The 100 belongs to Cass Morgan, the CW, Jason Rothenberg and who knows who else.
Ontari held Clarke on the table and let her dark blood run freely over Clarke's face. She felt fortunate that Nia still wanted to taunt Lexa. Otherwise, it would be her blood running red across Nia's table. Clarke thought it wouldn't bother the Azgeda queen much.
She ran to Lexa, as Nia knew she would, and begged Lexa to reconsider her fight to the death with Roan. Clarke wasn't sure what she hated more: that Lexa was able to be completely closed to her, or that she was willing to accept her death, knowing what it would mean to every clan under the coalition.
Clarke's lack of faith in Lexa's ability hurt her. She understood emotionally what Clarke was trying to say. Lexa pledged herself to Clarke what felt like seconds ago, and she knew Clarke felt as if Lexa was renouncing those words. She also knew that she would not lose this fight. She was the commander, and her fight was not yet over.
There wasn't time for Clarke to reach Roan, but she figured he all ready knew that she failed. She went to her quarters to wash her face. When the blood was gone, Clarke paced. She didn't want to watch Lexa die, but she couldn't stay up here and wait to be arrested should Lexa lose. Indecision tore at her, and her heart lead her down to the plaza.
Even with her head covered, the citizens of Polis recognized Wanheda and were quick to make room for her to pass. She arrived in time to hear Titus start the fight. Roan waited while Lexa and Clarke spoke, and then there was a flurry of action. Roan was driven toward Clarke and acknowledged her before returning his attention to Lexa.
Clarke didn't have time to wonder about it. Black leather and sharp blades were everywhere, and blood soon followed. She stopped breathing when Lexa lay seemingly defenseless on the ground, and inhaled with the crowd when she avoided Roan's spear.
Lexa was quicker than he was, and completely fearless. Blood meant nothing. She had no major injuries. She broke Roan's nose and the lower half of his face was bloody. When Lexa took him to the ground, Nia denounced her son.
Lexa waited for him to give the signal. As much as she despised Nia, she would not kill her in front of him unless it was his wish.
"End it quickly," Roan said.
Lexa brought the spear up and launched it at Nia. It hit her just below her sternum, passed through and pinned her dying body to the chair. "The queen is dead," Lexa announced. "Long live the king!"
The crowd erupted. Most chanted, "Heda." A few cheered for Roan.
Both combatants left the field with their advisers. Clarke watched them with narrowed eyes.
100 - 100 -100
That evening, when Clarke was nearly ready to turn in, there was a knock on her door. She opened it to see Lexa. She was clean and dressed in her own sleepwear, her hair loose on her shoulder.
"Is this 'I told you so'?" Clarke asked.
"This is thank you."
"Come in," Clarke invited and stepped aside. She saw the blood on the bandage covering Lexa's palm, and told Lexa to sit so she could replace it.
While Clarke wrapped her hand, she told Lexa, "I'm not your pawn."
Lexa feigned ignorance, but Clarke knew better.
"You could have told me."
"You are a terrible liar, Clarke. Your heart leads you."
"You never minded that before."
Lexa smiled. She was careful to keep it small. Her lip was bruised and tender. "I minded many times."
"Well, you can mind it all the way back to your bed."
"You would turn me out? I am injured."
Clarke seemed to mull Lexa's request. "How did you know Nia wouldn't just kill me?"
"Nia lived to inflict pain. As long as it was possible for any outcome except the one she desired, she could not risk angering the coalition."
"So you gambled with my life."
"It was not a gamble," Lexa said firmly. "And you returned with useful information." Lexa reached across Clarke to pick up the fabric Clarke tore her bandage from. She pulled a strip free and turned Clarke's right palm up. "Your bandage needs to be changed, as well."
"I'm mad at you, Lexa. Don't try to distract me."
Lexa ignored her. She removed the bandage from Clarke's hand and inspected the cut across Clarke's palm. It was covered in salve to help it heal, so she wrapped the bandage around Clarke's hand and tucked the end to keep it in place. "Are you mad at Roan, as well?"
"Yes. I have a few things to say to him, too."
"He is gone. Perhaps you will meet him again."
"He better be wearing a cup," Clarke muttered.
Lexa looked at her, not understanding. Clarke didn't explain. They sat silently for a few minutes. Lexa continued to hold Clarke's injured right hand with her unhurt left, gently pressing her bandaged palm against Clarke's.
"We hoped for success and planned for failure. It would have been better if Wanheda succeeded, but only two people know of your failure."
"What will happen to Ontari?"
"I do not know. She will stay in Azgeda lands until the conclave after my death." Lexa looked pensive for a few moments. "I hope Aden is next to ascend. I worry that Ontari will look only for war."
"Do you ever talk about anything except your death?" Clarke asked, exasperated.
Lexa's smile was genuine this time, the discomfort of her lip forgotten. "I will speak of anything you want in bed."
"I'm still mad at you," Clarke pouted. "But you are hurt, so fine, you can stay."
"I am injured." Lexa stood and tugged Clarke to her feet. She startled Clarke when she easily lifted her. "I would be hurt if you turned me away. You can be angry at me tomorrow."
"I will be," Clarke murmured and draped her arms around Lexa's neck.
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