A/N: this was originally just a one – shot but I got a request for more AND I've had more ideas for this pairing, running around in my head anyway! So this is now a drabble collection of various Clarke/Roan vignettes.

Any specific plot requests, you are welcome to leave along with your reviews.

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(Takes place during Season 4 Ep 10 "Die all, die merrily") if you haven't gotten this far, this is your official spoiler warning!

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Hainofi

Clarke/Roan

Rating: T

"A fight to the death? So you're telling me that instead of working together so that we all get a chance to survive, we're gonna kill each other off and whoever's left gets the bunker?"

Bellamy rubbed the back of his neck reluctantly. He was tired and not looking forward to yet another argument.

"Clarke… if it's the only way to settle this fairly, then…"

"Whose idea was this?!"

The blonde was less than happy with the news – in fact, she was furious. Which left Bellamy, Kane and her mother more than a little confused; when it came down to it, with Octavia as their fighter, Skaikru had a good chance of winning and Clarke more than anyone else, never backed down from doing what was necessary for the survival of their people. Why was she so angry this time?

"Whose idea was this, Bellamy?" she persisted angrily. "Yours?!"

But before the brunette could answer, Kane stepped in. "Not Bellamy's. Roan's."

Her body went cold and she stared back at Kane in shock.

"…Roan?"

"The clans were getting restless, Clarke; revolt was in the air, we sensed it, Roan sensed it. Azgeda would have overthrown him in the blink of an eye, if he hadn't found a way. This was the best solution he could think of. As much as I don't like it, I have to agree that it – makes sense."

"No."

All eyes cut to Clarke and the blonde was shaking her head vigorously, blue eyes hard and defiant. "No. We can't accept this! I won't accept this!"

"Clarke, honey - there's nothing you can do; the fights have already been set for tomorrow at noon. You did everything you could but these are Roan's people. I know he's your friend but it's time you let him handle this." Abby ran a tentative hand down her daughter's arm in an attempt to soothe her, but Clarke only recoiled, shaking her head yet again. "No. You might be okay with this but I refuse to be, and king or not, I'm not going to just sit by and let Roan martyr himself." With that, the blonde turned on her heel and left.

It was a long way to Polis on horseback, but she didn't care. She had to stop Roan before he destroyed his people and himself.

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She reached Polis just after dawn but it was several hours before she managed to gain an audience with Roan – Azgeda's King was in conference most of the morning, conferring with the ambassadors and afterwards, he left straight for his chambers to prepare for the conclave.

It took a bit of time and a plea to Indra that it was imperative she speak with Roan before the fight. At last, she got her way and with only a single hour remaining before the opening ceremonies, Clarke refused to waste one precious second.

Roan stood in his chambers freshly bathed and dressing for battle, when there was an abrupt knock at the door.

"Enter."

"Ai Haihefa. Clarke kom Skaikru begs an audience with you."

The Azgeda King smirked knowingly. "Let her in."

The guard bowed and in the next moment, Clarke was sweeping briskly into the room, hands poised on her hips, lips pursed in a grim line and eyes spitting fire.

He shook his head and held up a hand just as her lips parted to speak. "Before you again try to plead your case, there is no need. I've taken care of it and Skaikru will have a fair chance at the bunker, just like everyone else. You're welcome."

The amusement was clear in his deep, gravelly voice and had it been any other time, Clarke may have questioned whether or not that was a smile twinkling in his eyes. But there was no time and he was clearly under the very false impression that she was one hundred percent onboard with this whole affair.

Was he ever in for a surprise.

"Just what in the hell are you doing, Roan?"

He paused – shirt half over his head – and looked over at her. "Excuse me?"

She huffed in exasperation and gestured to his weapons laid out on the table nearby. "I thought we'd agreed to give everyone a chance to be saved. Now you're getting ready for some insane fight to the death instead?!"

He sighed heavily, pulling his shirt the rest of the way on, before walking to the table and resting his hands heavily on the surface. His eyes scrutinized his weapons carefully, critically – each one having been chosen for a specific purpose and he did not look at her. "This is a chance, Clarke. This was the only way I could resolve things peacefully."

"Really. Really, so you call a ceremonial massacre, peaceful?!"

He shot a sharp look at her over his shoulder. "You speak as if I'm committing everyone to death; if everyone fights, everyone has a chance at survival – including Skaikru. I thought that's what you wanted."

She gaped at him. "What I wanted? No, I wanted everyone to have an equal share in the bunker and I thought you did too."

He grit his teeth, drawing up to his full height as he faced the enraged blonde. "Clarke, no one in Azgeda will 'share equally' with anyone but their own. I know it, you know it and if we insist on forcing it now, believe me there will still be a blood bath, the only difference is it will happen underground and there will be no fair play to be had."

He turned his back on her then and proceeded to don his leather jacket. The silence drew on for a time, until he heard her move closer and when he looked up, she was staring at his body like he had some terrible incurable disease. "What are you doing?" she asked.

He cocked a brow at her, fastening the last buckle on his jacket before taking up his sword and strapping it to his hips. "I would think it's obvious."

That was when something terrifying struck her and she realized… he was going to fight.

"You – Roan, you can't be serious! You're the King! If you win, your people are going to need you to lead them!"

"You mean 'when' I win." His smirk was devious then. "You are right, my people need their king to lead them; that is precisely why I must fight."

"But you're the King – Roan you can choose someone to fight for you."

But the monarch was shaking his head as he tied off his boots and sheathed a dagger at his calf. "No I can't."

"Why?! Even your mother -"

Her desperation was confusing him. Why was she suddenly so adamant that he not fight? Why was she so against this? It was her mounting persistence however, that was starting to piss him off and he turned on her, his patience at an end. "My mother was highly respected and feared by her people. She delivered punishment where she saw fit and she cow towed to no one. My reign – at best – has been questionable in the eyes of Azgeda and if I were to hide behind the back of someone else in this fight, it would only weaken me further." He grit out, his tone harsh and unforgiving. "I have sacrificed – a great deal of my influence, Clarke, and the majority of it has been for Skaikru's sake. Your sake. I will not give you any more of my dignity. As king of Azgeda I will fight for the future of my people. Just as Octavia will fight for the future of yours." He stood before her, draped in full battle garb and even though his expression was hard– void of all emotion – and the look in his eyes like Death himself, Clarke could not tear her eyes away and her heart leapt inexplicably in her chest. Even in this terror – filled moment, Roan of Azgeda was beautiful and it was perhaps this very thought that had the blonde terrified and fighting against reality with everything she had.

Even with all that was at stake, after everything they'd sacrificed, in the end she couldn't bear to see Roan sacrificed too. Not Roan. Not after all he'd done for her.

He was brushing passed her now and it was only then that Clarke was ripped from her thoughts by the sound of the victory horn signaling it was ten minutes before the start of the ceremony.

"This is goodbye, Wanheda." His dark raspy voice seemed to echo loudly in the stillness of the room and it was enough to boost her waning courage. Moving without a thought, her hand reached for him and she grasped his arm just before he reached the door.

"Roan, please."

Startled by the sudden pressure of her hand on his arm, Roan's glacial orbs darted one last look back – only to freeze when the tears welling in her eyes were already cutting a path down her cheeks. He'd seen her weep only once before and that had been when she nearly lost her mother. That was an understandable grief, though not one he could easily relate to.

But this? He had no viable explanation so he simply stared, brows furrowed and lips curved in a curious frown.

When she opened her mouth to speak, her lips quivered and her voice was small and unsteady. "… please, don't do this!"

More tears tracked down her now – reddened cheeks as she begged him, and pleaded with him not to go through with this. But why? "Clarke, I don't – You have always done what is necessary, so why -"

Her fingers tightened on his arm and she was shaking her head vigorously. "No. Not this time. I can't. I can't do this. Not this."

His eyes narrowed, gazing upon her intently as he almost turned towards her. "Why?"

Her lips rolled together – her eyes faltering to the floor for only a moment before she stared him down with renewed determination. "Because this time, it's you."

He shook his head slowly, still at a loss to her reasoning. His eyes fell to the floor searchingly. "And why – Why should that make a difference?" his eyes locked with hers again, sharp and penetrating.

"You have sacrificed nearly everything for your people Clarke, so have I; it's what we do as leaders and you – You, Wanheda – have always understood that we do what we must -"

"Well I can't do this. I can't – I can't sacrifice you, Roan."

His head tilted to the side, watching her closely and he spoke lowly. "You have – never refused that option before this. You have-"

"No! I can't -" her words cut off and suddenly, her free hand covered her mouth as she attempted to stifle a bitter cry. Fresh tears stained her cheeks and dripped off the end of her chin. "I – I c-can't watch you die, Roan…!"

She hiccuped and this time, she looked right at him not even caring to hide her tears, though she knew he likely saw it as weakness.

"Clarke…"

"I can't lose you too."

And there it was. The confession was out in the open and though Clarke had sworn to herself she would never let anyone that close again, Roan had swept into her life like a violent whirlwind. She'd never expected it, she was unprepared and he'd left all of the perfectly – constructed walls around her heart, in a heap of destruction at her feet. He had no way of knowing what he'd done and she'd promised herself she would keep this secret for good.

…But now, they were on the brink of yet another war, only this time, Roan was the one prepared to martyr himself without a second thought.

There was no time to hold back now – to hell with secrets.

"You can't ask that of me. You can't ask me to just stand aside and watch someone I – someone I deeply care about – march off to his death!" her eyes found his again only this time, his eyes were shuttered and his expression completely closed off. She had no way of knowing what was going through his head and the suspense was killing her.

Her hands started to shake and her voice trembled when she tried one last time. "Just – please don't do this to me. Let me find another way, please!"

Still nothing.

Then, there was a knock and one of Roan's guards spoke through the door. "My Lord, they are ready for you."

"I am on my way, Elrick."

This only proved to Clarke that he had disregarded every one of her pleas and now, she was beyond desperate.

"No. No, you won't be going anywhere." With that, she surprised him with a knee to the gut and in one last ditch effort to force him to stay, she threw herself between him and his only way out, bolted the door and turned to face him with a dagger in hand.

Catching his breath, Roan stood tall, and whirled on her. He should have expected something like this from her, but to be honest, he hadn't expected any of it. – not over this. Not because of him.

"Clarke. You know you have just committed treason?"

She didn't flinch. Her eyes stayed locked with his and he could see she held no regret for her actions. "I don't care. If this keeps you from being reckless – if this keeps you alive, then I'll do whatever it takes."

His expression changed then and she thought she saw something between disappointment and longing cross his features. "Clarke, get out of my way."

Her grip tightened on her dagger, her feet spread apart as she anchored herself to block his way. "No."

His lips thinned and his expression hardened. "I won't ask you again." He warned.

"Then you'll have to kill me."

Her words caused painto flash clearly in his eyes.

"Don't do this, Clarke…please don't."

She lightly shook her head – one last loan tear spilling down her cheek before pursed her lips and lifted her chin defiantly. "I am not – losing someone I love to this war, again."

This fostered a reaction from him and she watched in hidden amusement as the feared King of Azgeda actually went slack – jawed.

He said nothing. What could he say? All he could do was gape at this woman, wide – eyed and utterly speechless.

The summoning horn echoed once again in the distance but neither moved an inch.

They held each others' gaze.

There was a turn of expression in his eyes and then he was surging towards her.

Interpreting his move as an attack, Clarke braced herself and charged him.

But then, everything went wrong. Before she even had a chance, Roan had disarmed her and his strong arms locked around her waste. In a moment of panic, she thrashed in his hold, then her demeanor changed and she was fighting against him angrily, beating him with her fists and screaming. "No, no! You can't do this! No!"

She fought with all she had and he struggled to restrain her. "Clarke – You will draw every one of my guards here in seconds -"

"I don't care! I won't – let you do this, you can't do this!"

"Clarke, Enough!" He hissed venomous. Managing to wrestle her so her back was pressed against his chest, he grabbed her wrists and forcefully pinned her arms to her chest in a cross, restricting the majority of her movement. She couldn't do much against him now and they both knew it.

But Clarke was stubborn – as always – and she started to kick in a fruitless effort to fight him. "P-Please. Please, please, please don't do this, don't - d-don't go!"

"Clarke, listen to me!" he pressed his lips to her ear so she would hear him. "Listen to me, you have to stop this."

Her head thrashed about and it wasn't long before she was breaking down in uncontrollable sobs.

The sight of her in such agony actually broke his heart; he couldn't bear to see her falling apart like this when for all the months he'd known her, she had been so strong.

Pulling her close, he pressed his cheek against hers and spoke softly into her ear. "Clarke, listen to me. Please. You are so strong, Clarke. Stronger than anyone I know. I know you have overcome insurmountable odds, and I know you can – "

"But I can't lose you…" she whimpered brokenly and the Azgeda King closed his eyes and buried his face against her cheek. Her cries tore wretchedly at his heart and he sighed in heavy defeat. "Why must you do this to me now, Woman?" he whispered thickly. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd cried; was he a child? Perhaps when he was just a baby? Regardless of if or when, Clarke was making it exceedingly difficult for him to maintain his control in this moment.

"I was resolved to never let you close, yet – it seems I've lost to you – again. Damn you, Wanheda…"

Turning her in his arms, he gave her no opportunity to speak before cradling her face in his hands and pressing his mouth to hers.

Clarke was left stunned and breathless only for a moment, before she was pressing back just as firmly, fingers clinging desperately to the collar of his jacket as she feverishly kissed him back.

He responded in kind. Tangling his fingers in her long blonde hair and yanking her head back so he could deepen the kiss. His mouth was harsh and unforgiving on hers but she embraced it, knowing it was a reflection of what he felt for her.

When his tongue swept passed the seam of her lips, her body quaked and her legs gave way.

He caught her easily, holding her flush against him as he feasted upon her lips, groaning in shameless ecstasy – she tasted of honey and rain – an odd combination that had just become his most favorite.

Then, there was a knock at the door and the couple broke apart only scant inches.

"Enter, Elrick."

"Forgive me, Haihefa…but the Council cannot wait. The conclave must commence."

Roan spared him a curt nod before turning his attention back to Clarke. He smoothed the hair away from her face and eyes, simultaneously wiping away any evidence of tears with the pads of his thumbs. "Sen in gon ai, ai hainofi (Listen to me, my princess)."

"You have to let me go."

Fear gripped her and she clung to him yet again, "N-No, no, no, no, Roan please," she protested arduously, but he silenced her with a finger to her lips. "Listen. Clarke, you have to – let me go. You have to trust me. If there was ever a time in your life to just trust me. Blindly. This is that time." His persistence was wearing her down even though the tears had begun to return.

"Trust me, Hainofi." He demanded firmly.

"There is a word in your language – called 'love'. The word or phrase in Azgedasleng is 'Hod in' to put it in simpler terms, it directly means 'bottomless heart' or some say 'a soul withholding nothing.'"

His blue eyes found hers and he cupped her cheek. "Trust me in this, if you can. Trust that my heart – is a depth for you, without end. Can you?"

It was hardly the conventional kind of confession; his words were so simple, yet the feeling behind them and the depth of passion in his eyes as he spoke – it stole her breath away. She didn't want to let him go – even still. But something in her heart knew that there was no choice and she had to let this go and trust him to bring this fight to it's end. So she would trust him, come what may.

Lifting her chin, she swallowed back her tears and looked him squarely in the eye. "I trust you." She breathed.

There was a small glimmer of a smile behind his eyes – and then he dropped one final kiss to her forehead, before he was gone.

"Elrick, protect Wanheda. She is not to leave your sight." He ordered sharply.

His guard bowed respectfully. "Yes, Heiheda."

Only when he'd vanished from sight, did Clarke allow the tears to fall. She fell apart and crumbled to the floor.

(TBC in Hainofi, Part II)

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A/N: Don't really know where I'm going with this but just moving with the flow.