Polis, two days later:

Clarke sips at the cup in her hand as she stares over the city from the nightgrove. Dawn is a short ways off and the tea she's keeping hot by heating the cup with her hand is doing little to soothe her nerves. They've been shot for days. She feels fried, strung out. Super emotional and like she's barely holding it together.

Truthfully, she is barely hanging on.

Professionally, she's got that shit on lock down. That stuff is easy. Something she never thought she would be able to say. The only difficulty right now is with the Ontari, Azgeda situation – which she hasn't really figured out yet. She hopes that by the time she radios the woman she has a plan. She can't wait too long, she promised communication at the very least and Ontari's threat of invading Arkadia is burning in the back of her mind; she knows she'll follow through on it.

And Clarke also knows the blame will fall with her if she does.

Relationship wise, on a personal front, she couldn't fucking tell you where they all lie exactly. They're all a little strained right now; everyone is emotionally spent and hurting.

Two days ago, the night Clarke returned with Kai and Lexa stormed out of the room she didn't chase her. Maybe she should have, but instead, she stayed with Kai, changing and washing them both before tucking the girl into her side when she got into bed. Selfishly, Clarke needed the comfort of the child, the soft breaths and beating heart, reassuring her she made at least one correct choice that night.

Clarke did not sleep; no, she could not sleep. She remained there, brushing her fingers through Kai's damp, clean hair and tried valiantly to stay out of her own head. She thought about Claire's brief message; she considered trying to reach out to Elyza, but she didn't know exactly how to do so and knew for sure it wouldn't be the best time. If Claire approached Elyza the way Clarke inadvertently did, she knew there would be little hope to reach her sensible side right now.

So she sat there, back to the headboard, silently avoiding her own dark thoughts by forcing herself into thinking of literally anything else than what they're all experiencing. She tried to think of her father, of his warmth and comfort. She imagined his strong arms around her, keeping her safe from a nightmare she can't seem to wake up from. She thought of her wife, wished she had the strength to go after her, to bring her to bed with them. To hold her close and promise never to let her go, to use each other as the life preserver they know each other to be whenever the stormy seas get so high.

The Queen and Lionheart.

It was over an hour later when Lexa finally returned to their room. Neither leader says anything. Lexa bathes, changes and Clarke simply lifts back the furs and opens her arms so Lexa can join her and Kai in bed. Lexa lays into Clarke's other side, her arm wrapping across Clarke's stomach and over Kai protectively.

They share a collective breath soaking in the quiet comfort and shared sorrow.

Nothing was fixed. Nothing was better.

Nevertheless, nothing about the way they love each other had changed. They held each other right through what little sleep finally came to them.

The next morning, Kai finally woke, fresh eyed and before her mothers. She's given a brief moment of contentedness before the night's events came flooding back to her upon seeing the look of anguish soaked into their sleeping faces. Worst of all to Kai, Lexa's orb of protective light, dim around the three of them, unlike how Kai has ever seen it. Her.

When they finally wake, Lexa found Kai has snuggled in between the two of them, awake and watching over them protectively, concern etched on her face. Little was said that morning; Lexa shed no tears, though the other two in the room knew they were there behind the walls.

When Lexa left the room to attend to duty, Clarke and Kai shed the tears Lexa would not allow to herself. They cried for her, for themselves, for the fallen. Then, they dried their tears, dressed for the day and left the room hand in hand.

Wanheda and her Smolheda.

So here she is, sipping tea, two days later thinking back and finding things have not changed much.

The dead have yet to be burned, the constant barrage of storms with rain falling too intensely for the fires to burn even with Clarke's help. The winds and rain clearly echoing the emotions of the city in an ominous way; chilling and unnerving to even the strongest of person. She can see the pyres ready, both inside and outside of the city, now dry and waiting to carry the souls lying upon them on.

Titus was attended to; his wounds treated just enough to ensure the ability to prolong his suffering on the blood tree. He dies as a Natrona today, the way he goes in complete control of Lexa; it was her wish to wait out the rains. It was her wish to make sure he was healed enough that he did not die too quickly. Clarke doesn't blame her, she agreed with her decision a hundred percent, as did everyone else. Not that Lexa cared. She didn't even spare Mira, the other Natrona, and the door opener for Azgeda, the radio stealer and the spy. She'll have her own tree, her own pain to echo the city and people she betrayed.

Lexa and Clarke are still walking on eggshells around each other during the daytime and huddled close in silence at night. Words have never been needed between the two of them, but Clarke finds she wishes for them desperately now. She needs them, needs to know what's really happening inside her head, but doesn't know how to broach Lexa's walls any longer. Maybe she's just telling herself that. Maybe she just doesn't want to be turned away, to be turned down, to be held at arms length once more. She knows she can't handle that pain, but honestly, Wanheda is losing patience and fiddling with the sledgehammer once again.

Clarke has lowered her walls, she's allowed Lexa in, only to find that Lexa had returned the favour and blocked her out. Built her walls higher than before, curled inside herself behind them, keeping Lexa safe, while Heda rules in a stoic fury.

Clarke finds that she doesn't blame her for that either.

She deserves it. If she could trust the Wanheda side of herself not to go too far she would do the same. It's safer that way, but that's never been Clarke's strong suit; hiding away from her feelings, running away from her pain, it never works. She learned that the hard way, not so very long ago in reality, but in what feels like a lifetime.

Clarke has spent the last two days periodically visiting the grove like this, despite the rains, going over all the things happening around her. Thinking of how to fix everything. Thinking on the things she could have handled better. Maybe even a few things she wished she had have done differently. Like approaching the Azgeda Truce subject at a later time, she had two days. She could have put it off one night; she could have waited. She should have waited.

Or how blocking Lexa out when she knows the whole purpose of their ability to feel each other like that is so they make use of it. Lexa has every right to be upset over that, to block Clarke out now. Clarke broke a promise, a vow, and did so consciously. She chose to walk this path just like all the others. She thought it would be easier that night to do it that way. She was wrong.

She's not sure how to make it right. She needs Lexa to help heal her heart. She can't do that alone; they can light a million pyres, send on millions of souls to make amends for their mistakes, but without Lexa, it matters none.

Not to mention, she also needs Lexa's help with Ontari; needs her wisdom, her strength. Clarke's about to tread dangerous waters, alone, if she can't reach her wife's logical side today. She's flip flopped over the right time to try again today; can't decide if it would be better to do so before or after the pyre and blood trees. She thinks it may be better to wait until after for Lexa to be in a better frame of mind but her fear of Ontari's impatience and threat on Arkadia forces her to think the opposite would be true for their people…

She doesn't know what to do so she tries the only thing she can, she silently tries to reach out to Lexa. To feel her, to let her feel, to let her know she's not alone, to let her know she needs her. She hopes, as she stares out over the city, that today's proceedings help put them all on the path to heal. They've waited long enough.

And if today solves nothing, she'll bring out the sledgehammer again, she'll pull as many 'Clarke's' as she needs to…

Lexa stares out over the tower's edge as the sun just peeks out beyond the horizon. She goes few places in Polis to feel peace when she gets overwhelmed, here and the nightgrove. She'd be lying if she said she hasn't been avoiding the grove, she totally has been, Ryder has kept her informed of Clarke's movements. She tasked him on watching her back again, keeping her safe and under Lexa's protection when she cannot do it herself.

She's been avoiding Clarke as best she can, finding ways to keep herself busy until late at night when she can fall silently into her arms and off to sleep. Her endeavor has not gone unnoticed, her wife clearly seeing what Lexa is doing. Sensing her walls are up, and of course, knowing why, this morning, Clarke was gone before she woke an hour ago. Lexa can't help it, the fear to break down and never be able to build herself back up again causing her to act. She fears opening her mouth and her broken sobs never ending. She worries her frustration and pain will come out a misguided anger.

She can't trust herself right now, can't trust her reactions, but she can trust Heda. She trusted her when Costia was taken and she trusts her now when Lexa is at her weakest once more. She ignores that Heda seems to ache for Clarke and Wanheda's help as much as her.

Lexa has been so very angry. She's mad about Ontari's offer. Mad about Clarke going to the meeting without her, without even telling her. Angry that Ontari went so far as to use Kai as bait. Angry, perhaps childishly so, that Clarke agrees with Ontari. That they shared some vision Lexa knows she hasn't heard the whole truth about. She's angry that she can't find herself strong (or perhaps stupid) enough to trust Azgeda again; she almost lost Clarke to Nia during a truce and look what happened. She's angry that Clarke's right about it all and she is too stubborn to give in because of her fears. She's angry that she can't listen to her own advice, that fear plays a big role in the hearts of men.

For once, Lexa isn't sure she's making the right decisions. And she feels horrible, inadequate even, that Clarke stepped up while she fell to her knees.

Lexa clenches her fists at her side and narrows her eyes as her anger swells within her. She thinks more on Ontari, envisions a thousand scenarios in which she could cause her pain in turn for the pain she inflicted on them. Instead of considering the outcomes if she were to let Ontari into the coalition, Lexa thinks of all the things that tell her she shouldn't even entertain the notion.

"We can't trust her," she murmurs to herself as her mind's eye flickers to the ghosts of the children following her around. A gust of wind whips at her coat, kicking up the sash on her shoulder and Lexa breathes in deep with it.

And then, she vows for Ontari to die; the ghosts of the nightbloods standing beside her reminding her of her blistering pain and causing her thoughts to run wild.

She finds she meant what she said to Clarke, they mave have their truce, but it begins with Ontari's death. Once she falls, then Lexa will force Azgeda to kneel or they will die with their Queen. She does not believe she needs them to save the world, she tells herself. She can end their threat now, a retreat is weakness to Azgedakru; it would have caused doubt, she thinks, it could be done my way.

"Ontari must fall," she seethes; anger, easier to access, so close to the surface now, easier to display without seeming weak. She's fairly certain she skipped right over the denial and bargaining stages of grief and dove headfirst into rage, depression and a begrudging acceptance.

Though death is not new to Lexa, she grieves as though it is; for these deaths, were never supposed to come while she still breathes.

And those are the many reasons why Lexa and Heda have put on the mask and kept it on. Why she has pulled up her walls and crawled deep inside herself while she lets the only emotion she trusts right now, her anger, run her.

Taking another deep breath that doesn't quite satisfy, Lexa dips her head and shuts her eyes in attempts to calm herself. She feels a sudden onslaught of emotions being pressed like rolling waves against her walls, she can feel Clarke pushing to her, reaching out like so many times before in the last two days. But Lexa makes sure her walls stay intact, she doesn't let her in though she wants to desperately.

"Lexa," Clarke breathes slowly approaching behind her.

"Hello Clarke."

The greeting is not as cold as it has been, at least she actually spoke this time. It's not exactly as pleasant as it always was before when Lexa would say her name, the pain and anger she's trying to hide, evident as Lexa hesitates to turn to meet her gaze.

"It's almost time," Clarke says lightly.

"I am aware."

"Right. Right, yeah…" Clarke trails off watching her carefully. She sighs and runs a hand through her hair instead of reaching out like she wants to. "Um, you're sure you want to do the trees on the balcony?"

"Yes. The tower was their home, kept them safe through many years. They die as traitors to it, it will be good for the people to witness," Clarke hears the silent 'for me to witness'.

The blonde nods, "okay. Then it's all set up as you requested. They await your command, Heda." The title comes out on instinct, a way for her to approve of the decision without having to say it out loud. It's not the only reason she has come to Lexa now, not why she interrupted her moment of solitude but now that she's here she finds her nerve waning.

She clears her throat awkwardly as Lexa meets her gaze. She sees the murky greens of her eyes staring back at her, clouded with unspent anger and frustration.

"What is it?" Lexa asks.

Clarke purses her lips, "Have you thought anymore on-"

"Yes. I have not changed my mind, Ontari must die and then Azgeda will choose their path."

"Lexa, we can do this without bloodshed! The option is there to do this now and save our people later! Please, see beyond your anger, I know you can!"

"No. She dies, Clarke." Lexa spits out. She takes a couple hurried steps closer, her eyes flashing in pain, "Don't you see what she's doing? She's trying to weave her way in, get under the radar once more, save her ass and then destroy us from within. Do you not understand why I cannot allow that? Nia almost took you from me under the guise of peace! Ontari has had you within deaths reach more than once now, I am trying to protect you!"

"Lexa! Our people-"

"Our people need you, Clarke." I need you. "They need the Commander of Death against the undead not a false Queen and her army! You're too trusting, it will get you killed." Lexa says raising her chin in defiance, "Ontari must die. Ontari will die."

Clarke shakes her head sadly, realizing that she will not win this argument; she knows what she must do now.

"Fine," she says as softly as she can. "Ontari must die."

Lexa nods in a slight frown. Clarke blinks as Lexa leans in and kisses her forehead before leaving with her light, the only action telling Clarke for certain that her Lexa is still in this shell of her wife.

Before Clarke leaves the tower's roof, she looks to the sky and breathes in deep. She gathers her strength before she flames down to Raven's shop.

"So we're really doing this?" Raven and Octavia question.

Clarke rounds on them, meeting their gaze, "I have no choice."

"You do."

"She's right, you don't have to do it this way Clarke," Raven says. "You can contact her and try to buy some more time. She must understand."

"She won't."

"Clarke?"

"She won't!" Clarke shouts, "I've been over it time and time again with you Raven. Even you worked out the math on our probability of not needing Azgeda. Lexa is blind to anything but her anger and resentment of her grief. She hasn't even tried to heal yet, she won't back down anytime soon and I don't exactly have the time to wait!"

Octavia purses her lips, "I don't like this."

"Yeah? Well, I didn't ask you," Clarke spits before she can stop herself. She sighs, "Sorry."

"Don't be. I get it. This is a choice only you can make, you know we'll back you no matter what we feel about it."

Clarke looks down at the radio and hesitates, she doesn't voice the thought that says that maybe they shouldn't. Regardless, the next second she is hitting the button to switch channels. She looks at Raven, who nods in a serious way, she can tell she feels as helpless as Clarke does.

"Just... be careful."

Clarke nods and clicks the button to call the Queen of Azgeda. No one in the room hears her silent prayers to the spirits to let her be right about this.

No one hears the silent apology to Lexa but Clarke.

The blood trees have been set on the broken balcony of the fourth floor. It is high enough for the people to witness clearly without distancing them from it because these ceremonies, like the pyres, are for everyone.

This ceremony is where some justice is found. Not all of it, but some. Lexa is disappointed that she did not get to bleed Ambrose, but she has the route to justice for BlueCliff in the back of her mind already set, she just needs to follow that path. Much like the path she must follow for Ontari, when she does, justice will truly be done.

For now, they will find justice in the deaths of Mira and Titus.

She stands in the hall waiting as Titus and Mira are dragged through the streets from the dungeon and into the tower. She palms the handle of her sword at her hip, fingertips tapping impatiently. She wears full commander garb, her ceremonial armour in place, complete with flowing sash. Her headpiece is shiny and in place, giving her strength, reminding her of her duty. Today, she feels her trinket of purpose, more than ever before.

Clarke arrives minutes later along with Raven and Octavia at her flanks. Clarke wears her own headpiece, her black sash entwined with the piece of Lexa's own, flaring behind her as she approaches. Her hair is pulled back, various braids plaited within loose strands.

Lexa nods to them, seeing the obvious worry in Octavia's eyes and Raven's troubles on her face. Lexa understands, Raven must face her friend, someone she trusted and let in only to be burned and betrayed; she'll have to lay cuts to Mira. Catching her eyes Raven nods back as if to say, 'I got this', like Lexa had any doubt.

Lexa feels Clarke's tentative hand travel along her free arm, winding through her elbow and laying flat on top of her hand. The touch is tingling, even through the clothes she wears, Clarke's walls obviously not in place, her eyes, deep blue and understanding. Watching with care. Lexa releases her other hand from her sword and lightly places it atop Clarke's and her own, brushing her thumb on the back of her hand before bringing it to her lips. Clarke does the same before kissing Lexa's cheek and resting their foreheads together.

They take a moment gathering strength for the blood they are about to spill, the healing they hope to spark, and the pyres yet to come.

At the sound of the approaching footsteps Clarke draws back but leaves her hand on Lexa's, which Lexa is grateful for. They eye the twins with a slight nod as they pass in front of Titus and Mira, who follow behind them, with Ryder trailing in back. The traitors are taken into the room where Luna, Shaw, and Ziva wait with the remaining natblida. Raven and Octavia follow suit and take their places, Octavia stands with Luna and Raven moves to the balcony as Fleimkeppa.

Lexa and Clarke wait outside as the final preparations are made. The guilty are strapped to their trees and Raven speaks to the crowd, hushing them and requesting them to not throw the produce they wielded during the prisoner's march. She puts on a brave face as she introduces the Heda's to roars and whistles proving their love and faith in them as they come into view.

Lexa raises her free hand as she feels Clarke's grip tighten on the back of her other. The crowd falls silent immediately before she opens her mouth.

She's sure when her voice comes out it will be weak and broken, but it comes out strong and true. She credits Clarke's unwavering strength at her side. Though she doesn't let her in, she keeps her walls up; she can still sense the constant wave rolling off of her anyways, can feel her Clarke standing tall beside her and proving her own undying love and faith.

"Kru kom Polis, Kru kom kongeda-au," People of Polis, people of the coalition, she says in trig. "Today, we gather to see justice done!" The crowd cheers as she growls it out. "We stand tall, united in the face of those who move against us! Here we stand, bent but not broken, stronger than ever before and for the natrona's to witness Polis' rise from the ashes!"

Clarke squeezes her hand again and Lexa glances at her briefly before looking back to the crowd. "Titus, bearer of no titles, no power and no position and Mira, daughter of Azgeda, you are proven guilty of treason! You die by the means of any who wish to take from you!"

There are gasps ringing out from the room, the blood trees and the people in the crowd. Clarke hides her confusion well behind a passive mask as Lexa ignores the confusion. She thought long and hard about this, spent hours tirelessly considering her options and found this was the most satisfying. She has chosen to allow any who wish to make their marks, to inflict their own pain on the two to do so, however they choose to.

They will all have a chance.

Lexa pulls Clarke to the side after glaring at Titus through tight jaws, "Let them show you how deep this pain goes and how strong love can make them. Love is not weakness, love brought us here, love saved Polis." When her words cause Titus to waiver, to appear shaken and weak before her she then nods to Raven to proceed with the ceremony.

Raven takes a quick breath before she places her own mask on and calls forth the first to make their mark.

It's Aden, looking both angry and sad as he approaches. The hatred in his eyes evident as he swings a fist and breaks Titus's nose, causing the blood to flow on the first hit. He chooses to use no weapons, he swings violently, time and time again before he's breathing hard and his knuckles are bloody an torn. He chooses to cut Mira, slicing her cheek right through Azgeda scars that don't exist there.

The next to approach is Situ, she grits her teeth nodding to Lexa and Clarke before grinning at she slices Mira's thigh, above the knee and deep enough to make her howl, the finishes the cut with a twist to her blade inflicting as much damage and pain as she can. Then she moves to Titus, her tiny body moving forward at a violent pace. Her anger coming out as her tiny blade is driven into the palm that's tied to the post, "that is for striking Kai," she whispers in his ear. She then proceeds to break his four fingers and finally his thumb, "That is for the other's that you failed."

Zora goes next, her eyes furious and full of loathing. She barely looks at Mira as she cuts her scalp with the deadly glare like her sisters plastered on her face. She has seen many battlefields, more than her fellow natblida, and still she has not seen enough blood yet. Her need for Titus' is clear to all in the room, she works on Mira quickly before moving on. Her sister stands proudly behind her as the younger girl moves to her prey. She pulls out a curved blade, given to her after her first kill from her sister; her strike is powerful and precise. She filets the skin from his hip to his knee, as if skinning a fish, and she throws the piece at his feet as he whimpers. She takes the sharp edge and then presses it in to the gaping wound, slowly, ensuring he feels every second of her touch.

As he waivers consciousness from the pain, Kai approaches after a pat on the shoulder from Luna. Kai walks briskly forward, straight for Mira and rounds to face her. "You," she sneers, "We trusted you. Raven trusted you." She launches a quick punch, followed by another. Mira spits out blood from a cut lip and blinks beneath a bruise forming on her eye. She steps closer to whisper in her ear, "A friend, we called you, all you have proven is that you were not worthy of such a place. I am not sad to see you go." Kai's knife slips from out of her coat and lands deep in the side of Mira before she brings it to the left, slicing her belly to a satisfying scream. She grins darkly before glancing at Raven who's watching with fierce pride and a little sadness. She doesn't falter, she turns her attention on to Titus.

She see's that he is weaving in and out of consciousness, she growls as she moves and she slaps him to wake him up, "You can rest when you're dead!" She shouts at him like he yelled at them so many time before. She smirks when he looks at her, wild eyed and fearful when he sees the darkness in the child before him. He begins to tremble when he sees her power, her strength, driven by a ferocious love he didn't understand but is beginning to.

Kai reaches into her pockets, pulling out sleeves of torn parchment, each one once pinned to his hood unbeknownst to him. The remnants of their game held at his expense, the remnants of her brothers and sisters' smiles and joyous times they had together, she kept them all. His eyes widen when he sees them, she shuffles through them before him like a deck of cards. She puts Peyton's last one, the one Kai took the blame for, the one she was whipped for, on top of the pile before pulling her small dagger back out and using it to pin them right to his shoulder. As the blade sinks in, he howls as she grins darkly, her very own monster, her smolheda, coming through in spades.

Kai leaves him like that before moving to stand beside Clarke, who places her hand on her shoulder and draws her in a little closer. Lexa glances at her and gives her a brief nod and small smile. She's proud of her, of all of them.

And the adults all move to take their turns.

Raven cuts Mira's palms, finding herself unable to handle doing much else to someone she once saw as a friend but making sure the thief and traitor feels her anger. Even in betrayal, she can't find the sense in inflicting much pain on her, she doesn't think it will help; at least it won't help her. Octavia does not follow that sense of thought. Octavia snaps both of her elbows. The rest in the room take their own cuts one by one after her.

Titus is served a much crueler fate. The pain inflicted on him is both necessary feeling and quite revealing to his true character. No one takes it lightly on him. Octavia snaps his knee before pulling a knife and removing the kneecap from its home. Raven fucking whipped out a handgun and shot him in the gut, ensuring his suffering will be even worse. Making sure Skaikru makes its mark and pressing into the wound with her hand with a dark smile before slapping the bloody palm across his face.

When it is Clarke and Lexa's turn they move together as a unit. They request the prisoners to be taken down from their posts as they approach. Working as a silent team, Clarke burns white-hot flames on Mira's thief hands while Lexa removes her traitorous tongue, making sure to keep her alive a little longer. They move to Titus, Clarke striking first, a flaming palm reaching up and gripping his throat, burning the flesh beneath her fingers. She holds him there, his back to the people of Polis, as Lexa moves to stand before him. She speaks, leaning in so that only Clarke and Titus can hear her, "You once warned me of Wanheda's power, of what Clarke's presence would do to me. You were blind then" she pops her knife into his eye socket, removing each one swiftly, "and you are blind now."

She throws the now useless organs into the city before glancing at Clarke, still holding Titus, and nodding at Ryder who holds Mira. "Let the people of Polis have the rest," she turns as Clarke flings Titus backwards off the balcony and Ryder kicks Mira off unceremoniously.

As if it were as easy as brushing off her hands, Lexa just walks out of the room and she doesn't look back. She's not done yet, but she's on her way. Clarke and the Natblida follow her silently as they progress through the tower to relocate at the pyres.

The bodies of Titus and Mira are dragged out to the enemies pyre outside the city walls hurriedly before the burnings take place. Today, murder and murdered will not be burned together. The enemy does not deserve to burn within the city they tried to destroy. Let them find new life on their own. No one gathers there, just Lexa and Clarke. There are no words spoken to send them off, just 'yu gonplei ste odon' from each of them before they take Clarke's flames back into the city.

Inside the city walls, the crowd does not take long to gather. The warriors and protectors of the city will burn first, in larger pyres while the natblida all have their own pyre to themselves, as fitting for their station, for their missed futures as leaders. As is their birthright and bloodright demands.

Silence hangs around the gathered as they prepare to say their final goodbyes. The air is heavy with loss and visible on all present. Lexa steps up with Clarke onto the raised platform, a traditional torch held high in each of their right hands.

They thank the fallen out loud; thank them for their sacrifice and strength in the face of evil. They wish them luck on their journeys and slowly lean in to light each fire.

As the fires begin to rise into the morning sunlight, the smoke billowing high as if carrying their spirits with it the crowd watches silently as Lexa speaks again, "Hofli yu na hon bida chilnes op ona yu brana sonraun." May you find peace in your new life.

"Hofli yu na hon bida chilnes op ona yu brana sonraun," Clarke repeats. "Yu na ge mema we." You will be missed, she promises.

Clarke and Lexa remain at the pyres long after the crowd disperses. They are watched keenly by their loved ones, who remain in the distance or periodically coming back to check on them between their duties. They stand hand in hand until evening begins to fall and Lexa finally speaks.

"Thank you, Clarke."

Clarke turns her head to look at her, confused.

"This could not have been easy for you, standing by my side even though we don't agree on our path from here," Lexa continues.

Clarke shakes her head slightly, "Lexa our path leads forward, together. It always has."

Lexa sighs and looks at her now, "I will never condone what you are proposing. We will never agree on Ontari and Azgeda unless you come to my side of that argument. She has to die, Clarke. I will not rest until she does so. I can't risk it." I can't risk you, Clarke hears between her words.

Clarke reaches out and strokes her cheek softly, "We'll figure something out." She hides the fact that she's already walking both paths tumultuously; she hides her guilt. "Let's just worry about healing for now. We can worry about her later. Tonight, let's just be." Clarke pulls Lexa in close and holds her tight as Lexa's arms weave around her back.

She strokes her hand on the back of her head softly murmuring her love in her wife's ear before swallowing and pulling back to look at her. "Lexa, please. Let me in?"

She wants to take it back as soon as she says it. Lexa immediately bites her lip before setting her jaw. Clarke backpedals, "Forget I said that. I get it; you don't have to, just know I'm here okay. Whenever you're ready." She swallows reaching up to brush Lexa's cheek with her thumb tenderly, "And I'm sorry. I wish I could go back and handle it differently, I'm not even going to try and defend my actions… I'm just, so sorry, I never meant to hurt you like this. To add to any of this…to make everything harder…" she trails off wincing at how utterly pathetic that sounded.

Lexa sighs; running her hands along Clarke's arms soothingly, "shhh, niron. I understand. I just… I need time."

Clarke nods, watching her closely. She decides to lower the sledgehammer and trust Lexa's words. She decides to give her time. She's not sure how much time they have to spare, but she pledges as fiercely as Lexa has vowed to kill Ontari, that she will give her as much as she can.

Again, nothing is really fixed, nothing feels completely better, but that night, when they crawl into bed together they sleep a little more soundly. With entwined limbs and matching rhythms of their hearts, foreheads pressed together and Lexa's light, a little brighter around them, the candles flames a little higher than normal.

Things aren't perfect, but they're better.