Chapter 8

For the first time in several days, Clarke actually feels well rested when she wakes up. She's not stupid, though. She knows it's because of the mead she ended up sharing with Storm the night before, the giant warrior insisting he and Clarke toast his union. Clarke had declined at first, but once Eden had taken Willow to the tower for the evening she had agreed.

The water she pounded before retiring to bed ensures Clarke isn't suffering for her indulgence, which is a major relief. Clarke can't imagine taking care of Willow, and dealing with the arrival of her people, whilst nursing a hangover. Hell, today will be tough even if Clarke had been in the best shape of her life.

She can see from her balcony that her people are already here. The vast difference in clothing making Kane and her mother stand out in the crowds of Polis. Clarke notices that they only have a few guards with them. Kane's doing, she assumes. He had always had an obvious respect for Lexa, and a major interest in grounder culture.

Kane's growth as a person is something that Clarke admires about him. His not so subtle care for Abby is another.

"Clarke?" Clarke's heart leaps into her throat, her pulse hammering at the sudden voice. "Sorry," Storm says, stepping out onto the balcony, a shit eating grin telling Clarke he's not all that sorry at all. "I knocked," he offers as explanation.

"It's fine," Clarke says, offering him a smile. "I didn't expect to see you today. I thought you'd take a few days off." Storm waves her off, his features suddenly serious apart from the permanent glint in his eyes.

"Polis would likely fall without me." The frown on his face lasts for all of two seconds, his usual grin splitting across his face. "Come, Clarke, Heda requires your presence before we greet your people."

Clarke feels the lines between her brows growing a little deeper, but doesn't question him. Storm will only ever offer information that Lexa has granted him permission to, a lesson she has learned in her short friendship with the gentle giant.

There's a comfortable silence between them as Storm leads Clarke from her room, Clarke falling deep into her thoughts. It's nice to have a break from Willow, nice to not have aching arms and back from carrying the child. Clarke doesn't have to worry about keeping her calm and happy for a little while, worrying about whether or not Willow is comfortable in her arms. Or if she's warm enough.

There is a part of her that completely disagrees with that thought, though. A contradiction deep inside her acting like a gravitational pull and bringing random concerns to the forefront of her mind. Did Willow get enough sleep? Has she eaten enough today? Is Willow missing her?

Suddenly, Clarke's relief at her break from Willow is trampled underneath a mental 180. She finds herself actually missing the ache in her arms and back after carrying Willow for too long. Even the drool that is gifted to her shoulder, when Willow falls asleep in her arms, doesn't seem so bad.

"Is Willow okay with Eden?" Clarke asks, not particularly meaning to say it out loud.

"Of course, Clarke," Storm says. "Eden will be devoted to keeping Willow safe." Clarke frowns at that, though. It's strange to her that a child is so easily trusted to keep another child safe. "There's a guard outside Eden's rooms," Storm adds, as though reading Clarke's mind.

Clarke nods, accepting that. For now.

Clarke's eyebrows instantly rise as she is led into Lexa's throne room, not missing the several sets of malicious eyes that swing over to her. She doesn't recognise a lot of people in the room and it seems she's not about to be introduced, Storm leading her to a far corner; out of the way.

Lexa's gaze catches Clarke's for a split second, Clarke the only one noticing the glance. But it's enough to reassure her. They're obviously late, the meeting continuing as though she isn't even there, and Storm murmurs quiet translations when needed. It's a small gesture, but one that is massively appreciated.

His translations aren't needed for long though as, thanks to Lexa, the conversation switches to English pretty quickly. For her benefit, Clarke assumes.

"She even prefers the enemy's language." The venom behind the statement doesn't surprise Clarke, but it unnerves her. Her eyes don't leave Lexa, catching the subtle shift in the commander's demeanour; a tiny twitch in her jaw. Lexa's furious. Blue eyes stay glued to Lexa as the situation escalates. Azgeda, as Storm quietly informs her, are challenging Lexa.

It doesn't take a genius to realise this is a bold, but very stupid, move.

"If this is your weakness again, Azgeda will gladly step in."

The tiny flare of Lexa's nostrils tells Clarke that the man has finally gone too far. His words, coupled with so called military exercises close to Trikru boundary has sealed his fate, but his overconfidence stops him from realising this. Clarke's heart hammers in her throat, waiting for Lexa to react, to put a stop to this rebellion. She's seen Lexa do worse, for much less.

"Please come join me, let us speak in private." Lexa's voice is light, but the spark in those green eyes gives away her intentions. At least to Clarke. "I have a message for Queen Nia," Lexa says and the man from Azgeda is blinded by his eagerness, his features smug as he moves to stand in front of Lexa.

It happens so quickly that a badly timed blink would cause you to miss it. Lexa doesn't even give him time to speak, a strong foot connecting with his stomach. He falls from the tower, almost in slow motion, the distant sickening thud letting everyone know when his body hits the ground.

The room is silent, a perfect mixture of fear and awe, the Commander staring down at her people.

Clarke struggles to school her features but, when her gaze meets Lexa's, her feelings are clear. Lexa has never seemed so powerful to her before. The calm discipline following an attempted betrayal showing her strength and, honestly, Clarke is surprised by how okay she is with it. She understands it, silently accepting that this may be a part of her life now.

Lexa surveys the room, her eyes hard and her head high. Silently daring someone else to step out of line. Titus looks smug, almost cocky, Indra still on high alert. Clarke can't stop the small smile that tugs at the corners of her mouth, her eyes shining as she stares up at Lexa.

"Would anyone else care to question my decisions?" Lexa asks, scanning the room, ready to strike down anyone else who dares go against her. She's aware of Clarke's eyes on her, but she keeps her gaze on the men in front of her. One by one, the men who had refused to bow fall to their knees; a late show of respect.

"Good. Then let us begin."

...

Clarke eagerly accepts Willow from Eden, smiling softly as the baby snuggles into the crook of her neck. She gives the girl a grateful smile, suggesting that she rest. This is her first moment alone with Willow today, and Clarke savours it. Willow seems content to just be in her arms, the growing bond between them clearly showing.

"I missed you today," Clarke murmurs into Willow's dark curls, moving across the room to sit in an elegantly carved chair. "I hope your day wasn't as weird as mine." Earnest green eyes gaze up at her newfound keeper; a captive audience. "Your cousin is kind of a badass."

Clarke finds herself constantly thinking about Lexa's actions. Not too long ago she would have been horrified to see someone thrown from a building, but there's a part of Clarke that deemed it almost necessary. There would be no peace unless Lexa keeps control of the clans. Hell, there'd be no Lexa if she isn't fit to lead.

Perhaps, sometimes, the ends do justify the means. Lexa's ability to lead had been questioned, her strength too. The message to Queen Nia will not be well received, she's sure, but it will most certainly be understood.

Willow's grabby little hands interrupt her train of thought, and Clarke carefully removes the tiny fingers from her hair. It's starting to become clear to Clarke that this is her life now. The only other option would be leaving Willow behind. Lexa, too. She'd still see them, though. Just enough to keep the wound open. That doesn't feel like an option; not now. Not if her people join the coalition.

The knock at her door surprises her, and she doesn't even have time to stand and cross the room before it's flung open.

"Clarke!" Abby freezes on her way to greet her daughter, exhausted eyes landing on Willow. The confusion on her features is obvious, but Abby doesn't question her straight away. Snapping out of it, she throws a desperate arm around Clarke, hugging her as best she can without crushing Willow.

"Let her breathe," Kane says, stepping further into the room, his gaze a perfect blend of amusement and curiosity. He seems relaxed; content. "You look good, Clarke." Clarke musters up a smile for him, nodding in his direction, distracted by a now whimpering Willow.

"Who is this?" Abby steps back just enough to calm Willow.

"Her name's Willow," Clarke says, unwilling to offer much explanation. Willow's identity is still very much a secret to most of Polis, and it's not her place to expose it. "She's...special," Clarke adds, awkwardly.

"She's beautiful," Kane says, easing himself into the conversation; attempting to lighten the sudden dense atmosphere. He's not an idiot, he can easily spot the child's resemblance to the commander, but he is wise enough to keep that to himself. "You weren't kidding about being surprised," Kane says, turning to face the warrior that Clarke hadn't noticed; Ash.

"Wanheda," Ash speaks, ignoring Kane. "Allow me." Ash steps forward and holds out his arms for Willow. Clarke eyes him for a moment, but relents, handing an unimpressed Willow to him. Lexa trusts him, and that's enough for her. Clarke is surprised when he doesn't leave, the warrior instead standing behind her. A protective shadow. He gives her a nod, motioning for Clarke to do what she needs to do.

"I have something to tell you," Clarke says to Abby and Kane, "but we don't have much time."

"Wait a minute," Abby interrupts, her hands moving to rest on Clarke's shoulders. "Just let me look at you." Clarke sighs softly, shaking her head. As much as she wants to fall into her mother's arms and take comfort in her touch, there's not enough time.

"The commander is changing the terms of the summit," Clarke says, shrugging away from Abby's touch; Abby's hurt evident on her face. Abby opens her mouth to argue but, thankfully, is cut off by Kane,

"What are the terms?" Kane asks, and Clarke is grateful for the reprieve. She can't allow herself to get caught up in her emotions. She may never be able to dig herself back out from under them.

"We become the 13th clan." As soon as she says it, Clarke winces. She has no idea how this piece of information will go down and she casts a sideways glance at Ash. Clarke would have preferred Storm there with her, but she knows he is one of Lexa's most trusted warriors and, right now, he is needed elsewhere.

"What does that mean?" Abby is the first to speak, "That we follow Lexa?"

"Yes."

Abby shakes her head, but says nothing, switching her gaze to Kane. She doesn't have to speak, though. Her negativity floods the room, Ash tensing and glancing at Clarke; ready to pass Willow to her. Abby's frown is Oscar-winning, her eyes narrowed at Clarke and her lips set in a thin line.

"We'll do it," Kane says, ignoring the glare Abby is shooting in his direction.

"Marcus, you can't be..."

"Only a fool would enter a war they cannot win," Kane cuts her off. "We'd be entering a war that would destroy our people. We will be strongest with Lexa, rather than against her."

"I will inform Heda of your decision," Ash says, motioning for Clarke to leave with him, strong arms still wrapped around a now calm Willow. Clarke hesitates, unsure if leaving with him will be the best decision. A small, yet certain, nod from Kane encourages her.

"I'll see you soon, okay?" Clarke shoots her mother a reassuring smile, but it doesn't seem to relax Abby in the slightest.

"You will," Kane says, a kind smile on his lips. "It's good to see you, Clarke." Clarke smiles, nodding her agreement as she follows Ash from the room. She doesn't fail to realise that she's exiting her own room, but she realised long ago that the grounders are a little dramatic, so she goes with it.

"Do you truly believe your people will accept our ways?" Ash isn't being cruel, merely curious, but Clarke doesn't really have an answer for him. Some of her people will likely be against joining the coalition, but it's not their decision. Kane is chancellor. Clarke trusts him, and that will need to be enough for now.

"They will learn to." It's a diplomatic answer, but it's the best Clarke can offer. She can only pray that her people will recognise this offer for what it is; a chance at a better life.

Days pass in a frantic blur and Clarke's exhausted mind barely keeps up. She thought she would feel calmer after watching Kane accept the brand of the coalition, but she doesn't. If anything, Clarke feels more tense, waiting for a rebuttal that hasn't yet reared its head. It doesn't take a genius to realise that there will be many grounders who do not wish to accept them as the 13th clan.

Hopefully, though, most will be too unwilling to challenge their Commander about it. Lexa will quickly deal with those who are, even if she is busy introducing Kane to the grounder ways. Clarke had initially been surprised that Lexa would deal with this personally, she has people all too willing to do her bidding, but Clarke soon realised it made sense.

To gain respect, one must also show it.

Lexa doesn't need to do that, but Clarke admires her for doing so. The more time she spends in Polis, the more Clarke wishes to stay. Her people are, of course, never far from the forefront of her mind, but they're safe. At least for now, they don't need her. It feels strange; her people had all Clarke focused on since landing back on earth, but it's freeing to not have to deal with it all on her own.

She does wonder if her people resent for that. For being here. Kane has told her many things about their new home, Arkadia, but he doesn't talk much about the people within its walls. She supposes there isn't much to tell. Clarke's friends will speak to each other about their thoughts, not to their chancellor. Perhaps, for now, Clarke doesn't need to know their feelings on the matter. She might not like it.

It's strange. Even as she watches from her balcony as Kane leaves, promising to be back soon, Clarke can't bring herself to feel sad. There was a small part of her that assumed she would hate to be left behind. That she'd want to go with him and her mother to tell their people about the coalition.

She doesn't.

Her feelings often seem to be contradictory these days, but Clarke is too tired to fight them. There would be no point. The amount of changes happening around her, it was inevitable that she would change, too.

Clarke watches her people leave, crystal blue never leaving their backs until they are out of sight. The relief she feels is a surprise. Abby had asked many questions during her visit, most of which Clarke could not, or would not, answer. Nobody here would dare ask about Willow, not when their Heda has ordered them not to.

Clarke stands there long after they're gone, lost in thought about things to come. Willow is with Eden, allowing Clarke some time to herself with no responsibilities. Something that is very rare these days. She watches as flames are lit down below, fighting off the shadows that the evening brings. The flurry of activity below the tower seems more organised than usual, and Clarke smiles to herself, wondering if there is to be another wedding.

That would be nice.

There's no music, though. No merry, mead-induced sing-alongs that Clarke is growing to adore. No happy children running around or fighting with wooden swords. No, this is different. Lexa's warriors are near the entrance to Polis. They look like they're waiting. Perhaps Lexa has more meetings with other clans planned.

The way Storm, easily recognisable even from such a distance, strides forward tells Clarke that this is something more sinister. A chill runs down her spine, anxiety that she can not quite explain floods her body.

Her eyes remain fixed on the entrance to Lexa's city, breath held and pale hands firmly gripping the wall of the balcony. The movement below her pauses, warriors fixated on the entrance as horses slowly file into the capital with straight backed riders atop them. White fur clothing stands out in stark contrast with the quickly falling darkness and Clarke has been told enough to know who these people are.

She's heard stories of ice filled eyes that match their nation. Lexa warned that this may happen.

That Azgeda would come.