Lexa stumbled to one knee, clutching the side of her rib, teeth grit and eyes shut tight. She felt the pain, the sting of the blade piercing her skin, yet when she drew back her fingers they were untarnished. She wasn't bleeding, not in the Sanctuary at least. Regardless, she was weaker now that her physical body was injured. When she opened her eyes and lifted her gaze across the mossy forest floor, she watched Tiberius rise to his feet with a wide grin stretching across his face. The storm continued to churn and spit lightning above them, a roll of thunder ripped through the air.
"Tsk tsk, Heda! Marvelous performance!" he laughed and took a step towards her, clapping his thick hands together in a slow applause. "I've never known you to be so clumsy with a blade! Pathetic, just like your woman."
It hadn't mattered what happened to her body, not since she first emerged from the regeneration pod. She would gladly sacrifice her body, and already had done so against Tiberius' army in Arkadia, if it meant achieving victory. It was one of the earliest lessons she learned as the commander: victory stands on the back of sacrifice. Her bodily safety meant nothing, not as long as it meant she could buy some time. Just enough time to finish it... her thoughts turned to Clarke back in the server room.
Lexa's lip curled into a snarl. "I'm going to enjoy killing you."
"Not as much as I'm going to enjoy killing your Wanheda," Tiberius sneered and turned his gaze upward. His body soon began to fade, to grow transparent against the line of trees behind him as he slipped further from the Sanctuary towards the server room.
"Lexa, no!" Clarke scrambled to Lexa's side, her blood ran cold in her veins, her heart drummed loud in her ears. Her finger trembled as they reached to take hold of the knife's hilt, now slick with warm, black blood. With a single breath, Clarke yanked the knife from Lexa's side and pressed her palm against the open, seeping wound.
When her eyes caught sight of Tiberius lying conscious and limp at Lexa's side, Clarke's chest swelled with a hot, furious rage. She envisioned all those she'd lost from the medical convoy ambush, of their own ambush when trying to flee from Arkadia, of Raven falling…
Her heart ached, but not from loss or sorrow, but of hatred; of unbridled wrath that consumed her. She didn't care if many of her loved ones were waiting for her in the Sanctuary, she didn't care that their suffering, at least for now, had ceased as long as the servers remained safe. What propelled Clarke forward now, the knife clutched tight in one hand towards Tiberius' body, was the thought that so many had suffered at his hand, had harmed those she loved the most.
Tiberius shifted beneath her and opened his eyes.
Clarke shouted and felt the burning ire in her chest boil over as she plunged the knife's edge deep into his neck. She jerked the knife's hilt and sliced up his throat, rupturing his jugular in one quick motion. "Go float yourself, you bastard!"
Tiberius collapsed onto the soft moss at his feet, screaming and clasping a hand desperately over his throat. On hands and knees, he rocked back and forth, his eyes shut tight against the searing pain splintering from his neck. When he opened his eyes and turned his gaze to her, Lexa distinctly saw fear begin to grip him.
Lexa grinned. "What's wrong? Back so soon?"
"It doesn't matter." Tiberius spat and rose to his feet again. He peered at his palm as if expecting to see it drenched in black blood. His hands held a slight tremor. "I am still in the Sanctuary, and you're injured, weak."
Lexa stood tall and narrowed her gaze on him. When she snapped her fingers, thick roots emerged from the moss like shooting spears, curling around his ankles, legs, and hips to hold him in place. Nearby tree branches jutted out to capture him by the wrists, twisting lengths of ivy up his elbow to the shoulder to pull his arms out to the side, immobilizing him entirely. She took slow, steady steps towards him.
"You underestimate me, Tiberius. It's a shame, you would've benefited from the education your fellow natblidas received. If you had, you would've learned that the first lesson every Heda must learn is to never underestimate their enemy," Lexa approached him as he writhed against his constraints. Her voice grew steady and louder against the gusting wind. Lightning tore through the sky above them. "Perhaps you would've been in my conclave; I could've killed you sooner and saved us this trouble."
Tiberius twisted against the vines cutting deep into his skin, shouting with every jerk and motion. "Fight me like a warrior, you coward!"
Lexa grabbed Tiberius by the neck, her fingertips pressed hard against his flesh. Her rage-filled eyes locked with his, her lips curled into a snarl. "You remember, don't you? When I told you this would end with my hands around your throat, watching the life leave your eyes?"
Tiberius' eyes widened, he choked. "Wait! S-Stop-!"
A bolt of lightning leapt from the churning clouds above, careening down above them. The streak of lightning struck his scalp, a spark of light exploded, and in the cover of blinding white light, Tiberius' terrified screams faded to nothing.
It had only been a matter of seconds after slashing Tiberius' throat that Clarke still stared at him. His empty eyes remained open, staring up towards the ceiling. His torn throat was slick with his black blood, which now pooled beneath his scalp on the tile floor. She felt her pulse beat thick in her veins, and when her gaze lingered on his severed jugular, she places her bloodied fingertips onto her own neck to feel the rhythmic drumming. The action seemed to ground her, to remind her that she was still breathing, still alive.
She had just closed her eyes and taken a deep breath when she heard Lexa shift behind her. Clarke spun back and watched Lexa sit up from the tile and offer a weak, tired smile.
"Are you alright, Clarke?"
"Am I alright?" Clarke moved away from Tiberius' body and knelt beside Lexa. "I'm so sorry, I should've…" she pressed her palm against Lexa's wound again to hold back the slowing bleeding, felt her wince at her touch. "… I should've been faster. I could've stopped… this."
Clarke was babbling now, apologizing and distraught, shredding a section of her shirt off with trembling fingers to bandage the wound. But Lexa merely watched her with a softening, calm gaze and growing smile.
"Clarke, I'm alright," Lexa whispered, reaching out to cradle her face against the palm of her hand. "Look at me."
When Clarke met Lexa's gaze, her eyes were brimming with tears. Everything within the past few days seemed to flood her mind with images of suffering, pain, and death. Killing Tiberius had helped assuage her anger, but it hadn't lifted the weight of it all from her heart that now felt as though it were about to burst. Tiberius was dead and they had won; the servers, and all of their lost loved ones were finally safe. But Clarke was not alright, not after all that she'd seen and lost.
Lexa caressed Clarke's cheek and leaned forward to press a tender kiss above her eyebrow, then against her lips. When they parted and rested their foreheads together, Lexa could taste Clarke's tears against her own.
"My wound is not fatal," Lexa reassured her, sliding her fingers through Clarke's hair. "You must breathe, calm yourself."
Clarke could only manage two unsteady, haggard breaths before continuing. "We have to return to Polis to administer the chips. By the look of Tiberius' soldiers and how ragged they looked, I'd say the radiation has already arrived." Clarke pulled away from Lexa and met her gaze again. "Are you well enough to join me?"
Lexa let out a light chuckle, winced against a throb of pain in her side, and made to stand on her feet. "Remind me once we're finished with our mission to regale you with tales of war where I've had to tolerate much more gruesome undertakings."
The first thing that struck Clarke when they emerged from the mansion was the heavy silence. The fighting had ceased, and bodies now laid strewn across the lush green grass, staining the earth red. Clarke turned her gaze away when her eyes caught the sight of Raven's body, still laying across the way surrounded by fallen grounder warriors.
"They aren't here…" Lexa reminded her when she saw the look in Clarke's eyes. "They're waiting for us in the Sanctuary. We'll be with them again soon."
The two made their way down towards the dock, nearer to where the small boat floated, tied to the narrow wooden dock. Clarke thought of the horse she'd left on the other shore and desperately hoped it hadn't wandered off or been taken. Otherwise, their journey to Polis on foot would not only be too arduous, but their slow pace would doom all who were already suffering from radiation poisoning within its walls.
The closer they reached the dock, the more bodies of grounder warriors lay at their feet, riddled with bullets. The moment Clarke stepped foot on the rocky beach, she heard a muted voice in the distance near a cluster of thick brush. Clarke hesitated and felt her heart sink before turning to run towards the sound, fearing for those she hadn't seen since the night before when they stood guard together: Octavia and Bellamy.
She found Octavia propped against a large boulder flanked on either side by fallen logs. She'd tied a strip of cloth across her face, soaked through with crimson where she'd been wounded, from what looked to have been a blade cutting a deep gash across her cheek. One arrow pierced her chest, another had caught her in the gut. With one hand she gripped her sword, and with the other she placed upon Bellamy's head that lay in her lap. He lay on the ground beside her, his skin was pale from blood loss: an arrow had met with his thigh, hitting his femoral artery; he was gone.
Clarke fell to her knees at Octavia's feet and clasped her hands over her lips. Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Oh god, Octavia…"
Octavia's movements were slow, each motion drew a wince or sharp breath through her teeth. "What, does it look bad?" She coughed and blood stained her bottom lip. "Took you guys long enough…"
Lexa emerged from behind Clarke and knelt beside Octavia. Her stern eyes trailed along her wounds, then down to Bellamy. "Your fight was a hard one."
"And worth it," Octavia motioned with her head towards a massive pile of stacked branches and leaves beside her. When Clarke approached and brushed the foliage aside, she discovered the duffle bags of Sanctuary chips hidden beneath. "Bell got injured early on, couldn't move worth a damn. Raven took it upon herself to draw their warriors away, hoping we'd stay hidden enough until it was over. It worked, sorta…"
Lexa smiled, proud. "Indra chose well when she made you her second."
Octavia strained to smile and turned her head away to brush away a tear. "Is it done, then?"
"Yes, Tiberius is dead, the servers are safe," Clarke said. "Now we just need to take these to Polis and finish the job."
"Well, better get to it, then," Octavia's voice was growing tired, tense against her dry throat.
Clarke's gaze lingered on Bellamy, his body limp against the cold rocky ground. She then turned her attention to Octavia. "Will you stay here?"
Octavia's smile wavered, her gaze dropped to Bellamy's head resting on her lap. He looked almost as though he here asleep. "I'd only slow you two down… not even sure if I'd make it." She lifted her gaze to meet Lexa's. "Besides, a warrior doesn't leave her guard over a few cuts and bruises. What would Indra say if she knew I'd left my post?"
Clarke bent down to rest her hand over Octavia's, offered her a reassuring squeeze, and turned to retrieve the duffle bags from beneath the thick brush.
"Thank you," Lexa said. "Polis would've been lost if you hadn't protected these."
"Just get it done, both of you. Get your asses to Polis and finish this already."
Clarke hoisted the bags onto her shoulders and turned back one last time. "I owe you a stiff drink on the other side."
Octavia closed her eyes and leaned her head back to rest against the boulder. "You sure as hell do. Now get the hell out of here."
The two left Octavia in silence. Making their way towards the boat, Clarke felt the sting of more tears in her eyes; she knew Octavia wouldn't make it to nightfall, not with those wounds. But she wiped the tears from her eyes and remembered what Lexa had told her after they'd left the mansion: They're waiting for us in the Sanctuary. We'll be with them again soon.
