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"So, the first Commander was officially a Sky Person? Is that what we're saying?" Octavia questions again, crossing her arms and shifting her focus between the two women.
"Mhm," Clarke hums back and the Commander nods, eyeing the Natblidas sparring in pairs on the training grounds.
"And Becca, this first Commander, is the one responsible for the bombs that went off? And created this?" Octavia's cheeks scrunch up and she circles her head at their surrounds. Surroundings that were destroyed during the apocalypse then transformed into the world that is ruled by war and survival.
For some reason, accusing Becca for this settles low into the Commander's stomach; forming an uneasiness. It also makes her want to bawl her fists, blaming Becca is nearly the equivalent of blaming her for the bombs.
"Indirectly her fault," Clarke corrects her. "It was that AI she built, it went rogue and it was ultimately out of her control."
AI. There is that word again, she blinks down at the dirt beneath her boots. When she looks back up, Lincoln is echoing her expression. His dark eyes glazed over, blinking rapidly with his thin eyebrows scrunched deeply together.
"AI…" Being more brave than her, Lincoln pronounces the letters deliberately and distinctly. "What is that?
Clarke and Octavia share a long look, their lips slightly parted. Both equally confused on how to explain such a foreign concept.
"It's…" Clarke starts, rubbing the side of her neck, at a loss for an explanation. "A very advanced form of technology. It would be similar to a computer thi-." The eyes of the two grounders are still glazed over, completely lost in her words. This would be an excellent time to have Raven or Sinclair around to explain, technology is not exactly Clarke's area of expertise. "It would be similar to a machine, like the Mountain Men had, that could think on its own and make decisions."
How is that possible? What are these machines? The Commander hates not understanding, that is why they feared the Mountain Men. Their technology was far superior and now Skaikru's technology is much more advanced than that even. The jumbles of letters and words make little sense. It's aggravating but Lincoln holds the same expression that he had before, reminding the Commander that she is not alone in her perplexity.
Octavia is smirking at the puzzled looks on their faces and Clarke grins at them with a little amusement too but a touch of sympathy. "Maybe when this is all over, I will get Raven to properly explain this to you. I'm a healer, this not exactly my area of expertise. She would be able to explain it you better."
"I would like that, Clarke. Thank you." Lexa nods.
"Is all of this going to be taught to the Natblidas?" Octavia's eyes flicker away from Lincoln to concentrate on the Commander.
"Yes, I was going to have Clarke teach them about Becca and Polaris. They will be the first to know the true history of our people."
"If you want, you can help me, Octavia. You did use to be a Sky Person and the Natblidas," Clarke's hand gestures at the group of tiring young children, "they have gotten to know you, they will appreciate your teachings too."
For a moment, Octavia stares at her with a contemplative expression. Her eyes quickly flicker to Lincoln then back to Clarke, "I suppose I could help the princess out."
"Good," Clarke attempts to smile after hearing that nickname, the condescending one.
A wind gusting through the trees, chills the air around them as the sun slowly falls in the sky. Lincoln wraps an arm around Octavia's shoulders, tugging her close. Next to Lexa, Clarke has shoved her hands into her jacket pockets and is hugging her elbows close to her sides. There is a small pang of jealousy in Lexa's chest as Lincoln and Octavia hold each other closer. She wishes that she could envelop Clarke in her arms like that too, in public, and not have to worry of consequences. Maybe someday…
"In celebration of this new discovery, let us dine with the Natblidas?" The Commander proposes, aware of the ever cooling air and the deceleration of training swords in her view.
The other three nod without a second though. Lincoln releases Octavia to approach the edge of the dirt training grounds, "Natblidas!" He claps with his bellowing voice to stop the clashing of swords and sticks. Within seconds, all eyes are on him. "Training is over for today, so you can dine with your Heda and I."
Excited smiles spread across dirty and sweaty faces as they travel together off the grounds. Quiet giggles and young voices murmur behind them as the four of them lead the Natblidas into the tower.
Two hours later, Lexa retires to Clarke's bedroom, that is being illuminated by the nearly full moon in the sky and the scattered candles.
"The Natblidas are a cute group of kids," Clarke comments as she relights various candles that have burned out since this afternoon.
Cute is not a word that Heda would describe her Natblidas. "They are very well trained and disciplined, ready to take on being Heda upon my death." She settles on one of the chairs once again, opting not to sit on the bed with assumptions. Her fingers work through the braids still in her hair, one of the last signatures of Heda she still wears. Prior to dinner, she had already removed the Heda outfit to leave her in midnight blue pants and a comfortable shadow grey top.
Clarke glares at her intently, through narrowed eyes and down her nose. "What have I said about you talking about your death?" The question is posed more lighthearted than the heaviness weighing down her heart.
A weak smile ticks up on Lexa's lips, watching as Clarke ambles towards her after lighting the last burnt out candle. Clarke kneels down on the chair behind her, slipping her fingers into her loose braids to take over for Lexa's stalled hands.
"Why do they call you princess?" Lexa asks, neatly folding her hands in her lap.
Out of Lexa's mouth, it doesn't sound so condescending. Almost sweet. Lexa can make anything sound endearing when directed towards her, even Wanheda doesn't sound like the Commander of Death coming from her. "It's just a stupid nickname that the hundred call me."
"You don't like it." After hearing the subtle change in Clarke's breathing and the murmur in her voice, Lexa doesn't have to ask.
"They gave me that name because they thought I was privileged because my mom was involved with the hundred that were sent down here." Her fingers unweave the last braid, removing the small bead and placing it on the nearest table.
"You will always be just Clarke to me," Lexa whispers, turning her head back ever so slightly as Clarke's fingers brush through some of the tangles on the back of her head.
The way that Lexa pronounces Clarke will always be her favorite. Once her hair is tangle free and Clarke's hands drop away, Lexa sweeps her hair over her right shoulder, revealing the tattoo on the back of her neck.
"The sacred symbol of the Commander," Clarke's finger traces along the infinity loops. "I haven't seen this one before. Do you have any more tattoos that I don't know about?"
The electrifying touch of Clarke's fingers buzzes through every inch of her skin. Thankfully that one doesn't need a further explanation, not tonight anyways. "No, that's it." Lexa cranes her head back, her fingers combing the ends of her hair.
Their eyes flutter to each other's lips and lean in to meet each other in the middle. Upon the first touch, their lips move deliberately in sync, gently brushing each lip together. Clarke gradually adds pressure, feeling the vibration of a sharp inhale from Lexa. To match the increasing pace, Lexa only allows their lips to part for half a second to twist and face Clarke. A hand reaches up to grip the back of Lexa's neck as tongues tease against lower lips. Soft groans bounce in each other's mouths when their tongues finally meet. Pushing deep and tangling together.
Unable to ignore her pulsating desire anymore, Clarke's hands dive to the hem of Lexa's top to tug it up over body. A sharp pain stabs her collarbone when she jerks her arm too hard, she bites down on her lip to silence a grunt. As soon as her tops hits the ground, Lexa's lips magnetize back to Clarke's and Clarke's hands smooth over Lexa's bare shoulders.
Unlike their first time, Lexa regains some control over her trembling lips and her stable fingers pull the strings at the front of Clarke's shirt, untying the four cross laces. Once the fabric hangs open, Lexa pushes the shirt off Clarke's shoulders and down her arms. Her hands immediately run up Clarke's sides and over her ribs, feeling the goosebumps form under her finger tips.
When Clarke starts to lean over Lexa to push her down on the chair, Lexa holds her waist firmly and stands up. Sapphire eyes have blackened with full blown pupils smoldering with desire. Clarke's hands grasp Lexa's face as she stands up to bring their open mouths back together. The hands on Clarke's waist guide them towards the bed as they round to her back and run up to the clasp of her bra. Lexa's bra is quick to follow right before Clarke's knees hit the side of the bed and Clarke places her left arm behind her to ease them down. Below Lexa, Clarke jiggles her ankles to try to kick her boots off, bumping the side of Lexa's leg. Lexa smirks against Clarke's lips and slides off the bed to pull the boots off herself then fumbles with the straps on her boots to knock them aside.
In those brief seconds apart, the other girl has edged to the middle of the bed to impatiently wait with hooded eyes. Lexa crawls up the bed on her hands and knees to hoover over a half-naked Clarke, her hands on either side. Her eyes instantly fall on the stitches that are covered by a smaller bandage.
"Are you sure you're okay, Clarke? I don't want to— "
Already getting desperate for the girl above her, Clarke grabs her face to crash their lips together. "Lexa, I'm fine don't worry."
Lexa's clouded desired head doesn't need any more convincing than that, she captures the intoxicating lips once more and immediately runs her tongue over her lips to deepen the kiss. Their bare skin of their upper-halves press pleasurably together when Lexa dips down into her.
When Clarke grunts unpleasantly, Lexa shoots up, her eyes frantically swarming over face. "What's wrong?"
"It's just," Clarke glances down to the weapon holsters around Lexa's thighs. An accessory that she happens to find extremely attractive.
"Oh," Lexa follows Clarke's eye line and scrambles up. "Sorry, I forgot." Her cheeks darken with a blush as she stumbles over her words and her sweaty fingers slip on the iron.
Clarke sits up to help Lexa remove the one from her other thigh, remembering how she fumbled to get them off Lexa the last time. "It's okay. They look really hot on you."
The iron clanks to the floor and Lexa stares at Clarke blankly, her eyebrows stitched together. "Attractive. They look very attractive on you." Clarke explains with a chuckle, surprising Lexa when she undoes her pants and drags the fabric down her long legs.
A heat spreads throughout her body as she kicks her pants to the side, still a little insecure and vulnerable under Clarke's gawk. Even though she has seen her completely naked two times. Clarke lies back on the bed as Lexa reaches for the button and zipper on her pants then lowers them down her legs. Before they crawl back up the bed, Clarke pinches the Heda piece from between her eyebrows and tosses it on Lexa's discarded pants.
Clarke's hands trail up from the hip bone peeking out, up Lexa's sides, feeling the muscles twitch and shudder and allows her hands come to rest on her flushed cheeks. After sharing devoted kisses and relishing in the sensation of skin pressed to skin, Lexa drops her lips to the underside of Clarke's jaw. Clarke tilts her head back for more tender firm kisses down the side of her throat. Insecurities disintegrate when Lexa feels Clarke's pulse fluttering rapidly against her lips. She breaks away from her path to brush kisses as light as feathers on the covered healing injury. Clarke lifts her head just enough to peer down at Lexa with an amorous smile then runs her fingers through the soft waves, her heart expanding in her chest. No one has made Clarke feel the fraction of love that Lexa does when they are in bed.
Before she knows it, Clarke is arching her chest into Lexa's mouth, gasping. The worship endures with open caresses down her stomach and up her thighs, wordlessly expressing the passion and adoration pouring out of Lexa's heart. Clarke's thighs shake with anticipation as those soft lips get closer and closer.
"Lexa," Clarke moans low in her throat when the flat of her tongue slowly strokes through her folds.
Lexa moves her tongue in shorter, quicker movements on her clit enticing sharper inhales and moans. As her tongue dips down to her opening to teasingly circle it, her hand smooths up the outside of Clarke's thigh and down to replace her mouth. Being almost too considerate, Lexa wipes her mouth as she slides back up Clarke's body and enters with two fingers.
"I love you," Lexa whispers, brushing their lips together.
Returning kisses becomes messy and increasingly difficult as Lexa pumps her arm quicker and her long slender fingers reach deeper. Clarke clutches into the back of her neck and shoulder to secure herself down as the heat curls at her toes and floods up her body. Walls contract around Lexa's fingers and pleasurable moans buzz against her lips. Her fingers pump slower inside to gently bring Clarke down. She places a soft kiss to the corner of Clarke's mouth and cheek as she pulls out and slinks down onto her side next to Clarke.
When her breathing returns to normal and she regains control over her muscles, Clarke nudges Lexa onto her back. She traces a finger along the woman's perfectly angled jawline as their eyes melt into each other. Their noses brush gently against each other when Clarke's lips drop down into Lexa's. One hand lightly holds the base of Clarke's skull as kiss intensifies and Lexa's right hand runs up the side of her lover's arm. Needing the feel of skin and needing her closer.
Clarke sucks a little harder on Lexa's neck this time, never too hard, but enough to feel the sharp intakes of breath shooting down her throat. As she peppers kisses along Lexa's collarbones, her left hand cups her breast. Squeezing gently then rolling it. Her lips press between her breasts and down her sternum before giving them proper attention. Sucking and rolling a hardened nipple with her mouth and tongue to trigger whines and breathy gasps. Lexa's hands grasp tighter on her head and arm, but never squeezes, as her body tingles with pleasure.
The toned muscles of her stomach flex and quiver beneath Clarke's lips, not visibly shaking like last time when her emotions and nerves fell completely out of Lexa's control. Before touching the very place that aches, Clarke teasingly runs her lips along the curve of her hip bone then finally kisses right below a swollen clit. An elongated relieved moan shakes out of Lexa's throat. The hand, that was on the back of Clarke's head, becomes restless as the tongue flickers quicker through her folds. She tries to control her lips from rocking with the movements against her; but, when the muscle presses against her opening and slips inside, her hips jerk up and whimpers.
As her tongue rolls inside, diving hard and deep enough to drive Lexa into an immersed state of bliss, Clarke's nose bumps periodically on an over sensitive clit. Her eyes open to see Lexa's abs tightening and her hand inching toward Clarke but then curling away. As if she is too shy or embarrassed to ask for Clarke's hand. If she could, Clarke would break out in a grin. Instead, she reaches for Lexa's hand, whose fingers are forced into the furs below, and laces them together.
Lexa doesn't know why she needs physical contact like that, but she does. It anchors her when she senses herself losing control to the pleasure and emotions coursing from her toes to her neck. An uncontrollable moan bellows from her chest when Clarke curls her tongue and her nose bumps her bundle of nerves simultaneously that hurls her over the edge. She squeezes the knuckles beneath her fingers as lights spark under her closed eyes and a heat rushes up.
Clarke moves back up Lexa's body to peck her lips tenderly. "I love you too." She whispers into her ear. To give Lexa room to recover, Clarke wiggles under the sheets and furs then brushes stray hairs out of the green eyes gazing lazily at her.
This isn't rushed. Not like last time when they both knew that Clarke had limited time in bed. Gradually, her breathing returns to normal and Lexa lifts up to slink under the sheets. Clarke's arm circles around her waist, pulling her closer. Lexa snuggles her head an inch from Clarke's, her fingers brushing back over the bandage.
"I can get the stitches out tomorrow probably. I'm going to ask a healer to do it since I shouldn't do it myself." Clarke answers the silent question that the fingers are asking.
Lexa nods, draping her arm around Clarke's waist; mirroring her position. "Good. That might not be wise. We will send for a healer whenever you are ready."
"How do we always end up in my bed?" A playful smile curls on Clarke's lips and her eyebrows raise.
"Do you not like your bed, Clarke? Because I quite like it."
Her eyes roll at the smirk on Lexa's face. Of course she likes it, it's bigger and comfier than anything she has ever seen. "I like my bed, Lexa. And I can see that you do too." The growing smirk is accompanied by a light blush tinging the woman's cheeks.
For a moment, Lexa shyly blinks her eyes down. "I reckon that I come here to spend more time with you then we end up here."
"Not that I could ever argue with that, especially when I have you like this." Clarke dips her eyes down the length over Lexa's naked body under the covers. Then draws her closer, their foreheads pressing together.
In that moment, Lexa swears that she's floating. "Or you simply seduce me into bed."
"I don't have to seduce you and you know that," Clarke retorts that earns a rare giggle from the girl next to her.
"Clarke?" A voice statics through the radio startling the two women.
As grateful as she is to hear her mom's voice again, the timing is not appreciated. "Hold on," Clarke grumbles to Lexa, the cool air of her room stings her skin, eyeing her clothes scattered across the room.
"Are you there, Clarke?" Her mom demands a little more urgently this time.
Eventually, Clarke opts to steal the fur covers off the bed and wrap it around her goosebump ridden body. Lexa smiles when Clarke mumbles an apology, propping herself up on her right hand to admire the fur enveloped girl padding over to the radio.
"Yes, mom. Sorry, I'm here." Clarke squeezes the radio in one hand and clutches the furs around her with the other.
"Thank god," her mom groans with relief. "I don't have much time, but I think Pike is going to try to attack the army."
"What?" Her heart stops, her eyes dart up to see Lexa's eyes widen and hop out of bed.
"I heard him talking with Bellamy, Hannah and the others on his side. I don't know what to do Clarke."
The silver grey sheet is wrapped around Lexa's body and the remaining fabric drags on the floor behind her as she joins Clarke. Her jaw clenched and muscles much stiffer than there were only minutes ago. The couple share a weighted look, aware of the potential damage that it could inflict. Another peaceful moment together shattered due to their people.
Aware of Lexa's obligations as Commander, Clarke simply nods and hands the woman the speaker. "I will warn the army of a possible attack. Blood will only be spilled if Pike's army attacks."
"Commander, I did not realize you were there." Both women blush at Abby's words, Lexa squirms uncomfortably against the sheets barely covering her body. She is never this exposed when attempting to act as Heda. "I know you must be at the end of your patience with my people and there will be nothing that we can do to fix this. Please know that I am doing everything I can to stop those people."
The Commander closes her eyes as she inhales deeply in thought, nodding her head once. "I know, Abby. As Commander, I have done what I can to enforce blood must not have blood. However, I cannot let Pike spill the blood of any more of my people. For those in disagreement of Pike, hide and be unarmed. If war happens, I will do everything in my power to spare the supporters of the Coalition."
Tears are brimming in Clarke's eyes, more blood will most likely will be spilled because of Skaikru. The blood of people she considers and use to consider friends and her people. Her mom. Kane. Bellamy at the forefront next to Pike. She bites her lip and stares away from Lexa.
"Thank you, Commander. Again, I'm sorry. I know how hard you and Clarke worked for Skaikru."
The urge to shout and bawl her hands into fists is overwhelming until Lexa looks at Clarke's defeated face. Blue eyes shimmering, her lips turned down. They both strive for peace and jus nou drein jus daun but they are knocked down at every attempt.
"Clarke?" Her mom asks when the silence continues to stretch, Lexa hands the speaker back to Clarke then stands to gather her clothing.
"Yes, mom?"
"I need to go. I love you. Stay safe, please."
The despondency in her mom's voice drives a few tears to leak out of her eyes, "You're the one that needs to stay safe. I love you too, mom."
"May we meet again," Abby's voice falters over the words as the line goes dead.
The speaker drops from Clarke's hand as a couple more tears escape her eyes, she wipes her palm over her face then stands. Lexa is practically fully dressed, only her abandoned top by the chair remains. Before picking it up, she walks over to Clarke to swipe her thumb over her cheek.
"I'm sorry about them," Clarke whispers, unable to meet her eyes.
Lexa sighs, "It's not your fault. Don't be sorry." Her hand drifts away from Clarke's cheek so she can pick up her top and stretch it over her head.
It is her fault though. The reflexive voice, that she has been trying to fight, criticizes her again. Clarke's eyes rake over the eloquent tattoo on Lexa's back and the soft contours of her defined muscles. She can't focus on that. Not right now.
"What now?" Clarke questions, grabbing her own pants that are sprawled on the ground near the bed.
Lexa finishes adjusting her top then picks up Clarke's top from the floor to bring it to her. "I will send a rider to notify the army that is there in case that Pike moves faster. Right now, I must call the ambassadors and generals to the war room to plan our defense."
Hearing defense instead of attack is unexpectedly comforting to Clarke, to her that equates to less bloodshed. On both ends, hopefully. Clarke snaps the bra straps over her shoulders and Lexa clasps it for her in the back. "Okay, I will finish getting dressed and I will be there."
"Clarke…" Lexa shakes her head. "You don't need to, you shouldn't. It's— "
"The people, who are attacking aren't my people." Clarke turns to stare at Lexa fiercely. "And they have guns. I will be of more help, Lexa."
This will not hold well with the Ambassadors and Generals; the news of a possible impending attack from Skaikru and Clarke being present will set off frustration directed at her. The worst case scenarios flash in her head. It takes a moment for Lexa to realize she's being too over protective right now and that Clarke had a valid point. "Okay. Collect Lincoln and Octavia on your way. I will meet you there," she kisses Clarke's cheek before hurrying out of the bedroom.
A map of the blockade and Arkadia is sprawled across the wooden table and the Commander is hunched over it with Indra beside her. Mapping out key locations to hide or gather. The ambassadors and generals have begun arriving, all muttering and hissing questions or 'I knew this would happen.'
"Do we know what direction they will attack us from?" Indra probes gruffly, glimpsing up at the Commander but then back to the ink on the map.
The Commander's fingers compress harder against the table and she shakes her head. "No, we have to be prepared for all possibilities."
"Ai biya yu disha na kom au," Farho storms in with his finger pointing at the Commander and the Azgeda General behind him. "We all did. What now Heda?"
His words don't faze her, but she stiffens up her bent over spine and glowers at the two men. "Defend ourselves. Blood will not be spilled without a fight."
"A fight that should have happened once they spilled our blood the first time." He slams a fist on the table, his yellowing teeth barred against his bottom lip.
Kicking Farho off her balcony too is a thought that often crosses her mind. Right now, she doesn't have time for this. A war needs to be planned.
"You will respect your Heda." Indra growls next to her, glaring up from the map.
The ambassador huffs disgruntled and mutters under his breath to the general next to him, who sneers and snickers.
"Skaikru weapons, Heda." The Sangeakru General states diplomatically.
As if on cue, Clarke strides into the War Room with Lincoln and Octavia, trailed by several remaining clan ambassadors and generals. The room falls silent as the eyes glue to Clarke and linger warily on Octavia.
"Wanheda," the Azgeda spins around, slithering a few inches towards her. Lexa seethes inside, not allowing it to break through her Heda mask. Instead, she glares at the back of his head and with her hand gripping the sword hooked into her belt.
Her first instinct is to stumble back under the man's blaring glare but she puffs her chest out and stares back confidently. Next to Clarke, Lincoln and Octavia have their stances ready and stepped closer.
"Wanheda has no place here. Her people attack us." He peers over Lincoln and Octavia protectively hoovering near Clarke, his lip snarls then he snaps back to the Commander. "We have every reason to attack her right now!" Others in the room nod and mumble in agreement, warily observing the interaction.
Lincoln steps between Clarke and the ambassador as a precaution. The gun tucked into Clarke's jacket burns into her skin, but she doesn't dare reach for it.
"Jomp em op en yu jomp ai op!" The Commander's voice roars, her eyes cutting through those surrounding the table. "Wanheda is here to help us, she does not agree with the army that is choosing to attack our people. However, they have guns and she has the knowledge to help."
It takes a couple of long seconds for the ambassador to consider the Commander's words, scowling at Clarke with distrusting eyes. He turns back to the table, his jaw skewed to the side, displeased but accepting. The Commander scans around the table, a majority of the clans seem compliant, presumably frightened by battling against guns. A couple wear a disgruntled face, not wanting anything to do with Skaikru.
The Commander lands back on tentative blue orbs, giving her a nod to stand with her. Lincoln and Octavia walk close on her heels as Clarke rounds the table to the Commander's side. Unlike the first time she commanded a room with Lexa, she is not viewed as an ally but as an enemy. An enemy, who has repeatedly slaughter their people and is on the verge of another war with them again. Her hands sweat at the many pairs of intimidating eyes staring at her.
"The army that is planning to attack is Pike's army, the same one that attacked the peaceful army about two weeks ago. I don't know how many march with him but I do know that they have guns and that will give them the advantage."
"How do we stand a chance against their weapons? They effortlessly killed an army of three hundred!" Ni, the Delphi ambassador, exclaims with distress rather than infuriation.
"They attacked us in our sleep, like the cowards that they are." Indra hisses on the other side of the Commander. "We could have at least put up a fight if we were awake."
"You have the numbers to your advantage," Clarke interjects with a little positivity. "You have armies from twelve clans. They barely have an army of half of one of your clans."
Ni nods slowly, absorbing the information then scans around the table as the others lose their sharp edge at the encouragement. "They will attack in one big group; they won't spread out because they know that way they will for sure lose. Your armies need to be prepared for a heavy onset attack." Clarke continues in a blunt but informative tone.
"We will need to use our archers to our benefit, take out as many as we can before they can start firing." Chel discusses with a hand on his chin and making eye contact with the respective clans across the table.
"Archers will need to be positioned high in the trees and low to the ground, out of vision. We know the ground better than Skaikru." The Commander instructs, gaining back control over the discussion.
"Which direction do you believe that they will come from?" Caris directs the question at Clarke.
The Commander points out Arkadia on the map for Clarke, who traces over the area, visioning the gate and the surrounding area. "Here are the gates of Arkadia," she taps on the table. "I predict that they will stay straight on course and attack the first grounders they see. Most likely towards the north west."
"When I was still in Arkadia," Octavia speaks cautiously. "Pike rarely ventured to the south or east. I don't know if that helps but it was a pattern that I noticed."
"Mochof, Octavia." The Commander nods at her before reverting back to the map. "All armies must to be prepared of the initial attack, the warriors in the north west." She circles and taps the specified area, "need to be more prepared. Once the gun fires are heard, we close in on them. They will fear our numbers."
"What of the Sky people inside? The ones— "
"They are to be spared." The answer instantly sparks an uproar in the room. Fists pounding on the table and shouting are silenced by the Commander's hand raising in the air. "They will be unarmed, most likely locked in cages. These are the people that stood for our coalition and against Pike. They are not threats, they are allies."
"Heda…" her own Trikru ambassador attempts to reason with her in a calm manner.
"They lay waste to our innocent! There are no innocent Skaikru!" The Azgeda General snarls, glowering at Clarke, his eyes digging into her skin.
The Commander longs to spring across the table at his neck for killing Clarke with his eyes. "if they are unarmed, they are not to be harmed! Jus nou drein jus daun. This is not about vengeance; this is defense."
"With all due respect, Heda…"
Before Ni is able to speak, the Commander slams her first back on the table and grits her teeth. "I will hear no more of this. Get your warriors ready and in position."
In the Commander's room, the iconic war paint masks her face and hides the tenderness that resides in her eyes. Concealing Lexa from the world. She is snatching her swords and sling them across her back, with one dagger strapped to her thighs.
"Clarke when I'm away, I wish for you to teach the Natblidas of Polaris and Becca. I know you wanted Octavia's help, but…"
Discussing or thinking about anything other than Lexa's safety is the furthest thing from her mind, but at least teaching the Nightbloods will give her a purpose. "I will."
Skaikru has guns and the grounders and Lexa only have hand weapons. It could turn into an absolute blood bath. Images of bullets ripping through skin and Lexa's fill her head, her own scar aching with the possibility. She withdraws the gun out from her jacket and approaches Lexa, who is tightening the strap of her shoulder piece.
"Take this just in case," Clarke holds the handle of the gun out.
The Commander stares down at the extended weapon, her jaw working side to side. "Were you not impressed enough with my fighting skills against Roan?"
There is a flash of hurt in the masked green orbs, Clarke sighs. "It's not that. If they were fighting with swords and daggers too, I wouldn't be worried. But, they are fighting with guns."
"I do not wish to hold the gun that could have killed you, Clarke."
"And I don't want to lose you to a gun," Clarke retorts with aggravation.
"If that is— "
To be my fate. To be my death. Clarke already knows that's coming. "I do not want to hear that it is to be your fate or death. And that your spirit will protect me through the next Commander because I don't want the next Commander. I want you. When you swore fealty to me, you vowed to treat my needs as your own. Well, I need you, Lexa. So treat yourself as my need and keep yourself alive."
Lexa stares widely at her, swallowing hard. Since she dropped on her knees that night, they had never openly discussed her vow because it felt so private and personal. She takes a final look down at the small gun and grips the handle. "I will treat myself as your need, Clarke." It felt strange coming off her tongue, Lexa hasn't been anyone's need or want in so long. Only the Commander is cared for, for tradition sake. "When you are healed, I wish to teach you to fight without a gun." She straps the gun to her holster on her right thigh.
"I suppose that's reasonable," Clarke says with a weak smirk, barely curling at the corner of her mouth. It's too hard to be lighthearted right now.
"I will do everything to keep as many alive as I can Clarke, I vowed to treat them as my people as well." The Commander straightens her pose, fully geared for battle. Her heart aching as it did the last time they were in this position. This time she doesn't extend a hand or regrettably whisper may we meet again. Because they will, she doesn't want to imagine the alternative anymore. Instead, she caresses Clarke's face and kisses her short and soft. "I love you, Clarke." She whispers, resting their foreheads together with their eyes closed and Clarke's hand on her waist.
"I love you too, Lexa." With a final peck and glance, the Commander disappears out the door.
