Part I: "May We Meet Again"

Clarke

Lexa turned from Clarke, her mask slipping down her left cheek in the form of a solitary tear. She stepped quickly ahead of her guards so that they would not see. Though it was the first of many that the Commander would spill that night and many nights to come, it was the only tear that Clarke saw through the haze of her own. Wha? What, What did you do? Lexa? No Wait! Come back! Don't leave me! Don't leave me… No words escaped her mouth though as an unflappable panic and horror began to make it's home in her stomach. Lincoln's yells were already in the distance as the Heda kom Skaikru stood alone at the gates of her hell as she heard a mournful sounding horn blow from the direction of the retreating army.

Come back...

Lexa had gone. Lexa left. Lexa took her army and left the Skaikru to die. Clarke tried to reconcile these facts with the Lexa that Clarke knew. Maybe in time, maybe in time, real forgiveness would worm its way into Clarke's heart, but not right now. Right now, the hollow feeling inside her was just too overwhelming. Lexa's decision was 'head over heart'? Sure, Clarke could see that; the more she thought about it, she realised that the frail and broken grounders that limped out of the main entry way must've been herded there by the mountain men… herded with machine guns so that their large number would have been meaningless if they tried to resist.

After all, if Bellamy had done his job, they would've evacuated via the empty mine tunnels in which Clarke was now walking. She didn't count the grounders as they exited, she was just too heartbroken at that moment, but they were surely numbering in the hundreds, far surpassing the toll of the missile strike on Tondc. Head over heart

Hundreds of Lexa's people or 48 of Clarke's

Clarke was almost sick, but even though she was emotionally in tatters, she recognized the cruel truth of Lexa's response to her desperate question: "What did you do?"

"What you would have done."

And Clark heard the moroseness of Lexa's voice as she said it. Lexa was right of course; but it still hurt, cripplingly.

Clarke's tears were drying, though only through force of will; left alone and without purpose, Clarke would be inconsolable; but her people needed her and so she put her head first, pushing back against the impulse to go back and run after her Heart and try to convince her to stay and fight, for her; even if it was just Lexa and not the whole army. No. Her people came first.

She entered the mine, and was nearly at the entrance to the mountain's innards when she heard a few sets of footsteps quietly keeping pace with her, several metres back. She turned, but couldn't see through the darkness, and couldn't hear anything anymore either. She shook her head, realising it was just her heart playing tricks on her head. She continued on, ignoring the sounds behind her as she began to hear the fuming sounds of Octavia ahead of her. Just as she approached the younger girl, a voice turned her on her heel, also drawing Octavia's attention.

"Yellow Hair. You're Heda kom Skaikru, Clarke. Are you not?" an authoritative and heavily accented voice spoke from the darkness behind them. A female stranger appeared, flanked by two other figures, all uniformly clothed in aesthetically pleasing layers of grey and black cloth and armour. The centre figure was a woman, who appeared to be about thirty, perhaps a little younger, strikingly beautiful and just taller than Commander Lexa. Her voluminous hair was cloaked in the camouflage of her matching coloured armour and cloth. The figure on her right was also a woman, though she appeared closer to Clarke and Octavia's age, and shorter than both, though her ferocious amber-green eyes belied any weakness. Her dark red hair was braided practically behind her head with her bangs braided and pinned so that it hung just outside of her right eye.

The last figure, standing almost aloof to the left of the taller woman was a short man with wild sand coloured un-braided hair. He was shorter than both Clarke and Octavia, of a height with the red-haired girl, though he looked far too confident to hint at any weakness despite his noticeably short stature. Both subordinates looked to their leader, who awaited Clarke's reply.

"I am." Clarke responded, voice raspy from grief, though she was doing a superb job of holding back her tears, most of which had begun to evaporate.

"Who the fuck cares?" Octavia threw back at them, catching Clarke in her verbal barb.

The woman in the middle smirked at the young warrior in front of them. Her vibrant chocolate eyes looked down on the pair of them with half amusement and half pride. "You're trikru, why did you not heed the retreat?" she asked Octavia with her left eyebrow raised.

"I'm also loyal to the Skaikru within the clutches of the monsters through this door, and I'll never leave my brother here to die." Octavia replied heatedly. At this point, the woman stepped forward a few steps and seemed to breath them both it, eyes slowly going back and forth between the blue-eyed Heda with an army of none and a warrior with no people. Her eyes settled on Clarke, and held out her hand, drawing from her hip and extending a familiar sheathed dagger to the blonde Heda and declared, "Jus drein, jus daun, should it not?" The dagger was the same one that Clarke saw being twirled in the hand of the one she loved, it had once saved Clarkes life, flying from the same hand of Lexa, the emerald-eyed Heda. Clarke's eyes widened in recognition, but Octavia frowned quizzically, not understanding exactly what was happening.

Instead of immediately taking the dagger, Clarke looked at it confoundedly, as did Octavia. The man to the side spoke up in a wry tone, "Take the blade Skai Heda, and we will aid you to victory."

Clarke asked the obvious question, "Who are you?"

All three of the figures now were very nearly grinning, this time it was the red haired girl who replied in a similarly accented voice as the tall woman beside her, "We stand apart from the Trikru, but we are loyal to Lexa." She now looked at her superior officer as it were to finish what she started.

The tallest of the three took the other woman's cue and declared, "I am Bianca, this is Maeve and Levi," referring to the red haired young woman and man in turn.

Levi finished the exchange, "Lexa sent us to aid you in whatever capacity you need. You must understand, we will obey your any command, because you are… not just anyone to the Commander. Since she could not be here she entrusted my sister's blade to you as proof of her intent and dedication," he paused briefly but then continued, "Lexa's heart must really bleed for you to afford you such an honour." He wasn't bitter, but almost reverent. Clarke eyed him briefly before carefully accepting the blade from Bianca as Levi finished speaking. Before she could respond, she noticed the letters neatly etched into the hilt and started trembling slightly, new and surprisingly warming tears flooded her eyes as she beheld the truth of Lexa's loyalty to her; the letters etched into the wooden hilt of the blade read: Costia.

Author's Note: Hi, this is my first The 100 story, and I'd love your support if you can afford it me. I hope you enjoy reading, and let me know how you like it... by which I mean reviewing... :P Thanks!