"Love is friendship that has caught fire. It is quiet understanding, mutual confidence, sharing and forgiving. It is loyalty through good and bad times. It settles for less than perfection and makes allowances for human weaknesses." - Ann Landers
Chapter 1: Ge Smak Daun
As Clarke disappeared into the trees surrounding Camp Jaha, she made sure not to look back. She could feel Bellamy's eyes as they bore into her retreating form for as long as she could be seen. Perhaps it was just that Clarke knew that Bellamy, if no one else, would be watching her, hoping for her to turn around, waiting for her to change her mind.
She couldn't go back, not now, and maybe not ever. The vacant looks of the Level 5 citizens that she had condemned to death, Jasper's seething looks of hatred and loss, and the whispers – whether they were sympathetic or condemning - would haunt her endlessly around the camp.
Though some may say she was running, Clarke felt otherwise. She was surely not running from the dead, as she would be taking them with her. She, and the dead of Mount Weather, would travel together far away from Camp Jaha, and far away from everyone who didn't deserve to carry the burden that had come with her decision.
Clarke knew that wandering without a plan was dangerous, but she was tired of being so logical and calculating. She spent her first night at the drop ship, wandering through the corpses that still lay scattered along the beaten pathways that they had once called home. It seemed like yesterday that she was still up on the Ark, her biggest crime – if it could even be called that - was of little significance. It was a crime that she hadn't even committed, and her sentence was more a deterrent than a punishment.
Finn had once told her that Earth was their second chance. It was a chance to erase the past, to build a future, and to show that they were good. To be able to show that she had good intentions, not just an instinct for survival, would have been enough for Clarke.
Yet, here she was, alone and with more blood on her hands than she could handle. Dozens of the original 100 were dead. Anya had been killed under her watch. How many Grounders had she condemned to a deadly inferno, many who she had never even seen their faces? It had been by her hand that Finn had perished, and though she had done it out of mercy, she could never ignore the look of betrayal that Raven pinned her with even to this day. An entire surviving civilization in Mount Weather was gone because of her, and she had killed President Wallace as what? A warning? Clarke knew that if she had gotten her hands on Cage, she would have been first in line to extinguish the life from him as well.
When had she decided that it was her right to decide who lives and who dies?
For several nights, she stayed in the hollow that Lincoln had once called home. When she was ready, she moved further to the west, over creeks and Grounder-built bridges, taking shelter in whatever was offered. One night she would stay in a cave, the next night she would find herself in an old vehicle or bomb shelter – half buried under rubble and foliage.
Being alone had its advantages and disadvantages, both of them revolving around an obscene amount of time to dwell over the past and muddle through her thoughts and feelings.
Days turned into weeks, and by the fourth week, she found that she still woke screaming from nightmares. Those had not changed, nor had they gotten any better. Unlike her first couple of weeks though, she could function much better during the day. The red circles that had rimmed her eyes for a good part of a month had dried and faded, and she travelled further each passing day. She started to be more aware of the things around her, instead of stumbling blindly through the wilderness. The haunts that followed her seemed to grow quieter when it was light out and they appeared much less often. A strange sort of peace settled over her during the day. No longer did she have to worry about Reapers or acid fog. She didn't have to watch for Mountain Men lurking behind trees and under bushes. She perhaps didn't even have to watch out for the Grounders. It was like a whole new world had opened up to her, and though she was still constantly on guard, it was a relief to not meet potential demise in every shadow.
"Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim," Clarke whispered softly to herself one night, remembering a phrase Octavia had once taught her so long ago. Her small fire crackled softly, soothingly, and Clarke lost herself in her thoughts. She had been thinking more and more of the Grounders as of late, remembering their alliance, and replaying the memories of her and Lexa in her mind over and over.
When she had first started thinking about the Commander again, she had felt anger pooling through her abdomen. She had spent so much time drowning herself in sorrow and guilt, that she was almost thankful for feeling downright hateful of the woman. Adrenaline had accompanied her anger, and soon her whole being flared to life. For the first time in what seemed forever, she had finally felt complete again.
The Commander had hurt her, and though the anger subsided, it did not disappear entirely. Clarke understood why Lexa had made the decision that she had. She realized that she did not blame her.
Had Lexa thought that Clarke would just let her people die? Had the Commander truly not seen any other solution? Sometimes Clarke wished she could have known what exactly had been said to Lexa to change her mind so resolutely.
Clarke also wondered if there would have been more bloodshed if Lexa had refused the deal. Would they have been able to save her mother and the others if they had taken Mount Weather head on? Clarke didn't know, but something told her that if they had proceeded as planned, the plan itself would have fallen apart at some point or another. It always had for Clarke, but new opportunities had presented themselves, and somehow everything had always worked out. Sometimes not in the most ideal manner, but her and the others, for the most part, were all still alive and well.
If Lexa had stayed and took her warriors in through the front, who knew how many casualties, Grounder and Sky, they would have had? Level 5 would likely still have been eradicated, and though it would likely have been Lexa's call, Clarke would have still taken the guilt for Lexa's decision – much like she had for Tondc.
Clarke's thoughts moved on, and her anger and hatred subsided. She decided that though she was disappointed in the Commander's decision to break the alliance with her people, she was more upset over being abandoned. Clarke had cared for Lexa deeply, almost to the point that losing Lexa was as bad as losing Finn.
But she hadn't lost Lexa – not necessarily. If Lexa did not care, she would have left without a word to Clarke. She would not have spared her a second glance. She would not have ordered Lincoln to look after her.
"What will you do when it's over?" Lexa had asked her while they had waited for Raven to disable Mount Weather's defences. When Clarke had said she didn't know, the Commander had seemed genuinely interested in knowing what Clarke wanted. At that point, Clarke had wanted to survive. She had wanted her people back. She had never been able to think of the future, even though she had chastised Lexa that they had deserved to do more than just survive, that they deserved to have hopes and dreams. In hindsight, it had been Lexa that saw past the battle, who had the confidence that they would survive. Even now, Clarke concentrated only on the present day. She moved from one event to the next. It was no different to how Lexa buried her thoughts and feelings. The two of them were one and the same, but Clarke, unlike Lexa, could not accept it.
"You should come with me to the Capital," Lexa had offered. Did it still stand? Could Clarke still go and learn more about the Grounders? Lexa had said that going would change how she viewed them. Though Clarke already held them in high regard, despite everything that had happened, the offer had piqued her interest.
The more she thought about it, the more she wondered if going with the Grounders to the Capital would help her heal. There had been few things that did not involve war or survival since landing.
Clarke wanted to feel safe. She wanted to do something that didn't require her to pick and choose lives. She wanted to do something that didn't require survival to be the first and foremost thing in her mind. She wanted. She desired. She-
She needed some sort of reprieve, and she wanted to have it with Lexa. Lexa, who had to make the same hard decisions that she had. Lexa, who understood her better than anyone else. It was Lexa, who, even in the most dangerous of situations, made her feel safe. Strong. Understood.
Did the offer still stand? She didn't know, but while she debated it with herself, she realized that at some point, she had been subconsciously looking for the long-gone army of the Grounders.
Clarke realized that before her head had made her decision, her heart had already been trying to find her heda.