Chapter 25: Morning Isn't Always Bright

Lexa stirred in the early hours of the morning as she was prone to do, but she lay there for a few minutes unwilling to rise so quickly when she felt the warm weight against her side. She turned her head and pushed her nose gently against the blonde hair splayed wildly across the furs. She inhaled deeply smelling the light floral scent of the soap Clarke had used earlier. She turned carefully on her side, nudging the blonde over on to her back. She was surprised but gratified the blonde kept sleeping. She lightly traced the length of the blonde's nose, and nudged a few curls aside and pressed a gentle kiss on the pale cheek.

It had been a long, hard night, harder than she had anticipated. She was exhausted from the restless shaking of the blonde's limbs, and her quiet murmurs that had kept her awake. At one point the younger girl had almost driven her from the bed with her shaking. She had unknowingly hit Lexa in the chest a few times, and Lexa had finally wrapped both arms around her in an attempt to soothe her, but instead she had pushed and pulled against the cage of Lexa's arms.

Lexa had felt her heart crack, and the fissions of pain almost took her breath away as she tried to sooth the trembling girl in her arms. She had felt her own tears burn her eyes, and her breath shudder in her chest. She felt the burning weight of each and every one of her sins, and she always would. And eventually Clarke had quieted, and her limbs had stopped shifting so restlessly, and she had slept. But Lexa didn't. Instead she sheltered the slumbering blonde in her arms and made silent promises that she prayed she could keep.

Lexa sighed and shook herself out of her reverie. She pulled back and studied the blonde for a moment. It occurred to her that she really didn't know if the blonde was normally a heavy sleeper or not, when she wasn't tortured with nightmares. Did she normally snore? Did she always murmur in her sleep? Did she steal the furs? She smiled at the thought of wrestling for more furs with the blonde during the cold months. But she sobered quickly at the thought of the days to come. She just prayed she would get the chance to know what it would be like to slide into bed with the blonde waiting for her, tangling their legs together, and falling asleep in each other's arms.

She sighed and gently unwound her arms from around Clarke and lay back down on her back, throwing one arms over her eyes. She needed to get up. There were plans to be made, and she still needed to explain to Clarke what was to happen in a few days' time.

"It is too early for you to be sighing so heavily," a sleepy voice murmured in the silence of the tent. Clarke rolled back over on her side and nuzzled her face into the brunette's shoulder, refusing to open her eyes. She pressed her lips gently against the smooth shoulder and finally opened her eyes. She was met with a bluish green blur, and as she eased her head back slightly, she realized she was face to face, almost lip to skin, to Lexa's tattoo on her right upper arm.

She stared at the tattoo for a moment, wondering what its significance was. No one else had a tattoo like this on their arm that she had seen, and she realized it might be specific to only the Heda. She flicked her eyes up mischievously taking in Lexa's profile. She could see the tightness in the elegant swoop of her jaw line, and she leaned back in and pressed her lips to the brunette's shoulder again. She opened her mouth slightly and slightly pursed her lips against the skin and sucked lightly, flicking her tongue out to taste the salt.

Lexa stiffened and then felt Clarke shift against her, but she still didn't say anything. Clarke smiled against the salty sweet flesh and sucked a little harder and was rewarded with the older girl's hips twitching. She pulled back slightly, and then flicked her tongue out and gently traced the design of the tattoo. She felt the girl shudder, and then a slightly breathless murmur. She laved the skin with her tongue and chuckled against a mouthful of flesh when she heard the petulant whine.

"Klaaark!" Lexa couldn't keep the whine out of her voice, and she fisted the furs in one hand. Her hips twitched at the feel of the other girl's tongue tracing her skin. She knew the whine was most unbecoming of a Heda, but she wasn't sure she particularly cared at the moment. Heda could be damned. Right now it was Lexa and Clarke, and when she felt the girl's hot mouth return to her skin, she groaned and turned quickly, pushing the blonde back down on to the furs.

Lexa chuckled at the girl's disgruntled look. "I wasn't done, Leska," she pouted.

Lexa leaned down and nuzzled under the girl's chin, nibbling on her jawline, "you are done for now, it is my turn." She shifted so she was laying partly on her side and just slightly on top of Clarke, being careful to not put any weight on her stomach. She sighed in contentment when she felt Clarke's arms come up around her shoulders and pull her into her body.

"I could get used to this," she muttered without really thinking as she spoke. She felt Clarke stiffen beneath her, and she cursed inwardly.

"But we can't get used to it can we."

Lexa winced at the dull, flat tone of Clarke's voice, and she rolled back on to her side, and pulled the suddenly reluctant blonde into her arms. She peppered soft kisses along her face, and she tasted salt on her lips.

"Shush, Klark, it will be ok. Much has happened, and I need to explain it to you, but first we should eat." She relaxed slightly when she felt the nod against her chest. She had been surprised at first that the blonde hadn't questioned why she had been released from the stockade, or hadn't questioned her last night about what was going to happen. She had been reluctant to speak of it at all, and it wasn't like Clarke. The blonde had never shied away from confrontation, always choosing to meet it with stark determination and strength. But she supposed after everything she had been through, she simply didn't want to hear about what she believed was her upcoming execution.

Truth be told, Lexa was slightly reluctant to explain the Rite of Championship to Clarke. She knew Clarke well enough to know that she was not going to take kindly to it. She knew she would have to convince Clarke to let Lincoln fight for her, and it would be a hard fought battle to get Clarke to concede. She needed to plan carefully how she was going to present it to Clarke so she would see reason, and understand that this was the best method.

She rolled up into a sitting position and stood, stretching, sighing as she felt her bones and joints pop into place. She quickly pulled on her pants and boots. She turned back to a sleep-mussed Clarke and held her hand out to her to help her out of bed. But she whirled around when she heard the footsteps storm into the tent, and she quickly scooped up her dagger and turned to face the tent flaps.

She snarled when she saw Bellamy barrel inside, "Clarke! Clarke! You need to convince Lincoln to stand down as your champion! I will fight in your place…" his voice trailed off when he saw a furious Commander snarling and advancing on him with a dagger in her hand. He gulped and raised both hands quickly, ignoring the bewildered blonde in the bed.

"Co-commander, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were in here." He continued to back up, realizing as he did that he was quickly running out of room, and the Commander truly looked as if she was going to gut him on the spot.

"Leska! Stop!" Clarke quickly scrambled out of bed, her mind whirling madly as she noticed how utterly furious Lexa was, not to mention she could clearly see the fear shining from Bellamy's eyes. She reached out and grabbed Lexa's arm, halting her only a couple feet from Bellamy.

"Leska, please. I would appreciate it if you didn't gut one of my closest friends, and one of the Skaikru council members." She tried to joke lightly to ease the tension in the tent. She sidled up closer to Lexa, leaning in to her body, "please, Leska."

Lexa snarled again but slowly dropped her arm. The fool! She just hoped Clarke hadn't picked up on what he had said. Naturally, she was out of luck.

"So," and Clarke turned and looked at Bellamy who had finally managed to rein in his fear and simply looked guilty when Clarke turned to him. She narrowed her eyes at him, "What is this about, Bellamy? What is this about Lincoln and a champion?"

She glared harder at him when she saw that he was looking beyond her, and he knew he was looking at Lexa. "Do NOT look at her!" she snapped, "You are talking to me, Bellamy, not Lexa. Now what is this about a champion?"

"Klark," Lexa tried to pull Clarke back towards her and hope she could redirect the situation that she knew was quickly going to quickly escalate.

Clarke jerked her arm out of Lexa's grasp and glared at her, "Is this what you haven't told me yet? Is this the plan? A champion?" She turned back to Bellamy and when she heard Lexa start to speak, she threw up her hand, "No, I want to hear from Bellamy, not you."

Lexa snapped her mouth shut, slightly bewildered that she was obeying the blonde. She was the Heda, no one spoke to the Heda like that, and by right she should say something, exert her authority; but instead she held her tongue. And she wondered why. She would surely need to revisit just how much power Clarke had over her.

"Oh. Um…well…I…" Bellamy continued to stutter as he shuffled his feet, realizing just how badly he had erred. He had thought Lexa would have already told Clarke what the plan was, but it was obvious she hadn't mentioned it yet, and he silently cursed her.

Bellamy flicked his eyes back and forth between the two women, noting both looked very displeased with him at the moment. He had really stepped in it this time, and he suddenly cocked his head towards the tent entry way.

"Wait…what?" He raised his voice, "What was that, Octavia? Ok I'm coming!" And he turned on his heel and fled out of the tent yelling over his shoulder, "Sorry, Octavia needs me."

"Coward!" Roared Lexa as she started to move past Clarke to follow him, intent on teaching him a valuable lesson in courage, but she was brought to an abrupt halt by Clarke grabbing her arm and jerking hard.

"Like hell you are going after him! You have a lot of explaining to do, Lexa!" Lexa cringed slightly at the sound of her name. It was harsh and abrupt spitting from the blonde's mouth, and she turned to face Clarke, her Heda mask slipping perfectly into place.

Clarke wanted to scream the moment she realized she was facing Heda and not Lexa, "Don't you fucking dare, Lexa!" she snarled as she threw both hands up in the air, feeling the anger burn in her chest as Lexa didn't even blink but just stared impassively at her. "I want to talk to Lexa, not the Heda of the 12 clans. This isn't just about our people, this is also about you and me, Lexa!"

Lexa simply stared at Clarke, trying to quell the irritation she felt as she stared calmly at the angry blonde, "we will talk later, Clarke, when you aren't so upset." She turned and moved around Clarke and started to pick up her armor, inwardly seething at Bellamy's blundering, and cursing herself for not having spoken to Clarke sooner.

She immediately stiffened when she felt Clarke firmly press herself against the length of Lexa's back. She felt thin arms snake around her waist, and she felt the irritation start to melt away at the feel of the blonde's warmth. She sighed when she felt soft lips on her neck and heard the whispered, "Leska." She raised her hands and clasped them over the blonde's that rested firmly on her belly.

She turned her head bumping her cheek into Clarke's nose, from where she rested her chin on Lexa's shoulder, "You don't fight fair, Klark," she murmured as she turned and craned her neck just managing to kiss the tip of the blonde's nose.

"I know." And Lexa snorted at the smugness in the blonde's voice.

"Well at least your honest about it," she chuckled.

"Speaking of honesty," and Clarke sighed as she walked around Lexa to stand in front of her, keeping her arms wrapped around the older girl's waist, "what is going on, Leska? It's time to tell me."

Lexa felt her heart slam against her ribs, and she stepped in closer to Clarke, wrapping her arms around the girl's shoulders and hugging her close. "Don't yell," she whispered in the girl's ear, "promise you will listen, Klark. Really listen."

Clarke felt her mouth go dry and her heart start to trip in time to her rising anxiety. She knew she wasn't going to like this. She had originally thought anything would be better than dying, but now she wasn't so sure.

"Ok, I promise to listen, Leska, but you need to promise to listen to me also," she bargained. She knew that as Heda, Lexa was not used to compromise. More often than not her word was simply law. The clans might have a governing conclave, but the real power lay in the Heda's spirit.

"Ok," agreed Lexa, rolling her eyes at herself for how quickly she had caved to the blonde. She really needed to stand more firmly against the other girl's wiles. But when she looked into soft blue eyes, she knew she didn't particularly want to rebuff Clarke. No, she wanted to be manipulated to a certain degree by the warmth in her eyes and the hot silk of her tongue. She shuddered and then quickly tried to cover it up by stepping from the blonde's arms.

"Come, let's sit and I will tell you what has happened."

"No."

"Klark, you said you would listen," said the brunette in exasperation. She wanted to pull out her hair at the calm, flat reply from the blonde. The conversation had not gone well, and the blonde was being as stubborn as she had imagined she would be.

"I did listen, Leska, and the answer is no. I will not let Lincoln or Bellamy be my champion."

"But, Klark, you must!" growled the brunette.

"No, I don't. The answer is no, Leska. I will not allow anyone to die for me."

"He volunteered, Klark! He is a strong warrior, he is fast, and smart. He can win, Klark!"

"No. I will not risk his or anyone else's life for mine, Leska."

"But he will win!"

"You don't know that! Tell me, Leska, what happens if Lincoln falls? He will die and then I will die anyway." Clarke sighed and felt her eyes burn with salt, "Leska, I chose to sacrifice Octavia once, I refuse to do it again. And if I accept Lincoln or Bellamy, I won't just be sacrificing them, I will be sacrificing her also. I won't sacrifice the man she loves or her brother." She reached out and cradled the brunette's face in her palms. "I wasn't lying, Leska, when I told you that day in the tent that I am done sacrificing my people. I will face the combatant."

"Bu-but, Klark," pleaded Lexa, "you aren't strong enough to face a combatant. The warrior will most likely be from the Blood or Wolf clans."

"Well, then, you have four days to train me to face my opponent," and with that Clarke rose to her feet and headed towards the tent entry way, intent on getting started. She stopped with her hand on the tent flaps, realizing that Lexa hadn't followed her. She turned and looked back, her heart clenching in pain when she saw Lexa sitting with her hands dangling between her knees, her head bowed. She saw the slightest tremors in the strong shoulders, and she felt the tears burn her own eyes.

"I'm sorry, Leska, but I have to face my opponent. I must be strong and answer for what I have done. I cannot afford to be weak, and you and I both know that accepting a champion really makes me look weak. It makes me weak. Even if my champion won, I would still lose with the clans. They would never respect or accept me. I have come too far, sacrificed too much, and fought too long to give up now."

She sat there, refusing to look up at the blonde, knowing she was correct. She wouldn't be able to convince the blonde otherwise. She didn't know if it was even right to try to convince her further. This was the real Clarke, the Clarke she had caught glimpses of during the war with the mountain. She had recognized that the blonde could be a leader that her people would gladly bleed for, die for. They would follow her without questions because she was strong, because she fought for them, bled for them, because she loved them; and refused to blindly sacrifice any of them any more.

She swallowed hard, still refusing to look at her. "You are free to walk about camp, but please take Mordecai and Linus with you in case there is trouble. Meet me at the shadowed rock when the sun is high."

Only when she heard the quietly worded agreement and then heard the blonde depart did she let the sob burst from her chest. One short, staccato burst. It exploded into the room, reminding her of the sound of the Skaikru bullets punching through the air. She felt like she had been pierced by one of their bullets, as her heart split and bled. But she only allowed herself one sob, before sitting up and jerking her shoulders back. Now was not the time for weakness or mourning. She had four days to make Clarke battle ready.

As Octavia liked to say. They were truly fucked.

Once back in her own tent, she called for Indra and waited impatiently for her to arrive.

She stood at her table, fumbling with the scrolls, trying to keep her nervous fingers busy. She shifted from foot to foot worrying over who would be best to train Clarke. She could choose Indra or Lincoln or even Fio. Or….or she could go with Plan B. But part of her strategy hinged upon who the combatant was. She glanced up when Indra finally stepped through the door.

"Have they chosen the combatant," she snapped as soon as Indra had cleared the threshold. If Indra was startled by the abrupt start in conversation, she hid it well, and walked over to stand near Lexa in front of the table.

"Sha, Heda. They have put forth the combatant." She hesitated, her dark eyes flickering to the girl's profile, noting the clenching of the jaw. She flicked her eyes down to the restless finger and then back again.

"Bardou of the Wolf Clan."

Lexa's fingers stilled for a moment. She had been hoping it would be the Blood Clan instead. The Wolf Clan warriors tended to be particularly vicious. The warriors often mimicked the animal they had taken as their totem. They filed their teeth into pointed edges to better rip out the throats of their enemies, and they wore special gloves that had long, hooked metal claws in the finger tips. She felt her stomach curl unpleasantly. The Wolf warriors preferred to fight in close. A typical warrior could easily shred Clarke to pieces.

"What do we know about Bardou?"

"He isn't young, but he isn't old. He doesn't seem to be quite as vicious as others of the clan," muttered Indra, "he is a formidable warrior, but not their best. He is impatient, but very strong. He is very strong, Heda. Very tall, but slow."

"Bardou….Bardou…" murmured Lexa, her mind trying to scrabble on to a particular memory. The name was vaguely familiar. And then she remembered and she snarled under her breath. "Does he carry an axe?"

Indra looked at Lexa in surprise, how had Lexa known that? Did she know him? "Sha, Heda. He carries a double headed axe. It is his weapon of choice, but like his people, he files his teeth and he wears the glove on his left hand, but not on his right, as he uses the axe with his right."

"He gave me trouble when I was trying to bring the Wolf Clan in to the coalition. I killed his younger brother, Bartho, who was an archer. He has a bone to pick with me," she laughed, but there was not humor in it. She wasn't sure she would ever laugh in joy again. It was Clarke who had made her laugh again after Costia, and if Clarke…She refused to continue the thought.

She turned and pinned her general with a hard stare, "I have four days to make her battle ready, Indra. I want to know everything about Bardou. What he eats during the day, how long he sleeps at night, how he polishes his axe, who is lover is," she took a step closer to Indra, "I want to know his strengths, his weaknesses. I want to know how many times a day he shits. Do you understand?" she all but snarled at Indra.

"Sha, Heda. I will find some discreet people in the town to report to us," Indra hesitated unsure if she wanted to bring it up at the risk of angering the Heda. She didn't want to remind her of the unsurmountable task ahead, but knew she needed to, "How are you going to get her battle ready, Heda?"

"I'm not. I can't train her myself, and I had originally thought you or Lincoln, but now..." her voice trailed off as she shifted uncomfortable wondering just how Indra would take the news. But she sighed and continued, " I have already sent for someone, and she should be here in a couple of hours. She will train Clarke." Lexa turned and walked back towards the dais.

"And what will the clans think?"

Lexa whirled back around and snarled, "I don't really give a damn what they think." She glared at Indra, knowing that she was simply asking the questions that needed to be asked, even if Lexa didn't want to hear them. She sighed.

"This particular person has no clan affiliation," she smirked at Indra's startled look, "so the clans can't claim that I am showing favoritism, besides I am handling it through General Kane."

"General Kane?"

"Sha. I will tell you more later when the time comes. You are dismissed," and she waved Indra away. She sat down in her throne with a heavy sigh, wondering if this would even work. The moment Lincoln had volunteered to be Clarke's champion, she had known that she would need a Plan B, so she had sent her fastest riders to the Tuxent Outpost in Jes, near Polis. And then she had told Kane her plan. He had agreed to the plan, pledging that the Skaikru would uphold their end of the deal if it could be made.

She sat there looking straight ahead, worried that the plan she had put in motion would simply lead to her own ruination, but if it saved Clarke…

"So, Fen Dal, it appears we will meet again," she murmured to the empty room.

A/N: So...yeah...Clarke did that. Most of you probably saw that coming. Btw...Bardou means "wolf who carries an axe." Seemed fitting. Thoughts?