Alexandria sat in a chair as she took in the woman who sat in front of her. She looked enough like Clarke that she wouldn't have needed to be told she was her mother, but there were differences, too, ones that made her wonder what Clarke's father must have looked like. It gave her pause to realise she was thinking of those things, that she was wondering about Clarke's personal life with more familiarity than would be expected of someone who was merely an acquaintance or even friend.
And, just as intently as Alexandria studied Abby, she knew the other woman studied her. She wasn't a fool, she knew how strange it must have been for her, she could tell and guess and infer from every little thing she saw that she had known the woman in some way. It made sense. Especially considering what she knew of how close her and Clarke had once been.
"You look younger," Abby's voice said eventually, and that surprised Alexandria, made her eyebrows lift a fraction.
Abby must have sensed her surprise at her words for she waved her hand across her own face as if to indicate something intangible.
"You don't hold yourself like you did before," Abby said, and perhaps it surprised Alexandria that Abby seemed so at ease talking to her so bluntly.
"And how do I hold myself now?" Alexandria asked, perhaps a little guarded in tone, maybe a slight hint of curiosity in her voice.
"You held up the weight of the world on your shoulders," Abby answered. "And now that weight is gone."
Alexandria found herself wondering how close she had been to the woman in front of her, she wondered if she had known about her in any kind of personal familiarity or if it had simply been through duty and service to their people.
If Abby were to assume she could be so blunt, so straightforward, Alexandria thought it only fair that she be afforded that same brevity. And so, "how well did we know each other?" She asked.
"Not that well at all," Abby answered with a quiet sigh. "Not personally, at least."
"You seem to be taking my existence in stride," Alexandria pushed, her eyes hardening just a fraction as if she dared the other woman to blink first, to break whatever tenuous connection was between both women, something she couldn't quite place.
Abby's mouth opened for a moment before it closed and she seemed to think of just how to say the words she wanted. Alexandria watched as she quietly laughed at a thought that must have crossed her mind before she discarded it.
"I used to think I knew everything," Abby said eventually. "When my people first came to the ground," she gestured around them as if to indicate the world, the lands and the air. "I was partly responsible for sending the first of our people to the ground," she said. "I thought I knew best, but I was really sending kids down to die," she shrugged. "Clarke was part of them. It's not a very motherly thing to do, is it?"
Alexandria had never actually heard the intricacies of how Clarke had come down to the ground, it intrigued her, gave her pause and made her want to ask more than she should.
"No it was not," she said, and she didn't mean for it to sound so chiding, but from the way Abby's lips twitched at the corners she knew the other woman had come to terms with her decisions years ago.
"Do you want to know the worse thing I did, though?" Abby asked, and though it was a question Alexandria knew she didn't need an answer. "We sent kids down on their own, forced them to grow up in hours and then when we came down, when we decided it was safefor us, for the ones who weren't replaceable?" she laughed a quietly bitter laugh. "We treated them like the children they had been when we sent them down, and not like the ones who we had forced to grow up without any guidance, without any kind of help."
And though Abby didn't mention anyone by name Alexandria could tell she spoke of Clarke in some way.
"After everything that has happened in my life," Abby said and she sighed and looked outwards, perhaps focusing on one of the weapons that hung from the wall, perhaps looking out of an open window and into the distance. "Things don't really surprise me anymore. Not like they used to."
Alexandria didn't know if that sounded sad, or if it sounded nice not having to worry about surprises, about what could happen, of simply living life and letting it take you where it wanted without worry for the things that could come to pass.
"It has its benefits," Abby said eventually.
Alexandria nodded her head as Abby's gaze returned to her.
"Just as it has its challenges," Alexandria answered, her voice quiet.
"Yeah."
They fell silent for a moment then, and Alexandria found herself trying not to think about whatever was being discussed between Clarke and Athena, and not because she worried it was about her. She didn't know when she had started to realise it herself, but she had slowly begun to realise she worried for Clarke in some measure. Perhaps she always had, and at first it was because she worried that Wanheda had struggled with the things she had done in her life, but then that worry had morphed into something a little more familiar, something a little more personal. And that, she thought, was an intriguing development, something she would need to ponder for some time yet.
"How is Agamemnon?" she asked in an attempt to distract herself from her wondering thoughts.
But from the way Abby's gaze turned more serious she thought her worries not disappearing, merely shifting from one person to another.
"I don't know yet," Abby said. "I'll need some time to make a more educated decision," she paused and Alexandria watched her chew her lip briefly. "There's equipment back at Arkadia and the Mountain that would make it much easier," she said eventually, and with those words Alexandria found herself understanding the predicament a little more clearly.
"I see," Alexandria said.
There were things she would need to think over, decisions out of her control that would need to be made. And yet, for some reason, she thought there a reason Athena had brought Abby here, and she thought it not a mistake that Abby would require more than she could take with her to even begin to help Agamemnon in any kind of way.
"Have you ever wondered about visiting the clans?" Abby asked eventually.
Alexandria let the silence sit for a moment or two as she considered the question. She didn't think Abby asked it in an attempt to probe for something she shouldn't, and yet she didn't entirely think it as innocent as it could have been. But despite that she thought that simple question harmless. Or maybe it was now not as forbidden a question as it had once been years ago, simply because of Abby's appearance, of the things Athena had clearly begun to put into motion.
"At times," Alexandria said and she shrugged her shoulder, her voice guarded enough that she knew Abby would recognise the danger in what she said should Athena have a change of heart. "But it is complicated," it was a safe answer, one Alexandria was comfortable with given her uncertainty of the woman who sat in front of her.
"Hey, Alexandria."
She looked up to find Clarke standing at the entrance to the hallway, her eyes careful, perhaps a slight touch timid.
"Clarke," Alexandria answered though her voice was a little more calculated if only because she was sure she sensed something in Clarke's tone that wasn't entirely calm and in control.
She watched for a second as Clarke and her mother acknowledged an unspoken look, something she was sure had been shared between mother and daughter countless times. And then Clarke beckoned her forward.
"If you've got a minute?" she asked.
Alexandria nodded, in part to herself, in part to Abby and in part to whatever deity of uncertain times had taken residence within the homestead.
She fell into step behind Clarke as the woman turned and began walking down the hallway and to the room she assumed Athena still remained within. It took them only a moment longer before they came to a stop outside a closed door, and as Clarke turned to face her she saw a slight hint of uncertainty painting Clarke's gaze.
"I—" Clarke paused, swallowed and Alexandria could tell she was trying to find the words to say whatever she needed to. "I spoke with the flame," she said eventually. "Just now," she looked away and Alexandria didn't know what she wanted to say, or if she was even supposed to know what to say in the moment. "It helped," and Clarke shrugged. "In some way, it helped me to understand things a bit better," Clarke swallowed again and this time Alexandria saw calm and certainty in her gaze. "Athena is willing to let you speak with the flame if you want to."
Alexandria didn't know how to react in that very moment.
Perhaps she was surprised, perhaps shocked, maybe she should have felt offended in some way that Clarke had just suggested something some would consider blasphemous.
And yet?
Alexandria felt none of that. Instead, she felt something close to hope, something close to want and desire. And she didn't expect it at all.
"I'll give you some time alone," Clarke said with a small smile before she nodded her head as if to reassure herself and then she turned.
And so Alexandria found herself alone, standing in front of a closed door, her heart beating more strongly than it had done in years. It was strange, she'd be lying if she denied ever wanting to talk to the flame, of ever wanting answers. But she had never strayed far from her place in the world lest she disrupt the order of things. And she had never complained, never questioned, never dared ask.
But she had never been given the opportunity she had been given in that moment. And she didn't know why, nor did she think she deserved it.
Alexandria turned to look at the closed door and she struggled for longer than she cared to admit, she struggled for minutes more than she should as she argued with herself.
But eventually she watched as her hand reached out and slowly closed around the door knob before she pushed.
The door swung open to reveal a room just like every other room in the homestead. Athena sat in a chair, her hands resting atop her knees as she looked out an open window. It was such an unassuming scene that Alexandria almost thought she had been dreaming the entire thing. But that wasn't so.
"Heda," Alexandria said, her voice unexpectedly dry as she stepped inside.
Athena's head turned to face her, eyes careful, expression something a little less familiar than she had seen in all the years she had known her.
Alexandria didn't know what or how to say anything to broach the topic and decision that had been thrust upon her.
"Please, sit, Alexandria," Athena said quietly as she gestured towards the chair in front of her.
Alexandria slowly came to sit, her heart screamed in her chest and she tried not to let her emotions take hold of whatever it was that seemed to be happening in that moment.
"I did not know if you would take up the offer," Athena said eventually, and again there was something odd in the way Athena looked at her.
Alexandria took a moment to centre herself. In that time she forced herself to meet the Commander's gaze, she forced herself not to turn away and she forced herself to see what wasn't said, what wasn't spoken.
Again, there was something in the Commander's gaze, in her expression that seemed different than it had been before. And then it clicked.
"Who are you?" Alexandria asked, her eyes narrowed, and her chin levelling.
There was a pause, enough that she knew the woman who sat in front of her considered her words carefully.
But then there was a smile, something small, something so very familiar. And Alexandria found herself knowing exactly who it was that sat in front of her.
