Disclaimer: I don't own The 100

A/N: So, fun fact, this story was actually inspired by a mug that I made. My friends and I went to this pottery painting place and I really wanted to do a 100 mug but, yeah, I cannot paint to save my life. So it basically boiled down to me writing "and the sky loved the ground" on my mug and I was like... Yes... Yes this is good...
And then this fic was born.
Also, obligatory apology for any typos. I try to catch 'em, but, meh, some slip through.
This will also probably be the last fic I'll be able to crank out for a little bit because I have one week of classes left, and then it's finals. Wish me luck...
Thank you for taking a chance on this!
Enjoy! X

Once upon a time, there were two girls.

One was a princess who lived, floating in the sky far above the birds and rain and clouds. She was locked away in her tower made of gray walls and childhood dreams, wishing and hoping for a tomorrow filled with trees and rivers and endless possibilities.

The other was a commander – a fierce warrior and leader – who fought on the ground and whose heart beat solely for her people. Her cage was constructed of tree limbs and war strategies and every day she felt frost seeping under her fingernails to flow through her veins. She gave up dreaming when she had to burn the universe inside of her.

Once upon a time, a princess fell from the sky. The commander on the ground did not catch her.

The princess found herself in a brand new world filled with everything she could only dream of before. She wore scrapes on her knees and her heart on her torn sleeves.

But the princess soon found that this new world also held its own horrors. She found that her crown was made out of bones and knives and broken promises. Her hands were stained red with impossible choices in an impossible world. She found herself whispering more goodbyes than hellos and as each soul left her kingdom, she felt a piece of herself leave as well.

The commander, every morning, steadily painted on her mask. As the sun, with its breathtaking oranges and yellows and pinks, rose in the morning, so did her walls. Her voice was sharp as glass, threatening to cut anyone who did not do as she told. The bones in her hands, which once tied together flowers and braided hair soft as wind and held the hand of a girl whose name sounded like forever, were made of steel and were unwavering.

Heda, her people would chant, heda, heda, heda. In a world without mercy, you are our God. And she would tell them to go die for her. And they would.

They do.

Once upon a time, the commander sent her people to kill the princess.

Once upon a time, the princess had to bury her best friend. She had to lead a people who were anarchists and did not want a princess to speak for them. She had to save them anyway because, once upon a time, a dragon came to burn her kingdom and her people down.

So the princess burned it first.

Once upon a time, the commander sent her people to kill the princess, only to have the princess become a queen, fire mixing with the blood that coursed through her.

Once upon a time, while the Sky was dazzling and the Ground was flourishing, the two domains would sometimes meet at the horizon. For the princess and the commander, this horizon was not a place, but rather it was names and lives and blood that was being stolen from them.

Once upon a time, a mountain loomed on the horizon and in it sat their people, captured and calling out to them. So together, the princess and the commander – the sky and the ground – had to align their own universes and hope that there would not be a super nova.

But, once upon a time, the princess had to kill the boy she almost loved. And after her knife had simultaneously plunged into the boy's and the princess's heart – one being irrefutably permanent and the other being an invisible scar – the commander told the princess of the once bleeding heart that pounded away in her chest.

She spoke of constellations on skin that were blessings from the sun and a spirit that was lighter than air.

The commander told the tale of girl whose once upon a time was woven together with hers – back when she wasn't the commander, but was a tiny village girl with knobby knees and a love for climbing things she shouldn't climb. The commander painted, for the princess, a picture filled with hope and bright colors, only to have it tainted by the shadows that surround being a leader. She spoke about how Gods cannot love mortals, but she stubbornly went on anyway, daring the elements to challenge her.

And so they did.

And the tiny village girl who loved to climb trees, fell. She tumbled and cursed the universe. She clawed at the ground and begged for the once upon a time when there wasn't the head of the girl who she loved more than anything sitting in front of her throne. She would have burned the world down to ensure that her ever after had a happy in front of it.

But she couldn't.

So the tiny village girl died alongside the one who she gave her heart to, and from the ashes rose the commander.

Love is weakness, she would say, and once upon a time, she believed it.

But, once upon a time, the commander did not know the princess.

In the midst of trying to make a mountain fall, the commander felt herself fall instead. In her sleep, she was no longer haunted by brown eyes that reminded her of the ground, but of blue that seem to have stolen a piece of the sky itself. She felt her frozen heart begin to slowly beat again.

The commander watched as the princess learned what it meant to carry her people, bearing the pain and heartbreak for them.

The commander watched as the princess, who fell from the sky, defy the laws of the ground and was forged into her own God.

But the princess was not a God of war or power. The princess bled each morning and she wept for those that she had to sacrifice. She was a mortal who found herself simply sitting on the clouds of the Gods and drinking the bitter wine from their cups. And the princess, once again, found herself falling from those clouds.

Once upon a time, when the days were black as night and all hope seemed to have been lost, the princess and the commander found each other. Once upon a time, when their stories were less like fairytales and more like the haunting sounds of a lone cello, the commander and the princess allowed themselves a moment of reprieve.

Once upon a time, in the middle of a war, a commander found herself in love with a princess.

Once upon a time, when may we meet again passed her lips too many times, a princess suddenly found herself instead pressed against the soft lips of a girl who was seen as a God.

Once upon a time, while her friends' lives where being drained from their bones, a princess found herself whispering not yet. The beating of her heart etched promises of soon into her rib cage and the fluttering of butterflies in her stomach threatened to lift her feet off the ground.

But then the mountain rang out and suddenly it was time for the princess and the commander to walk into war. They put armor around their hearts and both secretly hoped they would live to see another day. Because even though they both had hundreds of lives on their backs, a part of the commander was still that little village girl and a part of the princess was still the girl who fell from the sky with charcoal instead of blood on her hands. And they both selfishly wanted their happy endings.

Once upon a time, there were heroes – brilliant and bright. The heroes would work together, side by side, and would defeat the villains. They would hold steadfast, never once wavering in the face of fear. And when they would return home victorious, their people would sing songs of joy and praise for the valiant heroes.

But, once upon a time, when once upon a time could not be afforded, there were no heroes. There were only those who survived, and those who did not.

At the horizon, the ground shook and the sky cried. For the commander's only purpose in this once upon a time was to protect her people. To ensure that they reached their ever after, even if that meant sacrificing her own.

So the commander fell. But she did not fall on fluffy clouds that softened her landing. No, she fell and every bone in her body shattered – but she could not weep as she walked down the mountain with her people in tow. She could not mourn for the princess who stole what was left of her heart and humanity. She walked, each step like a knife through her ribs.

At the horizon, the princess was left to stand alone in the shadow of the mountain. Her entire world had left her, but she refused to budge. She did not run away despite the breaking of her soul and the quiver in her knees. She did not fall. She became steel.

Once upon a time, a princess fell from the sky. She had a heart of hopes and a determination to do what was right. She believed in the good and creating a world that was based on more than just surviving.

Once upon a time, a princess fell from the sky, and in turn, made the world around her crumble. The elements challenged her, and just like everything before, the princess's crown did not move from her head.

Once upon a time, a princess made a mountain burn.

Once upon a time, a commander became a phantom – the only evidence she ever existed was a scar on a princess's heart and bruised lips.

Once upon a time, there was the sky and the ground. And even though the sky loved the ground and the ground adored the sky, they could never truly be together – kept apart by their own worlds and the impossible demands placed upon their backs.

But they took solace in the moments when their horizons softly kissed anyway.