Chapter 4

Thank you to my SilverDoe14!

Lexa didn't cry when she was told of her uncle's death. She had merely nodded, acknowledging the warrior's words, and sent him away. The news had saddened her, but she had only ever met him twice and that had been a long time ago. Both times had been before Lexa turned 5, the age she was taken from her family and sent to train with the other night-bloods. He had been kind, but quiet; much like Lexa's father.

She can't afford to seem weak, and shedding tears over a near stranger would certainly give her warriors that impression. She's not heartless, though, as she knows many people seem to think. No, her heart is most definitely there and it holds the scars of past pain and losses.

The parents she left behind, that were killed in battle soon after her departure. Costia, the woman who had stolen her heart despite her reluctance to give it away. Anya, the mentor who helped shape her into the woman she is today. Yes, Lexa has a heart and it has known great pain.

It is open to even more pain now. She watches Clarke purposely avoid her gaze as Clarke joins Lexa and her warriors at the edge of the village. Clarke looks cleaner now, and her head has a fresh bandage, but Lexa notices how tired she still looks. Lexa had heard that Storm offered her a sleeping aid last night, but Clarke had refused.

Lexa isn't surprised. Clarke is the most stubborn young woman Lexa has ever met, and it's something she usually enjoyed about her personality. Not right now, though. Right now, it's awful.

Lexa stands rigidly, her hands clasped behind her back, gazing at Clarke as she mounts her horse. Lexa doesn't miss the fact that, as soon as Clarke is situated on the horse, her arms shoot out to pull the child from Storm's arms. Clarke can claim otherwise until she is blue in the face, but Lexa knows Clarke cares for the child. Lexa can understand why Clarke would hide her feelings for Willow, though. Lexa does the same thing when it comes to feelings for Clarke. Although, the sideways glances from Indra always told Lexa that she wasn't hiding it as well as she thought.

"Heda?" Indra moves to stand in front of her commander, dipping her head to show respect. "I sent two riders ahead as you requested."

"Good. Mochof, Indra," Lexa says, gratefully. "Is everyone else ready to leave?"

"Sha, Heda," Indra nods.

"It is time then," Lexa says. Lexa leads Indra to their horses, her head held high even when Clarke shoots her a disgruntled look. She gracefully mounts her horse, her eyes fixed straight ahead. A simple nod tells her warriors that she is ready to leave, and they are quick to comply. Lexa sighs softly. They are 2 days from Polis and she is impatient to get home. Her time away from the capital always comes with limited rest, and this trip is taking its toll on her body.

The beginning of their journey is relaxing, as Lexa usually found it to be. The steady, calming, swaying movement from the horse beneath her always made Lexa feel calm and centered. In these moments, travelling between her duties, Lexa always feels freer than she actually is; as though she's taking a break from her role as commander. A break from her duties doesn't actually exist, of course, but Lexa enjoys these calm moments as much as she can.

Even after several hours on top of her white steed, Lexa's mood doesn't drop. Nor do her eyes leave the back of Clarke's head. Lexa has been watching Clarke for most of the ride, wondering what Clarke is thinking about and worrying about her health. The bandage on the back of Clarke's head is clearly visible, and Lexa wishes she could personally check on Clarke's wellbeing. She doesn't, though. Clarke wishes for her to stay away, and Lexa plans on honoring those wishes. No matter how much pain this causes her.

That doesn't mean Lexa hasn't been keeping an eye on Clarke, though. She had ordered Storm to inform her if Clarke suffered from any side effects from her injury, and Lexa has been keeping an eye on Clarke herself, too. From a distance, of course. Clarke seems fatigued, but otherwise okay.

Lexa has spent the first part of the journey thinking about Clarke, and she wonders if Clarke has been thinking about her, too. No...Lexa shakes that thought from her head. She can't afford to think like that. She is Heda, she shouldn't be focusing her thoughts on the girl from the sky. Her thoughts should be trained on how she will keep her people safe from the impending threat from Azgeda.

Lexa stiffens her spine to stifle the shiver that threatens to flow through her at the mere thought of the ice nation. The whispers of their most recent threat had been the most worrisome of all of Queen Nia's plans. Lexa still doesn't understand how Nia learned of her remaining family, but she swears to herself that she will punish those who are responsible.

Yes. Whoever told Queen Nia about her uncle and his family will suffer greatly. As will the people who had sold Nia the story of Clarke's power as Wanheda. Lexa knows that Clarke holds no power, but she has heard the whispered rumors that had spread amongst her people. They believe that Clarke is the commander of death, but Lexa knows differently.

She also knows that Clarke detests being known as Wanheda. Clarke has killed, yes, but only when it had been necessary; and she still suffers from the guilt of those deaths. Clarke should not be known as the commander of death, but as the commander of life.

One of Lexa's first experiences of Clarke had been when Clarke begged for Finn's life, and then for peace. In Lexa's opinion, Clarke being tied to so much death is a massive insult. The Clarke she knows is invested in saving people, not in killing them. The deaths Clarke had been involved in had come from a lack of choice and, as Lexa knows, comes from her fault rather than Clarke's.

Lexa's warriors, who Clarke had burned alive, had died because Clarke had no choice but to kill the people trying to kill her. The people from the mountain, who died due to radiation, had died because Clarke needed to save her own people. Finn, who had died by Clarke's hand, had died to save him from suffering. Yes, Clarke has killed, but never because she wanted to.

Lexa is dragged from her thoughts when she hears her baby cousin cry, and the tiniest of smiles decorates her lips when she hears Clarke comfort the child. This is the Clarke Lexa knows, the Clarke that wishes only to soothe pain and suffering. This isn't Wanheda, this is Clarke; the young woman who wants nothing more than peace.

"Heda, are you okay?" Lexa spares Indra a glance and offers her a small nod, but otherwise doesn't reply. She does not wish her warriors to know of her weaknesses. It is nothing to do with them. What their Heda says goes. No matter what the reasons behind her orders are.

Lexa actively ignores Indra and the rest of her warriors as the journey continues. She focuses all of her attention on Clarke and the baby. It is, after all, Lexa's warriors' jobs to look out for threats. Lexa is content watching Clarke whisper to the child strapped to her chest, her heart warming as she hears the soft coos.

As the hours silently pass by, Lexa doesn't miss Clarke's growing discomfort. It's obvious that Clarke is unused to riding horses and that she is in pain. That, coupled with carrying the child's weight, must make Clarke's body ache. Lexa is impressed that Clarke is able to suffer so quietly, without complaint. Impressed, but not surprised.

Lexa estimates that there is, perhaps, still an hour or so until the light begins to fade. Usually, she would wait until the last possible moment to stop for the evening, but not tonight. Tonight she'll stop early. Not for Clarke's benefit, though. No, of course not. Most definitely not.

...

Clarke frowns when she notices the warriors ahead of her come to a stop, her furrowed brow digging future wrinkles into her skin. She doesn't understand why they have stopped and she is irritated, but at the same time she is relieved. Her legs and ass throb more than they had after her first horse ride, and her back aches from Willow's weight.

The thought of resting is comforting, but it also makes her want to cry. The more they stop, the longer the journey to Polis takes. Her heart sinks ever so slightly as she watches Storm dismount from his horse, realizing that they are in fact most definitely stopping.

Storm walks towards her, holding out his arms for Willow, and Clarke knows what is expected from her. She silently passes Willow to Storm and jumps down from her horse, stretching out her aching limbs as soon as she touches the ground. As much as Clarke wishes they would continue their journey and get to Polis as soon as possible, it's nice to receive a break from riding.

Clarke is quick to take Willow back into her arms and she gently jiggles the baby, calming her. Willow seems to be instantly calmed as soon as she is in Clarke's arms, a fact that isn't missed by the people near them. Especially Lexa.

Clarke can feel Lexa's eyes on her, just like she had for the entire journey, but she actively ignores the attention. She doesn't want to see Lexa right now, nor talk to her. Hell, she doesn't even want to think about Lexa.

"You should rest." Clarke turns to face the person who spoke, surprised to see Ash standing behind her. "It will take us a while to set up camp," Ash says, handing Clarke a blanket. Clarke nods, studying the man in front of her.

"Thank you." Ash gives her a stiff nod before turning on his heel, not sparing her another glance as he leaves to help his people. "Well, that was strange," Clarke murmurs to Willow. Green eyes stare back at her, seemingly unfazed about the weird interaction. Clarke stares back at Willow for a moment, wondering how she hadn't noticed the child's resemblance to Lexa. Perhaps her brain just didn't want to notice this.

Clarke uses her free hand to throw the blanket around her shoulders. She wraps it around herself and Willow, choosing to sit down and lean against a nearby tree. At least the ground seems to be pretty dry now. Clarke's hand comes to rest on the back of Willow's head, her fingers stroking through the dark curls. Willow's presence comforts her, and it's obvious that her presence comforts Willow, too.

Clarke never expected to bond with Willow as quickly as she has, but she is glad that it happened. Willow's warm body against Clarke's is a reminder that there is still some good in this world. This innocent, beautiful child may just repair the damage that recent events have done to her heart. Perhaps, in time, Clarke will begin to heal.

"Where do you go?" Clarke's gaze snaps up to meet Storm's concerned eyes. She didn't even hear him approach them. His expression is a mixture of worry and curiosity.

"What do you mean?" Clarke asks him, frowning slightly as Storm slumps downwards to sit opposite herself and Willow.

"Where do you go?" he repeats. "You are with us, but every so often it seems like your mind is not," Storm says. "One minute you are here, and the next you are lost in thought." Clarke studies Storm carefully, seeing in his eyes that he has no ulterior motives. He's just concerned.

"I was just thinking," Clarke tells him, her voice hushed. "So much has happened," she says, surprising herself. Clarke has longed for someone to talk to about the thing she has done, but she never expected that Storm, one of Lexa's warriors, would be the person she could open up to. "There's so much blood on my hands...I see it every time I fall asleep."

Storm nods. He understands. He too has had to end lives when he didn't want to. He has heard many stories about Clarke, about the great Wanheda, and he has even witnessed her in action. He's not surprised by her guilt.

"I just wanted peace," Clarke whispers. "I didn't want anyone else to lose their lives, but he didn't give me a choice. Cage... he was going to kill my people...my mom." Clarke stops herself then. It hurts too much to talk about the mountain just yet.

"We are not so different, Clarke," Storm says. "Killing others is not something we wish to do. It is something that it sometimes necessary. The mountain has fallen, and it needed to. Allowing them to live would be the same as casting a death sentence upon your people. You should remember that." Storm's voice is softer than Clarke has ever heard, and there is sorrow in his dark eyes.

Understanding hits her like a bolt of lightning. Lexa's deal with the mountain men, whilst heart breaking to Clarke, had been necessary. Lexa had sacrificed the sky people to ensure the safety of her own people, just like Clarke had sacrificed the innocents in the mountain for the same reason.

It still doesn't make Lexa's betrayal hurt less, though. Like Jasper, Clarke still feels wounded by the decisions made by someone she trusted. Even though she understands, the wound still feels raw.

"You have left again." Storm sounds amused, but Clarke cannot bring herself to smile. "Come on, the camp is ready. You should rest properly, otherwise you will not heal."

"Where are your tents?" Clarke asks Storm, noticing that only one small tent has been erected in the small clearing.

"We are stopping only until dawn," Storm says. "We will rest outside, beside the fire. We sleep in shifts during short stops," he explains. Clarke nods. There really would be no point erecting all of the tents for such a short space of time. Even Lexa's large tent hasn't been brought out.

It does concern her, though, that Willow seems to be expected to rest outside; exposed to the elements. Surely they would understand that a baby would need shelter. Looking down at the baby strapped to her chest, Clarke sighs softly.

"What about Willow?" Clarke asks, her eyes lifting to meet Storm's gaze.

"You should not think so little of us, Clarke," Storm says, disappointment evident in his tone. It's clear to Clarke that she has offended him. "We would not wish for a child to sleep outside in the cold."

"I'm sorry." Clarke feels guilty, a feeling she is all too used to. "I'm just concerned. There's only one tent, and I assumed it would be for Lexa." Storm nods, accepting her apology and explanation.

"Willow will sleep in Heda's tent," Storm says. "As will you." Clarke pauses, her brow furrowing as she shakes her head.

"Willow will sleep in the tent. I'll sleep outside," Clarke says firmly. There's no chance in hell she's going to share a confined space with Lexa. It's bad enough that she is always in the commander's presence, sharing a sleeping area would be too much for her.

"Heda does not wish for you to be out in the open," Storm tells her. "It would be a huge risk. I'm sorry, Clarke, but you and Willow will be resting in Heda's tent."

It is obvious, from his expression, that Storm does not enjoy forcing Clarke into this situation. That doesn't make Clarke feel any better about it, though. Whether he enjoys it or not, Clarke still has to follow these orders, and that leaves a bitter taste in her mouth.

...

Lexa rolls her eyes when she hears Clarke huff for the 5th time in as many minutes. There's a partition between them in the small tent, but it offers very little privacy and distance. Lexa is all too aware that Clarke is lying just a mere few feet from her. She's sure that Clarke is aware of this, too. The constant huffing tells her that.

Lexa shifts on her cot, staring at the shadows the candles cast on the skin of the tent. Usually she could fall asleep very easily on journeys, the sounds of the forest acting like a lullaby. Not tonight, though. Not with Clarke so close. There's another huff, and Lexa sighs.

"You should sleep, Clarke." There's no response from Clarke, and Lexa isn't surprised. The only sound coming from the other side of the tent is soft whimpers from Willow. "Is she okay?" Lexa asks.

"Yes." Clarke's tone is clipped; cold.

Lexa sets her jaw, her teeth grinding together. She cannot understand how someone so mature, who has been through so much, could be so petulant. Lexa isn't asking Clarke to be her friend, or even to participate in small talk. She's merely hoping for a civil response to a simple question.

"She sounds upset," Lexa says. There's a sigh from the other side of the partition, and Lexa hears Clarke's cot creak as she moves.

"I think she's hungry," Clarke says, "but she won't eat." At this, Lexa stands, ducking her head slightly in the smaller than usual tent.

"I'm going to join you, Clarke." Lexa's voice is gentle, but it's not a request. As much as Lexa wants to respect Clarke's wish for space, this is her tent and the child is her responsibility. Lexa is merely giving chance a moment to ensure she is decent before she pulls the partition back.

"Okay."

Lexa pulls the cloth back and silently steps into Clarke's side of the tent, her eyes immediately lands on Clarke. Specifically, on her legs. Clarke's trousers are still lying on the floor, and she is sitting on the cot dressed only in her shorts and long sleeved t-shirt. Lexa's eyes linger on Clarke's legs, her nostrils flaring ever so slightly at the dark bruises that paint her pale skin.

Lexa realizes she is staring, and immediately turns her focus to the child on Clarke's lap. The child's wet eyes cause Lexa's chest to painfully clench and she takes a few steps forward, ensuring her movements aren't too sudden. Lexa doesn't want to alarm the child. Lexa notices the baby's food is mostly untouched, and she doesn't blame her. It doesn't look appealing at all.

"Have you tried the milk instead?" Lexa asks, kneeling down in front of Clarke's lap so that she's at eye level with Willow.

"Not yet," Clarke says, not quite meeting Lexa's gaze. Her eyes seem to be focused on the side of Lexa's head instead. "The lessons I had on the ark said babies couldn't drink milk from an animal until they reached a certain age." Lexa smiles gently at this.

"You forget that children have been raised on the ground during the whole time your people were in the sky," Lexa says, keeping her tone light. She is careful to not sound condescending. "Willow's stomach will be used to this milk." Lexa doesn't miss Clarke's surprised expression at the use of Willow's name. Lexa, too, is surprised, but she doesn't know her birth name. Using the name Clarke gave to her will be better than just referring to her as 'the child'. Besides, Lexa likes the name Clarke chose. It sounds strong and beautiful.

"I didn't know," Clarke says, her voice quiet. She's embarrassed.

"You had no reason to, Clarke," Lexa reassures her. "Here," Lexa hands Clarke the bottle of milk from the floor, "try."

Clarke is hesitant, but she takes the bottle from Lexa anyway. Lexa watches, keeping her features impassive, as Clarke holds the bottle to Willow's lips. Clarke positively beams when Willow begins to greedily guzzle the milk, and Lexa feels her own smile tug at her lips.

"Goat's milk," Lexa says. Clarke nods, her features suddenly sober. Lexa frowns, confused as to why Clarke's mood has changed so quickly. Clarke is staring down at her knee and Lexa follows her gaze...oh. Lexa snatches her hand from Clarke's leg. She didn't even realize she had allowed her hand to rest there.

Lexa's breath catches in her throat, and she refuses to make eye contact. She rises to her feet, attempting to ignore her hammering pulse. Lexa mentally curses herself for ruining their first civil conversation since the mountain. There had almost been a break through...almost.

"Good night, Clarke." Clarke sighs softly as Lexa swiftly leaves, the cloth divider suddenly falling back into place. Clarke hears Lexa slump down onto her cot, and she frowns. She didn't mean to upset Lexa, she had just been startled by the touch. Lexa's hand had been so gentle, her entire demeanor relaxed around herself and Willow.

She had, of course, seen this version of Lexa before, but it was in rare moments. Clarke did not expect to see that tonight, not after spitting in Lexa's face and screaming abuse in her direction. She realizes that Lexa accepts her anger. Understands it. Despite Lexa receiving awful news, she had still seemed so composed. At least, that's what Clarke had thought. Clearly she had been wrong. She sighs again.

"Lexa?" There's a long silence, and Clarke isn't sure if a response will come. But it does. Of course it does; it's Lexa.

"Yes, Clarke?"

"I'm sorry about your family," Clarke says, her tone soft. The silence that follows is much more drawn out this time. Clarke has finished feeding Willow and is in the process of winding her by the time Lexa speaks again.

"Take good care of her, Clarke. She is all I have."

Clarke is sure she can feel her heart breaking in her chest. She doesn't think she has ever heard a sadder statement, and she has never heard Lexa sound so small and vulnerable. Clarke hates it...hates hearing Lexa sound that way, but the sudden lump in her throat stops her from responding.

Clarke wishes their relationship was more straight forward, and wishes that she could trust Lexa. Perhaps, some day, Clarke will be able to tell Lexa how she feels. Yes, perhaps some day Lexa will know that Willow isn't all that she has.

If you have any questions - MinionKomSkaikru on Tumblr :)