Her vision narrowed until all she could see was the smirking face in front of her. Numerous feet separated them, but she could clearly see her sparking eyes, the curl of her lips, the way she held her head. It was all too familiar, and she felt her heart slam against her ribs, and the once-tempered rage begin to build. She should have known. She should have seen this betrayal coming. She had seen the signs, heard the murmurings, but she had ignored them all in favor of losing herself in a warm, willing body. But how wrong she had been.
She vaguely heard shouting, dozens of angry and worried voices rising harshly in the morning air. Her ears twitched at the sound of stamping of feet in cadence and hard leather shields being thumped against armored chests. She could hear the scrape of steel, and she was sure she heard arrows being notched.
She turned her head minutely, the wretched screams finally reaching her ears, and she saw Fen Dal on the ground being held down by Mordecai. Her screams were incomprehensible, and she furrowed her brow, wondering what she was saying, not that it even mattered anymore. This was how it was going to end, and she should have known better than to believe that life could be about more than just surviving.
But her eyes met angry violet, and she marveled at how red Fen Dal's face was, the rage clearly simmering just under the surface of her skin. She imagined that at any moment, Fen Dal's face would begin to crack and her rage would finally seep out like black puss. She wanted to laugh at the irony, except it wasn't so much irony, as tragedy.
And it only took a few seconds, for Fen Dal to prove why she had been her greatest warrior, as she threw off Mordecai and scrambled to her knees. Lexa expected her to rise, to throw herself into the fray, to undo all that she had bled for over the years, but instead she lifted her shaking fists in supplication to Lexa, the angry tears streaking through the dirt on her face, her muscles rippling under her skin.
And Lexa could feel the boiling rage, a living beast that was prowling waiting for the word from its master. She started curiously at this…this thing…that begged and pleaded, pounding stoned fists into the dirt. She saw the madness swirling in her dark eyes, and she wondered what the point was of holding her back anymore. This tragedy of flesh and bone on her knees was no longer her greatest general, her most trusted friend, her family. She had been reduced to this sniveling mess of burning flesh.
And she lifted her hand to give her that final permission, to release her from her pain, but she stayed her hand at the last moment…
"No."
It wasn't particularly loud, but it was clear and resolute, and Lexa hesitated, her eyes widening a fraction when she realized just who had dared to defy her. Was there no more loyalty? Were they all turning against her? Perhaps this was what she deserved.
"No, Heda. Beja. Give her to me," and perhaps she shouldn't have been so damn surprised by the tall warrior who had managed to scramble to her feet and stood directly behind Fen Dal gripping her by her neck. And despite everything, she couldn't help the twinge of amusement, that out of everyone she could have had; quiet, unassuming, loyal Mordecai had chosen the warrior touched by madness. So instead she nodded.
Mordecai grabbed Fen Dal more securely by the back of the neck, knowing that the other woman didn't even feel her hands upon her, couldn't comprehend what was about to happen. Her intense relief at Heda's nod was replaced with the sad resignation that she didn't know if she could save Fen Dal. Perhaps it would be better to just let her go, to end her fight for her.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, and she felt the muscles underneath her hand stiffen briefly and then sag as the wild ramblings stopped. But Mordecai drew her hand back and slammed the butt of her dagger into the side of her head, but she caught her and in her arms and held her for just a brief moment before laying her gently in the dust. And then she straightened, knowing the worst was yet to come, and she stood ready, with a heavy heart.
It had been so brief, happening in moments, and Lexa tore her gaze from Fen Dal to stare again into the face she had seen so many times in her dreams. And her fingers tightened on the arms of her throne when she heard the all too familiar, warm voice.
"Really, Lexa? Did you really expect anything different? Did you think I would just let it go?" The voice was so soft, so earnest, and Lexa's lips twisted into a harsh smile at the way her blue eyes gleamed.
She felt the bitter bile rise and coat her tongue, and she barely managed to hold it back. She couldn't be weak, she couldn't afford to show just how wrecked she truly was. "No, but I didn't think you would be such a branwada as to risk your people, to risk everything on this foolish need for retribution."
She briefly glanced around, noting the warriors all on edge, their weapons in their hands ready to pounce, to spill each other's blood. The Skaikru looked angry and worried, and she wondered if they had known or ever suspected that this could happen. Her closest allies stood at the ready, but it didn't warm her heart. Instead she felt the burden of their lives resting upon her shoulders. She was going to burn them all.
The warriors of Ice and Blood smirked, and the Wolves prowled restlessly behind them, ready to do their masters bidding. And she knew with just one word, they would all annihilate each other. And maybe it was time to allow it, to concede that her coalition had fractured beyond repair. That this bloodshed would be her legacy, and maybe from the ashes a new world would be born.
She glanced towards Indra. She wasn't her greatest warrior, but she was her most loyal soldier, her most trusted general. Indra who never questioned, but followed and fought and bled. She was ready to do her bidding. Her eyes flitted to the young eagle who stood behind Indra. Peregrine's face was white, and she clutched her hands to her chest, but her eyes…her eyes no longer saw this world, and Lexa wondered what visions she was seeing. War? Death? Betrayal? Fire?
"Indra."
And it was all that was necessary and Indra stepped forward and drew her sword. She imagined that she could hear the slide of each nick of metal against her worn scabbard. It was the longest draw of her life, and she knew what was coming next. She had heard the breaking in her Heda's voice, had heard the demons roar. She looked at the Elder Maestra, who was simply too calm, too composed, and her chest burned with hate. Because this was how Heda's rule would end, and she couldn't help but believe that this meddling Elder Maestra had always known.
She pointed her sword at the Elder and hissed, "You! You knew. You saw this and said nothing!" The tip of her sword wavered as she stepped in front of Heda, her dark eyes searing into the Elder Maestra's, who barely managed to not tremble under the scouring of her gaze.
"I see all possibilities, Indra. This was only one. There is more to come."
"Lies! You speak with a forked tongue, in riddles and games!" She stalked closer, step by step, the crunch of dust breaking underneath her feet. "No, more!" But she hesitated when she saw the sadness flicker in the Elder Maestra's eyes.
"It is time to choose, Indra." And Indra felt her heart drop, and a gaping hollow open inside her chest. All it would take was one word, one move, and the ground would run red with blood. One whisper, and this inevitable war would begin. But it would be the last war, because they would destroy each other right here, in this clearing. No one would be spared.
She closed her eyes in resignation and remembered all those years ago when her love had held her in the dark of winter. He had whispered in her ear telling her that the day would come when she would have to defy Heda, would have to choose differently. She remembered his words so clearly.
"Someday, you will have to choose, Indy, between Heda and what is best for your people. When the time comes, just make sure that it is a choice worth dying for, worth sacrificing everything for. Because the cost will be far greater than you can imagine that you could ever pay. Make sure it is worth dying for, Indy.
She waited for the command she knew was coming. The command that would damn them all, that would lead to all-out war. And she alone heard it in the wreckage and devastation of her Heda.
"Frag em op."
She turned to fully face the woman with the cold blue eyes. She cursed the day she had ever laid eyes upon her. Her hand tightened around the handle of her sword, and her war cry burst from her lips and she pivoted sharply. She was turning…turning….and her sword was outstretched and arced with deadly precision. She felt the moment the tip cut into the flesh, and it reverberated up her arm. And she saw the thin streams of blood rip through the delicate skin in a wide, splashing arc. She felt the hot blood hit her face and sear her down to the bone.
And the look of surprise on Lexa's face was forever seared in her memory, when the head toppled from the shoulders and felt to the dirt with a wet thump.
Author's Note: So who hates me now? Just remember what I promised you from day 1. ;)