Your Fight Is Over
Clarke is woken late in the day by the bright rays of sun filtering in through the trees. Feeling a little lost and empty now that Mt Weather was behind her, she just lay in her hammock and watched the light dance across her skin. After all these months on the ground, she continued to marvel at the warmth of the sun and the sweetness of the air. On the ark, the oxygen was thin and always smelled vaguely metallic. Even so, she cannot help but wonder if maybe things would be simpler if she stayed up there. If they all did. Perhaps it would have been better if they all died together then.
This was supposed to be a new start for all of them. Instead there had been so much pain and death. She was sick of it. She could feel a weariness clinging to her bones. She said she would bear the burden for her people, but she was beginning to think the weight would crush her. Every time she allowed herself to think back over her choices, she could feel her chest compress until she couldn't breathe and waves of nausea would hit her all at once.
That's why she couldn't walk through the gates of Camp Jaha. It felt almost sacrilegious to go back to life as it was before, to pretend her hands could ever be clean again. Even Bellamy didn't understand at the end. He had tried to absolve her, forgive her. There was no forgiveness broad enough to save her now. She did what she had to do, though she wished there had been a better way. The truth was, given the same choices again, she would still have done the exact same thing to save her people. It didn't change the guilt. The guilt that had become so real as to be almost tangible, a pall that hung over her.
A week ago, she had walked away from her mom, her friends, and her people. She had set an immediate beeline back up to Mt. Weather. It had been cleared of supplies and the bodies had all been burned in giant bonfires, their allies and enemies alike. They burned together in death, as Clarke had burned them together in life. There were no grave markers. No physical reminder of the people who had survived here within their concrete prison for almost a century. No one to mourn the dead.
The Grounders had returned to their villages, although she had felt the presence of lingering scouts in her peripheral vision on occasion. It was likely they expected retaliation, though that was the last thing on anyone's agenda right now. For the most part it seemed they were giving the Sky people a wide berth, at least for the moment, whether out of respect, fear, or shame, who could say. It was quiet. It seemed even birds avoided this place now. Not that Clarke could blame them. There was still something ominous about the way the bunker jutted out of the cliff below and intruded into the skyline above. Clarke did not really know why she was here. It was like being in a trance, an invisible pull leading her back to the main door. The place where she was betrayed.
When Clarke had slid her knife between Finn's ribs to forge the alliance, she had thought "at least it's done now". She believed her heart was finally broken for good and any last shred of redemption died with him. But it was done, and a peace, however tenuous was formed and at least Finn's death meant something, when so few deaths actually did. In the end it had been for nothing. Finn and all the lives lost in the missile attack. All for nothing. Jus drien, jus daun. So maybe she got what she deserved after all. Maybe Lexa's betrayal was her ultimate punishment. Clarke's heart could still be broken after all. She couldn't shake the memory of Lexa from her mind. The commander had been so resolute and somehow so fragile all at once. Lexa had warned her. Love is weakness. In the absence of love, was Clarke stronger now? She certainly didn't feel like it. She did not feel much of anything anymore. She wanted to feel rage, she wanted to hate Lexa, to channel all of this emptiness into something actionable. Instead all Clarke felt was pity for her.
Clarke had the benefit of sitting on her high horse for most of her life by being angry with the council, her mom, Jaha, Kane, Wells, and Bellamy in turn. She got to blame them for making the hard decisions. She got to set herself a a part from them. Then she was off the ark and watched everything down here fall to pieces. The learning curve was steep. And god did she learn quick. Clarke made the hard choices for what she thought was the right reasons these months past. But this was Lexa's whole life. She was no older than Clarke and her friends and yet she had seen so much more death and was responsible for so many more lives. Lexa had not been cruel, Clarke had only been naive. May we meet again. No they wouldn't, not in any real sense. Lexa and Clarke as they had existed in that moment were dead and buried. They were both different people now. Not better or worse, but different regardless.
Clarke spent that night in the shadow of the mountain. It was the first night she had been and felt truly alone since she landed. Her sleep was restless. She felt the presence of the dead all around. Men, women, and children surrounded her, their mouths open in silent screams as their skin blistered. Maya looking sadly into her eyes, mouthing "none of us are innocent". And indeed none of them were.
It was so senseless. All they wanted was to live and yet there had been so much blood shed in the name of that survival. Her dad had taught her better than this. Her dad had given up his life because he believed that his people would come together for the common good. Her dad was a good guy. For a while, Clarke thought she could be one too. It turns out, her mom was right. Clarke couldn't see it...refused to see it for a long time. Clearly the line between good and evil had blurred long ago or maybe there was never any line to begin with.
At dawn, Clarke was exhausted but felt more at peace than she had the day before. This was her life now. She had to move forward. Now that her friends were safe, there were no more distractions. Clarke was left hollow and if she was honest she had to admit she didn't really know what was next. So she headed back down the mountain and weighed her options. The dropship and the bunker Finn found were useless to her. They came with too many unpleasant memories and there was no guarantee her friends wouldn't come looking for her there. She wandered for some time until she came to a river. She decided to set up camp until she figured out what came next. She spent the week fishing, hunting small game, and exploring. She finally started sketching again and had a chance to enjoy the natural beauty all around her. She was still vigilant and somewhat on edge though it had been quiet around her remote camp site. She kept a handgun holstered on her hip.
She spent her nights wrestling with her loneliness and uncertainty about the future. She was always haunted just below the surface. The peace and quiet was neither familiar nor comforting to her. There was no one to save her and no one left for her to save. She was in this for herself now. Clarke had nothing but her demons left. If only they could all stay in her head.
Clarke felt the presence behind her before she heard it. Her reflexes had slowed somewhat, but she was still able to roll off the hammock and come up in a crouch with her gun drawn, heart pounding ready to face down the intruder.
A startled fox stared her down briefly before darting into the trees.
Clarke exhaled and lowered the gun, managing a smile as she rose to her feet and backed straight into the person behind her.
Clarke's gun was knocked out of her hand as she spun around. And the momentum knocked her to the ground. She scrambled to get on her feet-
"Clarke".
At hearing the voice, Clarke stilled and felt her body go cold.
Clarke always thought that when she wasn't wearing her heavy war make-up, Lexa looked like a young girl constantly on the verge of asking a question. And that exact expression was on Lexa's face as she looked down at Clarke sitting, somewhat panicked, in the foliage.
The commander's hair was in one relaxed braid coming down her right shoulder, and she was wearing a loose fitting black long coat over a black tunic, dark blue pants, and black boots. There was no armor and she was alone, as defenseless as a warrior like her can be.
Lexa reached down and Clarke flinched back instinctively. The brunette paused briefly before opening her hand gently. Clarke looked from the offered hand, to her gun a few feet away, and back again.
Finally she took the hand and Lexa hoisted her softly to her feet.
Clarke's mind was racing, evaluating escape routes and tensing her body, prepared for anything. But then she made the mistake of looking into Lexa's eyes which were boring back into hers. All thoughts of fight or flight evaporated. All Clarke could remember was the last time they were this close together, back when she thought that, with time, she could come to love the fearless warrior queen before her.
But that's not who she was seeing. The Lexa before her was not the hardened and determined heda facing all out war to save her people. She was not the bloodied and almost conflicted woman saying goodbye on Mt. Weather. She had changed of course. Like Clarke, the idea of peace had left Lexa feeling out of place, like a dull blade that was no longer useful and it showed in her demeanor. Who was Lexa under the armor, without the danger? Neither of the people in the clearing knew for certain.
"You shouldn't be here. You know better," Clarke spoke evenly and softly, breaking the charged silence that had boiled up around them. There was an undercurrent of anger that she hadn't expected welling up inside her.
Lexa swallowed and took a step back but moved no further, never taking her eyes from Clarke.
"I heard what happened with the mountain men. I expected you would return to your people. So when my scouts said you were out here alone...I...I was warned not to come. But I needed to-"
"To what? Explain? Apologize? You left me...left my people on the mountain when I...when we needed you. You should have let it lie. We've all made choices. We all have to live with them. Follow your head back to your camp, leave me alone. We both know that's what you're good at."
For a brief second, the stoic grounder looked almost physically struck by the hurt in Clarke's words. But the second passed quickly and a cool certainty returned to Lexa's face.
"No! I have not come to apologize or explain anything to you. As you say, I have made my choice and I do not regret it. I did what I had to do to save my people. But I did not set out to hurt you Clarke. More than anyone, you were the one I wanted to spare. I know there is nothing I can do to convince you. Still, my people live and so do yours, yet here we stand separate and alone….can you tell me now that you would not have done what I did?"
Clarke lowered her gaze as she felt her eyes fill with the first tears since Mt. Weather and willed them to stay there lest she show weakness now when she needed conviction. Her hands curled into fists and her nails dug into her palm as she lifted her head to look at Lexa. Clarke's initial bluster had turned leaden in her stomach.
"...I don't know anything anymore. I don't know who I am or what I've become. I used to think….things would be different if I had a chance to decide, to be heard. No, I didn't think I could do what you did but….I did worse. I did worse. You didn't see Lexa, I let them all die. There were children and people who helped us and I killed them all. I watched them scream until they stopped. They were people like us. They wanted to live. They made a choice too. There's nothing left now. There's no hope here. Every bit of good in us is going to be sacrificed. What kind of world is that? What kind of fresh start can there be? There's so much blood now. And we can't go back! There's no going back for any of us!"
Tears fell freely now, they rolled off Clarke's chin as she sunk to her knees. Lexa reached out to slow the blonde's descent, dropping with her and holding her gingerly in her arms. Clarke leaned into the crook of Lexa's neck and allowed herself to be held but did not return the gesture.
"I know Clarke. My scouts told me as much. That is why I had to come to you." Lexa ran her hands soothingly down Clarke's back.
Clarke stiffened and pushed the commander away before moving to sit against a tree, slightly sobered. Lexa stood with a somber expression, her own eyes were moist though no tears came.
Clarke closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the bark, "Spare me your sympathy. I don't want to be comforted. I don't want forgiveness. I don't want you here. Just leave me alone. We are not the same. We never will be". She hoped she didn't sound as broken as she felt.
"I have no sympathy to offer you. There is no comfort for people like us. And even if you could accept forgiveness, there are none left alive to give it. The dead are dead. The living must live. Such is the way of the world. We bear our own burdens, I know this better than you. But you do not have to do it alone…..I once offered you a place in our capital. I wanted you to think better of my people. While I know you may never think better of me, that offer stands. I leave for Polis tomorrow at dawn, much is now changed amongst the clans and I must decide how to move forward. I think you now have the same decision before you. Our camp lies across the river to the east." Lexa looks as if she wants to say more but instead abruptly turns and walks back the way she came. She pauses a few feet away and turns with visible tear tracks on her cheeks, "may we meet again Clarke of the Sky People."
She does not look back as she fades away into the green of the forest.
Clarke sleeps soundly through the night. By sunrise, her makeshift camp is packed. She squints against the sun as she looks out across the river. She heads toward the light, never looking back.