Chapter 21: Heir
Lexa still couldn't quite believe what she just witnessed.
After leaving Anya and Raven the two had gone to check on Sevek. Having been unconscious by the time the scouts had found him and the two Skaikru with him, the odds of his survival were low. Nyko hadn't been able to do much for the young gona in the day since he'd been in the village.
Then Clarke had walked into the medical tent.
A portion of what she and Nyko discussed went over Lexa's head but she was still able to follow part of it. Although she had a strong feeling that was do to the bond passing her information as Clarke worked through the problem. Clarke's determination pretty much overrode all the other feelings either of them felt during the hour Clarke worked to stabilize Sevek.
One thing did make it through on top of the determination. Or maybe it was the cause of it.
"Not this one too."
The flash of darkness and rows of cages and the sheer horror that had accompanied that thought had chilled Lexa to the bone. Lexa worked hastily to hide her reaction so as not to distract Clarke but knew she hadn't fully succeeded when Clarke sent a pulse of reassurance to her over the bond.
Thankfully, Clarke quickly refocused on Sevek.
Lexa calmed as she watched Clarke work. It was fascinating to see her mate in her element. Nyko had done a good job stabilizing Sevek, but Clarke had access to techniques and knowledge that no one on the ground had. It was this difference that made her invaluable as a healer.
But it also limited her usefulness as many of the tools she was used to having access to up on their Ark were not here.
Sensing Clarke's frustration Lexa began sorting through the impressions and knowledge being given to her until she found the tools Clarke needed. From that knowledge she began searching around the medical tent until she found substitutes for what Clarke needed.
Each time Lexa returned to Clarke's side with another improvised tool a wave of gratefulness flooded across the bond leaving Lexa with a mix of positive feelings in response.
It was quite addicting.
Before long Clarke was able to complete the impromptu 'surgery' on Sevek. Clarke's knowledge told Lexa that he should now be fine with rest and limited movement until his wounds healed enough he didn't risk... 'reopening' himself.
The words sounded so weird in Lexa's head, but Clarke's grateful and amused smile made Lexa swoon just a little.
A sharp inhale of breath pulled Lexa from the depths of Clarke's eyes.
Nyko stood looking between the two women. Lexa could see the moment he put the pieces together, her blood running cold as he spoke the word she wasn't ready to hear.
"Haifisa."
A growl escaped her lips. Nyko immediately paled. Only Clarke's hand settling on her forearm prevented Lexa from stepping into the man's personal space.
"You will tell no one Nyko, or I will know who to tie to the post." He was already nodding his head in agreement before she finished.
"No one Haihe-" She growled, "Heda." A bead of sweat ran down the side of his face as the man bowed and beat a hasty retreat.
For a moment the hut was quiet beyond Lexa's labored breathing. Then-
"Haifisa? What's that mean? One of the gona called me that before the Mountain attacked."
If possible Lexa's blood froze even further even as she tensed under Clarke's grip. Images and emotions slammed through her faster than she could control and she had little doubt Clarke witnessed most of them through the bond.
"Haiheda. Haifisa. Haiteca.'"
"The Founders"
An image of Costia, her hand tracing delicately over the memorial of the three Founders inside the old temple in Polis.
The searing agony felt as Costia was torn from her. Clarke being taken by the Mountain. The desperation as she realized her worst fear was coming true. The knowledge that she was the Protector and she had failed.
"Failed. Failed. Failed. Failur-"
"LEXA!"
Lexa ripped her eyes open to find Clarke standing in front of her, hands clasped firmly on each forearm, eyes boring into her own.
"Breath Lexa. Breath. I'm right here. I'm okay. You didn't fail."
Lexa shuddered. She didn't say it, but Clarke still felt her denial, her deep seeded belief that she had failed in her duty. A duty Clarke likely didn't even understand from the onslaught of Lexa's break down.
Break down.
Lexa let out a wet chuckle.
She was Heda and yet here she was breaking down in her soulmate's arms because someone had called them both by their titles.
Lexa wasn't ready for this. She wasn't. But Clarke made no move to release her. If anything, the other woman's grip tightened as she sensed the path Lexa's thoughts were taking.
"NO. You do not get to pull away. Not without at least explaining to me what the hell is going on. This is more than just you being a leader and me an easy target. Please Lexa, just tell me. What is going on?"
Lexa took a deep breath and let it out. She was ashamed to realize she was trembling. That needed to stop first. She needed to be in control to tell this part. To tell Clarke of a history and duty she couldn't possibly have guessed prior to falling from the sky.
She needed to breath.
She wished Costia was here.
A sob broke free from her control.
Clarke's arms wrapped around her in a full embrace, pulling her against the blonde's chest.
"Shhh Lexa. When you're ready. Take your time. I'm not leaving you. Not now. Shhh. It's okay."
For a long while the two simply stood there. Lexa couldn't help but reflect on the last time Clarke had held her like this, after asking about Costia. Lexa really hoped this wouldn't become a pattern.
She needed to get a handle on this weakness before her enemies learned of it.
The Coalition might not survive once they do.
Lexa stayed quiet the entire way to her tent. Clarke, thankfully, understood Lexa's need for time and also remained quiet. The silence lasted until their late lunch was served, Lexa ensuring Clarke's bandages were changed while they waited on the food.
Lexa could feel Clarke's trepidation and anxiety and uncertainty building the longer her lips remained sealed, yet still Lexa couldn't bring herself to speak.
As the quiet discomfort grew stifling Lexa remembered something tucked away in the bottom of one of her chests. Relief and hope and a wave of melancholy rocked through to Clarke. The Skaiga paused to watch as Lexa retrieved the remembered item. When Lexa returned to the small table with a poorly bound leather book in her hands curiosity won out.
"What...?"
Clarke trailed off at Lexa's small head shake. Setting the book to the side, Lexa brought her chair around to sit next to Clarke's. Only once the plates had been shifted around and out of the way did Lexa slowly open the book.
On the first page was an image made of reds and oranges and browns and blacks.
Lexa knew the instant Clarke recognized the scene. Taking that as her que she spoke to Clarke for the first time since breaking down.
"This is the story of Polis, the Founding City, as recorded by the first Haiteca. It has been replicated many times since, but this is the original, gifted to Heda generations ago after a peace had been found for that age. C- Costia used it to teach at the orphanage."
The grief was heard in the faint tremble of her voice. But the echo of rightness as the thought of Costia having owned the book was completely in the bond.
Lexa watched as Clarke began to slowly flip through the pages.
After the image of the bombs dropping and the world on fire was one of deep grays and blacks and browns as the world reeled from the ashes. More images of the survivors followed, of the weather storms that wreaked havoc upon them, of the fighting for supplies and the struggle to adapt to a technology-less world.
Then the images began to change. A streak of color teased along the edge as Polis Tower came to life on the page. And with it a single figure. A peace was brought between the lands closest to the tower and a small settlement began to expand. But the peace was unstable, depicted in shadows that reached for the edges of the settlement and streams of dark red running from slumped shapes inside the settlement. The entire time that streak of color wound its way along through the backdrop of each image. In each the thread started with the single figure.
Towards the back of the book a streak of fire was depicted falling across half the page while the other half was taken up by a half-sunk ship crumpling against a shore. A separate thread snuck off the page from each half of the image.
Over the handful of pages leading up to the end the colorful thread wound between three separate figures as they moved throughout the shambled settlement. In each image the figures would be shown in the process of doing a specific type of action. Healing. Teaching. Protecting. Yet each time they were painted in such a way the viewer knew they were searching for something of the page.
The ever-elusive thread of color disappearing in the direction of their distraction.
On the second to last page the three figures are see at last together, the thread entwined around them. All around the three the image of what once was a menagerie of dark grays and blacks, shadows and blurs, was transformed into thriving colors and sharp lines; brightness in the wake of misery.
The last page did not contain an image in the same way as the others did.
Instead it contained words.
Four words.
Haiheda.
Haiteca.
Haifisa.
Triumvirate.
The two sat in silence for a long while after, both with their gazes fixed on the words.
Lexa could feel the weight bearing down on her once again. The knowledge of the roles she must fill, not just as Heda but as Haiheda - a title coveted and revered.
A title she had shamed.
Unbidden her eyes focused on Haiteca. Her thoughts again returned to Costia. To how gentle she was when teaching, how she could take ideas and concepts from one discipline and apply it to another. How clever she always seemed. How the story of the Founders was her favorite.
How she always knew Clarke was out there waiting to be found.
The feel of skin against her wrist resulted in Lexa flinching in instinct. Raising her gaze she found Clarke staring at her, eyes heavy with concern. Checking the bond Lexa realized she must have been silent for some time.
Must have projected her melancholy thoughts for her bond-mate to feel.
"They're known as the Founders. The Teacher, The Healer, and The Protector. The Founding Three. Legend says they followed the bond to each other and together built Polis into the neutral ground it's always been. As this is supposedly the original record, it stands to reason the claim is true."
Silence as Clarke processes the words. Then-
"You're saying that we're... them? Or like their heirs somehow?"
"The how is unimportant. To my people, we hold their titles. Triumvirate are extremely rare, likely due to how rare it is for those with mates from different clans to find each other. Because of this when those claiming to have such a bond come forward there is extreme reactions from both sides."
"You fear the worst. That the people will reject us?" Lexa refused to meet Clarke's gaze. "I know you do, I can feel it."
Her fingers flexed over a band of leather surrounded by metal.
"Yes."
It was soft, but it was still an admission. Lexa feared how her people would respond, knowing that Costia was dead, that Clarke was from an unknown tribe - potentially an enemy one. Lexa fear a lot of things.
How Lexa's failure to protect Costia may be used to destroy the Coalition. How Clarke's origin may be used to remove her from the throne and kill them both. How her people would respond if Clarke was killed also.
How the alliance was hanging by a thread that could be snapped at any moment if they aren't careful.
Lexa was finding herself more and more terrified of how certain parties will react upon learning about Clarke's existence.
A gruff call of "Heda" from outside the tent ended any further conversation. When Lexa got up to put the book away there was no curiosity in Clarke's gaze, only worry.