If anyone finds themselves disagreeing with the way I've written certain events and characters in this chapter, all I ask is that you withhold your judgment until the end, all will be explained them.

I AM A QUESTION TO THE WORLD, NOT AN ANSWER TO BE HEARD

OR A MOMENT THAT'S HELD IN YOUR ARMS

AND WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'LL EVER SAY, I WON'T LISTEN ANYWAY

YOU DON'T KNOW ME, AND I'LL NEVER BE WHAT YOU WANT ME TO BE

After swapping his old and filthy animal skin vest for a clean, loose fitting dark green long sleeved shirt, and strategically covering the wound in his forehead with a skin coloured paste brought to him by one of the healers, Aerrow found himself standing outside the Commander's throne room with trepidation. For a long time he stood there, working up the courage to open the doors – or perhaps trying to decide if he even wanted to open them in the first place.

Inside, he could hear many voices all talking at once. A lot of them seemed to be saying the same thing: "Commander no longer."

His need for answers overriding his nervousness at what may await him once he entered, Aerrow took a deep breath and, as quietly as he could, pushed open the doors and walked in.

The talking ceased immediately as every person in the room turned and looked at the new arrival. Internally, Aerrow wanted to cower and vanish under their judgemental stare. He saw ambassadors from each of the 13 clans (he had remembered being told how Kane had taken the brand that made Skaikru the 13th clan). At the head of the room was Lexa, as well as a bald, imposing man standing beside her throne, and in front of her, an incredibly fierce looking older lady with menacing scars around her eyes. He realised instantly that she was the Ice Queen, and had evidently been brought to trial for what her clan had done to the bunker.

It wasn't her eyes he froze under however. It was Lexa's

The Commander stared at him just as she had done when they had first met. Her gaze was piercing, as if she could see right through him, and second by second was evaluating him, piecing together his every thought and emotion, everything that made him tick. There wasn't anyone alive that had the ability to intimidate him, but she was one of the few who came close. Now, as then though, he didn't back down, and instead kept his face as hard and unreadable as possible.

"So, Aerrow kom Skaikru joins us. The fabled, Naja." The Ice Queen spoke, and Aerrow couldn't deny feeling a shiver run up his spine. There was something in her words... something cold... something calculating... and he didn't like it one bit.

Still, he couldn't afford to show any sign of weakness in front of any of these people, so he stubbornly held her glare and growled out, "I'm not Skaikru." And moved to the side of the room to stand behind Clarke, content to remain in the shadows and observe as the proceedings unfolded in front of him.

The Ice Queen kept staring at him long after he had stopped moving, and the entire time he could tell nothing of what she was thinking, before she eventually switched her gaze to Clarke.

"As I was saying, this is the law." she continued, "Only a unanimous vote of the ambassadors or death can remove a commander from power."

"It's not unanimous!" Clarke suddenly fired, surprising Aerrow with her conviction. He never could have guessed that Clarke would stand in support of Lexa – who had betrayed her and left her to die at the Mountain – but evidently Clarke had been in Polis a lot longer than he had, and there were other forces at work that he wasn't aware of, so he kept quiet and did his best to analyse and absorb every piece of information from this discussion as he could.

"We don't recognise the legitimacy of Skaikru!" The Ice Queen hissed venemously.

"Yes we do." The bald man spoke for the first time. "Last week, Skaikru took the brand. They are the 13th clan! This vote of no confidence fails!" He seethed, "All these coup plotters will suffer the same fate as the Ice Queen!"

"She won't take our heads because she knows our armies will retaliate." The Ice Queen stated confidently, smirking at Lexa, before turning to face the other ambassadors. "None of us here wants war!" She began.

"We both know what you want, Nia..." Lexa growled suddenly, the anger in her voice prominent, yet tightly controlled, just as it had been when she had been calling for Aerrow's death. She got to her feet and slowly descended down the stairs, sidling up to the Ice Queen – Nia.

"If you think me unfit to command, issue the challenge, and let's get on with it." She said lowly.

"Very well. You are challenged." Nia replied.

"And I accept your challenge." Lexa responded immediately.

Aerrow narrowed his eyes in evaluation. It was the exact same situation he had been in just a few months ago. Facing death, he had challenged her for command, and she had instantly accepted, with all the certainty in the world of a victory. That confidence had almost been her downfall, and whilst she may have 'won' the duel that day, it was Aerrow who had been the better fighter.

"Then so be it!" The bald man declared in trigedasleng, "Single combat, warrior against warrior. To the death." He paused, looking around the room as the reality of what was happening sunk in, before turning his gaze back to the two women.

"Queen Nia of Azgeda, who do you select to be your champion."

For a long time, Nia was silent. Slowly, deliberately, she turned her head to look directly at Aerrow, who was frozen under her cunning stare. He had a very bad feeling about this. If she chose him to fight... he had no idea what he would do...

"My son, Roan." She finally answered, not breaking eye contact with Aerrow as she did so, a knowing smirk upon her face. "Prince of Azgeda." She finished, finally turning to look at a man with hair just as long as Aerrow's on the other side of the room. Looking at him, taking in his stern, battle hardened expression, the calluses on his hands and the well defined muscles under his shirt, Aerrow could tell that not only was he Nia's son, but he was an extremely experienced warrior as well.

Having received Nia's answer, the bald man turned back to Lexa. "Who will fight for you?" He asked quietly.

In a way identical to Nia, Lexa didn't answer straight away, purposely drawing out the tension in the room. Instead, she turned away and walked back up to her throne, nd retook her seat. When she spoke, her voice was low, and dangerous. "I am the Commander. No one fights for me."

After the details for the time and the location of the duel had been established, the ambassadors had been dismissed and the Ice Queen had been returned to the room she was being detained in, three people remained in the throne room.

Lexa, Clarke and Aerrow.

He didn't know entirely if he was welcome to stay, but he still had many questions, and decided now was the time for answers. Clarke, however, beat him to it.

"Lexa, please, don't do this!" She practically pleaded, surprising Aerrow his the sheer desperation in her voice. Could it be that Clarke had... feelings... for the Commander?

"If this is worry for your people I'm hearing, you have nothing to fear." Lexa said calmly, turning away to look out the open window behind her throne. "I sent Indra to raise an army after the attack on the bunker. Your people are protected, as I vowed they would be."

Unnoticed by the other two, Aerrow winced at the comment, knowing that Indra's army was no doubt dead. Because he had failed. Again. He couldn't afford to let those thoughts in at this point in time though. He didn't understand why Lexa hadn't been informed of what had happened either. Surely that would have been the first thing Indra had told her upon their arrival in Polis. He could only guess that Lexa had been too focused on the Ice Queen to allow for any other distractions at the present time.

"This is not just about my people!" Clarke chased, her tone causing Lexa to turn and look at her questioningly.

"You don't stand a chance against Roan-" she told her forcefully.

"You've seen me fight!" Lexa bit back.

"I saw you lose!"

At Clarke's comment, Lexa flicked her eyes to Aerrow, her anger at the indignation not even attempted to be hidden. For his part, Aerrow kept a neutral expression, not wanting to be drawn into this.

"And I saw Roan kill three men in the time it took for the first one to hit the ground." Clarke finished. Her words piqued Aerrow's attention. So she had spent time with Roan? When? More questions that had no answers...

"If you're right, then today will be the day that my spirit chooses its successor." Lexa raised her voice, glaring at Clarke, "And you need to accept that."

Aerrow saw Clarke's upper lip twitch ever so slightly, and her eyes flash. He knew that look. She was already thinking of a way to avoid the duel, or, if it came down to it, a way to ensure Lexa won. "Like hell I do" she declared angrily, before turning and walking away without pause, leaving Lexa no chance to continue the conversation.

Still desperately seeking information, Aerrow made to go after her, but instead found himself called back by the Commander.

"Aerrow, wait." She spoke slowly, yet firmly.

Aerrow stopped instantly. Ordinarily, he would have kept walking, but there was something in her tone, and the way she said his name that drew his interest. For just about the first time, it wasn't hostile, like she had every intention of this being a diplomatic conversation.

Slowly, he turned back around, and locked eyes with her in confusion.

"I'm sure you're wondering why it is you're here." She stated simply, walking up to him with her hands clasped elegantly behind her back.

Aerrow paused before answering, instead trying to discern her motivations behind her actions. "Just a bit." He replied guardedly.

He fought the urge to swat her hand away when she raised it to his forehead and deftly wiped away the paste covering his wound, exposing the black circle of congealed blood.

Her instant reaction only added to his confusion. Until now, she had been totally unfussed about the changes to his physical appearance, but that went out the window when she laid eyes on the wound. He saw the way her breathing stilled, and her eyes widened every so slightly when she saw the obsidian blood. He saw a look of revulsion wash across her face as the realisation of whatever it was the colour was supposed to mean sunk in.

As he watched her struggle to control her usually unflappable emotions, he began to ponder what her next move would be.

He felt an involuntary shiver run though his entire body when he saw her reach for the small dagger at her side. He knew the grounders had hated him in the past for what he had done, and he could understand her own personal anger at him making her look weak in their duel, but he had died – or at least they believed he had – and had been reborn as a Qinta warrior. It was his understanding of grounder culture that when such reincarnation happened, all feelings of hostility were withdrawn, and all blood debts erased.

Without making a sound, Lexa held her hand up, palm facing him, and slowly slid the blade down it.

Aerrow's eyes widened in shock when he saw blood an identical colour to his start to drip. He was rendered speechless as his mind struggled to come to grips with what this could mean.

"You have been given a gift." Lexa told him quietly, with reverence, "The blood goes back to the first Commander. I don't know how this has happened, but it means you are a Natblida, and an heir to the flame. That is why you have been brought to Polis."

Aerrow felt his mouth go dry at her words. He still didn't understand most of what she had just said. He was a nightblood? An heir to the flame? He didn't know what that meant, but he guessed judging from Lexa's tone and her initial reaction, that he was in line – potentially at least – to be the next Commander. His brain raced. All those nights ago... he had challenged her for command as a joke, intending only to save his own life. Now he was faced with the fact that it could become a reality – especially if Lexa was killed in the coming duel – and he had no idea what to make of that.

"Is that why I'm here now?" He eventually rasped, "Some sort of induction?"

"No!" Lexa flared, her anger returning and her face hardening, something Aerrow noticed immediately. He was potentially the next Commander, but that didn't mean she in any way liked that fact, and the way she shut down his assumption so quickly told him there was more to the process than just that.

"I seek your advice." She finished simply, regaining her composure. Aerrow narrowed his eyes questioningly.

"Roan." She stated, before pausing, "I wish to know how to defeat him."

Aerrow's expression hardened at what she was implying. "You want my help?" He asked dryly.

"I want your advice." She corrected instantly and firmly, "Warrior to warrior."

Aerrow shook his head contemptuously. "No you don't..." He said lowly, folding his arms, "You need my help to beat him."

"I need nothing!" Lexa growled at him. The tension in the room escalated second by second as she walked up to him slowly, angrily, before hissing in his face, "I beat you before..."

"Don't delude yourself..." Aerrow interjected in an identical hostile growl, allowing a faint smirk to form. He had forgotten how fun it was to rile her up. "We both know who won that day, and because of that you doubt yourself now. You don't know if you can beat Roan in battle, so you go to the one person you think can."

He paused, for effect. "Go ahead Lexa, tell me I'm wrong." He dared.

When Lexa had no response, he knew he had hit the nail on the head. Lexa's pride and honour as Commander was refusing to let her admit it, but she knew it was true as well. He watched the same series of emotions – anger, pride, resolution – cross her face as, hard as she tried to keep them out, his words slowly penetrated her iron will.

Eventually, her eyes softened in admission and she bit her lower lip as she backed down. "You're right." She admitted quietly. "Only two people have ever been able to best me in combat. You are one of them."

"Who was the other?"

"It doesn't matter." She dismissed, "What matters is now. Are you going to help me or not?"

Aerrow was silent. He almost felt guilty for the resignation he saw her trying to hide, and he realised how difficult that must have been for her to admit. Help... he got the distinct impression that it was a word she was very much unused to using, much like he was. It was interesting, how alike they were in some ways, yet so utterly different in others.

Such as their willingness to fight.

Lexa's request brought back all the memories of the massacre, his latest failure. Whilst it didn't have such a traumatising effect on his conscience compared to others, this one was different. Other times he had failed himself, or other people he had barely known. This time it was Octavia who had asked him for help, Octavia who he had gone back for. This time, it was Octavia he had failed, and that weighed on him far more heavily than what could happen if Lexa lost the duel.

"No." He almost whispered after a long silence.

The surprise on Lexa's face was almost identical to Octavia's. He saw her open her mouth to speak, but he never gave her the chance. "I'm not that person anymore. I'm sorry, I have nothing to offer you."

For a long time, Lexa just stared at him, trying to understand why he had given her the answer he did. "I thought Qinta were less cowardly than that?" She scowled, deliberately baiting him, and this time, he couldn't stop himself from biting.

"They are!" He snarled, pausing while he tried to get his breathing and emotions under control, failing on both accounts. "They were..." He corrected himself sadly, looking away in shame.

"They're gone?" Lexa looked shocked

"By my hand." Aerrow sniffed, before steeling himself with anger "So I am sorry, Lexa, but no one else is dying because of me!"

Lexa was silent for a long time, just staring at him, evaluating him as she always seemed to be doing, observing the rapid swings in his emotions, and his sudden and surprising pacifistic stance.

"Very well." She said finally, moving back over towards her balcony.

"Come," she gestured towards him, "I would like to show you something."

Aerrow remained where he was for a moment, trying to work out what she was doing. Underneath her ego and her hostile words, he got the impression that she was up to something else. There was something in the way she phrased her questions, then immediately focussed on him for his response. It was almost like she was... testing him...

Slowly, and not breaking eye contact with her the entire time, he moved towards the balcony, only looking away when he was past her, and standing at its unprotected edge, looking out over the city around them.

And then he heard it.

His enhanced senses picked up the faintest of sounds of shifting sand as she lifted a foot off the ground...

The most miniscule change in weight on the concrete he was standing on as she leant back.

The barest whoosh of air as she brought her foot towards him to kick him off the balcony.

What happened next, did so in the blink of an eye.

One moment, Lexa had been about to kick Aerrow off, just as she had done to the Ice Nation ambassador, simultaneously ending his life, and his chances of succeeding her as the next commander. The next, in a movement faster than she could register, he had spun around and deflected her kick, and then used her own momentum against her to grab her shoulders and hold her precariously over the edge.

Lexa had no idea what had just happened, or how he had known what she had been about to do. All she knew was the horrifying drop beneath her, and that all Aerrow had to do was let go, and it would be her that plummeted to the ground, not him.

She locked eyes on him, desperately trying to keep the fear out of her eyes, instead daring him to let go and kill her.

She was surprised then, when she saw his eyes flash mischievously, and the corner of his mouth twisted into a wry grin.

"First lesson." He said suddenly, before pulling her up, and swinging her around, pushing her forcefully back into the room. She was quick to regain her footing, and turned to face him in shock, only to find him standing unassumedly in front of her, as if nothing had even happened.

The only noticeable change was his eyes. Where only they had been detached, resigned, now they were hard, focussed, as was his voice when he spoke. "You have to be willing to do what's necessary."

Incensed, Lexa drew her sword and charged at him, aiming a number of attacks, all of which he evaded with not a small amount of effort. He might have been enhanced, but in no way was Lexa a slouch.

In truth, she wasn't really trying to kill him, not since he started fighting back. No, this was what her version of 'advice' looked like.

"Read your enemy. Learn their strengths, learn their weaknesses, but don't overplay your hand." He told her, in a way that wasn't far from a taunt in between dodging attacks and taking rapid breaths of air.

He intercepted her sword hand, then swung her around, pinning her arm behind her back. "You're too aggressive. That was your mistake against me."

Lexa growled in frustration, and stomped on his foot before jabbing her elbow into his side, twisting away and freeing herself, before resuming their deadly little dance. It hurt her, that he was able to evade her attacks like this. Even though she wasn't trying her hardest, she knew he wasn't either, and his advanced Qinta training combined with whatever had come with his altered appearance made him the best – and most infuriating – opponent she had ever fought.

"Disguise your attacks... allow them the illusion of an advantage..." He continued, more actively aiming strikes of his own now, rather than simply dodging or deflecting. "and when you make your enemy think you're doing something with one hand..."

She cut him off when she finally landed a solid blow – the hilt of her sword, straight to his face – and sent him to the ground. He was quickly back on his knees, but she didn't give him any opportunity to recover, instead kicking him hard in his thigh, intending to drop him, only to have him latch onto her own leg as he fell, and drag her down with him.

Briefly, they rolled on the ground, coming to a stop with Lexa straddled on top of him. With her advantage of leverage, she instantly made to bring her sword to his throat and claim her victory, when she felt something hard and sharp pressing against her stomach.

She looked down in shock to find him holding a knife against her flesh. Her knife. Her eyes widened at his tenacity. He must have grabbed it out of its holster on her leg when they were rolling.

The victory was his.

Breathing heavily, and angry at another 'defeat' at his hands, she locked eyes on him, to find him staring back not with triumph, or arrogance, but respect. Focussed, serious respect.

"You strike with the other." He finished, not breaking eye contact.

It was at that moment that the doors to the throne room opened once more. Lexa was quick to get off of him and regain her composure, and they both stood as Titus – the bald man from earlier – solemnly walked in.

"Commander... it's time."

The steady, yet ominous beating of a drum echoed through the streets of Polis as a large crowd gathered around an open clearing in which stood the two champions: Lexa and Roan. Neither dared look at each other, instead they stood with their eyes firmly forward, focussing on the battle to come.

On an elevated stage in front of the two, Titus got to his feet and declared, "In single combat, there is but one rule: someone must die today."

The gathered crowd cheered when he gave the order for the fight to begin, eager to see the outcome of this much anticipated duel.

From his position just off to the side of the stage, next to a group of children he had been escorted to the fight with, Aerrow observed as Roan drew his sword. It was a heavy blade, designed to be wielded with power, rather than technique and precision.

He switched his gaze to Lexa, and was surprised to find her standing face to face with Clarke, evidently discussing something. She then drew her own sword. He saw that it was almost an opposite in design to Roan's, far lighter and easier to swing. It almost looked like, after her old sword had been destroyed, her new one had been forged to resemble his own coandite blades as closely as possible. Interesting...

No sooner had she done this, did she sweep her eyes across the crowd, seeking another out: him

When she found him, she locked eyes with him, eyes focussed and jaw set in steely determination. Aerrow gave her no other encouragement than the slightest narrowing of his eyes, and the smallest nod of his head, and action she returned.

It was then that he noticed Roan sneaking up behind her whilst she was distracted, hoping to strike a killing blow before the fight had even began.

Just when he got close enough and everyone – Aerrow included – was sure of what was to happen next, Lexa span around in a blinding turn of speed, blocked his attack and sliced her own weapon across his back as his momentum carried him past her.

Aerrow allowed himself a small grin. It was an identical move to the one he had performed on her earlier on the balcony, and in doing it, she had won the crucial psychological advantage in landing the first blow.

Outwardly, Roan showed no signs of being affected by the glancing blow, and the two warriors circled each other briefly, sizing each other up before Lexa attacked.

Eager to keep her advantage, she absolutely threw herself at Roan, leading with a series of perfectly telegraphed, and expertly performed swings and jabs. Roan though was up to the challenge. His defense was flawless as he blocked her every move with his thicker sword.

Aerrow began to feel uneasy. She was making the same mistake again, going too hard, tiring herself out while allowing her opponent to assess her skill, and as soon as the opportunity came, Roan struck, locking swords with her and bringing a halt to all her momentum as he used his superior strength to force her to her knees.

Desperately, she sacrificed one hand's grip on her sword to instead grasp the blade of Roan's, drawing gasps of horror from the crowd as her black blood began dripping to the ground.

You have to be willing to do what's necessary

Shifting her weight, she caught the prince by surprise, and was able to lever out of his lock and land a solid blow to his face, causing him to drop his weapon – which Lexa immediately claimed.

Surprised and desperate, Roan scoured the arena for a weapon. He found it in a pike held by one of the guards – which he was instantly relieved from courtesy of a knockout blow by Roan.

Both Lexa and Aerrow watched as he twirled the weapon expertly around his body, getting a feel for its weighting and balance – but also giving Lexa a clear idea of his fighting style with it.

Read your enemy. Learn their strengths... learn their weaknesses.

Lexa adjusted her grip on her swords, bringing them in front of her in a classic dual-wielding pose – one identical to that which Aerrow himself used.

She allowed Roan one swing, which she ducked easily and then... when the moment was right... she attacked...

She never stopped moving as she span her swords with incredible dexterity around and around, in a ceaseless attack that had Roan instantly on the back foot, and it was all he could do to keep up with the sheer speed of her movement. Even Aerrow was impressed. That was not an attack she had been able to use when he fought her. It was a Qinta attack. More than that, it was his attack, the same one he had used to defeat her when they first fought.

It was not a move of cowardice, to copy such a lethal attack. It was intelligent, and brutally executed, only brought to a halt when Roan managed to jam his pike between the two swords, before, in a rapid counter attack, he knocked first one... then the other... from her grip, and sent her to the ground with a hard kick..

Aerrow felt his heart rate rise a little as he watched Roan stand over her, absently flipping his grip on the pike in preparation to deliver the final blow. Lexa meanwhile was just lying there, as if waiting for the end. What on Earth was she doing?

It was then that Aerrow caught a faint glimpse of reflecting sunlight, and he could only shake his head and grin. He knew exactly how this fight was going to end.

When you make your enemy think you're doing something with one hand...

Roan – smirking with the satisfaction of his victory – wasted no time in bringing the pike down, hard.

Only for Lexa to launch back into action.

She deftly rolled to the side, avoiding the death blow, and nimbly kicked his ankle. Ordinarily, the blow would have done no damage, but it wasn't her boot she hit him with. It was the tiny knife strapped to the side of it.

It had been her plan all along, Aerrow realised, to distract him, give him the illusion of victory, and then strike at the only time there was a gap in his rock-solid defense.

You strike with the other...

Hissing in pain, Roan dropped to one knee, allowing Lexa to get back to her feet and flip out of range of the pike.

Roan was quick to get back up, and kept aiming swings at her, but now Lexa was in complete control. She easily evaded the pike – just as Aerrow had evaded her – before she saw him over-extend, and she made her final move.

She grasped the pike, yanked it from his grasp and immediately swung it at his already injured ankle. The prince roared when it connected, and barely managed to block Lexa's next swing with his wrist guard. Unfortunately that left him exposed as Lexa brought the other end of the pike up and delivered a brutal blow to the underside of his chin.

Roan was thrown onto his back, and there he lay, unable to move after being dealt such a blow. Where only moments earlier their places had been switched around, now Lexa stood over him, aiming the pointed end of the pike directly at his heart.

"Get up!" The Ice Queen suddenly shouted at him, rising from her seat overlooking the battle, "If you die, you don't die a prince. You die a coward."

Roan though was too exhausted, too beaten and broken to do anything. He simply glared up at Lexa. "Get it over with." He dared her

"Blood must have blood." She growled, pausing for a moment before – in a move that stunned the entire crowd, Aerrow included, she adjusted her grip on the pike and threw it with deadly accuracy right into the heart of the Ice Queen.

The crowd gasped as they watched Nia, the formidable, and long feared Queen of the Ice Nation, slowly collapse back into her chair and close her eyes for the final time.

All was silent. No one knew how to react. And then, amidst the shock, Lexa spoke.

"The Queen is dead!" She announced, before looking down at Roan, "Long live the King!"

She dropped her weapon, and stood tall.

And the crowd erupted into cheers.

Lexa simply looked out at the crowd around her as they chanted her name. Despite all the allegations, all the claims she was weak, the consequences if she lost, she had prevailed. And the crowd loved her for that. She saw Clarke simply staring at her in admiration, overwhelmed with relief that she had won.

Aerrow meanwhile, was just as stunned as the rest of them. No way would he have predicted that outcome. He had thought for sure at one point that she had made the same mistakes again, and that she was going to die because of them. But she had proven him wrong, taken his advice – along with some of his signature moves – and emerged the victor, and now all he could do was clap along with the rest of the crowd in appreciation for what she had accomplished. Not even he could have done what she did – win the battle in such convincing fashion, deliver a crude but deserved justice to the guilty party, and win back the respect of her entire people.

No, that was something that Lexa – and only Lexa – could have done.

Hearing the crowd chant their support, he finally realised what it truly meant to be Commander, and why nobody was more perfect for the role than Lexa.

Later that night, long after the celebrations had died down, Aerrow was startled by a sudden rapping at the door to the room he had been given after the fight.

Cautiously, he got to his feet and opened the door, and was surprised to find none other than Lexa standing in front of him.

She was clad in a heavy animal-fur outer robe, under which was a simple black nightgown. Her feet were bare and around her injured hand was a fresh bandage. He could tell she had just come from seeing Clarke.

"You come here to gloat?" He asked roughly, and somewhat icily. Despite what had recently happened between them, he still had no idea what to think of her, much less what she thought of him.

"To apologise." She corrected softly, causing Aerrow to furrow his brow in confusion at her choice of words.

"Clarke told me what happened to you at the Mountain." She explained, "Turning two people into one... it sounds... barbaric."

Aerrow winced at the ever painful memories, but internally he was surprisingly grateful for her simple, yet effective words of sympathy.

"It was in the past." He said quickly, wanting to change the subject.

A moment's silence passed between the two. "I ought to thank you as well." Lexa admitted, causing him to raise an eyebrow. "Without your... help... the outcome today might have been different."

"No." Aerrow shook his head in denial. "What happened today, that was all you."

"Maybe... but I can't deny I learned a great deal from you today." Lexa told him gently. She paused as she took a breath in, "In time, I hope there will be things you can learn from me too."

Aerrow's eyes widened in both confusion and surprise, ever since the battle, he had given no time to think about what the future would hold, and Lexa's comment was very interesting indeed. She would be teaching him?

"What happens to me after today?" He asked, voice slightly shaky with apprehension.

Lexa levelled her gaze at him, and smiled – the first time he had ever seen her smile.

"You train as a Natblida, and one day, when the time comes, you may yet prove yourself worthy of being the next Commander, Aerrow kom Nou Kru."

Aerrow of No People

At 6000 words, this is by far the longest chapter I've ever written, but damn I'd be lying if I said it also wasn't the most enjoyable, and it marks a shift in the focus of this story, from focussing on Aerrow's mentality to actually progressing the plot.

I will admit I'm not the biggest fan of Lexa – or at least, not the Lexa/Clarke dynamic, as I found her character much more preferable when she is on her own, such as in 3x04, which is why I chose this time to slot Aerrow into Polis.

Don't worry, There will be absolutely no Lexa/Aerrow, but they will be having more interraction, because that is what made this chapter so much fun to write. The tension between them, plus how similar their characters are at their core just makes it so easy to write them, and I love it.

I did my best not to make Lexa seem 'weak' or reliant on Aerrow's help, but at the same time I needed to bring out that vulnerability – in both of them – to get the character development in both of them. Aerrow puts Lexa in her place, just as she does to him.

That's all for now, I really hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it, and get keen for the next chapter where Aerrow is introduced to the rest of the nightbloods.