's dagger, her attention entirely focused on it.

She missed Lexa’s soft gaze that never left her figure.

Clarke clenched her jaw and delicately took the dagger, turning to Abel, who stared at her like the angel of death.

Which she is.

The general regretted everything. He realized who he had challenged now, pathetically tied to this post in the middle of the Polis throne room and stripped of his clothes. He stared at the woman who had grown up with nothing and whose life had been a fight every minute. The one he had tried to send to a bloody death and who had defied death itself.

"Just kill him already," She heard Raven mutter, and she frowned.

The Boudalan general had never looked so terrified in his life, and it was understandable.

Clarke slowly turned the dagger in her hand, her gaze fixed on Abel. The tension in the room was palpable, everyone holding their breath, suspended in this decisive moment. The silence was so deep that Abel's rapid, trembling breaths could be heard.

"You defied the rules, Abel," Clarke said in a cold but controlled voice. "And you lost. This isn't just about vengeance. It's about justice."

The general, though terrified, tried to regain some dignity. "I thought you would be easy to defeat," He said, his voice trembling slightly. "I thought you were weak."

Clarke took a step forward, her eyes never leaving his. "That's where you were wrong," She replied softly. "You underestimated my will to survive. You underestimated what it truly means to fight for something greater than oneself."

She took another step forward, her icy gaze unbearable for the general, but she didn't care. She could smell the urine seeping into the air and wrinkled her nose. This wasn't the first time her enemies had wet themselves in front of Clarke.

"You didn't just defy the rules." The princess continued, her voice echoing in the silent room, "You also endangered the Coalition's stability and tried to tarnish Azgeda's honor. Your death will serve as a warning to those who dare to do the same."

Abel tried to straighten up, but his bonds and fear kept him immobile. "Hainofi, wait," He pleaded, the panic in his voice betraying his attempt to remain dignified. "I can still be useful. I... I can help strengthen the alliance."

Clarke shook her head, her expression ruthless. "It's too late for that, Abel. Your actions have already sealed your fate."

She slowly raised the dagger, her eyes fixed on the general. Abel closed his eyes, a solitary tear rolling down his cheek. Clarke made a quick, precise motion, plunging the dagger into Abel's heart. He let out a final cry of pain before collapsing, his eyes slowly dimming. Clarke stood still, staring at the lifeless body in front of her, her thoughts swirling in her mind.

The ensuing silence was heavy, almost suffocating. The spectators seemed petrified, not by the execution but by the mere presence of the princess. It was easy to understand why. It had been like this since the fight, and seeing her take another life was all the more terrifying. Lexa, however, observed Clarke with a face mixing pride, admiration, respect, and concern.

Clarke straightened up, calmly wiping the blood from the dagger before handing it back to the guard. "It's done," She said simply, her voice oddly calm despite the violence of the act she had just committed.

Roan stepped towards his sister with a cautious look. "You did what had to be done," He murmured, his gaze expressing a mix of respect and solidarity.

He knew she hated taking a life.

Clarke nodded, taking a deep breath to compose herself. "It's time to move on," She said, turning to Lexa, her eyes reflecting unwavering determination. "We need to focus on what's ahead. The peace and unity of our clans depend on our ability to stay strong and make difficult decisions."

Lexa nodded, rising from her throne to approach Clarke. "You have proven your strength today," She said softly, placing a light hand on Clarke's arm discreetly enough for no one to notice. "We must now use that strength to build a better future for everyone."

Clarke cast one last look at Abel’s slumped figure before turning away.

"What happened is a reminder of our duty to the Coalition. We must all work together, in mutual trust and respect, to build a solid future." The Commander spoke in a strong, clear voice.

Roan stood up as well, showing his support: "Azgeda will stand with the Coalition. We will not allow anyone to threaten it."

The surprised and shocked expressions of the other occupants in the room were a satisfying sight for the Azgedans. The Commander's worst enemy had become her best ally.

And it was all thanks to one person.

Lexa looked at Clarke with pure longing, her fingers itching to grab the princess and marvel at how she had such a woman by her side. Clarke was... she was breathtaking. She always wondered how the blonde had fallen for her.

To say she had no doubts would be false. Clarke came from Azgeda; she was Nia's daughter-in-law, and she had confessed that the only reason the Queen had kept her alive was to make Clarke the Commander's executioner. Especially after Lexa's Ascension.

Clarke was supposed to be Nia's tool, her war machine to bring down the Commander, and Lexa had no doubt she was capable of it. Yet, the princess was so young, not even eighteen summers yet, whereas Lexa was twenty-one.

All it took was for the Commander to look into Clarke's blue eyes and get lost, her heart beating faster than it ever had.

There wasn't that strange gleam like in Costia's eyes that Lexa had deliberately ignored at the time because her love had blinded her.

Clarke's eyes were purely sincere, and they looked at Lexa as if the Commander were the personification of the Spirits come to rescue her. The adoration the blonde showed with just her eyes, along with the trust in her past and body, told Lexa everything.

She still didn't know much about the reason for Clarke's fear of touch, but the reaction the first time Lexa had touched her spoke volumes. She had a sick mind. Sick from touches.

But not with Lexa, not anymore, and knowing the importance and esteem that must mean to Clarke made the Commander want to bows and swear fealty to her right now.

"The meeting is adjourned," The Commander finally declared in a loud voice after emerging from her thoughts. Everyone began to leave except for Clarke and Titus, but she didn't miss the insistent look Roan and Raven sent the princess, and she frowned.

That strange look had been there since Roan came to interrupt their session with the Natblida earlier in the day to take Clarke away, saying Raven wanted to speak to her in private. Lexa didn't want to be suspicious, but it was hard not to be with the Azgedans. Especially when they looked so suspect.

Immediately after the throne room doors closed, Clarke turned to her with a serious look. "Can we talk in private ?" She asked in a respectful but firm voice. She cast an ostensible glance at the Fleimkepa, who bristled.

Lexa blinked, trying to chase away the worry in her chest. She hadn't had a single moment alone with Clarke since their kiss, and it had worried her a lot. She feared the princess would change her mind about them, and not talking about what their kiss and previous declarations meant made her nervous and a little sad.

"I'm not going anywhere," Titus interjected, clasping his hands behind his back, his disgusted gaze sweeping over Clarke.

No matter the strength she had shown in the Blood Rite Challenge, the Flamekeeper would never accept her near Lexa. She was sure he had filled her head with those ridiculous teachings of 'love is weakness', and besides, she was from Azgeda. Of course, he would want her far from the Commander. The episode with Costia must have reinforced Titus’s beliefs, and she didn't want to imagine the kind of 'I told you so' speech he had given after Lexa’s ex's betrayal.

She shot him a dark look and opened her mouth to retort, but Lexa raised her hand.

"Leave us," The brunette commanded in a voice that left no room for protest.

She couldn't help but send the Fleimkepa a victorious look as he clenched his jaw and shot her a hateful glare. He looked ready to jump at her and slit her throat. That idiot wasn’t worth her time.

Once Titus was gone, Lexa’s shoulders immediately relaxed, and Clarke couldn't help but find it adorable.

There was a silence during which the blonde was thoughtful, wondering how to broach the subject and how she could convince Lexa. It wasn’t a small task, their people using tech? The warriors were afraid of it, just like the civilians. How could they not be?

But if Clarke could make Lexa understand the advantage of having technology and using it, it wouldn't be bad. And if Lexa refused to allow her men to use it, then Clarke would order her own to use it.

The Commander grew increasingly nervous with each passing minute of silence during which she watched Clarke lost in thought, and before she could stop herself, she asked;

"Do you regret it?"

She hated the tremble in her voice. How vulnerable she was around the princess. It was like with Costia; she found herself caught in the web of this weakness.

But Clarke was different from Costia, wasn't she?

Comparing the two of them was an offense to the blonde. They were opposites. Clarke was a beautiful person, both outwardly and inwardly, to the point that Lexa considered herself almost lucky to simply breathe the same air as her. Whereas Costia... She was rotten inside. She wasn't that bad, no, but her vices overshadowed her good traits, and her betrayal could not be forgiven. Of course, Costia had fallen in love with the enemy, and Lexa knew better than anyone how uncontrollable love was.

Yet, to the point of betraying her own people?

And Costia had never really loved her, even before falling in love with Ontari. There was a clear difference in her ex's eyes when she looked at her lover and when she looked at Lexa. There was affection for her, yes, even admiration and desire. All kinds of things one might feel for the Commander.

But not for Lexa.

Costia had always used her, long before meeting Nia and Ontari. And that alone served to realize her true nature.

Clarke wasn't like that.

If she was, then Lexa was the most foolish of women and Clarke the best actress among the Twelve Clans.

"What?" The princess asked, astonished. The blonde blinked, not realizing she had zoned out all this time, and the Commander's trembling voice woke her up.

Lexa clenched her jaw, her gaze oscillating between the floor and Clarke’s eyes, which she couldn't seem to hold for more than three seconds.

"The kiss," She clarified, trying to keep her voice as impassive as possible.

She knew she was failing.

Clarke blinked again before Lexa's request hit her full force, making her eyes widen slightly.

“W-What...? No!” She refuted a bit too loudly, her own outburst causing her to blush with embarrassment. But the sincerity was there, and Lexa exhaled a trembling breath, relief visible in her green eyes.

“Then what is it, Clarke?” The Commander questioned, stepping closer to the princess now that she was reassured Clarke did not regret the development of their relationship.

The other woman bit her lower lip, drawing Lexa's darkened gaze to the action.

“I think Raven has found a significant advantage for our war against Maun-de,” She said softly but firmly, looking up at Lexa who instantly became deadly serious.

“What? What are you talking about?” Lexa asked, blinking in surprise but very interested.

“It’s something that would allow us to communicate over long distances, very long distances. Without messengers, and instantly and discreetly. It would enable us to coordinate our movements and warn of enemy arrivals, and perhaps we could even use it for espionage.” The words tumbled out of her mouth a bit too quickly; she was nervous because she knew that after presenting this to Lexa, the other woman would be very interested and enthusiastic, but then there was the nature of this advantage.

She was nervous about the Commander being completely opposed to the idea once Clarke specified that it was tech.

Lexa’s eyes widened like saucers before she eagerly moved closer to Clarke. “What means, Clarke?” Her hands rested on the blonde’s shoulders, as if that would make Clarke's words come out faster.

The princess blinked and bit her lower lip, distracting Lexa without even trying.

“It’s tek, Lexa.” She sighed, and the Commander froze before carefully removing her hands from Clarke’s shoulders and looking at her as if she were an alien.

“No.” She refused categorically, and Clarke’s blue eyes fixed on her with clear protest.

“Don’t tell me ‘no’ when you haven’t even let me finish.” She jabbed her finger into Lexa’s chest to make her point, and the Commander’s emerald eyes focused on the offending finger poking her chest.

“Clar—” She began, but fell silent when Clarke’s finger jabbed her chest again.

Lexa frowned.

“Listen to me. This tek is not a weapon like those the Mountain Men use; it poses no risk to our people. I know tech terrifies our people, and it’s understandable given its use. But it can also be used for purposes other than as a weapon, Lexa! Raven has found small identical devices, they are completely harmless and serve to communicate over long distances. Think of what that could bring to this war; we need to evolve.” She saw the Commander about to refute this and shook her head.

“I’m not asking you to putfayogons in our warriors’ hands, not at all, never. We are not that kind of people. I’m asking you to use what tek we can to our advantage, not let fear dictate our actions and to see beyond that. This device could be a game-changer.” She continued, her voice carrying so much conviction that Lexa hesitated.

Clarke had presented very good arguments, but tech was still tech, harmless or not.

“We have never needed tek to win against an enemy, Clarke. It’s cursed. It’s the cause of Praimfaya, and the Mountain Men terrorize us with it. We will do without, once again, thanks to the largest army that has ever marched among us.” She lifted her chin regally, her refusal clear in her tone.

‘Is she serious?!’ Clarke thought, clenching her jaw. She understood Lexa’s fear, she really did. But this? This was idiocy, naivety, and it was so against what Lexa was. The Commander was letting her fear take over, and it annoyed her.

“Stop blinding yourself and don’t dramatize the matter. Tek is a formidable weapon, but it is more than that. We have never had to fight people who use technology before; it’s normal that we didn’t need to use it. But this is the Mountain we’re talking about, Lexa. And they see us as savages. We can bring as many armies as we want, it’s useless if not only our arrows and swords can’t pierce the Mountain’s doors but also if they annihilate our armies with the press of a button. We need to accept that we have to fight fire with fire, and I’m asking you to accept the use of a simple communication device! Not a fayogon.” Clarke replied with frustration in her tone, stepping into Lexa’s personal space.

Lexa stared at her, frustration mingling with concern in her eyes. Clarke was rarely this passionate and direct, which only heightened the tension between them.

“You don’t understand, Clarke,” Lexa murmured, her tone softer but still resolute. “Tek has always been a source of destruction for our people. It brings only death.”

Clarke took a deep breath, trying to calm her agitation. “I understand your fear, Lexa. I really do. But I’m asking you to see beyond that fear. We have a chance here, a chance to tip the scales in our favor. This war is not like the others. If we stay stuck in our old ways, we will lose.”

Lexa clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. Clarke was right, but admitting that meant challenging centuries of deeply ingrained traditions and beliefs. However, she couldn’t deny the truth in Clarke’s words.

“Show me this device,” Lexa finally said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Clarke felt an enormous weight lift from her shoulders. “Come,” She said softly, extending her hand towards Lexa. “I’ll show you.”

Lexa hesitated for a moment before taking Clarke’s hand, feeling the warmth and strength emanating from that simple contact. Together, they left the throne room and headed towards Raven’s quarters where the Azgeda waited for the princess.

Raven looked up from her work when they entered, her eyebrows raising at the sight of Lexa. "Ah, Commander," She said, a glint of amusem*nt in her eyes. "I guess Clarke managed to convince you to take a look."

Lexa nodded, her eyes shifting from Clarke to Raven. "Show me what you’ve found," She ordered, trying to conceal her skepticism.

Raven approached a table covered with items she had bartered for at the Polis market, all devices that Lexa had never seen before. She picked up a small device and handed it to Lexa. "This is a portable radio. It allows for instant communication over long distances. Imagine what that could mean for our troops."

The Commander took the radio, looking at it warily. She turned the device over in her hands, trying to understand how something so small could have such a big impact.

"I know it seems strange and frightening," Raven continued. "But it’s simple technology, easy to use and extremely effective. With this, we could coordinate our attacks, prevent ambushes, and react more quickly to enemy movements."

Clarke watched Lexa, looking for signs of acceptance or rejection. The Commander remained silent for a long moment, her thoughts swirling.

Finally, she looked up, meeting Clarke's gaze. "We will try it," She declared firmly. "But we will do so with caution. We must ensure it doesn’t backfire on us."

The blonde smiled, a feeling of relief and gratitude washing over her. "Thank you, Heda. You won’t regret it."

Lexa nodded, her eyes fixed on Clarke. "For our people," She murmured, silently vowing to do everything to protect those she loved. "We will do what it takes to win this war."

Raven exchanged a knowing look with the princess. They had taken an important step toward victory, and with Heda by their side, they knew nothing was impossible.

"You didn't need my help, apparently," was the first thing Luna said to her as Raven found herself watching the sunset, still working on the various objects she had found. The advantage of having a thief for a mother was finding things like this; old tech dating back to before Praimfaya and collecting them if no value could be found. Raven had always found a strange familiarity in them, the power these little things held made her passionate.

She glanced at the redhead, watching for a half-second too long how the sunset light illuminated Luna's features.

She was breathtaking.

Not that Raven hadn't noticed before, she was just too stubborn to admit it. Normally, she had no problem 'courting' anyone she was interested in, but this was different. This woman was the sister of the Commander, her enemy by default, even if the Coalition softened those terms. Plus, one look at the Floukru leader and the Azgedan brunette knew she was different; too intriguing to remain a casual fling. It was better to avoid such women when you could never truly have them.

"I told you Clarke could convince her," She said simply, stubbornly lowering her eyes back to what she was doing rather than maintaining the far too intense eye contact with Luna.

The older woman looked at her in silence for a while. "Her influence on my sister is dangerous."

It was a statement that implied many things. Distrust, suspicion at its core.

It was a warning, a glimpse into the complexity of alliances and possible betrayals. She knew Luna wasn't wrong. Clarke could be persuasive, but her influence often came at a cost.

Raven took a deep breath, lifting her eyes from her work to confront Luna. "Clarke does what she must to protect our people. Sometimes, that means making tough decisions."

Luna raised an eyebrow, a slight sarcastic smile playing on her lips. "Tough decisions? Like making deals with the enemy?" Her voice was calm but sharp.

The Azgedan felt her anger rise quickly.

She clenched her fists, trying to stay calm. "Do you think it's easy for us? Every decision Clarke makes, she does to avoid unnecessary deaths. Yes, sometimes that means working with those we'd rather avoid. But it's not betrayal, it's survival."

The Nightblood didn't lose her sarcastic smile, her eyes gleaming with a mischievous light. "Survival, huh? She seems very good at getting close to those she thinks she can use. After all, she doesn’t just work with Lexa, does she?"

The remark hit Raven like an electric shock. She clenched her teeth, feeling a wave of anger, the need to protect, and frustration rise within her. "It's not just a matter of politics," She replied in a hard voice. "Heda and Clarke have a connection. It's real. Clarke wouldn’t bother trying to develop their relationship otherwise."

Luna crossed her arms, leaning her head slightly forward. "Maybe. But it doesn't change the fact that the princess is doing more than just working with Lexa. Their relationship is intense, isn’t it?"

She didn't understand why Luna was now reproaching Clarke for these things through her. It was as if she were transforming. Of course, she understood the need to protect her sister from a destructive love, especially from an Azgedan, but that didn’t give her the right to insinuate such things.

The Azgedan stood up and approached the redhead like a lion about to pounce. "Yes, it’s intense. But that doesn’t mean she intends to manipulate Lexa. Their bond is authentic," She growled, coming to the defense of the person who mattered most to her.

Luna raised an eyebrow, her scrutinizing gaze unwavering. "You’re still so convinced of her purity, even after seeing her tear through eight top-level warriors and paint the combat arena red?"

"Yes. Clarke would do anything to survive. But that doesn’t mean she likes having blood on her hands."

The older woman approached slowly, her piercing gaze fixed on the Azgedan. "And you, Reivon? Are you ready to do anything for your survival? Even sacrifice your principles?"

The question hung in the heavy dusk air. Raven felt a weight descend on her shoulders. She had always been pragmatic, but Luna was pushing her to think more deeply, to question her own choices.

"I won’t sacrifice my principles," She said finally, in a firm voice. "But I will do everything in my power to protect those I love."

Luna nodded gently, her expression softening slightly. "That's the challenge, isn’t it? Finding the balance between what we must do and what we are willing to do."

A contemplative silence settled between them, only interrupted by the distant murmur of the waves. Raven found herself appreciating this moment of shared tranquility, despite the underlying tension.

"You know," Luna resumed after a moment, "there’s another way to look at it. We don’t have to choose between our principles and our survival. Sometimes, real strength lies in our ability to stay true to ourselves, even in the worst moments."

The brunette nodded slowly. "Maybe you’re right. But it doesn’t make things any easier."

"No," Luna admitted, "but it can give us inner peace. And sometimes, that’s all we need to keep going."

They exchanged a look full of mutual understanding, a fragile bridge of respect and curiosity forming between them. Maybe, Raven thought, there was more to discover about Luna than she had initially assumed. Maybe there really was a chance to find an ally, or even more.

"So, do you still think we can find a way to work together?" Raven asked, hoping for a sign of openness.

The redhead smiled slightly, a glint of challenge in her eyes. "Maybe. But it won’t be easy."

Raven relaxed, a smile spreading across her lips. "I’ve never liked things easy anyway."

The sunset grew more intense, enveloping the two women in golden light. Night was approaching, but for Raven and Luna, it might be the beginning of something new, something potentially powerful and transformative.