Wanheda

Clark

Enraged was not a strong enough word to describe Clarke's state of mind. She was beyond enraged; she was homicidal. The heat that coursed through her veins shook her to her very core. She meant every word she said. They echoed and rang in her ears. You bitch; you wanted the commander of death, you got her. I'll kill you."

Clarke had spent the last three months focused entirely on hunting and gathering, nothing more. She wouldn't, not for a single second, allow her rage for Lexa to surface. She couldn't. The intensity of it would have consumed her entire essence. If she opened the door, even the slightest, there would be nothing left. She would be obliterated by the memory of Lexa's betrayal. So, she did what she had to do to stay ahead of the past. She shut down her emotions, just like Lexa taught her. When feelings arose, she fought them off by putting herself in the most dangerous situation possible, using adrenaline as a numbing agent. She hunted large game three times her weight and capable of causing instant death. The adrenaline of a deadly hunt was enough to keep most emotions at bay, but not all. As she stood there enraged and encaged by the woman who betrayed her, she acknowledged her need to feel connected to another human being; it was the only emotion, not rooted in anger, she couldn't hide from. She felt alone, which was the safest for her and everyone around her, but alone was a choice she had to make, not one she wanted to.

Clarke allowed herself one brief instant to consider Niylah. Prince Roan of Azgeda was or wan't Ice Nation, she couldn't tel. He was with their guards the day Niylah lied to him about Clarke's whereabouts. Does this mean Niylah was in danger? The thought of her being harmed made Clarke feel physically ill. She couldn't take the idea of another person suffering from a connection to her or her people. It was in this instant that something inside her broke. She literally felt like she had stepped outside of her body and was standing beside herself. She assumed she was hallucinating from exhaustion and anger and didn't care. She took advantage of the illusion and entertained the idea of her translucent self slipping through the bars of her prison cell, ascending the two flights of stairs she had just been dragged down, and pinning the lythe cat eyed commander to the ground and delivering the first of a series of cuts.

The thought of Lexa's eyes pulled Clarke from her homicidal fantasy and made her shudder. She screamed at the top of her lungs and hurling her body against the bars. She would not allow the way Lexa looked at her to soften her rage. She hurled her body at the bars once more as an act of reinforcing her will. She would not Lexa's compassionate glance draw her back in. She took another run at the bars, this time hurting her shoulder and possibly loosening a lower wrung, then slid to the floor in utter exhaustion.

Clarke knew Lexa would not cause her harm. It was clear to her already that none of the guards were going to assault her or sell her to Ice Nation. She'd use this time to restore her strength. She closed her eyes and for one second let her mind return to thoughts of Niylah, a woman who wanted absolutely nothing from her yet made a dangerous move to protect her.

Lexa

Lexa felt a mixture of rage and fear. Threatening to kill the commander warranted execution and her guards had heard Clarke's words loud and clear. Killing Clarke was not something Lexa was willing to do. She needed her as an ally and she needed the Sky Peoples support. But, this was not politics as usual and Lexa knew it. Her feelings for Clarke were overwhelmingly real, yet she could not allow them to overshadow the coalitions potential to pave a way for peace. She wished Clarke understood what the coalition could accomplish. Convincing Clarke to take a leadership role was going to be extremely difficult. Clarke considered Lexa's deal with Mount Weather to be an ultimate betrayal. Even though her mind told her Clarke would have made the same deal, had she been in Lexa's shoes, her heart said otherwise. Her heart knew Clarke would have found a different way. Just like Clarke would have found a way to save the people of the village from the missile, had she not dissuaded her. A day didn't go by that she didn't hear Clarke's words echoing in her mind that they could have started a fire and forced an evacuation. The weight of tragic deaths that occurred that day because Lexa was married to a plan was accompanied by a twinge of nausea. She felt week.

Lexa had spent the past three months trying to convince herself that she wasn't as attracted to Clarke as she originally thought, but the second Prince Roan removed the hood and she saw Clarke's crystalline blue orbs and gorgeous mouth she knew she was right back in the war room the day she kissed Clarke. It was then that she felt something inside her give. And now, here she stood and the flames of attraction she thought she had extinguished had not only returned, but were threatening to engulf her.

Sleep would not come easily for Lexa. She'd never seen Clarke this angry and was genuinely afraid. It was true that she found a certain amount of comfort in the fact that Clarke was now within reach; but the comfort was blotted by an unrecognizable feeling. A feeling that kept her from being able to think straight or focus on the coalition.

Niylah

Niylah groaned as she lifted the kettle from the flame. The Sky People's healer had wrapped her ribs tight enough that she could walk, but lifting anything over a few pounds was difficult. She struggled but managed to pour the steaming water into a mug filled with healing herbs then stood there watching the steam rise for what seamed like an eternity. She knew she needed to drink the tea, but worried that it's calming affect would make her vulnerable to another attack. What if she didn't hear someone enter the shop? It was one of the few times she wished her father were home. She took note of the fact that she didn't wish for a partner; that it was her father she thought of.

It had never been in Niylah's nature to wish for a partner. She'd convinced herself that she'd never meet anyone that she would want around for anything other than sexual pleasure/comfort. That was until she met Clarke. She thought back to the first time Clarke walked into the trading post. She remembered how she felt Clarke's energy seconds before the curvaceous goddess actually appeared. Until that moment, she had doubted the Ice Nations Queens assertion that the Wanheda could absorb her victims' powers. Meeting Clarke changed her mind. The second she looked into the Warrior of Death's eyes she knew the woman before her was not someone who would kill for power. Wanheda was a label she had been given, that was all. Perhaps Clarke did gain some kind of energetic strength, but it was hard to tell what from. Maybe she had this power all along and it was invoked by circumstance?

Niylah made her way to her bed and slowly slipped in. With an almost empty mug in hand she struggled to pull the covers over her bruised body. Once settled, she breathed deeply and attempted to connect to any residual energy left behind by the woman who less than forty-eight hours earlier had made her come harder than anyone before. She smiled at the way she was able to bring Clarke to equal heights. She didn't let her mind relive the disappointment of waking up alone, instead she committed to memory the raspy tambre of Clarke's voice husking breathy messages of pleasure and encouragement.

As the herbs took hold Niylah felt her mind revisit a thought she had many times as a child – that she was a descendent of deity with powers unknown to humankind. She squeezed a few extra moments of lucidity before drifting off completely. Her dream began with the image of herself riding a golden jaguar, slipping into the Ice Queen's encampment and rescuing Clarke.