A/N: Hey guys! Sorry this update took a bit longer than I wanted, was away at a wedding and didn't have much down time! Promise next one will be faster. If you ever want to reach out to me find me on tumblr: lovingwhatido
The stables area is packed with warriors rounding up their horses and coating their face with battle paint. Heda's horse awaits her with Indra, Lincoln and Octavia assembled around, in an immersed discussion. Their eyes fly up in the Commander's direction as she approaches and immediately seizes the reigns of the horse to hoist herself up. She kicks her boots into the foot straps and grips the leather reigns tight.
A word doesn't need to be uttered for the others to hop up on their respective horses. The Commander is mildly impressed when Octavia climbs upon her horse without an ounce of struggle, much improvement from months ago.
"Teik's gyon au," the Commander barks gruffly, her face scowling. She flips the reigns instigating the horse to start galloping.
Stomping of hooves crack on the cold solid ground as the other three and additional warriors trail behind their Heda outside of the Polis gates, being anchored open for them. A few carry torches to light up the pitch black sky that darkens when they begin to travel through the forests. The group is much smaller than usual, compared to their usual enormous army that would march and ride together.
While other members of the coalition may rejoice in perceiving this as a vengeance on Skaikru, finally getting to spill their blood; the Commander is filled with dread. This war, this blood is exactly the cycle she envisioned to break with Clarke by her side. They are both aware of the possible devastating losses on both sides. The burden of war and being Commander weighs heavily down on her shoulders, emotionally sinking her down into the horses back.
On her right, she notices Octavia's detached face focused on the dirt path in front of them. Her jaw muscles clenched lightly. "Octavia," the Commander states, waiting until sea green eyes turn to her. "If you feel like you cannot fight this battle, I'd understand."
"No battle is ever easy. Trikru are my people, Heda. I will fight for them. I will not let Skaikru kill any more of my people."
In Lexa's head, she can hear Clarke's voice from one of the first times they talked about Octavia. "Her brother is more important to her than anybody, she would never endanger his life." As Clarke has taught her, she permits her heart to slip through for just a second as she leads. "And what of your brother? Will you fight against him?"
"My brother is on the wrong side," Octavia hisses through her gritted jaw. Her teeth show briefly as her eyes turn to fire.
The fresh wound rips through her teeth, Lexa can almost feel the betrayal reeking off of her. Not nearly as tangible as Clarke pressing a knife to her throat, both reeling in pain caused by someone they love. If Clarke even loved her then. She straightens her posture on the horse, pushing her heart back down. The memory of the cold blade ghosts against her throat.
She glances back over to Lincoln, who is rounding around a thick tree back onto the path. His face stoic as always, as a warrior's should be. But, she recognizes that he is dreading this nearly as much as she is. "Lincoln," she calls out.
His neck goes rigid, forced out of a deep reflection. He yanks and jerks his reigns somewhat sloppily to guide to horse to the left towards the Commander. "Sha, Heda?"
"You are my Fleimkepa and a pacifist." The Commander states plainly while their horses march in time with each other. "I will not force you to fight when you do not wish to."
The tall warrior bends his neck to miss a low tree branch. "I fight this war for Octavia and I hope this to be our last. For a long time. Maybe then we can show blood must not have blood and peace."
"I hope so Fleimkepa. With this battle, we can still show that. We take prisoners when we can. Have little blood spilled as possible."
"Heda," Indra interjects from behind them. "The others will kill when they have the chance. They see Skaikru as the enemy and are thirsty for revenge."
Only sparing a quick glance over her shoulder, the Commander hardens her voice into a demand. "As Trikru General, set an example. One of us must take the first step." Let it be you. She repeats the very words Clarke said to her in the tent that night, encouraging the Commander to break the cycle.
For the past twenty minutes, Clarke has tried to ignore the sun shining through the windows. It's been awhile since her eyes actually hurt from a lack of sleep. Aside from the night she got shot and the discomfort would pound her awake. Last night she was jolted awake from her nightmares. They are no longer filled with the horrifying memories of the innocent in Mount Weather. Ringing gun shots shook her in her sleep. And when bloodied bodies lined the fields, with both grounders and Skaikru, she would shoot up in bed panting. Her heart already hard and heavy with guilt, she would be responsible for those deaths even if it wasn't directly by her hand this time.
That was hardly the worst of it. She would wake up with tears rolling down her cheeks when she would envision Lexa or her mom dead. Without either of those two, Clarke would be lost in this world. Losing everyone else would be hard enough, she can't lose them too.
Clarke realizes she can't allow herself to dwell on this, it will drive her mad again. She forces herself up and shuffles over to her wardrobe to get dressed for the day. Keeping herself busy with getting her stitches removed and teaching the Nightbloods will hopefully be enough to keep her sane until this is over.
"Aden!" Clarke jumps back, startled when she opens the doors to find the young Nightblood standing there with a sword tightly gripped at his side. Her normal guards remain in their normal positions, a couple feet away from the doors and staring straight ahead.
"I'm sorry," he bows at the waist. "Heda requested that I and the other Natblidas watch over you in her absence."
She rolls her eyes and mutters, "of course," under her breath. This shouldn't come as a shock any more, she recognizes that Lexa has the best intentions
Taken back by her reaction, Aden jolts his chin out as the Commander does. "She only worries for your safety."
"I know," Clarke sighs, she has a horrible knack for unintentionally intimidating the Nightbloods. "You just surprised me."
The young boy loosens his posture upon Clarke's explanation and takes in a small breath. "Lexa said you had something to teach us?"
Clarke nods, taking a few slow steps down the hall. "I can teach you and the rest of the Natblidas once I get these stitches out."
"I will accompany you to the healer." He states with conviction and no room for argument and proceeds by Clarke's side down the hall. A trait he has surely learned from Lexa.
After descending down a flight of stairs in silence, Aden asks timidly. "Do you worry for your people, Clarke?"
Nervy eyes skirt at her face before staring back at the ground. Although the corridor is empty, she drops her voice. "The people, who are attacking the blockade, I do not worry for. I worry for the innocent inside that supported the coalition. And I worry for your people who are have to fight against guns."
"You worry for people that are not your own." He detects, gesturing to a single door on the right. "Compassion. One of the four pillars of being Heda."
The wooden door is familiar to Clarke; she was escorted down here when she had attempted to save Lexa's life the day she fought Roan. And she had impulsively cut her hand open in front of Queen Nia. "I remember you pledging your loyalty to protect my people as the thirteenth clan. We aren't your people either, that's compassion."
Aden holds open the door and follows Clarke inside. As the rest of the Polis tower is, the healer's room is scattered with candles. Additionally, there are four cots spread throughout the room and side tables of medical tools and bandages.
"Lexa made each of us vow it, our loyalty and protection of Skaikru."
The disclosure causes Clarke to misstep with the skip in her heart. She was already astounded that Lexa vowed and pledged herself to Clarke and her people. Had she requested that all of her possibly successors do the same?
"Wanheda." The healer shoves aside the thin curtains leading to a private spot of the room. The same healer that ran to her room that night to stitch her up after the bullet ripped through her.
Unsure of the proper Trigedasleng translation, she tugs down the collar of her shirt and points at the stitches. "I need to have these removed."
The healer nods and points to a cot, placed against a wall on the far side of the room. As Clarke sits on the edge of the cot, she pulls her over jacket off. "Aden, why don't you go get the other Natblidas and meet me in the sacred room? This should only take a couple of minutes."
"Lexa said…"
"I know what Lexa said but I can survive a couple of minutes on my own. I am Wanheda, remember?" She asks rhetorically with a small smirk and a quirk of her eyebrow. "I'll tell her you never left my side the entire time."
Aden surveys the woman carrying a stool and dragging it in front of Clarke. "As you wish, Clarke." Before exiting, he bows his head at Clarke. A gesture she finds completely unnecessary.
"Umph," she grunts softly as the healer begins unthreading and plucking at the stitches.
"The arkers are in position, Heda." Indra reappears next to her after inspecting the discussed areas and key positions.
The Commander nods in recognition, "how far away are they?"
"They are getting close. The arkers will take their aim when they are in range. Then the signal will be blown once hits have been made."
Branches creak in the distance from arkers getting in position as Pike's army looms across the large clearing between the trees. In the direction that Clarke predicted they would travel in, directly towards the Trikru clan. Their clunky footsteps grow louder by the minute, not as swift or stealthy as those on the ground learned from a young age. The Commander and other warriors have remained drawn back, out of sight, to wait for the arkers to make their moves. An abnormal silence blankets over the clans, frightened to make a sound or rumble and jeopardize their plan.
Faint springs of the bows ping into the air as arrows fly through the air and hit their marks. Multiple bodies collapse to the ground and yelps of pain echo across the field. Their signature war horn is blown loudly, signaling the other clans to close in on the army.
"Woah! The first Commander really fell from the sky in this?" Gio shrieks in wonder. Eyeing Clarke with wide intrigued eyes while the other Nightbloods have their hands magnetized to Polaris. Their jaws still open as they mumble in Trigedasleng.
"Yes." Clarke smiles. "You can see it in this illustration," she points to the famous large sketch when she has all of their attention once again. "Rebecca, or Becca as you know her, floated down to earth in this escape pod. And that's when your people found her as the legends say."
A Nightblood, near the back of the group, rubs the back of his neck. "But isn't she the one who caused those bombs to go off? Was Becca bad?"
Eight pairs of big disheartened eyes stare up at Clarke, as if everything they have ever known about Becca has been ripped to shreds. "No, no it wasn't her fault. It was…" Clarke stops herself when she realizes that she won't do a better job at explaining the AI than she did the first time. And she can't continue to allow the Nightbloods believe their first Commander was bad. "I'm not very good at explaining this. Once our people reach an agreement, one of my friends is explaining this to Lexa- the AI and the backstory behind Becca. Because even your Heda doesn't understand."
A couple of gasps spurt through the group with exchanged glances amongst the Nightbloods. Almost as if they can't believe that their Heda doesn't understand something.
"She doesn't? Lexa knows everything! She is the smartest of all of our people!" Liam shouts from the front, his mouth hanging open and his eyes are about to fall out of his head.
"Are all of your people smarter than her?" Miana, one of the older Nightbloods, asks innocently.
Clarke breathes out a laugh, "no. Lexa is still the smartest, trust me. My people just have equipment and materials that she isn't familiar with, no one on the ground is because it was created when we were in the sky."
"Like the mountain men?" Aden probes, his eyes narrowing and his lips in a tight straight line. The hard swallow gulping in his voice reveals his lingering fear of those who use to over shadow them with superior technology and turn their people into monsters.
"Yes, but more advanced even." Clarke answers hesitantly but honestly. Instigating further panic over Skaikru and reigniting old fears is not something Clarke wishes to initiate. Surprisingly, there are only a couple moments of silence as the group absorbs the information and blinks away any visible fear.
"How was it living in the sky?"
"Can you tell us a story?"
The eager questions spout quickly through the group and Clarke beams, "I have many stories that I can tell you about living in the sky, near the moon and the stars. Come on sit down and gather around."
Booming gun shots have been firing through the air, only taking down a few of their arkers. With their superior skills, the arkers were able to take down a significant amount of the army. The ground growls and shakes as all the clans close in, diverse war chants become louder and louder. The Commander unleashes the sword from her belt and runs towards the disoriented army. Upon hearing the stomping of hooves, boots and erupting war chants, Pike's army is spinning around and pointing their guns in every direction.
Charging warriors begin being struck down by flying bullets but a sufficient amount weave through to slice through the attacking army. The Commander leaps over fallen bodies to kill two Sky People, who had their guns aimed at Indra.
Her feet come to a skidding stop when Pike appears in front of her, holding his gun straight at her. "This comes to an, Commander. Your people have killed too many of my people. These are our lands!"
The Commander's heart thuds and seizes as her blood heats up in resentment. She grips her swords tighter, contemplating reaching for the gun strapped to her thigh. "These are not your lands. Your people who stand against me and the coalition will be met by death. As you can see here. We greatly outnumber you." She nods in the south towards the final approaching clans.
His teeth bare as he holds the gun up higher over his shoulder but is knocked down by Octavia before either of them can make a move. However, he instantly slams her back down on her back and raises the gun up to her instead.
Bodies continue to drop around them filled with agonizing screams and the ripping of flesh. Out of the corner of the Commander's eye, she can see Indra and Lincoln hesitate briefly but choose to defend off any Skaikru nearby.
A few meters away, Bellamy witness the events unfolding, his eyes widen with horror. He stomps over and with shaky hands, points the gun at Pike. "What are you doing there, Blake?"
"Stopping you." He grits his teeth together, "I can't let you kill my sister."
"Your sister is one of them! She's the enemy! You didn't fix the problem when you had the chance!"
Octavia squints up at Bellamy with an unreadable expression, clearly not thankful or appreciative though. Her eyes glare back at Pike and she wraps her fingers back around her sword, "I'm not the problem. These people are not the problem! You're the problem, don't you see that! So many have died under your hand!"
Pike chuckles coldly, "you and Clarke are both brainwashed by these savages. So much wasted potential. I hate to have kill one, who use to be our own." With that, he lays his finger on the trigger.
The Commander is about to thrust at him but Bellamy jerks his trigger and fires a bullet in Pike's head. Octavia gasps and scrambles to her feet, Lincoln quickly at her side. Indra draws her sword at Bellamy, who drops his gun and raises his hands in the air.
"Arrest him," the Commander growls. "He will be held prisoner, his punishment for his crimes are to be determined."
Indra lowers her sword and grabs him by the arm to tie his wrists behind his back. As she begins to drag him away, Bellamy chances a glance at Octavia with apologetic yet hopeful eyes.
"Just because you didn't let Pike put a bullet in me doesn't change anything everything else you did. You are lucky the Commander even sparred you." Octavia glowers and grits her teeth.
When his arm is jerked by Indra, he hangs his head and trots where he is being guided. The amount of gun shots has decreased dramatically over the last ten minutes. Most of the attackers have been warded off by the sheer number of those against them. Blood and dead bodies cake the field around them. The visual still makes the Commander's stomach twist, she hates the death of more of her people. She declared this short fight in hopes this will be the last one for a long time.
"Thank you, Octavia." Lexa says sincerely as she marches swiftly passed Lincoln and Octavia towards the remaining fight.
"For what?"
"For quite possibly saving my life." Lexa doesn't make eye contact with the girl next to her while they step over mangled bodies, blood seeps over boots and she shakes it off.
"You don't need to thank me for that. I wasn't just going to let Pike kill you like that."
Her fingers rewrap around her sword in precaution as they near battle, "Clarke told me that in your culture people say thank you when you save their lives."
Octavia huffs, "she has taught you a lot of things hasn't she?"
Lexa decides to overlook that, unsure if it was a serious question or mockery. She witnesses a woman shoot down an Ice Nation warrior, a bullet to the chest sending them straight to the ground. Within a second, a sword slices clear through her stomach. She falls to her knees choking then collapsing on the ground.
Three bloody Skaikru warriors are being hauled off by their elbows and their wrists secure behind their backs. The swinging and slashing of swords has come to a halt while many of the warriors scan their surroundings for any lingering Skaikru.
None are in the Commander's eyesight.
"Are there any left alive, who haven't been taken prisoner of war?" The Commander bellows, her voice echoing off the bare trees.
When she is met with silence, she knows that the short war has come to an end. The clans had the army trapped in this large clearing, it would have been near impossible for one to slip through unharmed.
"The armies of the twelve clans can sound their victory horns. Together we have defeated this enemy!" The Commander shouts and raises her sword in the air.
Cheers and horns deafen the area. Octavia and Lincoln are the only other two who are not celebrating other than the Commander. The Commander meets Indra approaching from the left, "the weapons of fallen Skaikru must be gathered. They can't fall into the wrong hands. It will be dealt with back in Polis."
"Sha, Heda. I will order them to gather the weapons when they collect the bodies of our fallen people and prepare their bodies for the ritual." The Trikru General gives a curt nod.
Translations:
Teik's gyon au: Let's go
