"You summon me at a questionable hour, Commander," Roan inquired, slowly rising from his bow in Lexa's direction, eyes diverting to an observing Clarke poised a few feet from her throne, "as if I have a choice in the matter."

"One always has a choice, Prince of Azgeda." Lexa raised an eyebrow, lips tight and reserved as her eyes roamed over the sharp blade in her hand, metal glistening against the weaning moonlight. "You are simply unfortunate to continuously stumble upon the wrong ones."

Clarke smirked at the boisterous comment, posture still unyielding, urging a snarl from the confused warrior.

"And what wrongful turn have I unwillingly found myself treading this time?" He wondered, patience thinning.

"I have a proposition for you." Lexa spoke, plunging the blade into the wooden armrest of her throne. "A proposition that I believe you will not be able to decline."

Roan perked up at the mention of a deal; at the delirious ensembles of jumbled promises that invaded his mind. "I'm listening."

Lexa's gaze traveled to where Clarke stood in statue-like discipline; her presence momentary forgotten by the prince. She nodded once to the blonde as their eyes met, and Roan unconsciously pondered what message was transmitted there, but the thought soon evaporated as Clarke stepped forward, pausing only a few inches before the prince.

Lexa watched curiously as Roan cautiously scrutinized Clarke's close proximity, breath slightly hitching as his eyes scanned the length of her body. "I am not ignorant of your desires for Clarke."

The statement immediately regained his attention. His eyes snapped forward once again, locking with the steeled green that lay hooded under a shadow of paint. "Blasphemy!" His anger was spilling forth, raging from just beneath his lungs. "I have NEVER-"

"I am not accusing you of any crime, Prince." Lexa comforted him, tone gentle yet menacing, a skill frequently used by the Commander to transmit subtle reign over her questionable subjects. "It is merely an observation of your rather obvious yearning whenever she's in your presence." His nostrils flared either in fear or anger, Lexa wasn't sure which. "Be at ease. Clarke shares your same sentiments. It would seem she equally… craves you."

His gaze shifted to Clarke, who grinned bashfully up at him, fully aware of his increased discomfort. She bit her lower lip teasingly, eyes absorbing the Prince's form fully, gaze lingering on the very curious swell suddenly more apparent in between his thighs.

"She's at your mercy for the night." Lexa finalized, causing the prince to clench his jaw and eyes to widen in disbelief at the Commander's baffling proposition. Clarke confirmed the proposition was not a temporary moment of insanity by dragging her tongue across her lips, unshaken by her lover's bargain.

"And at what cost, might I ask?" He pressed, more curious than serious at the moment; fully prepared to defy whatever possessed spirit dwelled in the Commander.

"Consider this a gesture of goodwill, if you may." She explained. "However, make no error here, Prince. This exchange is solely for Clarke's benefit, not yours. Although I'm certain you will correspondingly gain from it as well."

Roan looked upon the flirtatious blonde with ravenous eyes. Clarke smirked, taunting him into action.

"What gives you pause, Prince Roan?" Lexa inquired, tone strict and condemning. "Are you refusing my offer?"

"How am I to be certain this is not some hoax?" He questioned, tone equally harsh, eyes briefly leaving Clarke to challenge the Commander. "She is your woman. Yet now you surrender her as a gift to an enemy? I have my reasons for concern."

"It is not a trick, Roan." Lexa confirmed. "This arrangement is Clarke's wishes. Her request. You have my word that no ill will befall you from accepting."

Roan glanced back towards the blonde. Clarke stood in the center of the room, posture still confident and regal, eyes fixed on the Prince, secretly challenging him to engage. She grinned seductively at him as they locked eyes once again. "The Commander speaks true, Roan." She spoke softly, finally breaking her silence after the tense engagement. "This was my idea. A show of good faith between our warring people."

He scoffed. "You offering to warm my bed for a night is how you plan on achieving that?" He mocked, eyes now equally flirtatious. "My freedom would have been enough to quell the war."

"And we would have lost our leverage against the Ice Nation had we done that." Clarke replied, a smile suddenly reforming on her thin lips. "You can either accept my offer or return to your cell. The choice is yours."

Roan remained silent and still; gauging his surroundings. He looked from the blonde to her Commander, searching for any signs of deception; any falter in their stoic expressions would have satisfied his instinct to decline. Yet he received no indication from either woman.

"I have your word?" He relented a little, looking to Lexa as he spoke.

"You have my word." She nodded once in confirmation.

He looked back to the eerily calm blonde, quickly returning his gaze to Lexa once more. "It is not in my nature to be gentle." He spoke huskily, urging a sharp exhale out of Clarke who fully grasped his meaning.

Lexa stiffened in her seat, tightening her grasp on the wooden hilt of her dagger. "We expect nothing less from an Ice Nation Prince." She responded, tone indifferent, mask intact and unwavering. "You are free to advance as you wish. I have only one request." She paused. Roan lifted a single brow in her direction, pressing her to continue. "You will take her in my presence."

That statement elicited a smirk out of the Prince. "You wish to watch." Roan confirmed, eyes suddenly heavy with passion. "Are you certain you wish to witness as I ravage your sky whore?" The assertion was bold and defiant, that much he knew. Yet he could not resist the urge to prompt; to elicit a reaction from the stone-faced woman whose eyes bore through him and into his soul.

It had a semi-desired effect, causing a needy whimper to fall from Clarke's lips, revealing just how impatient she was. Lexa however, simply shifted uncomfortably in her throne, expressionless, as if the gods themselves sculpted the scold she adorned as a guise. "The only thing I'm currently witnessing is your incredible lack of action."

That was all the encouragement he needed. Roan moved forward, rounding Clarke, eyes absorbing every curve and exposed skin selflessly conceded to him. She wore a dress weaved out of dark silk, which complemented the fine jewels draped around her neck and wrists. The ornaments served as a demonstration of superiority and power, endowed on her by Lexa, and it equally served as a warning to inquiring eyes as to whom was currently bedding Clarke.

Standing before the blonde once more, he met her gaze with curiosity, receiving a look that quickly transformed into an inaudible dare. He placed a hand on either side of her hips and spun her, observing as the two women made eye contact before continuing with a chaste kiss against her exposed shoulder. Clarke sighed in relief, the sensation of being touched quickly overwhelming her.

Roan allowed his hands to move more aggressively over the curvaceous form, groping and grabbing every inch of skin his fingers could latch onto. He observed Lexa's reaction when he squeezed Clarke's tender breasts through the dress, earning a moan from the blonde and a gulp from the attentive brunette. He smirked.

"Would you like to join, Heda?" He questioned, tone low and mischievous, head tilting slightly to the side. "There's no shame in also enjoying the company of men from time to time."

"Careful, Roan." She replied, eyes still glued to Clarke, who had her head thrown back against Roan's shoulder, jaw wide open in silent moans as his hands massaged the perky mounds. "You'd be wise to remember who is in charge here."

He bowed in a playful show of respect, and moved his attention back to the blonde. He slipped the thin straps from Clarke's shoulders and allowed the material to fall around her ankles, immediately leaving Clarke fully bare and exposed to Lexa's possessive stares and Roan's exploring hands.

He wasted no time after that. Weaving a hand through her golden braids, he tugged her head further back towards him, snaking his other hand down her toned stomach, through the wild, moist patch of fuzz in between her thighs, and parted her folds with two fingers. He ran his palm over the drenched slit, causing Clarke's hips to buck and a moan to escape her throat.

"Good girl." He rasped into her ear, loud enough to ensure Lexa also heard. "You're ready for me."

Lexa remained silent and still, watching the scene before her. True, she had been preparing herself mentally for this moment, since she first heard it be uttered from the soft lips she was so addicted to. Yet the countless images she had mashed up in her restless mind were exceedingly mild compared to this. Just the manner in which he looked upon Clarke, with greedy and dangerous eyes as if apologizing for the pain he was about to inflict on her body, was enough reason to have him executed by a thousand cuts; and that would be a mercy considering how he's touching her now. Lexa felt as bile and rage simmered within the pit of her stomach; a fury so intense she believed capable of spitting fire and torching the man alive. The impulse to hurl her blade into the bastard's eye was a temptation she commanded herself to stiffen, suppressing the growing surge that clashed over her with every movement of his hands against the porcelain skin that belonged to her. The lips he currently nibbled on, the flesh he squeezed and marked, the surely sopping cunt he roughly rubbed, were all reserved for her and her only, yet the prince seized it as if it was a birthright. Years of commanding and training temporarily held her weakening façade intact, forcing herself to remain as cold and rigid as the blade she dotingly caressed.

"Roan…" Clarke moaned out, lips trembling in need as she spoke. "Stop teasing!"

He ignored her, fingers moving faster around the sensitive nub, feeling more and more wetness pool around the clenching entrance. "Roan!" Clarke pressed, frustrated to the point of anger. "I swear if y-"

Without warning, he pushed two fingers through the tight channel, relishing how the slick walls hungrily engulfed his digits. Clarke felt every muscle in her body constrict, toes curling into the furs below and arms wrapping backwards around Roan's neck. "Fuck!" She yelped, the unexpected invasion shooting a bolt of pain through her body. "Shit!" She continued shouting profanities as the pain began to dissipate into pleasure, her body slowly adjusting to fingers exponentially larger than the slender, gentler ones she was used to. Roan continued crudely plunging into the blonde, eyes shifting form Clarke to Lexa from time to time, forcing himself to bite his tongue at the opportunity to goad the Commander.

"She's pretty good at taking it." He addressed Lexa, unable to dismiss the chance to boast. "You've trained her well. I wonder if she's just as good on her knees…"

"She will NOT kneel for you! Try it and I will end your miserable fight!" She snarled at him, body coiled and ready to spring forward.

He responded with a forceful thrust that resulted in a guttural moan out of Clarke, quickly silencing the heated commander. Roan merely smirked and continued his ministrations. Incapable of containing his own desire any longer, he removed his fingers from her warmth, aweing at the glistening wetness that coated his hand down to his wrist. He had Lexa's full attention then, gaze fixed on his hand, as he painted the evidence of Clarke's pleasure across her whimpering lips.

"Suck it clean, Princess." He ordered, fingers pressing into her mouth. She quickly obeyed, wrapping her lips around the digits, lapping up at her own sweetness. He watched as Lexa's own lips parted slightly in want; in need to taste Clarke's juices.

Urge rapidly escalating, he slipped an arm around Clarke's waist and lifted her. He then turned her midair to face him and slammed her down on her back onto the furs decorating the floor of the room, kneeling in between her spread thighs. Clarke smirked up at him.

"Maybe you're not so incompetent after all." She admitted, hand running up his front, still fully dressed whereas she was spread before him completely on display. "Take it off."

He stood and began removing his garments, lifting his shirt off slowly to reveal tight, sculpted abs and muscular biceps to the intrigued set of eyes. Once he discarded his pants, both blue and green orbs zoned into the stiff, fully erect shaft that sprung free, both sets of eyes widening simultaneously at the revelation. Clarke moaned at the sight, mind launching into overdrive at the thought of the impressively large shaft sliding into her. Lexa's breathing quickened slightly, jealousy gnawing at her, wishing she could be the one to mount the blonde and penetrate her as deeply as Roan was prepared to. Her eyes met his for a brief moment and against her inner protests, she nodded, granting him permission to proceed.

He sunk to his knees once again between Clarke's parted thighs, which opened to full extent as he shifted his center closer to hers. He then positioned a hand next to her head for support while the other grasped his member, dipping it into the overflowing wetness, placing the head against her entrance and withdrawing. "Roan…" She whined, speech suddenly difficult to muster.

"I want you to beg." He ordered, hand moving from its place by her head to her outstretched neck, fingers contracting around her throat.

"Wanheda begs to no one." Lexa interrupted, eyes glaring at him for making such a ludicrous request, anger spilling out of her quivering lips.

"Oh, but she spreads herself to them? Gives herself for their pleasure?" He met Lexa's stare, smirking at the infuriated brunette.

"How DARE Y-"

"Please…" It came out a breathy whisper, causing the Prince and the Commander's gaze to detach from one another and shift to where Clarke writhed desperately beneath Roan. "Please, Roan." She placed a hand on his chest, letting her nails dig into the taut muscle. "Fuck me. Please… I need you inside."

He lifted his gaze to the dumbfounded commander, a grin tugging at his lips in silent mockery of her earlier statement and without much ceremony, thrust harshly into the blonde, burying himself to the hilt in one move, feeling the encouraging contractions pulling him in deeper. Clarke screamed, back arching off the furs, grip tightening into his wild locks. Her moan was deep and loud, surely overheard by all who surrounded the Commander's quarters. She tried ignoring the pain that seared through her core and dispersed to every corner of her body, instantly aware of how truly massive Roan was and how unprepared she was to received it. She bit down on her bottom lip to suppress the urge pull away.

Lexa was momentarily tempted to look away; to avoid having the image of her girlfriend (whom she so deeply and unequivocally loved, fucked by a man she would have no issues beheading if need be) embedded in her mind. Yet she fought that impulse, and watched as Clarke's cries filled the room the moment he plunged inside, surely tearing her apart at the roughness he exuded, an act to claim what he could while provoking Lexa. She inhaled deeply at the not-so-subtle display of power, storing the ire away as motivation for a future time.

Roan was instantly feral; thrusting deeply into Clarke, hands gripping her thighs and breasts firmly, leaving marks and bruises scattered across her creamy skin. He pulled back and out after a few moments, once he felt the walls clench around his cock in desperation, causing an immediate protest out of Clarke.

"Son of a bitch!" She yelled, tugging him closer in an attempt to get him to continue. When he refused, she wrapped a leg around his torso and pushed, flipping them so that now she was on top straddling his waist. Lexa cleared her throat loudly, clearly a cover to suppress the moan that boiled deep inside her chest at her lover's expert move. Clarke looked at her, smirk plastered on her blushing face as she guiding her hips back and down towards Roan, taking him in fully. Their eyes remained fixed on one another as she rode the prince to submission, grinding her ass and pelvis with purpose against him as her need grew in intensity. Roan allowed it, enjoying the weight of Clarke's body as it settled flush against him, feeling himself penetrate deeper into her velvet heat. His hands fondled her bouncing breasts, twirling her nipples in between his fingers. He leaned forward and took one in his mouth, sucking it in deeply and then clenching his jaw around it, drawing blood from the pink nub. Clarke gasped, reveling as the pain mingled with the pleasure, urging her to move faster.

Roan grew tired of their position soon after and lifted the blonde off of him once again, placing her on her hands and knees and positioning himself behind her. He tugged her head back, causing her spine to curve downwards and her eyes to lock with the Commander's once more, before ramming it into her from behind.

Lexa observed intently. Eyes shifting from Clarke to the Prince and back, analyzing the expressions on both faces. Clarke's eyes were firmly shut, mouth open in a perfect O as she gasped for air after each moan, teeth occasionally sinking into her plump, bottom lip. Roan remained smug and confident. His face embellishing a haughty grin as he pushed himself in and out of Clarke, eyes hooded and pupils dilated to full extent from lust. He was silent and focused, every thrust appearing to be calculated and deliberate. He pressed his palm flat against Clarke's shoulder blade, motioning her forward, bending her until her cheek rested against the furs.

He was close to the edge himself. Clarke became instantly aware as his movements became more frenzied and sporadic. He pressed himself down onto her, pinning her down with the weight of his muscular body. She yelped as he roughly bit her shoulder, a demonstration of possession and conquest. Lexa snarled at the daring act, a warning to thwart Roan from further inappropriate claims, but he was too immersed in the deed to care.

Clark pushed back against him, and once she had enough space, she agilely rolled onto her back; quickly guiding his hips back into her wet, warm core. Roan let out a grunt and snapped his eyes shut as a wave of pleasure began to course through him. He started to withdraw from the silky warmth, ignoring as the blonde dug her nails into his thighs, urging him deeper inside. He was close, the explosion imminent.

"Don't." The single word spoken sounded unexpectedly close, luring him back from his momentary surge of pleasure. A second later he felt sharp metal press against his throat, causing a shiver to snake down his spine. A hand weaved through his braids and pulled back harshly. "Finish inside her."

There it was. The treachery that brought both women to this point; to engage in this desperate affair. Clarke moved her hips against the Prince, swirling them enticingly. Roan let out a low chuckle, still held frozen in place by the Commander's frigid blade. "I should have known." He admitted, bewildered at his own lack of sense, his judgment clouded over by the lustful haze. "You just want a donor, isn't that right, Commander? Some pawn to impregnate your bitch." Lexa tugged his head back harder, rage seeping out of every pore, eyes now intercepting his.

"I need an heir, Prince Roan. A successor!" She hissed, tone soothing yet threatening, fury clearly perceptible in her words. "You, out of all people, should understand the importance in that."

"And YOU think me fit as a candidate?" He replied, voice raspy and deep, pleasure cascading him over like waves as Clarke fucked herself in an effort to trigger his release. "And why should I oblige? Do you believe that I'd allow you to raise my kid?"

"MY child!" She corrected. "Do not forget that you still breathe simply because I allow it. The moment I sense you unworthy of that, I will end you. So," Lexa spoke hurriedly into his ear, watching Clarke as she moved beneath the Prince, lips sucked into her mouth to suppress the moans pushing to escape, "the sooner we conclude this, the sooner I can consider lifting your banishment."

Lexa took a step backwards to allow Roan space, keeping the knife still pressed against the throbbing artery in his neck. He grabbed Clarke's swiveling hips and lifted them up slightly, sinking himself fully into her. She gasped and whimpered, throwing her head back in the overwhelming ecstasy reigniting in her lower belly. It didn't take much longer after to get him to release, unloading fully into the blonde. Lexa urged him to withdraw slowly once he was done, ordering him to dress while still under threat of the blade. Clarke remained on the ground, where Lexa tossed fur over her nude body to sheathe her from Roan's menacing eyes.

"Guards!" She shouted, and almost immediately the double doors swung open and two guards swarmed in. "Escort the Prince back to his cell. Provide him with fresh clothes and food. I want surveillance around his cage at all times!"

"Yes, Heda." They bowed, each wrapping a hand around the Prince, and left. Roan bid farewell with a sneer, eyes narrowing at Lexa as he was towed away. As the doors finally shut, she thought she heard a faint whisper of a wicked promise leave his lips, instinctively raising the hairs at the nape of her neck.

"Lex…" Clarke whispered, voice exhausted from her throes of pleasure, pulling Lexa out of her trance.

"Hey - shh - I'm here." She removed the fur, kneeling down to put an arm beneath her head and under her knees, lifting her. She moved effortlessly to their room, where she gently placed the weary blonde upon the bed. "What do you need? Tell me what you need, Clarke."

"Just…water. And more furs. I'm cold." Lexa smiled down at her, placing a chaste kiss on her swollen lips before leaving. She patiently waited for Clarke to settle back down into the bed after chugging down a bucket of water, before lying next to her.

She brushed back the blonde curls that stuck to her face and placed another soft kiss on her cheek. "That was difficult to watch, my love." She admitted softly, tone revealing the hurt she fought to conceal. "He was far too rough; far too arrogant with you! I should have NEVER agreed!"

"Oh, hush, Lexa." Clarke spoke back, eyes closed as she relaxed under her Commander's soft touches lulling her to sleep. "You've been far rougher with me than that. We talked about this. We agreed." She opened her eyes then, icy blue meeting green, lips arching back in a smile. "Think of the baby."

That comment, sincere and soothing, sucked away her breath. The sight of Clarke, so raw and beautiful, the genuineness and softness she witnessed in those fiery blue eyes as she spoke of a promise yet to fulfill, of a family, caused her soul to stir and her heart to flare from happiness. She couldn't contain the smile forming at her lips.

She leaned forward, kissing Clarke tenderly on the forehead. "All that matters is your happiness. That shall remain my vow to you." She whispered, lips still pressed against the forehead, muffling her words.

When Clarke succumbed to sleep, Lexa moved away carefully as to not alert her. She gazed out of the tower's window, overlooking the land and its waking citizens as the sun's first light brimmed the horizon. Mind finally still; inner voices finally quelled, momentarily at least, permitted her a moment to indulge. She imagined a child, with golden hair and bright eyes. She imagined a child carrying her name but Clarke's spirit, strength and wrath. She imagined a daughter or son to effortlessly lead armies, win battles, and end wars.

Before Clarke, she thought herself incapable of loving again. Instead now she finds herself in an unprecedented situation where she loves not one, but two people; the second still a faraway thought but firmly implanted in her heart just the same.

It's different. It's dangerous. It's the perfect formula for disaster.

She smiled. Fear be damned.