Shaken Hands
Lexa glanced at her blade, her armour, the dried blood on her face. The looking glass caught her eye. She saw her cracked lip, and the dirt that clung like tar. She limped away from it, before slowly peeling off her cloak. Her movements slow, deliberate, pained.
Shrugging it off the cloak, she clumsily stepped out of her shoes. Undressing took to much. The hiss that escaped her lips hit her like a freight train. Stumbling, she slipped into the bath, allowing her eyes to close. The ache left her limbs, but the pain twitched with every breath she took.
Clarke, the little Skygirl, had warred with her people. They killed thousands of them, using 'technology'. Lexa's strategy was in ruin, her people used swords. They were not prepared for guns. That's how thousands of these Skyrats claimed their land.
The Trikru had them sieged in their scraps of metal. A satellite according to their prisoners. It came from the sky. That sounded ridiculous, but so did these people.
There was once another group that had guns. Mt. Weather. They'd been eradicated by Ice Nation decades ago...it had been the only time the Trikru had worked with them. Too many of both their people had been sacrificed, so an uneasy partnership grew. From that came a weak truce that still stood today. It was better than war, but still, their bloodied history...it wouldn't be forgotten.
Lexa's mother had ruled Trikru, worked with Nia of the Ice Nation to rid the world of Mt. Weather.
Now guns were here again, on her land, threatening her people. She'd rid the threat, even if it meant killing everyone of those 'Skaikru' filth.
A/N: Hope you liked it, not sure if I'll continue it. It's probably a drabble, but I hope you liked it :)
