The ride back to Polis is quiet, both women lost in their own thoughts. Clarke's mind is back in Arcadia. She is still trying to process everything that had happened. She can't believe that it was just 24 hours ago that they had been on their way, the Ice Queen's body in tow, bringing an offering of peace to her people. Her people who had, in the meantime, elected Pike chancellor and slaughtered an army of innocents sent to protect them. She barely wanted to call them her people anymore. But they were. She couldn't run from that. As angry and hurt as she was, she didn't want them dead. She wanted what she had always wanted: a better life. They had been so close to that. But Pike and Bellamy had ruined it.

Bellamy. Just thinking about him brought fresh tears to her eyes. What happened? He was obviously hurting more than she had known. But to side with Pike? To kill 300 people who he knew were there to help? How could he do this? He didn't really believe that all grounders were like the Ice Nation; he couldn't. Not after Lincoln and Indra, not after Octavia. Not after the Coalition, after Clarke bowed and Kane took the brand. Didn't he trust her at all?

She swallowed hard. No. He didn't. That much was clear.

She glanced over at Lexa. It was hard not to compare her conversation with Bellamy with her conversation with Lexa. Bellamy had hurt her deeply, twisting the knife is a way that only someone who knew her well could do. But Lexa had made her feel validated and safe. She felt like she was part of a team with Lexa. There was always a small nagging fear when she let herself feel like this. She had started to feel like this before, and Lexa had left her. But she was beginning to understand that decision. Especially now. As she stood in front of Lexa and begged for peace, she knew that she was going to convince her. Because she was appealing to the person who had walked away from Mount Weather, knowing that the hard decision would mean safety for her people. And she had sworn loyalty to Clarke. She had sworn that Clarke's people were her people. And even though some faction of Skaikru were rejecting the Coalition, Clarke trusted that as long as Clarke claimed Skaikru as her people, Lexa would too.

"Clarke? Are you alright?"

Clarke started. She had been staring directly at Lexa from her horse for who knew how long. She nodded quickly and faced ahead. They didn't speak again until they arrived back at Polis. Lexa dismounts and gazes around the city. Clarke can almost see her thinking of her 300 warriors who would never return. She turns to face Clarke.

"I will assemble the ambassadors tonight for a summit. Your attendance will be required, though it may not be pleasant."

Clarke nods, and Lexa continues. 'Faro will take you to your quarters." She gestures at a man hovering nearby.

Clarke's heart sinks at the thought of going back to her room alone, but she nods again. Lexa turns to leave, and Clarke's eyes follow her until she disappears into the tower. She looks over at the man still standing helpfully at her side and sighs. They walk together into the tower and make their way to the lift. He greets the guards and the lift begins to rise. They stop on Clarke's floor and he steps out, but Clarke doesn't move. She clears her throat hesitantly.

"Um. Actually. I'd like to go to Le - uh, the Commander's quarters. I need to speak with her."

Clarke thinks she detects the hint of a smirk on Faro's face as he nods to the guards, the door closing again.

Now, Clarke is standing outside Lexa's door, trying to convince herself to knock.

Come on, Griffin. Lift your hand. Knock on the door. What's the worst that could happen?

She glances over her shoulder at the two guards standing outside the lift. They quickly avert their eyes, exchanging subtle glances with each other. Clarke huffs. This was ridiculous. She quickly raps her knuckles on the door and inhales, taking a quick step backwards.

She hears shuffling from inside and then Lexa appears, opening the door just a crack at first, but wider when she sees Clarke. She is still in her riding gear, but her hair is down now, soft and flowing. Her face is scrubbed clean, and she looks younger than usual. Her eyes are wide.

"Clarke. Are you alright?"

Clarke nods quickly, not wanted Lexa to worry. "I'm fine, I just…can I come in?"

Lexa takes a step back and allows Clarke to enter. She stares as Clarke shuts the door behind her and turns.

"I just didn't want to be alone."

Lexa nods. She understands.

She walks back to the couch, sitting and grabbing her book again. Clarke takes a moment to wander the room, taking in all of Lexa's things. She stares out the windows at the view for a minute before she settles into the chair across from Lexa. Hands in her lap, she fidgets. She forces herself to remain quiet, not wanting to bother Lexa. After a minute, Lexa sits up quickly. Clarke's eyes follow her as she walks over to bookshelf on the wall. She grabs a pad and a set of charcoal and hands them to Clarke.

"In case you wanted to draw something."

Clarke stares at Lexa for a moment before her eyes start to fill with tears and she looks down. "Thank you," she responds quietly.

Lexa sits down again and starts to read. Clarke rolls the charcoal around in her hand, getting used to how it feels again. She hasn't sketched anything since they got to the ground, not really. Maps and diagrams. But nothing that really meant anything to her. She thinks about her cell on the Ark. Picture after picture of the ground, of the plants, the buildings, the history. All she dreamed of every night was life on the ground, of freedom. But what was it really like on the ground? Death, and pain. Destruction. Betrayal. Armies and war.

She closes her eyes, trying to picture the view of the forest that first day on the ground. She sees the forest, greener than she had ever been able to imagine. She sees flowers for the first time. She sees her first glimpse of a lake, of a mountain. She starts to shake her head as her mind clouds with other visions: Octavia, being pulled under water by a beast. Jasper, being speared. Mercy-killing Atom. Watching Bellamy torture Lincoln. Wells' body. Charlotte, jumping off the cliff.

She forces her eyes open, trying to clear the images from her mind. They land on Lexa, sprawled on the couch. She smiles as everything else disappears. Yes, there is pain on the ground. There is pain everywhere. But there is also beauty.

Lexa is clearly exhausted. Her eyes are still open, but drooping. The book is hanging lightly from her fingertips, no longer being read. Clarke watches as her chin drops to her chest before she twitches, jerking it upright.

"Lexa. Why don't you sleep?"

Lexa's eyes shoot open and meet Clarke's. "I'm fine."

"You're exhausted. It's okay."

She shakes her head. "I don't want you to think I don't appreciate your presence. It is…the opposite of that."

Clarke nods. She understands.

Despite her best efforts, Lexa is losing the battle to stay awake, and Clarke watches as her head tilts, her cheek resting on her shoulder, eyes closing as her breathing steadies out. Almost without thinking, her hand starts moving, slowly and carefully tracing the line of Lexa's cheek on the paper. Everything else slips away as she carves out Lexa's jaw, as she uses charcoal to sketch out details of Lexa's face that she has never been able to concentrate on. She uses her finger to smudge Lexa's top lip, adding shading, wishing while she is doing it that she were touching the real thing. She isn't sure how much time passes as she sits, staring at Lexa, trying to capture her on paper in black and white. She realizes that this is the first time she has ever drawn from life. She's always drawn ideas, dreams from pictures. This is the first time that she's found something right in front of her that is worth saving.

Lexa wakes abruptly, her book crashing to the floor as she sits straight up, gasping. Clarke reaches for her, kneels next to the couch, grabs her arm.

"Leksa," she whispers. "yu laik klir."