The look of pained confusion on Katja's face as she met Lexa's eyes was something that would haunt the Commander's nightmares for weeks to come. The Azgeda blade ran black, the blood from the girl's torso combining with that from the wounds on her hands as she wrapped her fingers around the protruding blade.
Lewan spun away from Ontari's lifeless body, his own face contorted in an expression of black-splattered anguish as he scrambled on his knees, barely managing get a hold on his slumping charge before she hit the sand. Effortlessly, his lifted her by a fistful of cloth at her shoulders, dropping his other arm behind her knees and curling her gently into his arms, careful to avoid jostling the sword. The look he shot Lexa was hard, practiced, but underneath Heda caught the edge of panic and it spurred her into action.
"Farrah!" The call echoed above the commotion of the arena and in a second, the imposing guard was at the Commander's side. "Farrah, you have command of the guard, take Titus, summon Nyko and the Krones to chambers. Protect the priest as you would me, get them to the Tower. Do it now."
The woman thumped her fist to her chest and bellowed to rally her fellow guards. Lexa touched Lewan briefly on the shoulder shifting his focus back to her.
"Go with Farrah, my guards will see you safe to the Tower. I will come as soon as I am able but I must see to things here first. Whatever you need you will have it, you have my word," she hesitated a moment as though there were more to say, but then rose and left them, squaring her shoulders and striding back towards the throne.
It was over an hour before the Commander found herself sprinting through the network of underground tunnels towards the Tower. As much as she had wanted to go immediately, the treachery of Azgeda and the confusion of the Trial left the Coalition a powder keg of uncertainty.
Her first move was to declare an end to Nia's rule and banish even the mention of the woman's name from her ears. She ordered both Ontari's and the Ice Queen's bodies disposed of as traitors, withholding them from proper ceremony and ensuring their Clan was given no chance to pay any sort of respects to their fallen leader. She then installed Roan, Nia's only son, as Azgeda's new king. His allegiances weren't exactly clear, but Lexa had little choice seeing that succession in the northern Clan was familial. The last thing she needed right now was accusations of meddling in Azgeda affairs.
To the nervous, milling crowd, she offered reassurance, confirming the successful completion of the Trial, the re-institution of the 'Kovakeryon to the Council, and the organization of a great feast to celebrate upon the recovery of the victorious warrior.
Though Heda appeared composed and focused, her thoughts were elsewhere. She mentally counted the seconds and minutes as they passed, marking when Farrah would have reached the Tower door, the elevator, the chamber; when Nyko would have arrived…Every ounce of her being pulled her towards the injured girl but she fought it, staying until all questions were answered and the atmosphere somewhat settled.
Finally, as the last of the Bandrona spoke their acceptance of her decrees, she stalked off towards the entrance to the tunnel leading to the Tower, careful to keep her steps measured until she was out of sight of the arena before breaking into a full run.
The elevator creaked noisily, interrupting the Commander's rapid fire thoughts. Lexa took a deep breath and smoothed out the material of her sash, forcing her features into their normal, imposing arrangement. The doors had barely opened enough to fit between them but Heda slid gracefully through the tiny gap, turning left and making her way towards the end of the corridor.
A serving girl rushed by in the other direction, wide-eyed and carrying a large pile of tousled, black-stained sheets. Lexa picked up her pace, not bothering to knock before pushing open the thick wooden door. Titus fluttered towards her immediately, but she brushed him aside with an impatient wave of her hand. She had no patience for his council. Nyko and the priest barely acknowledged her presence from their position around the bed, as both were stooped in concentration. The Azgeda sword, now removed from the girl's torso, glistened threateningly on the nearby table.
"Report." Dozens of questions - how is she?, what is the damage?, will she live?, was there poison? - threatened to spill from her lips but Lexa knew no other approach than that of Commander. She clasped her hands behind her back to stop their desire to fidget and stepped towards the two frantically working healers.
"Commander," Nyko offered a quick bob of his head in greeting, "as you saw, the sword entered from the back and exited through the front. The angle of the thrust was fairly straight, and the sword was, odd to say, too sharp to cause a lot of tearing damage. It is a clean puncture, but in a very dangerous location."
Lewan watched the exchange carefully, noting the muscle that worked along the Commander's jaw, belying her otherwise calm facade. The concern that the woman had shown at the arena, and this urgent visit suggested that whatever Katja had been doing to curry favour, she had been at least somewhat successful.
Heda risked a look at the girl, noting with alarm that her face was ashen, a sort of sickly grey that made her appear even paler than usual. The fingers of one black inked hand lay, still and relaxed in stark contrast to the white of the sheets. "You," she looked at Lewan now and the permanent worry line that deepened between his brows, "tell us what must be done. My healers are excellent and familiar with natblidas; they are at your disposal."
"Commander," he managed a bow while maintaining strong pressure against the wound, "we are doing what we can. The Amin is, in spite of what some may think, only human. We believe, " he shot Nyko a respectful nod, " that the blade missed the vital organs, but did hit bone. There were slivers of it along the margin of the wound."
"The fact that she has remained somewhat stable," Nyko added in, "is as good a sign as any. Had an organ been punctured, we would certainly have lost her by now."
Lexa's chest squeezed painfully and she hid her discomfort by spinning to examine the sword. It was simple, straight and savagely sharp. The mere sight of it reminded her of Ice Queen's attempt on her life and the cowardly actions of Nia's prized pupil. Impulsively, she picked it up, shifting it from hand to hand several times before whipping it end over end at the mantel. It struck with a solid thud and quivered with the impact, the steel of the blade now burning orange from the reflection of the firelight.
Both men paused to watch it a moment, surprised by the the Commander's display of frustration. Titus placed a hand on her arm and whispered something too low for either of them to hear, to which Heda nodded. The lanky man left quietly, leaving on the Commander and the two healers with the girl.
"As much as I would like to remain, there are Coalition matters that require my attention. I will return as frequently as possible, but expect to be summoned immediately should there be any change in her condition. Is that clear?"
"Sha, Heda." Nyko answered, preparing a smooth paste known to act as a clotting agent in a stone bowl. "You will be the first to know, I swear it."
"Mochof, Nyko." Lexa lingered, approaching the bed once more and hesitating, flexing her fingers thoughtfully before shifting to pin Lewan with a uncertain stare. "Can she…not heal herself?"
"I do not know Heda, she has not faced an injury such as this before and the limits of the gift are not known. Under normal circumstances, she herself acts as a sort of siphon or filter for the illness and pain of the other. It seems unlikely she could do the same for herself." He met her eyes evenly. "It is safest, I believe, to proceed as though she cannot."
"Very well," Heda hid her disappointment and turned to the door. "I will leave you to your work. With Nia dead, and victory at the Trial, I'm certain you both know how important it is that she live."
"Sha, Heda."
The Commander left without another word.
The remainder of the day stretched on like an eternity. Titus had sent riders out for Roan, now King of Azgeda, who had not been in Polis at the time of Nia's death. It was no secret that there was no love lost between mother and son, and Lexa figured the news would be met with a smile. Honouring his right to the throne had been strategic, an olive branch in search of a new, more hospitable relationship with the northern nation. It remained to be seen whether or not he would come to the table.
She left Sadie in charge of celebration plans. Premature surely, but best to proceed as though the 'Kovakeryon's recovery was a certainty. She herself had no interests in deciding courses and seating arrangements, she barely had time to eat a plain dinner of bread and milk before being dragged into chambers by the bureaucracy of the capital. A summon from Nyko never came, positive or negative; perhaps that was somehow worse because it allowed her brain to flit endlessly through the possibilities.
The moon was high by the time she left and though every bone ached with exhaustion, still she steered her body not towards her own chambers, but to a room several floors lower. Inside she found an unexpected state of quiet. Nyko was propped awkwardly in the small wooden chair in the corner, his head resting against the wall and his mouth slack in sleep. Katja lay on her back, arms at her sides, unmoving and unconscious.
She frowned before feeling eyes upon her and shifted her attention to the priest, who was sitting still as a statue by the fire, glittering eyes regarding her curiously. She lowered herself to the rug beside him, ignoring his surprise.
"What news?"
"Stable Heda. Nothing more I'm afraid."
"And recovery?"
"Not a certainty. I wish my news were better. The injury was severe, it was sheer luck that nothing vital was pierced. I trust that the Azgeda traitors have been dealt with?"
"Indeed. I have also reinstated the 'Kovakeryon to the Council as a result of the Trial. The Clans have accepted." Lexa shifted to stare at Katja's inert form, though she continued speaking to the priest. Her voice was soft; thoughtful. "Should she recover, she will need you now more than ever. Polis, as you now know, can be quite vicious."
"Do not underestimate her Heda. You will need her. She can be your strength, your stability…"
"I do not need someone to be my strength." The Commander narrowed her eyes, bristling slightly against his suggestion.
"There are many types of strength Heda, I meant no offence." Lewan clasped his hands together but did not look particularly troubled. "It is difficult to be all kinds at all times. The Commander need not bear the burden alone." He looked pointedly at her, taking in her obvious exhaustion.
"The Commander, by definition, bears that burden alone, priest. It is the destiny of the Keeper of the Flame."
"You sound very much like her." Lewan chuckled quietly at Lexa's fervent declaration. "I supposed I should as well, being a kepa. There is no guidance in the texts, however, beyond ceremony, for how to navigate the reintroduction of a centuries old position. This is new ground for everyone, and change is not welcomed by all."
Lexa offered a noncommittal grunt.
"It is my greatest wish that despite a difficult beginning, you will both learn to trust each other. Heda and 'Kovakeryon, together, will usher in a new era for our people."
"First she must live."
It was Lewan's turn to mutter under his breath and sigh.
"Has there been no change then?"
"None of note Heda. We have stopped the bleeding and closed the wound but that does not guarantee anything. She has lost a lot of blood and if her body recovers, progress will be slow."
"I need her position cemented immediately. The Council has accepted it in theory only. The sooner she is seen and heard, the sooner we can move forward."
"Understood Heda." He gave a small bow of his head. "And agreed. The fisa and I will do what we can."
"I app—"
One of her guards burst through the door, interrupting her mid-sentence. She turned to scold him as she rose, but his heaving chest and wild eyes made her pause.
"Heda!" He hastily saluted, having the good sense to look somewhat sheepish at having barged in unannounced. "Moba, I did not mean to interrupt. The Fleimkepa has sent me to request that you in the throne room. Said it was urgent."
"The Fleimkepa summons me now does he?" She watched the man's face pale slightly. "And what, exactly, is so urgent?"
"Riders, Heda. From the West. Roan kom Azgeda arrived at the city gate and makes his way towards the tower now."
"Riders, plural?"
"She, Heda. Roan brings a captive…"
Nervousness flickered in the pit of her stomach. When last the Commander had seen Roan, he had been eager to escape the capital and his mother's watchful eye. She knew he was keen to angle himself towards the northern throne, and he had promised to bring proof of his loyalty to the Coalition and to Lexa herself. With Nia's treachery already unveiled and dealt with, she could think of only one prize that could accomplish both of his goals.
"…Klark kom Skaikru."
"You are certain?" Lexa blinked rapidly, trying to calm the pounding of her heart.
"Sha, Heda. The Fleimkepa said it had been confirmed."
"You will excuse me." The Commander shot a quick glance at Lewan, who was watching her carefully. The man merely quirked a brow in response and gestured towards the door. Lexa required no further encouragement and headed quickly for the throne room, the messenger hot on her heels.
She didn't know what sort of reception she had been expecting from Clarke, but the feral, snarling, aggressive creature that entered the room shortly after her own arrival was certainly still shocking. Her golden hair had been dyed a deep maroon, no doubt as a measure of disguise that had helped her elude Lexa's scouting parties for as long as she had. She was mudstreaked, filthy and ragged, pulling against the restraint of her captor as though to charge directly at the Commander.
Roan cleared his throat noisily. Heda had not even acknowledged his presence. He squeezed Clarke's arms harder as she struggled in his grip, sorely tempted to backhand the surly girl across the face. Travel to the capital had not been pleasant.
"Roan kom Azgeda, you are welcomed back to Polis." Lexa fought the nausea that creeped up the back of her throat. She could feel Clarke's hard stare, laced with hatred, and the weight of it made her ill.
"Mochof, Heda. I was on my way back already when one of your riders met us and escorted us the rest of the way."
"I assume then, that you have already heard the news."
"I have."
"The Azgeda seat on the Council falls to you as does the leadership of your Clan. I hope that today begins a new era of cooperation between our peoples. Your mother inspired nothing but treachery, may you instead inspire peace."
"My mother was a fool. I trust she and her little pet have been dealt with?"
Heda merely nodded, unable to keep her gaze from wandering to the still squirming Skaikru leader. Roan, noticing the shift in attention, shoved his captive forward.
"A gift for a gift, Commander." He bowed deeply. "You have given me my freedom, and in return I have brought you that which your own trackers were unable to find."
"You have my thanks, King of Azgeda, for bringing her safely to me. Now please leave us, I'm sure there is much you would like to attend to."
"Of course Heda."
"Everyone…out."
There was something in her tone of voice that made even Titus obey unquestioningly. Lexa looked at the floor in front of her as the door to the room clicked shut. "Kla…"
"Don't."
The Commander met Clark's look hesitantly, surprised by the depth of withering fury those normally sympathetic blue eyes could hold. She felt her toes curling in her boots, fighting to retain some sense of dignity and not just throw herself upon the mercy of the girl before her. From what she could see, mercy was not likely to be forthcoming.
"Klark, I hope in your time away you've had a moment to reflect on what happened at the Mountain and understa-.."
"Understand how you left us there to die?" Clark interrupted her again, contempt dripping from every word. "How after everything we'd planned and everything we'd been through you sold us like cattle?"
"Understand how I had a duty to my people, and made a choice I was honored bound to make; sworn well before your people arrived."
"I am so sick of you using duty and honor as an excuse for every behaviour. What about your word, about peace, about us, Lexa? You have no honour," with that, Clark crossed the small distance separating them and spar forcefully into The Commander's face. "You disgust me."
Lexa stood, stunned, while the spittle rolled down her cheek and onto the front of her armour. The woman in front of her was a stranger, so cloaked in her own outrage that Lexa could find very little of the giving, empathetic human being who had reminded her how to feel. They stood there a moment, eyes locked in a silent game of question and answer, before Heda averted her gaze to the doors.
"Guards!"
Three of her personal guard burst through the door immediately, weapons drawn as though expecting trouble. Lexa swallowed and fought to calm her voice to something approaching normal. Thrusting her chin towards Clark, she gave her orders.
"Comfortable chambers, full guard. She is not to see anyone or go anywhere without my express permission."
The last thing Lexa heard as she turned her back and made for the large balcony were a chorus of 'sha Heda!' and a string of epitaphs from Clark's lips that would have made the roughest of her soldiers blush. The large wooden doors slammed shut just as she reached the railing, her fingers wrapping a out the cold iron and gripping it as though it were a lifeline. Tears pooled, dangerously close to falling and yet she refused to let them, blinking them back with ferocious concentration.
Seeing Clark like that had been heartbreaking for a number of reasons. She had always hoped that when the time came for them to meet again that it would be with a cautious sort of joy. All she had found had been loathing.
Where could they go from here?