Chapter Title: like a cry at the final breath that is drawn
Pairing: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Chapter Summary: The people who are found in the mountain mist are honest, in their own way - and they keep their word.
Written for the 3 sentence ficathon prompt any, any, fine print. Fey au, because contracts and wordplay are very much associated.
The people that the tribes call Skaikru are honest, in their own ways, though their tongues twist the words in their mouths and others ears to suite their own ends (always, it is to their ends; if there is a trick to the making of such bargains it is knowing what those ends are, before a deal is struck), but it is known that to be honest is not the same as being forthright, or unguarded – many the gona who had though he had caught himself a bounty in a web without threat of escape or misfortune, and many the fool who had regretted it, some even living to do so over years, so that others like them might know.
Most who are thought to have made contact with those from the sky and clouds, who venture or are chased up into misty trails of the mountains that they claim as their own, disappear without further trace, their trails ending in a open field, or near sheer cliffs or in hollows where horses will not tread – but not Heda's fos, or the one with hair of sunlight who follows after her as she walks into TonDC - that is not the villages name, merely what it is called, for names are powerful things, once known, too powerful to let spread outside of those who it is home - and the preparations for her wake.
An alliance, was what they agreed, and an alliance had and finished once circumstances changed enough to warrant reevaluation – but an alliance was what had been chosen, and an alliance the Skaiprisa would have; and so it was that the Coalition's enemies fell, and with them Heda's hand and sword were claimed by the woman – queen of death, whose hair was starlight and eyes ice, where before they were summer sun and the seaside pooling among shallow stone - which she owed.