A week later, it's early in the afternoon, sunlight is pouring in from the open balcony and the drapes are gently rustling in the breeze. It's calm outside, a wonderful summer day, promising plenty of sun and shade alike.

Unfortunately, the gentle weather and soft hum of the city creeping in from outside is the complete opposite to the atmosphere within the throne room.

You could describe it as organized chaos.

Lexa sits, regal by nature in her throne; chin held high, with Clarke standing to her left, her right hand resting on one of the ornate branches. She's Drawing strength and recharging just as Lexa is from the contact with the century old seat. Their faces remain stoic, impeccably passive as Heda and Wanheda listen and watch the room of clan leaders and dignitaries discuss (bicker over) plans, while Raven attempts to play mediator.

Raven looks sweaty and odd, like she's trying not to combust where she stands, as she tries to keep order from between both sides of the room. As intense as the situation is for her, Clarke can't deny the smile and undeniable enjoyment the new Flamekeeper also seems to be getting from the drama and somewhat explosive atmosphere.

Raven is thriving, incredibly fearless in her role. Organized chaos is, apparently, her thing. (As if anyone could have doubted her.)

There are various arguments going on around the room. Abrupt outbursts, occasional posturing and quite honestly, bitching.

Glowing forest has complaints of their search parties not returning; they've lost four in the last two weeks. They weren't the first to go missing and Clarke knows deep down that they won't be the last; every clan of the coalition has lost search parties and people over these many months, all the way back to when jasper was still alive. The issue is that they all go missing in various parts of the nations and borderlands, so they can't narrow down who is taking them or what exactly is happening to them. They have to be connected but so far, there's nothing to prove it except some bloody scenes and no bodies.

It's odd, infuriating, no one knows anything, no one comes back to camp with new information. They have no one to point fingers at.

Well, almost, no one.

There are reports from Trikru and the boat clan that broadleaf has all but disappeared, shallow valley much the same. No one knows where they are and are finding it far too easy to draw a conclusion on ice nation, a known threat. Delphi swear they've seen Azgeda in their borderlands, while other clan reports put them in three other locations as well as their own nation.

The clans are understandably restless and growing increasingly impatient. Lexa and Clarke's handling of Bluecliff both alleviated and added to the pressure all at once. No one is sure what to do, but when you can only really see one side of the war right now how can you blame them for pointing at Azgeda. The only enemy they have real undeniable proof of now is ice nation, which unfortunately means that's the only thing they all agree on.

Go fucking figure, Clarke thinks.

What does surprise her, though she can't fault them, is that Even Luna and Shaw have become both apprehensive and restless on which courses of action they should follow now. Their people are pushing for action they keep trying to hold a bay. They are sworn allies with undeniable and unwavering faith in their leaders, but they are finding it harder and harder to justify decisions to their people.

Clarke understands. She doesn't like it, but she gets it. She's facing and has faced similar issues.

Azgeda showed weakness in retreat, it only makes sense that they all want to attack now. Even word from skaikru tells of some people pushing for action, Bellamy among them (not that Clarke's surprised).

To add to that issue, No one has come forward with any advancement on the vaults or the undead. No one has had visual of Ontari; some rumours have even spread of her being dead by her own people's hands.

It's all adding up against them and Lexa and Clarke are having a hard time justifying holding off on invasion.

Except for entirely different reasons.

For Clarke, she has a secret tumultuous truce with their queen. A bargain she struck for the good of them all, and by communicating in secret, she knows that bitch lives. At least, for now.

For Lexa, she has a not so secret wish to destroy Ontari herself. To end her fight, no armies' necessary, all while maintaining hope to keep the nation alive by sacrificing their monarchy and having them kneel. It's what she believes she should have done with Nia after Costia, what she foolishly gave up on thinking peace would be lasting; a mistake she made that could have prevented all of this. A mistake she won't make again. For Lexa, that truce Clarke already struck in secret doesn't begin until Ontari's dead.

Clarke nervously glances around the room as the shouting picks up again and a few too many side eyes are thrown their way for her liking. She grips the throne a little harder, preventing her itchy fingers from pulling a blade or sparking a flame. She can fucking feel the Sparks in her left hand that's clenched at her other side.

Chill the fuck down, be cool, she tells herself.

Lexa can sense the tension rolling off her wife, as it causes Lexa to indiscreetly (to everyone but Clarke) roll her neck to relieve it. Seconds later, Clarke feels her calm energy wash over her like a cleansing rain. She breathes a little easier, her arm tingles instead of her hand sparking, and her fist and grip on the throne relax a bit.

She calms minutely however, because now she wonders how Lexa is keeping so cool amidst all this chaos. She watches her wife discreetly, her eyes never lingering for too long while she mulls it over.

Lexa is acting... Normal. Balanced, perfectly at ease. Able to keep herself calm as well as me.

And Clarke's confused...

Which worries her. For one, Lexa rarely confuses her anymore; Clarke has always read her like a book, cover to cover in just one look. Second, She should be thrilled to see her wife back in action; she would be, except she knows Lexa hasn't been sleeping well, knows she's been anything but relaxed. She watches her leave at random times of the night to walk the tower and find a peace she can't in sleep. She does it In hopes to let Clarke rest peacefully undisturbed, she doesn't know that Clarke always watches her go, doesn't know her wife remains awake while she disappears. Yes, Clarke is well aware that Lexa is still a bit of a mess inside, overwhelmed and scared of losing control, despite her valiant effort to hide it.

Just as they all are in some way, over something.

So Clarke watches her, because not so very long ago, Lexa was acting brash and unpredictable, and now she sits calm and cool. Clarke is wondering where that rage has been channeled now, wondering what is keeping her mind and emotions on the same page, and there's a large part of her that's worrying if Lexa's using all her strength to remain passive and stoic now only to crash hard later in the privacy of their chambers. The thought alone is a weight on her chest.

It's true, they've mended some of the damage they both caused to each other, but some secrets still remain, some truths have not been revealed and some conversations have yet to be had. They sit in the room with them at all times, the elephants they can't ignore though they try.

Lost in thought, Clarke almost doesn't register seeing the head of Bill pop through the doors to signal not her or Lexa but Raven. Almost misses the flashing glance from Raven to Lexa indicating a silent conversation. Almost.

Of course she sees it, she's been focused on her wife and feels the switch instantly when the calming presence washing over her is removed and something like anticipation is sensed from her wife.

A second later, Lexa is standing, signaling the room to quiet down immediately. Raven bows slightly and dashes out the door while Lexa speaks, "that is enough for now. We reconvene at dusk."

With a hand held out to Clarke, which is instinctively grabbed, Lexa leads them regally from the room, while Clarke hides her confusion. They never break this early; the meeting had only been going on a little over an hour. Once more, she's confused.

Once away from prying ears and eyes, Clarke pulls Lexa to a stop. "What was that about?"

"Clarke, we don't have time for this. You'll see soon enough. I have to go meet with Raven." Lexa moves to leave.

"And the twins?" Clarke questions with raised brows, crossing her arms across her chest.

Lexa stops and turns to look at her, sighing, she answers, "yes."

"And there's a reason you're trying to get me to let you go alone?"

"Yes."

Clarke's eyes widen. She was expecting an affirmation, but perhaps not so bluntly delivered. A 'Clarke, no' thinly veiled, but evident to her.

Lexa turns again to leave with Clarke gaping after her, "so, are you coming or not?" She calls over her shoulder.

Clarke indulges in the briefest of smirks before she trots after Lexa, a weird sense of pride and love swarming inside her when her wife knew her well enough to know she'd follow - invite or not.

She mentally shrugs, the ever present mantra of 'Clarke, yes' echoing in her ears as she quickens her pace.

Clarke follows Lexa, barely a step behind, all the way out of the tower. Her wife begins to veer left and right before entering a newly formed doorway into the remaining, rubble cleared dungeons.

She's about to ask why they're here, wondering who Lexa had been holding down here, as far as she knew they were holding no one; before she can inquire, she sees bill, Beland and Ryder speaking in hushed tones ahead of them. She sees raven standing by a cell, her head tilted in contemplation.

Clarke's questions die in her throat as she moves beyond Lexa, passed the men, and comes to a stop beside Raven. Her eyes widen as she watches the cell for a few moments before turning on her heels, "what is this?" She demands to know, her eyes on Lexa now.

Her wife, who had her green eyes glued to her the entire time, looks briefly at the floor before glancing at Raven and back to her. "Hopefully, proof."

"Lexa?" Clarke says cautiously, somewhat confused, before turning back around to look at the cell. Then she's forced to reach up and grip the iron bars as her vision blurs and she's dropped back into a memory of an eerily similar situation.

A memory where she's Claire and Lexa is Alex, standing not behind her but beside her as they stare through a pane of glass, deep beneath the earth.

A wet gurgle rattles her vision back to the situation at hand and she blinks to clear away the fog. She looks beyond the bars into the tiny cell to see a young man, clad in glowing forest colours, and struggling to breathe.

Clarke growls and glares at those in the dungeon with her "open the door!" She shouts, "I can help him!"

"Clarke." Lexa says hoping to calm her; she sends a wave of it over Clarke to be sure.

Clarke spins when she feels the attempt and glares harder at her, she holds up a hand, "Don't even try to pull that shit with me right now, Lexa! Open. The. Damn. Door!"

Lexa immediately stops trying to calm her and looks at her momentarily before ultimately resigning and nodding to Ryder to follow the direction. Clarke moves to follow him to the door, impatiently tapping her foot while he fiddles with the keys, "get me water and cloths, now! Get a medical bag!" She snaps at the twins.

"Bill," Lexa corrects the order, wishing for Beland to stay.

Bill nods and leaves at a run, as Ryder finally springs the lock. A hand on Clarke's shoulder tries to stop her before she shrugs out of Raven's grip and ducks into the cell.

She drops to her knees and starts examining the young man, "what happened? Why is he in here?" She questions to no one in particular, as her hands fly around his feverish body, frantically looking for the wound.

No one answers.

No one has to.

Clarke's hands stop as she moves the boy's shirt aside.

She tenses, eyes flicking from his pained face to a revolting looking bite.

Human bite.

A festering human bite.

With purplish blood, congealed and slowly oozing, a tinge of a putrid smell wafting from it.

Her heart spikes as another wet gurgle and raspy breath breaks the boys lips. Clarke stares; frozen in shock, mouth slightly parted, while her mind reels.

"We found him this morning in the rover," Raven's voice cracks behind her, she can tell she's moved into the cell door way. "He had escaped the attack and was running through the tree line, south of here, he fell unconscious before we got to him."

Clarke clenches her jaw as bill comes into the cell with what she asked for. He doesn't leave her side; in sympathy, or perhaps pity, he helps her back to her senses by handing her the wet cloth. He even helps her guide her hand to the task of wiping the boys wound when at first she made no move.

Her hands shake as she tries to clean the bite. What can she do? How is she supposed to help?

She's out of her element here; she knows how to cause death, she knows how to prevent it, prolong it if she so chooses, but she doesn't know how to combat a virus (or whatever the fuck it is) that brings you back from it.

Clarke inhales sharply as she blinks through visions of what comes next after a bite, after death, things she saw first hand through Claire's eyes.

She drops the cloth in bills hand, trusting him to continue as a strange frustration and fury is taking over her that's fuelled by fear. She's the only one in the room who has truly seen what happens next.

They have no idea. Not yet.

Before she knows it, she's standing and closing the distance before she pushes Raven in the chest forcing her backwards out of the cell. "I don't even know where to begin with this! I don't know what to start yelling about, there's that much!"

She glares from Raven to Lexa, the boys and back to the flamekeeper as she hears Ravens huffed comment of 'seems like you're off to a good start.'

Fine. That settles where.

She steps into Ravens space again, "What if he turned? What if he turned before you got him into a cell! In the fucking Rover? You didn't see what I did, the speed I witnessed in the vaults after the turn takes over, after you come back! You both could have-"

"We didn't." Lexa is quick to point out, foolishly trying to think that makes the risk worth it to Clarke. Trying to defend her and Ravens actions, trying to protect Raven from taking the brunt of Clarke's anger.

The blonde rages, "that doesn't matter! You could have! Easily! That fucking tin can is tiny! Bound or not, the speed and strength, he could have!" As mad as she is, she can't bring herself to say exactly what she fears could have happened. She doesn't need to.

"Clarke," she vaguely hears from one of the men but she ignores them, finding her groove.

"You two have been sneaking out, taking joyrides while none of us knew! Anything could have happened out there!" Her eyes flare briefly to Lexa, driving a certain hurtful point home and simultaneously letting Lexa know she watches her leave at night, " For fuck sakes I thought you were at least in the tower!"

Finding no reaction other than her wife's eyes widening Clarke continues into her next point, "Paul is looking for his people and you have one, have had him since before dawn, waiting for him to die just to see if he comes back. Some kind of twisted experiment-"

"Well when you put it like that, it sounds terrible." Raven mutters.

"It is like that!" Clarke shouts, her hands balling into fists, the torches along the wall flaring.

"If what you say is true, there's nothing we could do for him anyways. Not until we know more," Raven defends.

"We needed proof Clarke," Lexa's velvety voice seeps into the conversation finally. It's calm in the face of Clarke's rage, not a trace of guilt now on her features, stoic.

Resolute in their actions.

It irks Clarke more than it soothes right now.

Because, in Lexa's emerald eyes, Clarke can see the sadness and pain, it's threatening to throw a wet rag on her blazing fury.

"I get that," she says a little softer, disappointed even, "but you shouldn't have let this happen. Not this way." She does get it, she understands both their points, Lexa wants proof to buy them time with the clan leaders and Raven wants to understand what the fuck they're up against.

Silence falls briefly, too much silence, and it becomes very apparent that there's no wet gurgle in the background any longer. She tenses as bill calls to her again.

"Clarke!"

All eyes go from her to the cell as she too turns to see.

"Get out of there, Bill!" She shouts, immediately seeing the now dead body, she rushes forward to the cell door as he looks at her questioningly but ultimately rises to the order.

She stares beyond him as he comes closer watching and waiting for the threat to appear. She can feel it coming, but she still gasps as what she saw through Claire, is now witnessed by her own to eyes.

The boy begins to stir, eyes flicker open and his chest barely moves but a new gurgle, choked and unfulfilling, breaks his lips as jaws begin to snap.

Clarke claws at Bill's shoulder, pulling him out of the way as the boy moves at lightening speed to rise from the bed. He's drawn by the sound or smells, maybe both; she doesn't have time to consider as she hears her name being shouted behind her. Wanheda rouses and she sidesteps bill and pulls the sword from her back.

The boy sees her through dead eyes and shifts, making a grab for her. The cell is small; she kicks his chest before her back hits the wall. She strikes him in the head with the hilt of her sword, buying her a second to leap on to the bed to round on the not so dead man right before he lunged a second time.

She takes her chance and stabs her sword directly through his back, the tip piercing through his rib cage and clattering into the cement wall in front of him.

No cry of pain, no scream of rage comes when it should from the force of her blow.

The gurgle turns into a snarl, and jaws continue to snap. He acts as though there is no weapon protruding through his form, his hands reach and claw at his own back in attempts to get to her, spit and blood flying from his mouth as his teeth snap over and over again.

Clarke is momentarily stunned, both hands gripping her sword, frozen where she stands, one foot awkwardly on the bed and another on the ground. She's planted solidly but she feels like she's floating.

This isn't happening, she thinks desperately. This is not happening.

Except, it totally is.

However, for Clarke, it seems knowing it is out there and seeing it before you are two entirely different things. She didn't expect to react like this, not after everything she's been through.

As well, she didn't realize there truly was no pain after death. She didn't believe that possible, not after meeting Claire in veil who still carries a very real pain with her, and certainly not after what she's been through herself.

And definitely not after what she's done.

Also, how is he still functioning, she's sure her blade had gone right through his heart. She is about to remove it and strike again as waves of panic are rolling through her now trembling body. In her alarm, she forgets that through Claire and Elyza she has seen how they are to be put down, she forgets that she has the knowledge to end this now.

"Clarke! Hod op!" Lexa voice comes through her wall of panic and snaps her out of it, "hold him steady!"

"Right," Clarke manages to mutter less distractedly, somewhat sarcastically; as the boy continues to struggle, her blade is continuing to rip a larger hole in him as he moves, and his dead clouded eyes are unblinking. Lexa and Bill are beside her now, murmuring to each other in trig, as they help hold him steady and bind the boy's hands.

"Don't let him scratch you," Raven says, "hey, watch the mouth!"

Clarke glares at her over her shoulder. As if they needed that point of advice. Clarke doesn't even want the thing at the end of her blade, let alone allow it to touch her in any way. She briefly remembers touching his wound and the medical training in her immediately wants to wash her hands with scalding water...

"No," Lexa says when Clarke makes another move to remove her sword after the boy's hands are tied "keep him like that."

Clarke frowns, awkward as ever with the struggling being impaled on her sword, as Lexa leaves the cell. She's unsure of whether Lexa wishes to leave him on the end of her sword to let the clan leaders see that the boy should truly be dead, or if it's to keep him secure and her out of his reach should his binds come loose.

As she glances from his back to his hands, she figures it's probably both considering he's now struggling so much his skin is breaking and a purplish red colour is beginning to stain the ropes that bind him. She's also sure she heard the distinct sound of his right shoulder coming out of place and his elbow snapping, but he made no obvious sign of pain or discomfort.

It all makes her stomach roll.

"Beland? Raven?" Lexa asks them questioningly.

They both fall quiet in concentration before they sigh and shake their heads.

The undead have no thoughts. He's not a man-child of the glowing forest any longer, that boy is gone. Replaced with a mindless rabid hunger and about to become a symbol of the new battle before them.

Entering the throne room to reconvene the meeting is not a particularly joyous or victorious moment for Lexa as you might expect.

Yes, she's brought proof of the new and previously unseen threat, but at what cost?

Not only was she, as Clarke not to wrongly put it, 'sneaking out' with Raven when sleep was hard to come by, not only was she hiding that and a few other things from her wife, but she hid a member of her coalition from his own people to wait for him to die.

Just to see if he would come back.

A twisted science experiment indeed, Clarke wasn't wrong about that either.

She feels horrible about it all, of course she does, but she also had few other options. Previous teachings that love is weakness have been proven misguided and devastatingly wrong, but the underlying message that the duty she has to her people has to come first remains ever present and true. Doing this, in such a way, is to protect the many at the expense of a few.

After all, what also remains true is that victory stands on the back of sacrifice. Lexa's fighting two battles, black and white does not exist for her. Good and bad are one and the same at different times.

That's something that Clarke and her know very well though they can occasionally land on different sides of the situation. Her belief that she had to make this choice is all that keeps her feet moving at a steady pace as she enters the room, followed by a walking, jaw snapping corpse that's controlled by the sword of her wife.

The walking dead, the first that they've seen, Commanded by the Commander of Death herself.

Needless to say, the throne room doesn't bow like they typically do when the leaders enter; Lexa lets it slide, knowing they would have had they not been assaulted by the startling view.

Silence echoes around the sounds of scuffling feet and a corpse making noises, as Lexa and the group take their positions. She stands in front of the throne, taking in the various expressions around the room.

"Well, shit." Luna breaks the lingering silence and some of the tension.

Shaw elbows her in the ribs but her eyes are glued to Clarke and the not so dead man, she's hiding her fear well. Those in the room well trained in battle and death know he should not be moving, let alone walking; they watch with guarded eyes, hands twitching for blades that may or may not be there.

Heda has brought proof of the new enemy, the previously unseen threat and her and Raven bought Clarke and Lexa time to keep the clans from invading Azgeda.

Or so they thought.

Hours later, Clarke still holding the struggling man with her sword, hears the shouts saying Azgeda could be behind this as well. The finger pointing continues and she fights the urge to roll her eyes. She's tired, drained from today and the physical effort of holding the boy, but glad to find that his strength and speed is waning. His binds still hold his hand tight though they have broken the skin and rest on bone now. Frustrated and tired, She also fights the urge to shout at Paul for making the suggestion but refrains, understanding his desire to get justice for the tragic fate of his young scout.

"He did not travel from Azgeda," Raven says to him, an air of fatigue in her own voice, "we located him in the borderlands, returning from the southeast.

"The southeast? He should have been in the north!"

Lexa turns to look at Paul, pouncing on his slip, "the north? Had I not forbade your clan from searching there a month ago?"

The room pauses at her question, everyone knowing the answer.

Paul swallows, "sha, Heda."

"And you defied me?"

Again, not really a question that required an answer.

Paul glance around the room before clearing his throat, "I had little choice. My people wouldn't stand for waiting, they sought proof."

"Proof that may or may not be in Azgeda." Lexa says forcefully coming to a stand, "your efforts came to nothing, your efforts impeded progress we could have made elsewhere. Trikru and Skaikru were searching the north, unknowingly passing the very areas your people were."

She's visibly angry, Clarke doesn't blame her, Paul has hindered their progress by this move, had he put his scouts where they directed they would have searched more land instead of some places more than once. The urge to yell and smack his stupid ass upside the head grows.

"I apologize commander, I was just trying to do what is best for my people."

"As we all are," Lexa states, eyes pointed, fixed on the now trembling man. A challenge.

He bows his head and falls to his knees, wisely choosing not to take it.

"No one else has made a move to defy their orders despite increasing pressures from their people," Lexa points out, an obvious dig at his weakness and inability to properly lead. "Your actions require punishment, you question your leaders decisions and defy their order. I should throw you from this tower!" Lexa seethes, she glances around the room, letting her threat sink in.

They've seen it before, and for lesser reasons. Lexa has every right to kill those she does not trust; it's partially what has kept her alive in her reign much longer than her predecessors.

Lexa raises her chin and stands firm, hands clasped at the elbows, behind her back. "I am not going to do that; instead, before we continue I make a motion to have Paul removed from his role and advocate that his wife Sameen take his position," Lexa says to the room after a moments deliberation.

Sameen has always been quite apt when she and Lexa met at gatherings and would discuss coalition proceedings. Her conversations had always led her to believe she was the one speaking in Paul's ear on matters, as often, she would hear her words from his mouth verbatim. Though she rarely attends polis councils she's smart, well informed, and aware of a bigger picture versus what she's shown. She has foresight, where Paul lacks it.

Also, Sameen is present today for the meeting because Lexa requested it and Paul won't fly from the tower because Sameen requested it; Lexa knew about Paul's move the day after he made it, informed by his wife, she simply needed proof from the horses mouth to prevent any who would question her motives for removing him (she doesn't need any more trouble). She has every right to kill the man, proven to be untrustworthy in his position, but doing so at this stage would be unwise. Her threat was for show to all but her and his wife, Sameen and Lexa had agreed to this course of action a month ago.

Clarke's knowing glance that Lexa catches confirms that she's caught on to what happened behind the scenes without any of them knowing it, even her. There's an apology in her eyes that Clarke doesn't think she needs, but a second later, the now apparent slight she feels when she runs this little secret over again in her head says otherwise. Then, before she can stop herself her mind wanders to how secrets began to build up between them, guilty of it herself, her heart pangs for them both. Sure, they can read each other like a book, cover to cover, but she never realized they should also be reading between the lines.

Clarke watches Lexa take a beat of eye contact with her before she finally looks away to nod at Raven.

The flamekeeper clears her throat and steps forward on cue, too ready to move - making Clarke aware that Raven knew this secret long before she did. (The jealous monster inside her seethes despite her wishes.)

"Those in favour raise your right hand." Those opposed, go float yourself, Raventhinks, allowing Lexa to hear it and earning a small twitch at the corner of her lip. It's Something she does often now, a goal she's placed before herself to see if she can get the mask to slip, for Lexa to fall out of Heda's character like a skit in Saturday night live; to get her smiling again. She just misses her bro, the Lexa that she grew to know and love, the one who had finally started living. She's trying to get her back, little by little, to remind her that life goes on, that they all have battle scars, that she too can build a brace for hers. Perhaps, even that love and laughter is the way to do it.

The hands in the room rose unanimously, Sameen's included, at the call for a vote.

Lexa glares at Paul before speaking, "the coalition has spoken. there is little happening in my nations without me knowing, you will do well to remember that." He nods solemnly and rises from his seat, allowing his wife to take his place.

Watching the scene unfold, the room is shook back to the other issue at hand as the walking corpse chooses this moment to shift on Clarke's sword, finally tearing a gaping hole through his torso and freeing himself as he lunges for Lexa. Her body, years of training and blessed muscle memory kicking in and taking over, quickly moves to avoid his snapping lunge. Just getting out of the way as Clarkes sword swings to land a blow on his hip, slowing him down again. Lexa moves another step, her long regal coat and sash floating as she's launching a rounded kick to his back forcing him behind the throne and towards the balcony.

The momentum carries him, he stumbles onward, and Lexa helps him along with another straight kick sending him off the towers high window. The sickening crunch is heard ringing out through the city and up to the tower. The room collectively stills as Clarke and Lexa move with Raven to peer over the edge.

The dead man is finally moving no more.

As soon as they turn around, shouts erupt in the room, both worried and furious at what they witnessed, not at what Lexa had been forced to do, but at what it took to finally end him. Chaos runs rampant once more in the form of shouts and Lexa lets it, always finding it easier to control the room after the pent up energy is expelled. Letting them know they are being heard. She stands, not winded at all, as if nothing happened, with her hands behind her back in the midst of the yelling, eyes coolly observing the room.

It's Clarke that is having a hard time, her chest is the one that's heaving, her mind that's reeling with images of a hundred years ago mingling with what she's seen for their future. She blinks and glanced at her wife, her slight panic attack making itself known to Lexa swiftly as she feels her wife send calming waves over her to help soothe it.

Then Clarke receives a nod from Lexa, granting her permission to leave while she continues the meeting. Clarke pulls Raven with her and together they flame down to remove the body. She needs to calm down, she needs time to think, to process, but they can't risk rumours and fear spreading or even someone unknowingly contracting the disease through the spread of his blood.

There is still work to be done.