A/N: Hi guys….so, uh, sorry about the drastically overlong gap between the previous chapter and this one! I had a combination of real life issues, internet access issues and writer's block, all gathering together to make this take forever to write and post. I actually ended up writing something entirely separate (which I will post after I've posted this) in an attempt to break the writer's block, but it only halfway worked – I started writing again, but it was in a 'I can just about write two sentences per day' kind of way, so if this is really terrible and disjointed then I apologise. Feel free to tell me to give up on writing anything ever again! Melodramatic as it sounds, I'm still blaming this on 3x07 trauma – I'm pretty sure anyone reading this can relate.
If, by some miracle, this has come out better than I thought and you guys still enjoy reading it, then don't worry I do fully intend to finish this. I love these characters too much (as I'm sure you can understand) and I want to finish their story if it kills me (melodrama alert). I am, as you might guess, going to change my original plan for the story which was going to be to write the story pretty much exactly on canon but with more detail. The trauma (melodrama alert) of 3x07 was enough one time; I'm not going to put us through that again. I haven't figured out exactly what I'm going to do when I get there yet but at current writing rate I have plenty of time to plan…
Anywho, apologies again for the delay, I hope you aren't too angry with me! Here it is, I hope it's not as disjointed as its writing process was...
(And with that ringing endorsement…)
Enjoy!
Chapter 10
"Welcome, all of you, to Tondc," Lexa began, the room falling silent as the expectant faces from each of the twelve clans and the Skaikru delegation turned towards her. "I have called you here because here and now we finally have a real opportunity to beat back the Mountain and its people who have hunted us for far too long. With the sheer might of our Coalition and the information and technology of the Sky People, we will make the Mountain fall; victory will at last be ours."
A rumbling murmur of approval rolled around the room and Lexa felt hope tighten in her chest. She raised her hand for silence.
"Now that you have all eaten, Indra and her people here in Tondc will show you to your quarters. Go, settle yourselves, and at sunset I will hold a meeting with the leaders of each clan here where we will begin to build our plan to tear down the Mountain, together." She looked around the room, meeting every eye and holding the gaze of every sceptic for just that little second longer, marking their faces in her mind. "Go."
The silence broke in the scraping of benches being pushed back and the muffled thudding of many feet as her people began to move. She watched as Indra began barking out orders to her people, directing and pointing and leading until the hall was nearly empty and only Lexa was left.
It felt almost peaceful down here now, the dim light and the quiet insulation soothing after the tension that she had felt in the air when it was full of so many wary people.
This war has been raging for many years; be glad that you are about to end it. Enough has been said and done; they will follow your lead.
She closed her eyes for a few moments, taking in the stillness, letting the familiar ritual of meditation ease her own tension as she continued to force down her own irritated disappointment that Clarke would not be there for this most important meeting.
Enough. Go.
She made her way back up the stairs, composing her features carefully before exiting the building. She saw Marcus and Indra stood together a few metres away, Kato and Reesa and another warrior she wasn't familiar with watching over proceedings just beyond them.
"Heda," Indra inclined her head as Lexa approached and Marcus turned to see her.
"Commander," he smiled. "It's an impressive sight, leaders from all twelve clans gathering together, warriors from all over working so efficiently together."
Lexa saw Indra's barely contained eye-roll but was pleased to note that there was much less disgusted animosity in it than there would have been three days ago.
"This is a war my people have been itching to fight for decades. They know it is finally time for action."
She had to work hard to keep her voice firm and unhalting because as she spoke she caught sight of bright gold hair a hundred yards or so away.
Clarke?
Clarke.
Clarke was striding through the streets of Tondc towards her, Octavia by her side and Ryder a pace behind.
It was hard not to stare, not to just drink in the sight of Clarke safe and whole and here and walking with such purpose.
Focus.
She drew a breath carefully through her nostrils and re-centred herself.
Don't let emotion cloud your thoughts, she reminded herself sternly, resting her newly recovered arm on the hilt of her new sword.
"Clarke of the Sky people has honoured us with her presence," she said in an attempt at sarcastic detachment.
"I'm sorry I'm late, Commander," Clarke replied in her raspy voice, her blue eyes anxious. Lexa felt a split second of gratification that Clarke was apologising before she realised quite how much tension was on the blonde's face, quite how afraid she looked. A quick glance at Octavia told the Commander that Indra's second had noticed something was off with Clarke too.
"You made good time," Marcus said, a question in his voice. "I assume the kids at Mount Weather are ok?"
"For now," Clarke replied briefly before her eyes locked straight back to Lexa's. "Can we talk in private?"
It was clear to Lexa that something was very wrong.
"Yes," she replied, keeping her face and voice neutral as she turned. "This way."
She led the way back towards the now-empty meeting hall, Clarke and Ryder trailing behind her. She was pleased to see he was sticking so close to Clarke even here in Tondc, but she had the impression that Clarke would not speak her piece in his presence.
"Thank you, Ryder," Lexa said they approached the door. "You are relieved for now."
"Heda," he nodded his understanding, turning away as Lexa led Clarke into the building and down into the council room.
"We overheard Mount Weather Command through the radio," Clarke began as soon as they were alone. "They know about the meeting tonight, they know that we'll be here. They're going to send a missile. They're going to destroy Tondc."
Lexa felt her blood freeze and all the voices of Commanders past came rushing in unison to tell her one thing:
You cannot let the Flame be destroyed. You may die by sword or by bullet, but not like this. You must protect the Flame at all costs.
And she knew they were right. Without the wisdom of the past Commanders to guide them, her people would be lost; she could not risk the Flame to the awesome destructive power of the Mountain's missile.
"They're going to send a missile. They're going to destroy Tondc."
Clarke saw Lexa's entire body go rigid and silence rang in the room for a second.
"A missile?" she questioned, her voice low, her eyes searing into Clarke's as if searching for a hint of doubt. "You're sure?"
"Yes," Clarke confirmed, trying to keep the fear and the guilt from her own voice. It was her fault; she'd sent Emerson back to the Mountain with a threat and now they were responding. "We have to start evacuating now."
She watched Lexa digest this, take a breath and reach a decision, all in the space of three seconds.
"No," she said calmly, her face betraying almost no emotion.
"What do you mean 'no', Lexa?" Clarke objected incredulously, completely taken aback.
"If we evacuate, they'll know we have a spy inside their walls."
"Not necessarily," Clarke tried to object but Lexa cut her off, all-but rolling her eyes as she did so.
"We can't risk it," she said, again her voice emotionless as she moved across to the table to study the map. Clarke felt her anger rising.
"What's the point of having an inside man if we can't act on what he tells us?" she demanded, closing the gap between them again.
"Is the acid fog disabled?" Lexa asked, turning her gaze calmly to Clarke again. "Is our sleeping army uncaged?" Clarke could only shake her head. "Then Bellamy's job is not done," Lexa continued, her voice hardening slightly. "Without him, we can't win this war."
"So what are you saying?" Clarke asked, trying to keep her cool and increasingly failing. "We just do nothing, let them bomb us?" The insanity of this plan did not lessen in Clarke's eyes as her statement rang in the silence; she watched almost disbelieving as Lexa studied the map for another few moments in apparent dispassion.
"It will be a blow," the Commander just barely conceded, "but our army will be safe inside the woods and it will inspire them."
'It will inspire them!?' Holy shit, Lexa!?
Clarke's mind was running unstoppably through images of what she'd witnessed here in Tondc, of how much the people here loved their Commander, of how much they revered her.
And she's willing to sacrifice them to win this war.
Clarke swallowed, trying hard to wrap her mind around this 'big picture' approach, trying to grasp at Lexa's cold hard logical reasoning.
She remembered how quick Lexa had been to offer her own life as sacrifice when they'd been fleeing the pauna; even now, Clarke was fairly certain they'd do better with Lexa as the Commander than any of the other Grounders.
"And what about us?" she asked, ready to explode at one hint of 'my spirit will choose wisely'.
"We slip away; right now," Lexa said, turning to Clarke and meeting her eye. "Put this on," she instructed, passing a dark shawl to Clarke before turning and striding back towards the exit.
Clarke was so taken aback it took her a moment to comprehend what she'd heard. Lexa was going to let Tondc burn while she saved her own skin. Clarke didn't know if she was more horrified or disbelieving; she knew she hadn't known Lexa long but it didn't seem to fit.
"Lexa, wait," she called her back, striding after the Commander and needing this all to just stop for a second as her own fear and guilt threatened to consume her. "You don't understand. I provoked Mount Weather. I sent a message to distract them from Bellamy-"
"Clarke," Lexa cut her off firmly, "sometimes you have to concede a battle to win a war."
"No," Clarke objected, unable to swallow this lesson, unable to take that emotional step back. She could feel herself shaking, her mind flitting around as she desperately tried to come up with an alternative plan. "We can inform the leaders of the clans," she started, hope flaring in her chest at the idea even as she determinedly ignored Lexa's patronisingly impatient eye-roll, "pick a rendezvous point in the woods. Each of them can slip out separately-"
"And how many more people will they tell?" Lexa cut her off, her voice beginning to rise at last. "Where do we draw the line?"
"Well, then cancel the meeting!" Clarke burst out. "Start a fire, something!
"Clarke, we don't have time for this," Lexa just ignored her suggestions, stomping down on Clarke's hope as she turned and walked away.
"No, no!" Clarke exclaimed, stepping forward and grabbing Lexa's arm, pulling her around face her. "This is wrong!" she asserted forcefully, searching Lexa's eyes for some recognition of this fact. To her surprise it was there, clear as day in the shadows of Lexa's eyes as her green gaze bore back into Clarke. She found herself having to swallow hard and almost retreat a step as the Commander advanced on her, her pale eyes hard with pain and grief and determination.
"It's also our only choice, and you know it," she hissed. "You could have warned everyone up there, but you didn't. You said nothing, not even to your own people." Lexa paused, letting the silence ring; the truth of her words pressed down on Clarke's chest, flooding her with yet more guilt. "This is war, Clarke. People die. You showed true strength today; don't let emotions stop you now." Clarke had no riposte, no argument to give, no defence; she could only stand there and let the truth batter her into submission. She could take no comfort in the fact that her actions had won her Lexa's respect. "It's time to go," Lexa's voice was almost gentle before she turned and marched up the stairs out of the room.
Clarke took a deep breath, tried to find an alternative, anything, but could only blame herself.
Herself and the Mountain Men.
"You need to cover your hair, it's too distinctive," Lexa murmured quietly as Clarke arrived at the top of the stairs. She just about held in the urge to reach out and tuck the shawl more securely around Clarke's hair herself. She watched as Clarke did as she bid, her eyes still a stormy sea of doubt.
Satisfied that they were as disguised as they could be, both of them with hair covered and Lexa's pauldron and sash hidden, Lexa glanced quickly outside.
"Nobody is watching the door," she murmured quietly to Clarke beside her. "If we move quickly and quietly, we can get out of the village without causing panic." She looked at Clarke, meeting those troubled eyes and willing her to see the necessity of their actions. She needed Clarke to come quickly and quietly with her or all would be lost.
She watched as Clarke swallowed down her objections and nodded.
"Let's go."
They slipped silently from the building, keeping their heads down and their shoulders hunched against recognition. It made Lexa's skin crawl to think that this deception of hers would mean death for the people of Tondc, that she would live to see them die knowing that she could have saved them-
Concede a battle to win a war, she reminded herself firmly. There are more lives that will be saved, that will be avenged, if you hold on to strength now.
Carefully they made their escape, the encroaching darkness of evening aiding them as the increasing shadow hid their faces. They reached the tree line but Lexa knew they needed to get much further out than that. She heard Clarke's footsteps falter behind her and turned to see the blonde stood still, staring back at the village, her face a picture of doubt. She could see her desire to go back, to warn the people.
"Clarke, we have to keep moving. We're not far enough away." She could still see the doubt and took a few steps back to meet the other girl, watching as Clarke dragged her eyes away from the village to meet hers. "The last time they used a missile, it was before I was born," she kept her voice low whilst trying to convey the urgency that was beating in her veins, even as Clarke glanced back at the village again. "According to legend, it left a hole in the woods you could not see across." The blonde's face twisted in pain, knowing that this was the fate awaiting Tondc. "Now let's go." Lexa turned to stride away only to hear Clarke start to argue again.
"What if we made them miss?" The hope in Clarke's voice was almost painful to hear.
"You're not listening," Lexa ground out, taking another step towards her, wishing that for once in her life Clarke would just do as she was told. "With a weapon like that, you can't miss."
"Yes, you can," the blonde retorted with that spark of defiance that at any other time would have made heat flare in Lexa's chest. Now it made her want to yell her frustration. "I heard them talking about a spotter, someone in the field to aim the missile. If we could just find him-"
Suddenly Clarke stopped talking, her face frozen in another degree of horror as she stared at something back in the village.
"No!" Clarke exclaimed, her voice catching. Lexa quickly followed her gaze and felt her heart sink. "What's she doing here?"
"Clarke, you can't go back," Lexa began quickly, desperate to cut off any plans the blonde might have to save Abby at the risk of her own life. Lexa's chest tightened horribly as the Skaigada ignored her and dashed off back through the trees towards the village. "Clarke!" she called after her but Clarke didn't so much as turn her head.
Lexa stared after Clarke's disappearing silhouette, fighting hard to hold in the deeply rooted desire in her chest begging her to run after Clarke, to save her from what seemed an inevitable death.
You cannot risk the Flame; it must be protected at all costs.
Clarke was almost frantic with fear, its icy cold fingers prickling through her chest as she ran. She couldn't let her mother die.
She ran as fast as she could, hoping she wasn't drawing too much attention to herself. She could almost feel Lexa's frustration lasering into her back, hear the echo of her words: 'love is weakness'.
So I should be ashamed of not being the kind of 'strong' that lets my own mother die?!
Her mind was whirling and her blood pounding as she made her way back to the village, trying to keep to the shadows as she searched for her mother.
There!
She grabbed Abby, pulling her sharply from the main street and out of sight.
"Mum, what are you doing here?" she demanded, fear and panic sharpening her voice and destroying all sense of tact. "I told you to stay back at camp."
"Enough, Clarke," Abby shrugged her off, anger rising in her tone. "I'm the Chancellor. I don't need your permission to go-"
"No!" Clarke stopped her, unable to allow her mother time to get started. "We have to leave, now."
"What is going on?" Abby narrowed her eyes, suspicion crawling all over her face.
"We can't be here. Mum, I am begging you. Please." She watched as fear began to settle in her mother's eyes, just enough to make her accede to Clarke's demand and Clarke seized the opportunity, taking her mother by the arm and pulling her away. "Come on."
They walked as hurriedly as possible whilst trying not to look conspicuous, Clarke willing her mother to keep her head down and just follow her for once. Fear was clamping ever tighter around her ribcage as she hustled them through the village and out into the woods beyond.
But even as they made it out of the village, the grip of fear in her chest didn't lessen. Clarke could almost feel the missile breathing down her neck, that imminent rain of death that she had brought on Tondc and the surrounding area.
"Wait!" Abby cried, stopping as they made it over the crest of a small hill only a few hundred yards away from the village.
"No," Clarke cut her off, terror screaming in her veins in the knowledge that they weren't far enough away. "We can't stop. There's no time."
"I am not taking a step further until you tell me what is happening-"
And then they heard it, the roaring whoosh, saw the blinding blaze of fire through the sky.
It was as if the very earth beneath them exploded.
Hot air and flames billowed towards them, knocking them off their feet and into darkness.
When she came, around the world seemed to have gone completely silent and then a loud whining sound started. For a few groggy seconds Clarke wondered what system the technologically simple village of Tondc could possibly have that was making so high-pitched a noise, before she realised that it was in fact the ringing in her own ears.
Muffled by the whining in her ears, she could just about make out sounds of screaming coming from somewhere in the distance.
She opened her eyes, blinking hard as she tried to focus her vision. She made out the familiar shape lying beside her.
"Mum. Mum, are you ok?"
"Oh, my God," Abby mumbled as she gingerly pushed herself up to a sitting position. Relief flooded Clarke briefly as she saw that her mother was unhurt, but then the reality of the situation kicked back in.
"Come on. We can't be here," she said, trying to gather herself as well as urge her mother on. "We... we have to go."
Abby met her eye for a long second and Clarke saw the moment when she put it all together.
"You knew," she murmured, her eyes filling with horror. Clarke's insides twisted. And then Abby's eyes rose to meet hers again, this time full of fire and accusation. "You knew, and you let this happen?"
"We had no choice-" Clarke tried to defend herself even as she felt her heart shredding at the repulsed look on her mother's face.
Abby turned away again, staring back in the direction of Tondc, the echoing screams still rending the air as the flames continued to burn.
"So many people," she murmured. "Our people."
"We had to protect Bellamy," Clarke tried again as her mother's burning eyes came back to focus on her. "Without him-"
"Oh, stop it!" Abby cut her off, her voice riddled with disgust. "I don't want to hear it."
"Mum-" Clarke was practically pleading now as they scrambled to their feet, her already-shattered heart unable to take this from her mother of all people. Oh how she wished Lexa was here to defend their actions with her implacably calm logic.
"Tell me this was Lexa," Abby demanded, not even trying to mask her horror. "Please, Clarke. Please tell me this wasn't you."
"I wish I could," she murmured, well aware that Lexa had been right when she'd said that Clarke had chosen this for herself when she'd waited until they were alone to break the news.
She swallowed hard, willing herself not to feel as she watched her mother's horror and disgust deepen.
Keep it together, Clarke, she told herself firmly. You know it was the right decision, you can't let mum screw everything else up now. We did this because of the bigger picture; don't let mum ruin that.
"You can't tell anyone about this," she said, working hard to keep her voice steady as her mother stared at her incredulously, her inability to see the big picture obvious. "If anyone finds out that we knew, the Alliance of the Twelve Clans will break. We'll lose the war."
"You crossed a line," Abby said, judgement layered thickly in her voice.
"Mum-" Clarke tried to cling to her big picture but Abby wouldn't let her.
"Their blood is on your hands and, even if we win, I'm afraid you won't be able to wash it off this time," her voice crackled with grief and anger and disgust; every word fell like a hammer blow. "Don't worry," she practically spat, "your secret is safe with me."
"Mum," Clarke tried again, feeling the pressure of her own grief and guilt building up through her chest and crowding her throat. Abby turned and stalked away. "Wait!" Clarke cried, her voice cracking as a tear burst free, trailing treacherously down her cheek. "Mum!"
But Abby had gone, left the daughter she was so disgusted with to wade through her guilt alone.
Lexa felt the blast like the ground leaping under her feet, knocking her to her knees.
Just for a moment she couldn't move. The weight of her decision that day, correct as it may have been, pressed her down into the mud beneath her. Every life lost today was one that she had chosen to sacrifice for the sake of this war; much as it could not be helped, it was almost too much to be borne.
What's done is done; you know that more of your people will be saved by this decision than were condemned by it today.
She pushed herself quickly to her feet, dashing away the tear that was tracking down her face. She turned, taking a few deep breaths as she watched the blazing light that was the remains of Tondc glowing in the distance.
Blue eyes and blonde hair flashed in her mind and the pain in her chest screwed another notch tighter.
She could still be alive.
Lexa tried not to let hope flare too much, tried not to let herself be influenced by emotion.
An image rose in her mind of Clarke lying injured and bleeding on the ground, alive but needing help, needing her-
No! I can't go back; I can't risk the Flame and I can't risk being seen. If they see me they'll send another missile.
And then the next thought dropped like an anvil to the stomach.
If they see Clarke alive they'll send another missile.
The loud voice that had been screaming at her to run back and find Clarke suddenly came front and centre in her mind and Lexa realised that she should actually be listening to it. Immediately she broke into a sprint, dashing back the way she'd come, flitting between the trees like a shadow, determined not to be seen even as she ran.
As she got closer to the burning wreck of Tondc, she began to hear the sounds of her people crying out in pain, the wailing screeches of loss and agony. A thunderous rumble of fury was building in her chest but she refused to let it take over, refused to let it overrule her mind.
She made it back to the ridge where she and Clarke had parted ways and paused. She could smell the stench of the fire and it burned into her lungs as she peered through the smoke, trying to make out the scene down in the village, trying not to hope so hard that she'd see Indra standing strong and uninjured, barking out orders to her warriors, or that she'd see Clarke scrambling up out of the village into the cover of the woods, alive and well.
A fool's hope.
She ran on, dashing down the hill toward the smoking remains of the village, her eyes darting around in search of Clarke and dreading what she might find. Suddenly her eyes were caught by something bright moving fast through the trees, it looked like fire but it was moving too fast-
That's a horse on fire.
She swallowed hard, refusing to allow herself the luxury of revulsion.
And then she saw her, a hooded figure, stumbling in a daze along the path the horse had fled down.
Clarke.
Lexa ran, she could see now what Clarke was stumbling towards, a woman collapsed and bleeding to death from her horrific injuries. The beautiful compassion of Clarke's healer's heart was going to get her killed if Lexa didn't stop her from being dragged back into the melee of Tondc, into the line of sight of the Mountain Men.
"Clarke!" Lexa hissed as she made it to the road, wanting to get the Skaigada's attention but not to call her name too loudly in case the Mountain could hear her.
Come on, Clarke, listen to me!
The blonde seemed almost unable to hear her, still stumbling further down the path to the fallen woman.
"Clarke!" Lexa grabbed Clarke by the arm as she caught up to her and pulled her around. The horrified fugue state that Clarke seemed to have fallen into was clearly still holding sway and Lexa could see the unfocused pain swimming in her blue eyes.
We don't have time for this.
She shook Clarke hard by the shoulders, calling her name again, forcing her to meet her gaze until that light of focus began to flicker back to life.
"I could have warned them," Clarke's voice was broken and hollow. "I could have saved them."
"If they see us, they'll strike again," Lexa reminded her, keeping her voice low and calm, trying to help Clarke focus on the task at hand, to help her move forward with some kind of clarity of mind. Clarke tried to pull away, to go help the dying woman, but Lexa held her back, knowing there was nothing that could be done for her. "Victory stands on the back of sacrifice. You know that."
She watched Clarke's face as the blonde's rationality came back enough for her to digest the reality of their situation; and then she saw deadly rage rise from the ashes of her pain.
"I want the Mountain Men dead," Clarke practically growled, her voice no longer broken but full of fiery vengeance. She raised her gaze and Lexa could see the fury burning in her eyes. "All of them."
Lexa felt a jagged twist in her chest. She knew that this almost incandescent rage would give Clarke the strength to be the leader she'd need to be to win this war, but Lexa would be lying to herself if she didn't admit that it hurt to see Clarke's innate compassion being stripped away by the rigours of war, by grief after grief, pain after pain.
Lexa knew well what it was to be hardened by the violence and grief of this life, to let herself become hollow and cold in order to be strong for her people, but Clarke did not have the wisdom of past Commanders within her to guide her back to her path, to bring her back to that fine line between wisdom and strength and compassion and power.
She does not have the voices of Commanders past, but she does have you.
She took a breath, her eyes still locked into Clarke's furiously blazing blue gaze, and nodded.
Clarke's insides felt like they'd rusted over, twisting, stabbing shards of pain lancing through her with every step as she followed Lexa through the trees. The memory of that woman's face kept flashing in her mind, her uncomprehending horror as she stared at her own arm lying separated from her body, the smell of death and smoke thick in the air.
The memory of her mother's face as she realised what Clarke had done.
She didn't know where Lexa was taking her and for a moment had to wonder at the fact that she apparently still trusted the Commander enough to follow her without question through relatively unfamiliar territory.
As opposed to trusting her enough to let her convince you that not warning people about an incoming missile was a good idea?
I can't blame that on Lexa, she reminded herself with another sharp stab of guilt. I chose to keep quiet before she even knew about the missile. The only difference between us was that she was strong enough to admit to herself what she was doing straight away.
She's been making decisions like this a lot longer than I have.
Clarke tried not to wince like she always did when she thought about the harsh realities of Lexa's life. She didn't know much of the other girl's history but it didn't take much calculation to think that Lexa must have been forced to make this kind of awful decision from far too young an age.
That at least makes some sense of how she keeps so calm. If death and grief are the home she grew up in, why would they make her lose it now?
But just because she doesn't let herself feel it anymore, doesn't mean that I have to make the same choice.
Suddenly the air was split by the cracking sound of gunfire echoing around the valley. They both froze, turning to look back where they'd come from as another shot rang out, and another and another.
Clarke's mind was racing, first relieved that the shots fired might mean some Arkers survived before her brain caught up with reality and she figured it out:
"The spotter," she said, thoughts and fury firing as she put it all together. "He aimed the missile," she carried on, urgency rising in her voice as she strode past Lexa to move towards the sound of the gun. "He's alone."
"Clarke, just slow down," Lexa stopped her, pulling her back by the arm and forcing Clarke to face her again. "If he is a spotter, he's here to make sure we're dead. If he tells the Mountain were alive-"
"He won't," Clarke cut her off, feeling her anger like acid in her veins and letting it give her the strength to say it with conviction and certainty.
"How can you be sure?"
"Because I'm gonna kill him."
She watched Lexa take in her words, watched surprise and understanding and then something darker and harder to categorise flit across her features. She wanted to see Lexa bursting with the same vengeance that was coursing through her; she wanted to see Lexa giving in to the same fury that was burning through Clarke.
I want her to validate my feelings.
She shied away from the shameful realisation and turned away from Lexa, unable to look at her calm understanding any more.
Shut up! she practically snarled at her frantic mind, finding relief only as the swell of her anger and pain drowned out the voices of doubt in her head.
She needs to understand what she's doing, why she's doing it. Lashing out now from pure anger will hurt her. If she thinks killing this man will make her feel better, will give her even a fraction of satisfaction or peace, it will hurt her when she discovers that it hasn't and that she has killed a man, a soldier not a decision maker, with intent and forethought.
You might not be able to prevent that. She is as stubborn as she is strong.
I have to try.
"It'll be light soon," Lexa murmured as she followed Clarke along the ridge. She needed to find a way to break through the wall of pain and anger that Clarke had surrounded herself with. "We won't have the darkness to hide us."
"Neither will he," the blonde replied tersely, her voice crisp and heavy.
"I feel your anger, Clarke," Lexa began but was cut off.
"Do me a favour," Clarke muttered, not even looking around to Lexa. "No more lessons."
"You need to focus," Lexa continued, refusing to snap her frustration at Clarke's mulishness. "We do what we must to survive. The enemy does the same." There was a second in which Clarke almost turned to face her, almost broke from her apparent determined refusal to engage. "It's not personal."
"It is to me," the blonde replied, her voice curt and her eyes sticking to the path ahead.
Come on, Clarke. Listen to me.
Lexa really did not want to see Clarke, of all people, kill a person for something so fickle as the satisfaction of vengeance.
"You think that killing the shooter will make you feel better, but it won't. The only thing that will do that is winning this war."
"That's enough!" Clarke hissed, finally spinning around and facing Lexa with fire in her eyes.
The tight knot in Lexa's chest loosened a tiny fraction at the hope that she might actually be able to get through to Clarke if they could discuss this properly, but before Clarke could even finish her angry outburst they were silenced by the rustling of movement in the trees only a hundred yards away.
Clarke whipped back around and they both peered into the darkness. Every muscle in Lexa's body tensed and she reached for her sword as she saw a dark shadow dashing through the trees, staying low to the ground. She could just about make out the shape of the man as he crouched below a small ridge. Clarke drew her gun.
"Is it him?" Lexa asked, worried that in this frame of mind the blonde could shoot before she was sure.
"No," Clarke murmured after a moment, lowering her weapon and beginning to rise. "Lincoln."
Lexa let out a breath and also rose from her crouch.
Her heart swelled with relief at the proof that not everyone in Tondc had been killed, but even as she breathed deep of that relief she choked on the knowledge that it was only pure chance that had saved him when it could, perhaps should, have been her. She swallowed and had to fight down a strong resurgence of her own guilt. Here was a man, a good man, one among the many that she had offered up as a sacrifice for the sake of winning this war; now she had to look him in the eye, to give him orders as if she still deserved his unswerving respect and loyalty.
It was in my power to save him, just as it was in my power to save those who weren't so lucky. It was my decision to leave his fate to chance.
It was the right decision; you know this.
"Clarke?" Lincoln breathed in wonder, staring in disbelief at the blonde as he approached. Lexa stepped forward to meet him and his eyes widened even further. "Commander, wh-" He cut his own sentence short, clearly unable to draw any satisfying conclusions. "Octavia said you were both-"
"You've seen Octavia?" Clarke interrupted, desperate hope thrumming in her voice.
"Yeah," Lincoln replied quickly, the smallest flash of a smile warming his face as he met Clarke's gaze. Lexa watched them bond over their shared relief and felt yet another stab of guilt in her stomach. "The few that survived the explosion are being pinned down by a sniper. That's why I'm here."
Another gunshot rang out, jarring them back to the urgency of the situation.
"Come on," Lexa urged, moving past Clarke to take the lead. "We need to get to the high ground."
She heard Clarke following quickly on her heels and Lincoln joining them a few paces behind.
It was frustrating; she was sure she'd been on the brink of breaking through to Clarke, making her confront the fact she was being blinded by rage and pain and vengeance, but now the opportunity was lost. She could not speak to her as before with Lincoln present.
The opportunity has passed; do not waste your own mental energy on useless frustration. The Mountain Man would probably have to be killed anyway. Sometimes you must let her make her own mistakes.
Lexa knew this was true, but it didn't make her any happier about the fact that Clarke's mistake was going to hurt her.
They pushed on through the trees, following the cracking sound of gunfire as best they could. The blasts echoed around the valley making it hard to pinpoint their origins but Lincoln, with his greater familiarity with the area surrounding Tondc, said he knew a place near here which would make a likely location for the shooter.
"It's in that direction, there are rocks for cover and it's high enough to provide the direct line of vision he'd need to be getting shots into the village," the tall man said as they paused for a moment to confer. The cover had thinned out significantly as the dense forest gave way to mountainside scrub and, with dawn light spreading across the mountain, they became much more vulnerable to the sniper themselves if he caught sight of them. They needed to move quickly and even more carefully from this point.
"Lead the way," Lexa nodded and stood back a little, allowing him to move past her. She let Clarke pass her by as well, refusing to analyse too much the fact that she was very intentionally keeping Clarke in the relatively safer position of between Lincoln and herself.
As they moved up the mountainside and out of the thick forest, Lexa couldn't help but pause for a moment at the rear of the group. She turned, her stomach clenching and her chest aching at the sight of thick plumes of oily black smoke rising from the destruction of Tondc.
Much as she wished to stop Clarke, knew that the killing of this one man in furious vengeance would leave an immovable stain on Clarke's heart, Lexa had no reservations about how they must deal with the Mountain's leaders, with the men and women who were making the decisions that had been ravaging her people for so long.
Blood must have blood. There will be justice.
She stared down into the valley and fought back the guilt that tried to swallow her.
They died so that the war might be won. Go now and win it.
The sun was most definitely up by the time Lincoln stopped, turning back to wait for Clarke and Lexa to draw closer.
"When we get over this ridge," he began, his voice a low murmur, "we'll be able to see the rocky outcrop that I think he's hiding in."
"What's the cover like?" Lexa asked, her face and voice as impassive as ever. "We need to hold onto the element of surprise if we're going to get close enough to disable him." Clarke felt Lexa's eyes flick towards her.
I have a gun; I don't need to be that close to kill him.
"Cover's not bad; there are still some trees and boulders, but we'll have to stay low and move fast if we're going to get near him without being seen."
"Well let's get going then," Clarke all-but growled, her patience giving way completely to the rage that was still coursing through her and was, somehow, only sparked into greater intensity by Lexa's apparent calm. The Commander had ceased her lectures when they joined up with Lincoln, but Clarke could still hear them ringing in her head. They only made the rage roar louder to drown them out.
Before either of them could stop her, Clarke darted past Lincoln and up over the ridge, ignoring the hissed 'Clarke!' that came from Lexa's lips.
I'm gonna kill him; he's mine.
She tried to keep low to the ground, dashing from tree to bush to boulder as she glanced up across the snowy scree-strewn hillside, trying to make out the shape of the sniper hiding in the rocks. She felt more than heard Lincoln and Lexa as they seemed to just materialise behind her. How they had managed to move so silently she had no idea.
"Clarke-" Lexa was clearly about to start a new lecture but Clarke wanted none of it so she ran forwards again, aiming for the next large pile of boulders. She felt the others arrive behind her as she peered around the edge of the rock, searching, searching for a sign-
There!
Triumph and hate roared through her veins as she caught sight of something black and shiny among some rotten logs atop another pile of boulders further up the hill.
She raised her hand in the universally acknowledged sign to stop and felt the others freeze behind her.
And then she saw the barrel of the gun move.
Suddenly there was the explosive sound of bullets ricocheting off rock. They all leapt back, pressing hard into the boulder that was the only thing between them and the sniper.
"So much for the element of surprise," Lexa breathed, and Clarke just about caught the notes of frustration mixed with tension in her voice.
"I'll draw his fire," Lincoln said quietly, turning to move off but Clarke stopped him before he could rise from his crouch.
"No," she spoke loud and firm, her fury defying the instinct to stay hidden. "I will."
Without waiting for agreement, she stood and leaned around the boulder, firing her gun straight at the cluster of rock and rotten wood where the sniper hid.
Her mind was blank as terror and rage overwhelmed her. She could practically feel the sniper's bullets flying around her, somehow, mercifully, missing her as she continued to squeeze the trigger again and again, showering him with her own deadly fire until she felt the empty hollow click that signalled the end of her ammunition.
Only then did she realise that the sniper had stopped shooting as well and she sank back to the ground, crouching behind the boulder next to Lexa as her shaking hands fumbled to reload her gun with bullets. She caught Lexa watching her for just a moment before suddenly the grunting roaring sound of hand to hand combat erupted from the brush a stone's throw from where they were.
She met Lexa's eyes for a split second before leaping to her feet. Clarke could practically taste the hammering of her heart in her mouth as she scrambled past the boulders towards where the sounds of the struggle were coming from, Lexa's voice hissing urgently behind her.
A high-pitched whining sound suddenly burst through the air.
No- Lincoln! He might still be vulnerable to-
She swallowed hard and followed the sound, her weapon raised as she found them.
The Mountain Man was well camouflaged, his face desperate and furious and-
His face.
He's not wearing a Hazmat suit.
Clarke almost swayed where she stood as the white hot pain of the implications of this rifled through her.
Focus! she snarled at herself, dragging oxygen into her lungs and holding her gun steady as she slowly advanced on the man. He had a knife to Lincoln's throat and his eyes were wild.
"Drop the weapon," he growled, hauling Lincoln up by the neck and using him as a human shield. His eyes burned with hatred as he glared at her, flickering towards Lexa as she appeared behind Clarke.
Every muscle in Clarke's body tensed as she glared back at him, all her fury and hatred focusing on this man who had sent that signal that had meant death to Tondc and all its people. It was the Mountain Men's fault, this man's fault, that she had been forced to choose between their essential plan with Bellamy and the lives of everyone in Tondc.
He needs to die!
And yet she still hadn't pulled the trigger.
The memory of Quint cowering before her as Lexa told her the kill was hers flashed in her mind.
Lincoln roared and struggled against the knife at his throat. He met Clarke's eyes.
"Just let him kill me, then take him out," he urged, his voice full of conviction as he asked her to sacrifice him. "Go on, Clarke. Please. Your people need you."
Her thoughts whirled with the horrible twisting sensation of the deception coiling in her stomach. She had already sacrificed Lincoln and every person in Tondc once today and here he was, all unaware, asking her to do it again, his open, honest eyes burning into her.
If he knew…
She swallowed and took a breath, setting her sights down the pistol in her hand.
"You are my people," she said, speaking the words clearly as she sent the bullet clean through his shoulder and into the Mountain Man's chest. Her heart twisted as Lincoln sank to his knees clutching his shoulder and the Mountain Man collapsed, dying behind him.
"Agh!" Lincoln grunted in pain, breathing hard for several long moments as he gathered himself, but then he met Clarke's eyes again. "Good shot," he said, grinning slightly.
He was grinning. He was grinning and he was grateful. He thought she had saved his life. He didn't know that she had made a choice just a matter of hours ago that could have left him to his death.
She couldn't hold his gaze and her eyes darted away, praying she hadn't given away the secret of the choice she and Lexa had made.
Her gaze landed on the dead body of the Mountain Man. She reached for her fury, for the vengeful hate that had driven her up this hillside with a deep desire to put a bullet in his heart. She reached for it, hoping to find some satisfaction to soothe herself with now that she'd achieved her goal, but all she found was a deep well of grief for all the lives that had been lost today and a creeping sense of horror at the realisation of what she'd done. The life she had taken did nothing to soothe the pain of grief or the weight of guilt; all it meant was one more soul lost to this war, to the continuing cycle of pain and death.
"Did that make you feel better?" Lexa's voice was soft as it reached through the deafening roar of pain and guilt that surrounded Clarke.
"No," was the only answer Clarke could give. She struggled against the water gathering in her eyes, reaching again for her anger as it seemed to be the best defence against the pain. She even tried to drum up some resentment against the evident fact that Lexa and her lectures had been right, that vengeance would not bring her satisfaction, but even there she failed. What tiny spark of anger she might have directed at the Commander was completely doused as the brunette laid a hesitant, gentle hand on her shoulder and squeezed comfortingly as she walked past her and went to help Lincoln.
Lexa took another step forward. She had to admit to the fact that at least a small part of her was impressed not only with the way Clarke had claimed Lincoln as one of her people, but with the accuracy of her shot. Even from behind, however, she could practically see the fire draining from Clarke's body, see the way her shoulders first relaxed and then began to droop as if a heavy weight had been laid across them.
She needs to understand that this is always the way with vengeance, that the distinction between justice and vengeance is real and significant.
She swallowed and took another step forward.
"Did that make you feel better?" she asked as gently as she could while still driving the point home.
"No."
Clarke's reply was swift and certain and heavy with her pain, but there was no crack in her voice. Lexa took another breath but stopped herself as the urge to speak rose.
There are no words you can utter here that will not sound trite. She needs only to know that you understand.
She walked forwards, moving towards Lincoln where he still knelt on the ground holding his shoulder. As she moved past Clarke, she allowed herself to briefly place her hand on the younger girl's shoulder, hoping that it would convey all the understanding that she needed it to.
"Lincoln, are you alright?" Lexa asked as she approached the kneeling man. She carefully ignored the small sniff she heard from Clarke behind her as she crouched beside Lincoln.
"It's not too bad," he grunted, rolling his shoulder gingerly and wincing. "I think it missed the bone. I just need to-"
"Let me see," Clarke interrupted as she crouched beside Lexa and took authority of the situation. She pulled Lincoln's hand away from the wound and Lexa watched as the two healers worked together to assess the damage.
She stood up and moved away to give them some room. It was good to see Clarke in her element again, apparently having forced herself to recover enough to work the wound. She seemed immediately calmer as she and Lincoln muttered together, focusing on the medicine.
"You're going to need something to reduce the pain if you want to use this arm in the next few weeks which I imagine you do. Is there anything growing near here that we could use?"
"I'll be fine if we just wrap it-"
"Lincoln," Clarke cut him off and Lexa could picture the glare he was being given without even looking at Clarke.
A small shudder of distaste at herself ran up Lexa's spine as she caught herself enjoying Clarke and her mannerisms in this moment, mere hours after an entire village of her people had been destroyed by one of the Mountain's missiles.
You cannot help your people by refusing all sources of joy in your life just in principle.
"I think I saw some Dalerian growing near the first clump of boulders we sheltered behind. The leaves have cleansing and numbing properties when you crush them-"
"Lexa, do you know Dalerian?" Clarke called back to Lexa and the brunette had to smirk at the fact that Clarke was clearly about to send her, the Commander of the Twelve Clans, on an errand to fetch some leaves.
That is because she understands that leadership is not just about pride and demanding slavish subservience.
More; she also knows that you understand that.
"I do know it," Lexa replied. She did a quick scan of the area for enemies, well aware that neither Clarke nor Lincoln were in the frame of mind to expect danger now, but as soon as she was satisfied that they were alone she jogged back down the ridge, eyes peeled for the red petals of Dalerian.
By the time she returned, Clarke was tearing strips from the shawl she had used to cover her hair, apparently ready to pack the wound and wrap it.
"Crushed like this?" Lexa asked Lincoln as she crouched beside the two healers again, holding up a leaf and rolling it between her fingers.
"Yeah," he grunted, pain apparent on his face, "but tear it a bit first. Let out a bit more of the juice."
Lexa nodded and did as he bid, handing Clarke the ground up leaves as she finished, taking just a moment to watch her work before she recalled herself and stood again to give them space.
As she stood, her eyes were caught this time on the body of the Mountain Man where he lay sprawled a few feet away. He did not seem large and she knew that Lincoln, reluctant as he sometimes was, was a skilled fighter. She did not entirely understand how the Mountain Man had managed to get his knife to Lincoln's throat. She remembered the strange high-pitched whining sound that had erupted during the fight and had to wonder if that, somehow, had managed to disable Lincoln at close-quarters. She frowned.
If the Mountain Men have devices that will prevent us from fighting them hand-to-hand then we have a serious problem, regardless of whether or not we manage to get the acid fog down.
"Lincoln," she began, walking back so she could face him without making him twist around while Clarke was trying to pack and wrap his shoulder. "What made that high-pitched sound during the fight?"
Bizarrely, he seemed first to blanch and then to find it hard to meet her eyes as if he were embarrassed.
"I, uh, it-"
"It was a high-frequency tone generator," Clarke answered for him as she finished tying the last knots of the wrap. This answer did not mean much to Lexa but she was fairly certain Clarke already knew that. "The Mountain Men," Clarke carried on as she rose to her feet a few moments later, "use them to control the Reapers. I think they must use some kind of pain stimulus associated with that frequency when the Reapers are being trained so they can use the tone to disable them."
Lexa understood Lincoln's response to her question. He still felt shame of his association with the Reapers.
"But Lincoln is a Reaper no longer," Lexa said, meeting the big man's eyes as she offered him her arm to help him to his feet. He swallowed hard for a moment, dropping her gaze for a second before looking up with such gratitude as he grasped her forearm with his right hand. "Why did this tone still work on him?"
"I imagine the pain stimulus is associated deeply enough that the tone is still effective long after the individual has been weaned off the drug they use to turn men into Reapers." There was a slight question in Clarke's voice and they both looked at Lincoln who nodded. Lexa squeezed his forearm firmly and he met her eyes again for a moment before she let go.
"So the tone generator temporarily disables those who have been trained to it," Lexa considered, frowning. "Does it inflict any damage on them in its own right?"
"I imagine," Clarke began hesitantly, looking at Lincoln, "that it works like a shock – painful in the moment but not inflicting too much long term damage."
"So," Lexa followed the thought, "if we could find more generators or recreate the tone-"
"Yes," Clarke nodded. "We could use them to disable the Reapers too. We have another one that we took from the Mountain Men who were originally sent to assassinate me, and Raven has already created another two. She is working hard to make more; it's just a little difficult to find the parts."
Lexa noticed that Clarke often sounded a little defensive when she spoke of Raven; she could hardly blame her after the poisoning incident.
A stab of pain ran through her chest at the inevitable thought of Gustus, but she resolutely turned away from it.
She took a breath and nodded, her eyes wandering the ground around the fallen Mountain Man until she saw the glint of metal in the grass a few feet away. She walked over and picked up the small cylinder.
"This?" she asked, holding the device up for the others to see.
"That's the one," Clarke replied, meeting her eye for just a split second before returning her attention to checking Lincoln's shoulder again now that he was on his feet.
How strange that something so small can control a man.
It was almost dusk by the time they made it back to Tondc. Lincoln was bearing up well but he had taken a bullet through the shoulder; Clarke wasn't going to let him make it any worse than necessary. There had been a number of times she'd had to force him to stop, or rather make Lexa force him to stop, because he was clearly about to faint. His desire to get back and make sure Octavia was still alive was driving him hard despite the pain and blood loss.
Clarke was pretty keen to make sure the younger girl was still alive too, but she also had the horrifying weight of knowing that they were going to find a lot of death and destruction when they got back to the village, deaths that she had chosen to allow. She had no idea how she would ever be able to look any of them in the eye ever again.
The fact that Octavia had been able to tell that something was wrong when Clarke arrived in Tondc was not making things better.
She's a smart girl; she's going to figure it out. She's going to hate me.
There's nothing I can do about that. Besides, she's also smart enough to know not to blab about it.
I think.
I hope.
She might not have figured it out; she won't exactly have had much time for riddling-
Stop thinking about it! There's nothing I can do!
She'd tried to shake the merry-go-round of guilt and worry and self-loathing by concentrating on Lincoln and on planning what came next with Lexa, but wasn't very successful.
Lexa, as always, seemed to keep up her infuriatingly calm exterior as they walked, as they discussed moving their command centre further into the woods and moving the injured survivors of Tondc to Camp Jaha with Abby. Clarke felt like her own insides were boiling and dissolving under the pressures of the last twenty-four hours but there Lexa was with her soft voice and her regular breathing and her focussed planning, bearing it all with apparent ease.
Except when we stop and she thinks no one is looking.
How Lexa managed her aloof façade Clarke had no idea, but she was certain that it was a façade. Each time they'd had to stop, either to drink some water from the river or to readjust Lincoln's bandaging, Lexa had taken herself a few paces away and the façade faded. It was her eyes that gave her away; all that impassive strength replaced by aching depths of pain and guilt.
It didn't make Clarke's own pain any less, but it made it fractionally easier to bear knowing that not only was she not alone in feeling it, but that Lexa was still the person she'd thought she'd been discovering before they'd chosen to sacrifice a village full of their own people to a missile.
She'd thought her life had been fraught with danger and heavy decisions back when she'd had to ask Lexa for horse-riding lessons; that seemed like a different lifetime now.
But Clarke had no more time for reminiscing: they had reached the edge of the treeline surrounding what had been the walls of Tondc. Lincoln broke into a jog, exhaustion racking his body even as he pushed himself on the final stretch towards the crater, and Clarke cried out to stop him but-
"Let him go," Lexa interrupted her, that quiet authority threaded through her voice as she gently touched a restraining hand to Clarke's outstretched arm.
Clarke looked at her questioningly, a little taken aback.
"Are you ready?" Lexa asked, calmly meeting Clarke's gaze and holding it for a long moment.
Clarke realised what she was asking and why. Lexa needed her to be able to meet the eyes of the survivors of Tondc, to meet Octavia's eyes, without holding her guilt out before her like a red flag. She needed her to step up and bear that leadership burden, to stand side by side with her so that their peoples would continue to stand side by side with each other.
"I'm ready," Clarke said, taking a deep breath and swallowing down the small protesting voice in her head that was screaming 'I never asked to be a leader!'
Lexa nodded and, together, they left the trees behind and made their way through the rubble towards the crater.
Horror and guilt rose in Clarke's chest, but along with them came a tumultuous resurgence of anger; raging, furious, boiling anger. Families had been built here; the lives of good people and the scenes of blissfully simplistic domesticity had been completely destroyed by people who sat in well-lit dining halls and ate sweet desserts and felt no guilt about the evil that they wrought.
She stopped at the edge of the crater and stared, trying to comprehend it all even as her eyes dashed around, searching for her mother, for Octavia, for Kane, even for Indra and Ryder. She felt relief blossom as her eyes followed Lincoln's trail just in time to see the big man engulf Octavia in as a tight a hug as his one good arm would allow, saw that same relief thrumming in Octavia's face as she clung to Lincoln and then as the two of them turned to see Clarke and Lexa.
Clarke just had time to register the familiar sound of Jackson and her mother and feel the accompanying relief of knowing that they were safe, before she met her mother's eyes and felt every cell in her body flood with guilt and shame. She just about managed to hold her gaze, to not show that red flag of guilt to every person there, when she realised that the growing hum of sound around them was because the Grounders had seen Lexa. The hum turned into a chant and she caught the word:
"Heda! Heda! Heda!" they shouted, joy and pride and relief in their voices as they saw that their Commander had not been killed.
Clarke could feel the guilt tearing up her spine like a hot knife; she could only imagine what Lexa was feeling under her façade as the people she had chosen to sacrifice chanted her title with such reverence.
After a moment, Lexa raised her hand and the respectful silence was instant as all eyes turned to her.
"What happened here will not stand," Lexa began in a controlled but carrying voice, determination and fire rumbling just below the surface. "The Mountain will fall."
Clarke tried to keep her head up, to keep her own eyes full of fire; she caught her mother's gaze and had to look down.
Silence rang for another moment and then:
"The dead will be avenged!" Lexa practically roared the words, her fist pumping into the air, and it was all Clarke could do not to flinch where she stood beside her. All that pain and rage and fury that the Commander kept so well in check seemed to rush out and fill the air in those five words. Immediately the cheers and war cries of the surviving Grounders echoed back at them in support of Lexa's rallying call and for a moment, for just a split second, Clarke felt hope again until-
"Enough! That's enough!" Abby's furious voice rose to cut off the cheers that Lexa had inspired, her eyes blazing with ill-disguised disgust as she looked at Clarke and Lexa. "There are still others in the wreckage. We heard them." Her voice cracked a little as she looked around at the gathered survivors and Clarke saw her eyes drop to what she then realised was Kane's form on a stretcher at her mother's feet. Abby glared back up at Clarke. "Go to work!"
Clarke held her mother's gaze for as long as she could but Abby soon turned away, back to Jackson and Kane, back to directing those around her as the medical team and the surviving villagers worked together in the rescue. There was so much happening under the surface, so much going unsaid; Clarke thought she might burst.
We had to. We had no choice.
She tried repeating the mantra in her head but it didn't help much.
"With our two peoples working together, we're going to win this war, Clarke," Lexa suddenly spoke next to her, her voice almost gentle, bent on reassurance. She just about managed to raise her eyes to meet Lexa's pale green ones and couldn't help taking heart from what she saw in them.
Abby, the official Chancellor of the Ark, had just greatly disrespected Lexa in front of everybody and yet here Lexa was, still surprising Clarke with her ability to show graciousness, holding to the idea that their peoples could help each other, that they would be stronger together. Clarke had made a lot of Lexa's pride, even criticising it to her face on occasion, and yet here Lexa had set aside her pride to ensure that their alliance would hold. It would probably have taken one word from her, one moment of reactive fury, and the remaining warriors of Tondc would have taken Abby's head in a second, but now here they were, taking orders from the Ark's Chancellor.
And what was more, Lexa was right: with the discipline and numbers of the Grounders, with Lexa's leadership, and with the Ark's technology all compiled with the access of their inside man, they really were going to win this war.
This might not all have been for nothing.
"I must assess the situation here, arrange for transport for the injured to Camp Jaha, but then I will leave directly for the armies in the woods. I will send warriors back here to help with rescue and begin to plan with the new clan leaders." Lexa seemed to hesitate for a moment before she met Clarke's eyes steadily with her green gaze. "Do you intend to come with me or are you returning to Camp Jaha?"
And with that, as if there wasn't enough tumult in Clarke's heart and mind already, she was thrown back into the maelstrom of conflicted feelings that were apparently undeniably bubbling in her chest surrounding the Commander. Lexa's façade was as impressive as ever, but Clarke knew how to read past it now, knew that this particular set of her jaw meant that the brunette was hiding an emotion, that that particular tension in her stance meant she was wary of what Clarke might say.
It hurt her feelings that I stayed in Camp Jaha and sent Kane to the meeting in my place.
It was strange; she'd suspected it might, but her own feelings had been too complicated and the situation had been too tense for her to analyse what hurting Lexa's feelings might mean. And now to have that decision put before her again…
It doesn't matter, she thought with an air of desperation as she tried to ignore the stir in her belly, I need to be a part of this planning meeting. It's got nothing to do with Lexa.
"I'll go with you," she said, trying to sound firm and not to react to the way Lexa's tense stance softened and her jaw relaxed. "I should be at the planning meeting, especially seeing as Kane can't go now," she finished a little lamely, but Lexa just nodded.
"Good," she said, her voice level and with no trace of the fact that she had been at all anxious about Clarke's answer. "I will let you know when we are ready to leave. We can send a message for Raven with your Chancellor to send up a signal flare when they have disabled the acid fog."
Clarke nodded and did her best not to overreact as Lexa laid a hand on her shoulder for the second time that day, squeezing gently before she turned and walked away.
Holy crap. As if this situation wasn't messed up enough already.
She took a breath and expelled it hard, hoping to shake the unnecessary confusions from her mind as she gathered herself together. She made her way down into the crater, a niggling voice in her head reminding her that she needed to talk to Octavia, to find out what the younger girl had or had not figured out about Clarke's agitation when she arrived in Tondc the day before.
She scanned the crater until she spotted her, Octavia frozen still as her eyes locked onto something. Clarke followed her gaze as she approached the brunette and saw Indra and Lincoln apparently reconciled in a warm embrace. She felt another flare of hope in her chest.
Looking back to Octavia again, she found the younger girl's gaze now on her.
"I thought you were dead," Octavia said, her eyes flitting back to Lincoln and Indra for a moment before she looked at Clarke again. "I'm glad you're not."
It was strange seeing again the depths of Octavia's transformation; being Indra's Second had evidently taught her the Grounder's ability to control the expression of her emotions as well as the ability to fight. And yet Clarke still sensed the warmth of her feeling and it made guilt crawl through her bones and fasten onto her lungs.
"You too," she managed to respond, just about meeting Octavia's eyes before the young warrior nodded and walked purposefully off to join her mentor.
At least she doesn't seem to have figured out that we knew yet.
The thought slimed its way into Clarke's mind and she wanted to retch. She watched for a moment longer as Octavia went to assist Indra back into her battle armour before she turned away, unable to bear her own guilt in the sight of those she had betrayed.
She found no reprieve however: she'd only walked a few paces away before she came face to face with her mother. Abby came to an almost reluctant halt, her eyes flitting away from Clarke's face while Clarke firmly composed herself.
"How's Kane?" she asked, swallowing as she met her mother's eyes.
We had to. We had no choice.
"He'll live," Abby answered after a few moments, apparently still finding it hard to look her daughter in the face. Clarke could only nod. "We could really use your help," Abby said in a tone of voice that suggested that these injuries were Clarke's fault and that Clarke should therefore do all in her power to help with healing them.
Clarke took a breath and resigned herself to receiving more judgement.
"I can't," she said firmly. "We're leaving." Abby's disbelief was plain on her face. "I've arranged for a caravan to take you and the wounded back to Camp Jaha."
"Clarke-" By this point, all emotion seemed to have drained from Abby's face but Clarke would not give her time to get started again.
"The sniper wasn't wearing a Hazmat suit," Clarke said simply, trying to stop the crack that appeared in her voice as she met her mother's eye, knowing she would understand what this meant.
"The marrow treatment works," Abby breathed, understanding flashing in her eyes.
"They're gonna kill all my friends." Clarke tried to sound matter-of-fact, to hold in the surging grief and anger in her chest. She watched as her mother digested this, some of that harsh judgement falling away.
"Then you'd better hurry," Abby conceded and Clarke nodded, moving past her, needing to get away. Just as she had passed her mother however, she felt a strong hand clasp around her wrist, pulling her back around. She met her mother's eyes, holding her gaze steadily now. "I need you to do something for me. Don't forget that we're the good guys."
Clarke had no idea how to even begin to process that. If the last few days had taught her anything it was that nothing about this was as simple as being 'the good guys' or 'the bad guys'.
How does she, Chancellor of the Ark, not understand that?!
Before she could even begin to formulate a response to her mother however, she saw Lexa approaching, purpose lengthening her stride as she walked.
"It's time," she said to Clarke as she passed and Clarke had never been more grateful for an out from a conversation.
She looked back to her mother and saw that she had stepped closer. Her mother reached for her, cupping her cheek with such tenderness that all the judgement she'd thrown at her since the missile almost seemed to dissipate. Almost.
"May we meet again," Abby murmured, her eyes searching Clarke's as she held her gaze for a moment. Clarke could only nod, attempting a reassuring smile that she knew had not met her eyes even a little bit. She stepped back and turned away, her eyes immediately searching for Lexa and finding undeniable comfort in the fact that she would be going with her and not with Abby.
She understands. She understands something that I'm not sure mum ever will.
A/N: Congrats, you made it to the end of the longest and most disjointed chapter ever! I hope it was at least vaguely enjoyable… Let me know either way. Seriously though, it's quite possible that you are sitting there thinking, 'She should really have quit while she was ahead…this story was good before and now it sucks.' It's a valid opinion and if enough people tell me that, I'll take a six month break and try again…it might help, you never know! As I said at the beginning though, I am going to try and finish this one way or another, but I will totally understand if you think I need to hit pause on my attempt before I completely ruin this whole thing.
…stupid 3x07…