It didn't take long for Clarke to find out about Lexa's experience behind the wheel of the rover. She hates that machine, she doesn't trust it, she doesn't know why exactly; perhaps, it reminds her of the metal tin confines of the ark, maybe it's the gigantic machine gun mounted on the hood, maybe it's the danger and speed the beast screams in appearance alone. Regardless, whenever she thinks of the four-wheeled monstrosity she has a foreboding feeling, a desire to keep Lexa away from it. Far away from it.
But it's impossible for Lexa or Raven to hide their adrenaline filled morning, or the doughnuts in the field, or the smile that's plastered to their faces as Clarke finds them at breakfast.
Their little secret lasted all of five minutes.
Lexa got plenty of stern looks but little could be said from Clarke when the experience had lightened her spirits so much. Raven took the brunt of it, because of course, it was her idea. She got an earful to say the least, but after a long… discussion (one sided) on keeping Lexa safe Clarke finished it with a kiss on her cheek, a tight hug that Raven will feel for the next hour, and a murmur of thanks for helping Lexa.
Breakfast was an okay affair after that. Everyone conveniently ignoring what was occurring today, trying to forget where some of them were headed, what some of them had to do. That is, until they were saying goodbye to their loved ones. They could not ignore what lay before them any longer, could not put it off, were forced to set off. It started with Kai, sitting on Lexa's lap and playing with her dagger, "Can't I come too?"
"No," just about every adult close to her responded together before Kai dropped the dagger slowly and raised her hands in surrender, "sheesh, I was just asking. I love tiny humans."
"You are a tiny human," Raven points out.
Kai gives her a challenging look, "Okay, humans that are tinier than me."
"Why not just say babies?" Octavia asks, though it comes out muffled, fighting it's way through a gigantic piece of bread Clarke's sure she hasn't chewed.
Raven tries to save them all the view by holding her hand in front of Octavia's mouth, while Luna answers, "because going to an enemy village and taking a tiny human sounds better than going into an enemy village and taking a baby."
A hunk of bread hits Luna in the forehead before the table turns to look at Lexa who threw it, "What?" Luna says glancing at Raven and back to Lexa, shrugging she says, "it's true." Raven nods as if to say, 'exactly'.
"I think the assault by bread means stop teaching Kai your terminology," Octavia says, chewing finally and displaying it all for them, Raven's hands no longer hiding it.
"I'd rather the assault of flying bread versus the view of you assaulting that piece in your mouth," Clarke groans, "Jesus O, the seven year old has better table manners than you!"
Octavia grins as she swallows a huge glass of water, "there's not exactly a table in the forest for the four-legged," she tries to defend.
"Well you've only got two at the moment so nice try," Lexa quips, a tight smile on her face.
"Sha, heda's," Octavia says dramatically to soft chuckles from the group.
It's short lived, but relished in, because, moments later, the original conversation comes back to their minds and the group falls quiet as they think about the baby tiny human they plan to take…
It doesn't matter what they call him, they all feel the weight of the truth.
Clarke's been on edge since before they left Polis, before they sat down for breakfast, ever since the moment Ontari not so subtly stated her knowledge of their travels today. She rides rigid in her saddle on top Daedalus, her usual joy and sense of freedom on top her strong steed lacking today.
Lexa rides beside her, straight backed and shoulders tight. Ryder flanks them with Beland while the two wolves run ahead as scouts. Raven stayed behind in the city with the Natblida, Luna, Ziva and Zora, who made the trip back to keep her company and help keep an eye on things while the leaders were absent.
They don't want to be caught off guard again.
The sun beats down overhead through clear blue skies, but the mood is anything but as bright and cheerful as the weather.
While Clarke is preoccupied with being concerned about Ontari knowing where they are heading, Lexa and the rest of the party are on edge for other reasons, though they happen to relate. They watch the route carefully, taking note of their surroundings and varying their speeds to prevent ambushes. The wolves smelling for threats ahead and doubling back to give the all clear to continue forward.
They all fear what could take place when they arrive in the village that houses the boy, the village where Ambrose was born, and the village Lexa knew well before she was called to lead.
Clarke knows Lexa hasn't been there in years. They've spoke about Ambrose a few times, she knows she knew him while she was younger, spent some of her adolescence with him, went to war with him, fought alongside him. She hasn't been back since she became Heda and Clarke knows she is concerned with appearing there now for a multitude of reasons; the most pressing, to remove a child from its home, something she had just worked tirelessly to prevent ever happening again. Clarke understands what she's feeling coming off of Lexa and she is very careful to acknowledge it without drawing attention.
To give Lexa the support she needs, even in silence.
They catch each other's glances occasionally, eyes full of understanding as much as troubles. They don't speak of what's to come, they've talked that subject to death already in Polis, all that is left to do now is follow through.
That is, until Octavia comes flying back to the group still in wolf form, panting and staring from Beland to the leaders and snapping her teeth. The party automatically halts its progress and closes ranks.
"What is it?" Clarke questions, staring from Octavia to Beland who is clearly the only bridge they have to really understand her in this form without Raven present.
Beland furrows his brow and glances at Lexa before answering, "Azgeda. They caught the scent, a small party, the trails maybe an hour old."
Clarke tenses, her fears coming to the forefront, a slight panic edging up her spine as she considers that Ontari has betrayed what little trust she and Clarke had built between each other, emphasis on the little. A part of her wonders if it's simply one of the search parties Ontari sent out in search of the undead or the vaults, but a larger part thinks she's rarely that lucky, thinks things never work out the way she means them too. (See a large majority of her life for proof.)
Clarke's hopeful, not stupid. She ignores the voice that questions if they aren't one and the same, and this time, the voice oddly reminds her of Elyza. She knows it's not actually Elyza, she believes she'd sense her presence like she can with Claire, she somehow just knows it's the connection she forced, the knot she made to tie their beings together.
Lexa, on the other hand, tenses for different reasons, for deadly reasons. Clarke can see it in her posture and definitely hear it in the slight growl that escapes her wife. She fears Lexa's blind hatred for Ontari, her vow to end her fight, when she sees it, she fears it will overcome her sense of self and duty and cause her to go running off after a possible lead. To be impulsive, something Lexa or Heda rarely is.
Clarke swallows and catches Ryder's glance, one that happens to look as concerned as she's sure she does. Daedalus stamps his feet restlessly, Octavia ruffles her fur impatiently, and Clarke absentmindedly pats the horse's neck to calm him while she desperately tries to think of how to defuse this situation.
"We should follow them," Lexa's stern voice breaks into the tension and everyone's shoulders slump slightly, which Lexa does not miss. Before she addresses it, or rather, the person she is most concerned with hearing their thoughts, she looks at Ryder and Beland, "secure the perimeter," she orders.
They nod to the command and head off to do as she said. Lexa turns her head to look at Clarke, "You disagree?" Her voice is both dangerous and accepting; she already knows the answer.
Clarke swallows hard, grimacing while she straightens her back and raising her chin to meet Lexa's eyes, "Sha. I think we should continue on our course."
"Ontari could be with them." Lexa eyes her carefully, while also trying to downplay her wishes to proceed this way. Clarke can tell she's trying to hold her rage back, her heart both wanting to pursue this lead and wanting to remain on the same sense of purpose as her wife.
It's a delicate situation; Clarke doesn't blame her for her desires. Fuck, every time she speaks with Ontari she struggles with the same desires, whether to join her wife in pursuit of the woman's blood they deserve, and the want to pursue this lead that could lead them all into peace down the road. She has that effect on people.
"I doubt she is with them or with a small party at all," Clarke says, she hopes, "she knows you've marked her for death by now, surely." She barely gets the sentence out, it's truth hidden between the lines, for she was the one who informed her of the impending death sentence. She swallows thickly, trying to hide how uncomfortable she is, she is careful to not let Lexa feel anything off her but love. She may or may not be pulling a Clarke (she is) as she figured she promised she wouldn't block Lexa out, she means to see that through, however, she never promised she'd let her feel everything all the time; plus, she figured, she knows Lexa has been doing the same in her own way, trying to keep her from sensing just how damaged she still is from everything.
"They are probably just scouts. If we follow them we risk the chance her knowing where we are, what we were planning to do today. Not to mention we've already come this far, Bluecliff scouts could have seen us by now and tipped off the village, if we delay longer we risk everything," Clarke continues.
Lexa adjusts her jaw, clearly mulling over Clarke's words, and trying to come back to see everything instead of just her desire for justice; for Ontari's blood. Clarke remains silent as she watches her consider it all; she has faith that Lexa will listen to reason, that she'll see their only path today should lead to Bluecliff, and then home.
Please, just let us get home, she thinks as her heart thumps in her chest to the tune of Lexa's name.
Instinct takes over, her body moving on its own accord as Clarke urges Daedalus to move forward so she can reach out and place her hand on top of her wife's. Lexa's gaze slowly falls from her wife's to their hands. It's a few seconds before Lexa adjusts her hand to properly hold Clarke's, their thumbs softly rubbing soothing circles on their wrists.
Now, Lexa looks up to the blue eyes she loves so much, the eyes that remind her of home, "You are right. We should continue on."
Clarke nods, though a look of concern unable to leave her face because she can see how difficult this decision was for Lexa, and that worries her. It shouldn't have been that hard of a choice, it is a clear indication that though Lexa is coming back to herself, she is still a little misguided, a little torn between her head and heart. Torn between the want to make Ontari pay for her crimes and the need to do what is right for their people, not unlike how Clarke is torn between doing right by Lexa and doing right by everyone.
Clearly able to see her concern, Lexa lifts their entwined hands to kiss the back of Clarke's before flipping it and kissing her palm with lips that linger.
Clarke gives her wife a small smile to match the one Lexa gives her before she nods and Lexa lets out a loud whistle calling their party back to them. A few moments longer and they are back in position awaiting their orders. Lexa nods at Clarke before kicking Icarus into motion again, Clarke mirroring her motions.
We can do this. As long as we are together, everything will be fine; she lets out a long tight breath in hopes to relax a little. She can't go in to Bluecliff all worked up, getting worked up means the Wanheda part of her will come out, she's not sure they want that; the baby making her believe this is a situation for Clarke.
"Kom Bluecliff," Lexa orders and they pick up their speed.
The party continued on through the morning at a quick pace, never stopping a second time until they reach the outskirts of the village. They gather, dismounting their steeds and the wolves sit close by, waiting for their orders.
They have not seen a soul. It has Wanheda and Heda coiling protectively, ready for anything.
"We should have seen someone by now," Clarke says as though it's a question.
Lexa nods, "sha, a scout at the very least." She looks at the wolves and then Beland, "They smell no one?"
Beland shakes his head, "no one…"
"How is that possible? They should expect something in response to the attack on Polis."
Lexa's brows knit together in thought, "there could be many reasons…" she pauses, "I can only assume they've have pulled all their forces back, consolidated to show their strength. They await us in the village." That's why Lexa brought so few with her, to show their strength. Lexa doesn't need an army.
She needs Clarke.
And she has her.
Clarke has a thought and looks to Beland, "Can you reach out, can you listen for the closest person? Find out if they're waiting for us?"
"I can try," he says and closes his eyes, the rest of the party looking around nervously. Clarke is holding her breath without realizing it. All she wants is for this to go smoothly. She doesn't want things to get out of hand; she doesn't want things to get any worse. She doesn't think they could handle that. Not right now.
Beland opens his eyes slowly and connects with Clarke, he shakes his head, "No one within range."
Clarke sighs heavily, nodding her thanks for his efforts and looking to Lexa, "What do you think?"
Lexa does something Clarke doesn't expect, she smirks after a second of looking at her wife and tilts her head, "…I have an idea."
Clarke turns her head in curiosity, her brain immediately trying to pick up on why she feels both pride and a sense of excitement from her wife. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't slightly concerned, especially when considering how somewhat unpredictable Lexa has been of late.
Something she rarely is, at least, to Clarke.
The flagship village of bluecliff, sits perched high on a blue cliff of a crater caused by the bombs and some mineral in the rocky earth that reacted to the heat.
As it turns out, they did want Wanheda to enter the village. A last resort if need be.
Clarke's got to hand it to her; Lexa's plan is a good one. She just hopes it's enough to convince Bluecliff where their best interests lie. She heads off with Ryder and Beland, who will cover them with their arrows. They bid her a 'ste yuj' each, which she returns, before she is separating from them as well to get into her position.
Once settled in her crouch, one knee touching the earth, she takes a deep breath, fingertips grazing the ground as she tries to relax her tense muscles. There, waiting in the wings, hidden by trees, she hopes this works they way they plan.
When she hears the whistle, she steps out of the crouch and into the very edge of the village dwellings. Clarke sparks the flames and they shoot out of her palms to slowly spread in a thick wall to encircle the village. The energy hums within her as she grins, basked in the flare of the light, where she watches Lexa spark her own light and shroud her and the wolves within it.
Her wife walks at an intimidating pace; a true embodiment of the 'throw me to the wolves, and I'll return leading the pack,' as she walks in the middle of the two wolves, a bright white light surrounding them, blinding even in the midday sun. She stalks the ground, owning every inch, Heda matching the wolves wide gait stride for stride.
Lexa shows no fear. No weakness.
Right now, she's a wolf herself, walking on two legs.
She leads them safely through the wall of flames to greet what appears to be the entire village that has come to see what the commotion is. They stand in awe of the flames and the scene of heda, flanked by wolves, untouched as she walks through the fire.
The shouts of Heda, slowly break out across the crowd, the questions of where her ghost wife is follow, then, directions to keep an eye out for Wanheda. Their voices are fearful, shocked and questioning. No one makes any aggressive moves forward; they simply stand on guard now, weapons raised, and prepared for an attack.
Lexa waits, eyeing the situation carefully, calculating the numbers of threats before she lets her shield down and she speaks. When she opens her mouth a rush of energy, like a gust of wind, shoots out as she yells causing the people before her to tremble and stumble in its wake.
"Kru kom Bluecliff, the leader you foolishly chose to follow has fallen! Ambrose's fight has ended in his search for the throne; betrayed by Azgeda before he could do the same! He fell by The Winter Queen's hand! He was not worthy to try for the throne! It is not his birthright!"
No one shouts out, not one person seems to breathe at the news as she continues. Clarke can't tell if it's because some Bluecliff returned to inform them, or if they are simply shocked by the news. She didn't miss Lexa's emphasis on the whole his birthright thing, but it seems the people around Lexa have.
"I offer you today the chance to see your people survive this! His blood soaks the Polis streets, his ashes taken away with the wind; we need no more of yours! You can kneel, you can have a leader chosen for you from your numbers, and you will be admitted into the coalition where you belong!" she lets the offer hang in the air, here eyes scanning the crowd in search of something, or someone.
"You will surrender the natblida, that is the only blood we seek today; fail to do so and the clans of the coalition will declare war with Bluecliff!" she finally adds the condition tied to what she offers.
As expected, shouts erupt at the mention of the child and of war. Word has spread of the conclave changes, the mood shift from fearful to angry. It shifts again from anger to rage as they consider the threat of being at war with more than Polis.
Clarke works to breathe slow as she watches, tightening the flames circle as she moves a little closer at the sense of threat.
The wolves growl threateningly and Lexa stands firm, "Surrender the child, kneel, and live to see tomorrow's dawn! This is not a negotiation."
Mob mentality is a weird beast in both human and animal nature. A beast Lexa did not take into account in her plan.
Because, all it takes is one.
One person to begin and the herd to follow.
So when one of the closest men shouts, "Gon we o wan op!" Leave or die! Clarke curses under her breath as Lexa narrows her eyes to the threat just as another shout rings out and another after that. Clarke is forced to drop the wall of flames and use them to move further inside the village in hopes to alleviate the threats from a different angle, to watch Lexa's blind side.
"Wamplei kom heda!" Death to the commander! A woman shouts out loud above the rest.
And then all hell breaks loose.
The first man, the one that started the shouting, rushes forward and an arrow flies through the air, piercing him right in the neck, dropping him at Lexa's feet. She smirks as Heda's mask is firmly set in place, eyes flaring at the blood, and she pulls her swords from her back with lightning speed.
Then Lexa becomes a blur of light and black clothes. Swords ring out, shouts continue and Lexa is unmerciful in those that threaten her.
The wolves pounce with her and Clarke lands in flames to run towards the fold. However, before she can get there, she finds a form in front of her causing Clarke to stop in her tracks. Her senses tingling, the baby hairs on her neck standing on end, she freezes uneasy.
It's an older woman, hunched over slightly, and trying to remain upright against her walking stick that's in her left hand. She leans on it heavily as Clarke's eyes dart from Lexa, who is moving through the riotous crowd with deadly efficiency, and back to the old woman, wondering just what the fuck she is thinking. She finds the woman has been staring at her the entire time.
The woman catches her eyes, there's a brief glint to them before she smiles; it's unsettling amidst the chaos in the distance, and yet, somehow soothing, familiar.
"Wanheda," she says with a slight nod.
Clarke doesn't respond, her mind racing and her heart beating wildly. Is this women meant to distract her?
"Clarke," the woman speaks again, this time slightly scolding sounding.
Clarke's mouth drops slightly, knowing as heda, no one is to call her by her name unless given permission. She slowly turns her head to the side, her sword in hand but making no moves to use it, "Who are you? What do you want?" she urges in trig, torn between finding out what this woman wants and just using the flames to get beyond her. (She really doesn't want to kill an old woman in cold blood.) She pushes closer to the woman, apparently her body had other plans.
The woman smiles a little wider, her wrinkled face crinkling and a twinkle to her eye. Her right arm slowly rises to point towards a small dwelling. Clarke's eyes follow the direction before she feels a sharp thwack from the walking stick on her backside that causes her to take a step forward. Clarke looks back to give the old bitch a piece of her mind only to find the woman gone, vanished.
"No…" Clarke whispers, unsure of what the fuck is happening.
She looks around wildly for her before looking back at the building. She looks to the chaos, unable to see Lexa, but feeling her rage as if it were her own. She works to keep it separate from her own emotions so she's able to think clearly.
"Fuck", Clarke curses. Her instinct to trust her gut kicking in, she begins to run full tilt towards the hut.
Lexa moves fluidly through the barrage of weapons that flail around her. She was apprehensive of raising her weapons here, she wished she needn't have to, but they gave her no choice. She told Clarke her wish to show strength in so few numbers was to demonstrate her lack of fear of Bluecliff, she hoped to inspire a fear in them that caused them to think twice about acting out against her again; but what she had not told Clarke, was that she was ready for the alternative.
Lexa was more than prepared to raise her weapons and use her energy if need be.
She was ready to do whatever necessary to do what is right for her people.
She plunges both blades into the chest of a man before she drops him to the ground like a sack of potatos. Octavia flies by her left, ripping the throat out of a woman who had caught Bill unawares. The giant grey wolf pads past her other side launching over Octavia and crushing the chest in a sickening crack as he lands on the next man.
Lexa ducks a spear, spins and cuts the legs out of another before finishing the turn to run the woman through as she followed through on her strike with the spear. Lexa growls as a blade slices her arm and she bends backwards to doge the next thrust of the closest warrior. With her legs bent at ninety degrees, she feels her back hit the warmth of fur before the beast is moving to force her up into the air; Lexa rolls in the momentum, her body floating gracefully, as she arches her blades and removes the man's head from his body before she lands on her feet.
She grins at Octavia before the red wolf bounces off for her next kill.
Beland and Ryder have joined the fight, their arrows long gone and Clarke nowhere to be seen. Lexa can feel her, knows she's close but also knows she is not fighting.
Her eyes widen, no, she senses Clarke's desperation. It makes no sense and Lexa is forced from her mind as she uses her energy to push the forces back as they crowd her. She needs space. She needs to see better. She desperately tries not to call out for Clarke.
Fear has slowly begun to seep in.
Lexa pushes forwards, the desire to find her wife, the desire to stay alive driving her blades and body. "Beland!" she shouts as he ducks an errant arrow, "Clarke?"
He shakes his head, "I don't see her, nor do I hear her!"
"Heda!" Ryder's voice cries out to her from her right, she finds him pointing in a direction to the south. "Wanheda!"
Lexa follows the direction he pointed and her breath catches for a moment in her throat.
Then, something inside Lexa clicks on, takes over, it's heda and Lexa combined as the wind rushes out of her again in a blinding light and she shouts so loud it echoes. "EM PLENI!" Ripples of air sound off like percussions as she annunciates every syllable. They're beating against everyone around her and causing the fighting to stop in its tracks as body after body goes flying to the Earth until the only ones standing are she and Clarke and those in the distance.
Lexa watches horrified as she takes in the scene of Clarke, standing alone, behind enemy lines, mere feet from the edge of the cliff. She hasn't turned around, she's focused on something in front of her.
And when she sees just what it is, Lexa's heart drops.
Right along with the body.
Followed by Clarke.