Whether it was unintentional circumstance, or whether it was a helpful underestimation, Anya found getting Kane in to see the trapped nightbloods far easier than she had anticipated. It had only taken her two days to feel confident enough before they had delved deep into Mount Weather's depths, into the horrors that were hidden away for all to see.

She had noticed there were less Mount Weather security detail patrolling its halls, she had noticed most had been sent outside, maybe to patrol the forests, to try to figure out what was happening outside.

Whatever was happening outside, she assumed Lexa to be part of it, to be giving them enough cover to do whatever it was they could to sure up support for a confrontation between Arkers and Mount Weather's people.

And yet Anya couldn't quite see how things were going to play out. She couldn't quite grasp what confronting the truth would mean, whether there would be denials, hurried explanations or self-righteous justifications for the horrors that she had seen. But she continued to push those thoughts aside, she would face them when she needed to.

And so Anya sighed as she continued to watch Kane slowly pace back and forth in front of her, his arms crossed, his mind clearly going over every single thing that had just been said.

"I don't know what to do," he said eventually.

Anya didn't envy him. She didn't even know what to do.

"Do we tell everyone?" she asked.

"And then what?" Kane's brown furrowed so completely that she thought his face permanently scarred with worry, "we try to take control of Mount Weather? We leave? Live with trikru?" his pronunciation seemed forced, the word unfamiliar on his tongue. But Anya at least respected the fact that Kane tried his best in some way. "Mount Weather won't just leave the Trikru alone, it's clear what they're doing to them."

"If it makes it any easier," Anya said. "I don't think Clarke, and the other grounders are going to just not attack, whenever that is," and she shrugged a single shoulder. "What happens is already out of our control. We can just decide whose side we're going to be on."

But Kane shook his head, maybe in refusal to accept her words, maybe to refute whatever futures he already knew set in stone.

"There has to be a way to find peace, to find a way forward for our people without bloodshed."

"What if we tell people here in Mount Weather?" as soon as the words left her mouth Anya already found herself thinking it a foolish suggestion. She didn't think there'd be mass revolt, the truth too barbaric for those to accept. And if change were to be had from revealing to everyone just how barbaric Mount Weather was, she thought it would come to violence, conflict just as devastating as siding with the grounders and helping them end what was happening on their terms.

"What if we stay out of it?" Kane asked, his voice tired, eyes downcast as if he already knew the answer.

"You and I both know our people are too involved to avoid this," Anya shook her head and frowned.

"Yeah," he said with a sad smile. "I thought you were going to say that," he turned and took a seat in a chair by the door, his hands steepled in his lap as he stared at the floor, mind ever trying to find a solution. "It's hard to believe," he said quietly. "It's hard to imagine anyone able to do what I saw," his voice was a little more hoarse, as if the memories of the stricken nightblood strapped to the chair had made him feel a fraction of what that person must have been feeling.

"So, what now?" Anya asked.

"We need to keep this secret in case it leaks," and Kane looked away for a moment in thought. "Bellamy will help. Are there others?"

"Octavia," Anya said with a nod. "She'll do whatever we need her to do. Raven, Monty. Lexa says some of the others might be trustworthy."

Kane nodded his head, the motion half pleased, half weighed down by expectation.

"When the time comes we will need to turn off the cameras inside Mount Weather," he said. "We'll need to hide the fact that we'll be helping the grounders until the last moment. Opening doors, showing them where to go, who to capture."

"If we can get control of the command centre we might not even need to turn off the cameras," Anya suggested. "That way we'll still have the advantage, and Mount Weather won't know we're helping until it's too late."

Kane nodded his approval.

"You'll need to get access," Kane said. "I know," and he held up a hand, "easier said than done, but with you in control of the command centre you can be our eyes and ears and control communications."

Anya couldn't help but to see the irony in that.

And so she grit her teeth, her lips pulling into something between smile and grimace. She didn't know what exactly was going to happen next, but she knew it too late to back out, too late for doubts and second thoughts.

Clarke stood alone at the mount of a tunnel, her gaze steady as she peered down its depths. To her back was a cavernous opening, a hub of sorts that contained entrances to many other tunnels, each one just as dark as the other. The quiet whistling of wind could be heard as drips of water echoed out around her. All those sounds were familiar to her, were known to her. And yet they still made her shiver just a little.

The hand she had wrapped around the handle of her knife was cold, her fingers barely restless as she let herself analyse the thoughts flowing through her mind. Chess pieces moved in every direction, action and reaction, risk and calculated dangers were all assessed.

She didn't think there was another way, not one that could give her the Mountain with as little bloodshed.

And yet it was a risk. One greater than the plan in which she had entered this campaign with. Lexa and her people were a distraction, something to use inside the Mountain, to give her enemy pause, to make them stumble for only a moment. It would give her warriors a fighting chance, it would give her a chance to end this all with one fell swoop.

And she relished it, relished the coming violence, the coming vengeance she and all her people had dreamt about for generations.

"Heda?" Ontari's voice was quiet from behind her.

Clarke inclined her head slightly, the motion signal enough for Ontari to come to stand by her side as they both peered into the shadows before them.

"This is the direction of the attack?" Ontari asked eventually.

Clarke took a moment to take in what Ontari asked, and she heard curiosity in her voice, perhaps a little excitement, perhaps a little apprehension at the coming battles. But she didn't think she heard fear, sadness or anything other than a steady and defiant confidence that was honed from years of battle, of understanding that each moment may be the last.

"Yes," Clarke said. "It will be bloody."

"I would expect nothing less," Ontari answered, her tone perhaps a little more thoughtful than usual. "We are watching the dam," Ontari continued. "Maya continues to provide truthful information. Even at her own people's expense."

"She is ashamed at what her people have become," Clarke said quietly. "There is no shame in trying to make amends."

Ontari didn't say anything in response, but Clarke could imagine the sneer upon the other woman's lips. She smiled at the image in her mind. It was a funny image, one she had seen many times over the years Ontari had served by her side.

"Ontari," she said quietly.

"Yes Heda?"

"You have been a good companion to me over the years," she didn't entirely know why she felt the need say the words she said. And yet in that moment she thought it prudent in some way. "The war will start in a few days, perhaps a week," she turned to face the other woman.

Ontari's gaze seemed more understanding than it often did, perhaps the sombre nature of the conversation having tempered her mind for just a moment.

"We will be victorious, no matter the cost."

"Yes," Clarke said with a smile. "I believe we will. Now come, I wish to see the volunteers."

It didn't take Clarke long to walk the tunnels and to arrive at one of the many chambers tucked away underground. She passed warriors, too. Each one nodding their head in greeting as she passed by. She was never sure why and how the atmosphere always seemed to change as conflict grew near. But her warriors sensed it just as much as she did.

Clarke stood in front of the closed chamber for a moment as she let her thoughts settle onto the present, away from the future and the past. And then she entered.

The room was large, no different to any other sleeping quarters that housed all her warriors beneath the surface. Beds lined one wall, a large table the other. Armour and weapons lay in neat order, some on the beds, some on the table, others propped up against the wall. She could smell incense, something light, earthy, enough to remind her of the forests.

Warriors all looked up at her entrance, they stood quickly and remained quiet as they seemed to sense she was to do or say something in the moments to come. She eyed each one, some she recognised from the last time she had needed volunteers, some different, better suited to the new task at hand.

She didn't enjoy asking them to sacrifice themselves, she didn't enjoy asking to be die for her.

And yet she found it a familiar thing she now did, one she had grown accustomed to.

Her lips parted as she made to say something, but for some reason she paused, let her mouth close as she considered exactly what it was she wanted to say to those who stood before her.

She didn't realise she had come to stand in front of a woman, the same red-haired woman who had volunteered to aid in Lexa and Bellamy's plan.

"I am proud of you all," Clarke said eventually, and perhaps she expected to see surprise, shock, something on their faces. But no. it didn't surprise her to find their expressions blank, sure, confident in whatever it was they would be asked to do.

"This is a suicide mission," Clarke began as she stopped pacing and turned to face her warriors, hands behind her back and her gaze keen and steady. "I do not expect many of you to survive. If you do not wish to be part of it I will not think less of you, nor will any of those amongst you think less of you," part of her hoped every single one of her warriors would turn from her, would walk away from their fates. But none did. "There is an intersection in the tunnels," Clarke began. "One of many," she continued as she began to walk back and forth slowly, her steps measured and sure. "It is the closest to the Mountain's underground entrance."

There was a slight murmuring then, in part because they must have understood some part of what she was going to ask of them, or because it gave them all an idea of just how close the battle was.

"We have been watching the dam for many months," Clarke said. "That is what powers the Mountain's tech and it is our first target in a great many. Its destruction will allow us to kill the Mountain for good. My goal is to send so many of our warriors to the dam that it overwhelms their defences before they even know what is happening."

Clarke paused as she considered just how much to reveal of her plan. But consider for only a moment she did for she was loathe to keep secret the reason for her warrior's sacrifice.

"I wish to explain to you my decisions," she said. "If we guard the junction with enough warriors to stop them reinforcing the dam they will realise that we have more warriors in the tunnels than ever before," she said. "They will realise something is afoot and guard themselves more cautiously."

She took in a steadying breath as she juggled once more with how much to say.

"But if only a handful are present then the Mountain will believe they can land a crippling blow to our army. The Mountain will believe we do not have enough warriors to guard our most vulnerable flank so they will overcommit and leave themselves weak."

Clarke had thought over so many different ways of ridding the inside of the Mountain of as many of its warriors as possible. And she thought this way the quickest, the easiest, the only way to do so without drawing too much suspicion.

"They will think we have sent our entire army to destroy their source of power. But it will not be. More of our warriors will be hidden in other parts of the tunnels and they will attack through the same exit that the Mountain has used to reinforce the dam. With Maya's help, with that of the Skaikru inside the Mountain who know of its horrors, we will be victorious. "

Clarke paused most more to make sure her plan was understood, that each of her warriors knew exactly what it was that she asked them to do.

"You will be our lightly guarded flank. You will be attacked by the full might of the Mountain and you will delay them for as long as possible so that they are forced to commit overwhelming forces to push through your defences and reinforce the dam."

She let her words linger once more as she stared at each and every one of her warriors before her.

"I do not ask this of you lightly," there was a sadness in her tone then, something she had felt more times than she cared to admit. "Again, you may all refuse this task, I would not hold it against you," she peered from face to face for long enough that she met their gaze, looked them in the eyes and read their thoughts.

Again, none of her warriors stepped aside, none of them even let their gazes waver from hers and for the briefest of moments Clarke felt her heart ache, her eyes water and her lip tremble. But she steeled her mind as quickly as those feelings had come.

"Your families will be taken care of for as long as the coalition exists, no matter whether you live or die," she said it calmly, as if she could merely will her command into existence.

And she could for Clarke was the Commander.

Lexa lay on a small bed and she was bored, her mind happy to wander back and forth listlessly as she looked up at the ceiling. She hadn't realised how bored she'd become being the only one from the Ark now that Bellamy had been 'rescued'. At least she had shared a quick conversation over the radio with Anya and Bellamy earlier that morning. That had in part helped relieve some of the uncertainties she had been feeling over the past few days. Even knowing Kane had seen the nightbloods and had in some way seen reason was enough to relieve some of her fears.

And now she found herself waiting, wondering what exactly it was that was building below ground, what Clarke had been planning, what her role in the entire thing would be.

Part of her felt like things were out of her control now that she had done her part. And yet she felt like she needed to do more, or wanted to do more.

And so Lexa's mind turned to the fact that she had by all accounts died, or come to close to it that it would have been indistinguishable from death. She didn't know how to reconcile what had happened to her. Not the burning she had felt through her entire body, not the weird sense of energy she had felt flowing through her veins and not the very simple fact that Clarke's blood had the ability to do things that shouldn't be possible.

Lexa held her hand up in front of her face and she eyed her fingers once more. She had noticed that vibrancy in her body had subsided, she had noticed it had seemed to lessen with each passing hour. But she thought she could still feel it lingering there, just under the surface. Perhaps she'd find an explanation to what exactly Clarke was deep in the depths of Mount Weather, maybe the fact that Mount Weather bled these nightbloods meant that they had some idea of what had happened to Clarke, to all those that bled black.

But Lexa didn't have the answers, and she didn't think she knew where to even begin in her search.

She sighed as she crossed her arms, the creak of the leather shirt she wore the only sound to exist in the small room she had grown so accustomed to. Even that thought was an uncertain one. She didn't entirely know what to make of her life now. In some way she thought herself stuck in limbo, one part captive to something other than human, one part cherished plaything and in some other small part perhaps a welcomed companion to Clarke in the woman's quiet moments.

She admired her, Lexa had long since realised. The woman was cunning, perceptive, sometimes fearsome, sometimes awe-inspiring in appearance and in status.

She didn't think what they shared was anything like a relationship, she didn't even think what Clarke and Ontari seemed to share was a relationship, either. Perhaps closeness, or whatever form it took for Clarke was what all of them now shared. Something for Clarke to take her mind off things for a moment or two between those decisions of life and death.

And yet Lexa found herself wanting to know more, to be more. For why, she couldn't quite tell.

Lexa rose from where she lay on the bed and stretched. She didn't entirely know what time it was but the sun had already begun to set judging by the dimmed light she could see through her shuttered window. She needed to walk, to clear her mind, to get some fresh air and to give herself something to do.

She paused for only a moment longer, her hand half reaching for the doorknob, as she judged whether the sun had set enough for her to be allowed out. But she'd take the risk of being turned back as soon as the door opened. She had nothing better to do.

And so the door opened, her eyes barely needed to adjust to the late afternoon light and she eyed the man who stood guard outside, his eyes narrowing a fraction, a hand ever present atop the handle of a sword she knew him more than capable of wielding.

"I want to walk," Lexa said, her voice half question, half command.

She could see him eye the surroundings for a moment longer before he looked up at the sky.

"I'll stay in the shadows and out of sight if it will help," she added with a shrug. "I just need fresh air."

That seemed to alleviate any of his worries for he nodded once before stepping aside, his head tilted to the side as if to indicate she keep to the shadows of the buildings that lined the particular street of Ton DC she found herself.

Lexa walked for what seemed like hours though she knew it probably only long minutes. True to her word she kept to the shadows, to the edges of the streets where trees seemed to sprout up from the walls of Ton DC and cast great shadows from their canopies so high above.

It wasn't the first time she had wandered aimlessly through the small village, but perhaps it was the first time she had done so without much thought. Since coming to the ground she thought this the first time that things were a little quieter. Maybe it was a lull before an explosion of action would be needed. That scared her a little.

Lexa came to a stop underneath a particularly large tree, its bark weathered, the moss that covered it somehow growing in what seemed like controlled patterns that painted themselves into such beautiful shapes she didn't even know how to describe.

She looked up at the highest branches above her and she marvelled at the memories of Trikru warriors jumping from branch to branch and tree to tree that she had seen at times. It was a sad realisation that she thought everyone she had interacted with had in some way been connected to war, to suffering, to the need for survival. But she supposed that was life on the ground now.

"Have you lived in Ton DC all your life?" Lexa asked to her ever present guard, the man quiet as he had followed her where she went.

"Yes," he said,

"Been to any other places?" Lexa didn't entirely expect an answer, but she was curious. Curious about other clans, curious about other cities, the capital she had heard about and even the great frozen plains of Azgeda.

"I have travelled to Broadleaf and Blue Cliff clans before," he answered.

It was a simple answer, something that didn't give away too much. And yet it made Lexa curious, it made her want to know more.

"Maybe I'll get to see them one day," Lexa's mind already began to imagine what it must be like living in those clan's territories, she imagined plants with leaves so large, so vast that she could cocoon herself in them as if they were a blanket, she imagined cliffs whose rocks were blue, sapphire and so rich in colour that they glinted in the morning sun and she wondered what life would be like on the ground if Mount Weather didn't exist, if the fear it cast over the lands came to an end.

But she felt eyes on her in that moment, something piercing, something intense and she looked out to find a shadow staring at her, its presence in the shadow of an alleyway barely noticeable across the distance. And yet Lexa found herself knowing and recognising Clarke's form even though it was hidden by a cloak that fell to the ground.

Lexa would think about the fact she recognised Clarke by silhouette alone at a later date. In that moment all she did was raise her hand slightly in greeting, perhaps an offer for Clarke to approach if she so desired to share in her company, perhaps a simple way of saying hello, of telling her she was seen, acknowledged, understood to have want of fresh air, something less burdensome than whatever it was had kept her busy for the last few days.

Again she'd try to figure out why it made her lips twitch up at the corners at a later date as she watched Clarke look left then right before she quietly began to cross the distance between them.

For a moment Lexa couldn't help but to think the image of Clarke's approach something so very similar to that of an animal that bled from the shadows in search of something. Perhaps it was the fact that in those very shadows her flesh seemed to come alive with such pale grey intensity that it almost seemed to absorb light, cast it around herself and bend it to her will. And yet it didn't quite seem to do that at all. Not when it was hard to see her skin, not when she seemed loathe to expose herself to whoever from the Mountain might be near enough to realise her presence.

"I mi—" Lexa stopped herself from saying what she wanted to say. "You've been busy?" she asked quietly as Clarke came to stand close enough to her that she could see the black of her veins if she looked hard enough.

"Yes," Clarke said, her voice a quiet timbre in the space between them. "Thank you, Jal. You may leave," Clarke nodded her head to the warrior who had escorted Lexa.

Both women fell silent then, the company they shared not quite awkward, not quite uncomfortable in the quiet. And yet Lexa felt like she wanted to say something more than simple pleasantries, she felt like she needed to. Maybe to clear the air between them, maybe to relieve some of the pressure she had felt building within her since their first moment of intimacy to their most recent where Clarke had shared her blood with her, had done something that shouldn't even be possible.

"Things will begin to move more quickly now," Clarke's voice was quiet as if it was loathe to break the silence around them.

"They will?" maybe Lexa should have thought of something a little more thoughtful to say in response.

"My warriors are preparing for an attack that will cripple the Mountain and give us an opportunity unexpected," Clarke answered with a shrug. "I wish to speak with your people inside the Mountain when next you make contact," Clarke said it, her tone not quite an order, but firm enough that Lexa understood it as such.

Lexa didn't think she needed to say anything in answer. Perhaps that was another sign of many that told her she needed, or wanted, to clear the air between them.

"Hey," she bit her lip as she tried to put to words the things floating through her mind.

"Lexa," Clarke said in turn, her head tilting to the side ever so slightly.

Lexa found herself not really knowing what to say, not really having the words to form upon her tongue.

"You could have let me die," the statement surprised even herself, but Lexa embraced the words, the sentiment behind it and she met Clarke's gaze, she held it and tried not to let herself waver from whatever topic she dared broach.

Clarke didn't say anything for a long moment, and Lexa found herself taking in her pale gaze and the way she could trace a shadow or two that bled into the grey of her skin as it mottled and danced against her face.

"Did you wish for me to let you die?" Clarke challenged, her eyes holding curiosity within them.

"No," Lexa said and she shook her head before looking away and chewing her lip as she began to put order to the disorder. "It's just—" she looked back at Clarke only to find her eyeing her expectantly. "I don't—" she sighed, perhaps a little frustrated that her mind was unable to make sense of anything.

Clarke chuckled, the sound light, maybe a touch teasing and Lexa felt her own lips twitching up at the corners. She found she enjoyed the sound. Perhaps it was because it seemed to humanise Clarke, perhaps it chased away some of the mysticism that was the woman with black blood and grey flesh and immortality.

"What will you do after everything?" Lexa asked instead of whatever it was she had intended to say.

Clarke took the time to consider her question and Lexa watched her gaze settle somewhere behind her as if she searched for the answers in the forests, in the trees and the green and browns of the world around them.

"I do not know," Clarke said eventually, and it seemed a little more quiet, something lonesome, sad, full of an acceptance of something Lexa didn't quite know just yet.

Lexa could tell there was more within Clarke's mind, more within her thoughts but she could tell the woman not ready, or not willing to share just yet.

"I'd like to visit Polis," Lexa offered quietly, "the other clans. Maybe even see the ocean," she smiled something small as she saw Clarke's eyes lighten a fraction.

"I hope you will have the chance to see everything you wish to see once this war has ended, Lexa of the sky people."