The air was chilling fast now so they stripped the two least gory Polis warriors of their vestments and finally received a pleasing warmth throughout their bodies. There was no time to waste retrieving wood for funeral pyres. The burnings would have to wait. Even though they were traitors, Lexa had no intent on leaving their spirits in such a state. With her mind clear, she could believe in reincarnation once more for all. It was comforting to know her loved ones were out there somewhere, born anew, experiencing the joys of life all over again.

Next they traded in their flimsy dress shoes for something far more substantial, boots that would allow for swift and devastating kicks should the need arise. Lexa was hoping that it would not, but she would not place all of her faith in such a reckless desire.

She still had no weapons and she refused to take Echo's sword or touch the machine guns before her. Clarke had no such problem and retrieved one for herself.

"Have you handled that instrument before, Clarke?"

"No," she replied, giving it a bit of a dubious look, "but I can't imagine it's that much different from firing a pistol." She pursed her lips. "Well, there's probably more of a kick back, but I'm sure I can handle it."

Lexa raised an eyebrow, debating whether or not to tell her to leave it be. There was probably no point. Clarke did as she pleased, always had. Strangely it was this rebelliousness that had caught her attention more than anything else in the beginning of their relationship, that had made her look upon Clarke as more of an equal, rather than a subordinate.

Before they left, Marta came over bearing gifts. She held out a sheathed sword and jewelled dagger. The sword was of exquisite craftsmanship; light, yet strong, exceptionally well balanced; and she couldn't help but marvel over the ease with which she wield it.

"These were my mother's," the elder said solemnly. "They were made before the holocaust." She shrugged. "Never had much use for them myself."

There was clearly a great deal of sentiment attached to them and she almost handed them back. It would be an insult to refuse such gifts. "I will bear them proudly."

Before she put the sword away, she noticed a foreign inscription along the blade, just above the hilt. She looked up at Marta questioningly.

"It's Spanish. It says, 'Of Love and War'."

Not long after this, Echo produced a bowl with freshly made war paint. Lexa hadn't asked her for this but she received this gift as well. Her markings were known far and wide. It might be helpful to wear them. She fastened her new found weapons to her borrowed clothing and then sat on the nearest tree stump in order to apply it.

The process was soon finished. Looking into her swords reflection, she was satisfied that she had been restored to all of her former glory and terror. She glanced up and saw Clarke examining, almost playing with the machine gun. Lexa frowned and called her over. Briefly she glared at the weapon.

"If this is about the gun..." Clarke began.

Lexa raised a hand to silence her. "It would do me a great honour to give you your Trikru markings."

Clarke seemed taken aback. "But I'm not even a real grounder yet, Lexa, let alone a warrior."

"You may be untrained in our methods, [something I hope to remedy soon] but you have the heart and mind of a warrior, Clarke, and that's just as important."

"All right," she replied eventually, with a curt nod.

Lexa stood and began applying the paint to her face, a slight smile spreading across her features.

"What's so funny?" Clarke asked, suspicion tinging her tone.

"Nothing. I am just very pleased to be doing this finally. I've imagined this many times."

There was a slight silence. "So what's our plan, Lexa? Once we get back to Polis, what are we going to do?"

"Whatever we must."

Clarke made a face. "Could you be a little less vague?"

"Keep still, Clarke, or this will not turn out properly." She caught Clarke's eye and smirked. "And I want your first time to be perfect."

Clarke rolled her eyes.

"Clarke. Be still."

A minute or so later Lexa had completed her lover's transformation. Lexa thought she was absolutely stunning and found herself becoming slightly aroused. She licked her lips, thinking back to their tussle on the training field and how Clarke had offered to wear war paint for her. The commander wished she had taken her up on the offer sooner, even if it would have been somewhat inappropriate to use it for purposes beyond those of war. Lexa was now mesmerized by her lips.

"That hot is it?" Clarke said, with a grin.

She blinked a few times and looked into Clarke's smoky eyes. "See for yourself," she said, handing her the hilt of the shiny sword.

Clarke observed herself for a long time without a single remark or smile or anything. Lexa was feeling rather put out by this lack of reaction. Finally Clarke looked away from her reflection and said, "Wow, Lexa, this is really...something. Well, we should probably get going now."

Clarke made to leave but Lexa put a hand on her arm. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Lexa," she said not looking at her, "everything's great."

"If you dislike my design, I can chose another. I admit I thought this was very fitting. Clearly you disagree."

Clarke sighed. "It's fine, Lexa, it's just..."

"It's just what, Clarke?"

"I look like one of those guys from KISS!" she blurted out.

Stupefied, Lexa reflexively released her arm and resorted back to her native tongue, "Chit?!"

"They were a hard rock band back in the twentieth century."

What on earth is she talking about?

Clarke attempted to explain further. "Um...they played music that was very loud and rowdy and wore crazy costumes and face paint. One always had a star on. It's fine though," she continued hastily, "you gave me two of them, so it's not even really the same thing. I'm just being stupid."

Echo came by then to retrieve the remaining paint and do her own face. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Clarke and openly gawked at her. Lexa was fuming now, this moment forever ruined.

"Take it off!" she said harshly.

Clarke shook her head. "Leave it be, Lexa, we've got more important things to worry about."

"I don't care! We can't have Clarke of the Sky People embarrassing herself!"

"Star Girl," muttered Echo, further incensing Lexa, causing her to lunge at Clarke in anger. Clarke dodged easily enough and grabbed Lexa from behind, attempting to still her agitated motions.

"Lexa, listen to me. It might not have been what I was expecting, but I love it all the same because you drew it for me."

"Don't say things you don't mean simply to appease me," she barked, struggling against Clarke's surprisingly strong grasp.

"She's telling the truth," said Marta, coming out of nowhere again. Lexa scowled at her too. "And Clarke's right," continued Marta, "you must leave soon if you are to prevent the march from Polis. They'll be leaving at first light."

Feeling picked on and defeated, the commander sagged into Clarke's backwards embrace. "Fine, you may keep the war paint on." Lexa shrugged out of her arms, surveyed the area to find Yarwin sleeping fitfully in front of the cabin again, and Waton securely tied to a tree. She would deal with him later, just like the bodies. Well, the human bodies anyway. Marta was on her own with the pauna.

"Let us go," she grumbled, head down.

As they slowly trekked the two miles or so back to Polis in just the moonlight, Clarke once more attempted to get Lexa to divulge her plan.

"I already told you, Clarke, we will do whatever we must."

"No offence, but that doesn't really invoke a lot of confidence."

Lexa was stony faced, concentrating on picking up any hints of assailants in the trees or surrounding area. Melys may have been fooled by the account of the pauna attack, or she may have not. A cautious leader would make sure to have scouts on the lookout before starting a war, no matter if there was a great wall for protection, no matter whether the enemy was completely unawares.

"I thought we were partners, Lexa," she continued sternly, gripping her forearm, and preventing their forward momentum. She turned Lexa, forcing eye contact. "Don't shut me out."

Lexa sighed internally. "You aren't going to like it."

"Just tell me."

She dipped her head somewhat, bracing herself for the blow back. "I am going to present myself to the army and let them decide where their loyalties truly lie."

Just like when Clarke saw her reflection, there was dead silence. This time however the wild fire ignited. When Clarke became impassioned like this, it was difficult for Lexa to think clearly.

"That's the stupidest plan I've ever heard!" she yelled, waving the machine gun around as she gesticulated. Echo eyed it warily but Lexa just stared at her lips. "And I've heard Jaspers'! Jaspers'! They'll probably just shoot you on sight! And if by some miracle they don't, and they turn on each other instead, you'll just be caught in the crossfire!" Clarke grabbed her shoulders. "I won't let you do something so reckless."

Kissing her right then most certainly wasn't a good idea, so she pushed aside her rising desire and focused on the star girl before her. "Clarke, the last time you went headfirst after the enemy, heedless of my cries, you almost died. Cage almost killed you." Clarke was about to retort. "You survived because of me. Because I would never abandon you. I need you to...watch my back in the same fashion."

"Even if I do, that's no guarantee! Goddamn it, Lexa!" she said, shaking her now. "I already dealt with your death! I can't go through that again!"

Lexa brought her hands up to cup Clarke's face. They just stared at one another for a time. "I'm sorry that you had to go through that, truly." There are few things worse than experiencing the loss of a loved one. "Unless you can think of a feasible alternative within the hour, I must do this. If the Polis army is allowed to march, all will be lost."

"Not all!" she barked obstinately, moving out of her touch. "Just The Ice Nation!" She glanced sideways at Echo who did not look like she wished to be dragged into this fight. "I'm with her on this one, why do you even care what happens to them?! They killed Costia!"

Lexa's heart lurched painfully at the mention of her first love. She wasn't sure those wounds would ever fully heal. Before she could be ripped apart further, the commander's facade came to her rescue.

"I have little animosity towards The Ice Nation itself. My wrath will be satiated one day against their Queen, but not like this."

"And what happens if they come after me before that day?!" she heatedly returned. "What then, Lexa?! Will you just go and slaughter them all anyway?! How will that be any different than what Melys is doing?!"

Lexa would not even allow herself to think about such an occurrence.

Even more stony faced. "You are allowing emotion to cloud your judgement, Clarke. Do you really believe Melys will stop with dominating The Ice Nation? Once she has a taste of true power, she will never relinquish it. She will become a far worse dictator than I ever was. This discussion is over," she finished, turning away and continuing along the darkened path alone.

Yeah, I sure know how to lighten up the mood during the holidays. :p