This took a different turn than even I expected it to, hmm. Thanks for all the love guys, I really appreciate it - all I can say is, in the words of the renowned philosophers ADTR, 'have faith in me'
Next update on Wednesday :)
"Find a thread to pull,
and we can watch it unravel"
Thread – Now Now.
The flames were burning high when Marie placed a hand on Clarke's shoulder, nodded her head at the girl, and disappeared into the crowd of people that were filling the clearing. This left Clarke alone to watch the flames move in their twisted dance, just as she had watched the flames in the cave only the night before. For Clarke, it had been another long day of another long week and she still couldn't shift the weight of everything from her tired bones. Ironically, it was there amongst the people gathered to celebrate the warrior's life that Clarke had the most time to think. And she did think, standing in the same position she had been in when Marie left her, and her thoughts were solemn against the party that surrounded her.
"Clarke," came a familiar voice behind her. She looked over her shoulder to see Lexa standing a respectful distance away. "May I…" the brunette continued, gesturing to the ground beside Clarke.
"This is your village, Commander," said Clarke, staring at the flames of the funeral pyre. "Do as you please."
She heard rather than saw Lexa swallow, but from the corner of her eye she watched her lower herself to the ground. Clarke remained standing.
"I thought you'd be gone."
Clarke stayed quiet, because honestly, so had she, but there she was, talking civilly to the Commander, deep in the girl's home village. And having seen the village, and seen the people, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. The flames were too familiar, but they were also so foreign.
"I should be gone," said Clarke to the funeral pyre before her. Lexa waited patiently for her to continue. "Your village is huge."
Lexa nodded gently – Clarke almost didn't see the movement. "It has a lot of memories."
Clarke tore her eyes away from the pyre, and took in the girl beside her. Lexa was sat looking up at her, legs outstretched and hands placed on the ground behind her to steady herself. Clarke could see the tension running through her limbs, it was a familiar sight. The Commander clearly wasn't comfortable.
"This is your chance," said Clarke, sitting on the ground as Lexa was. The distance Clarke put between them was as clear a message as the cold tone to her voice. Lexa's eyes scanned her face. "Tell me something which won't make me hate you any more than I already do." There was a harsh truth to her words, and Lexa could recognise it.
Lexa dropped her eyes to the ground and dragged her fingers through the dirt to place her hands in her lap. Clarke could see they were balled into fists.
"There is nothing I can tell you," she said regretfully. Her body screamed uncertainty, and it made Clarke's blood boil.
The blonde clenched her jaw. "Then tell me about your father," she said bluntly. Lexa looked up, grey eyes wide. Clarke could see they were bloodshot from shed tears, but she didn't look away. "I've told you about mine."
Lexa sighed, shoulders dropping. "Marie told you about him."
"No," Clarke replied. "Marie showed me where he worked. She told me it was something I had to ask you."
Lexa looked up to the pyre, the flames throwing the shadows of her cheekbones into a darker contrast. "I was young," she started. "My parents were hunting in the forest near where the beast attacked us…" Lexa trailed off, but Clarke stayed quiet, waiting for the girl to continue. "We had heard rumours of monsters, reaping the villages. People were going missing, and my parents were going hunting," she bit her lip and shook her head. "We found my mother's body in a pool of blood. They took my father," she laughed humourlessly now. "He must have fought hard for them to leave her – those they don't catch alive they take for food."
"Reapers," said Clarke, watching Lexa.
"The very first." Lexa fell quiet and Clarke watched on. She thought to Lincoln explaining how the Reapers were created. The fighters were the one who were chosen. "I had hoped…" Lexa began, but cut her words short with a stifled sob. She squeezed her eyes shut and didn't say anything more for a couple of minutes, but Clarke didn't offer any input. Lexa spoke again with a steadier voice, holding her chin high, watching the flames with a cool gaze. "When he came to our village, I ordered his death." Her hand moved to her shoulder where Clarke knew the scars from each life taken in battle lay. "His funeral was the last time I stayed here."
"I'm sorry you have to live with that," said Clarke softly. Everything was still wrong, and the party continued around them, but still the two girls sat.
"It was a sacrifice which had to be made," said Lexa, looking to Clarke and holding her gaze. "There is no forgiveness for pure evil."
Both girls looked away from each other, Lexa to the flames, and Clarke to the people who danced and chatted cheerfully – they were oblivious. Despite the heat of the funeral pyre, Clarke felt cold. The moon was still visible, and the stars still watched the village. The sky was inescapable, thought Clarke, like every other burden she had to bear. She found Marie watching them from across the fire.
"Did she look after you?" Clarke asked, nodding to the woman's now retreating back.
"Marie? She brought me up. Trained me when the Commander's spirit chose me. In this village, she is the Chief." Clarke nodded, she had recognised the woman's authority. "It's the only place where I am not the Commander. I am just Lexa."
Clarke studied Lexa's features, taking in the girl's tired face and clenched fists. On some level, Clarke did understand the girl's reasoning behind avoiding the village, but she couldn't shake the sense of wrongness that sat deep in her spine. Lexa stayed quiet as Clarke thought. She thought of her mother, who had floated her father, and she thought of how despite her actions she did still love the woman. She thought of Raven who had found it in her heart to forgive her, even after all that went down. And she thought of Lexa, who had Marie and a place where she was welcome without judgement, but still chose to stay away. Maybe Clarke had walked away from her people, but Lexa ran.
"You're a bit of a coward," she told Lexa after minutes of relative silence. The Commander flinched at the cold tone but didn't deny it, nor did she attempt to defend herself. Clarke stood up swiftly and started walking away.
"Clarke, wait!" Lexa called after her, standing up stiffly and reaching for the blonde's wrist.
Clarke whipped around, regarding Lexa with a glare that could freeze fire. She shrugged of Lexa's hand and breathed heavily through clenched teeth. "I don't know why I'm here," she said sharply.
"Clarke," Lexa replied, but the blonde cut her off before she could continue.
"What will happen to the Alliance?"
"My people never fought you, and we won't. They just followed my orders, there's no need for more deaths."
"More deaths?" Clarke exclaimed. She lowered her voice to prevent more people from turning around. "Are you going to tell me that their faces haunt you too? Because that would be just perfect." She spoke now in a bitter whisper that made the Commander shrink into herself before Clarke's eyes. "Believe me when I say this Commander, I do not want more deaths, but I no longer speak for my people and I will not be able to stop them if they decide to punish your people for leaving us to take down Mount Weather all by ourselves."
It was a challenge again, and Clarke looked at Lexa with a stern face and burning eyes. The tick of the time bomb had been replaced by the haunting echo of a battle drum. Before the Commander could reply, a young boy walked up to them carrying bottles in his small hands. Clarke walked away to calm herself, leaving Lexa to deal with the boy on her own. A second later, Lexa had caught up with her.
Without thinking, Clarke pulled Lexa out of the clearing and down one of the abandoned streets. She moved fast, fuelled by the fire which was slowly burning away at the confusion, for when the smoke of the ticking unknown had cleared it gave way to a glaring truth; as much as she wanted everything to be okay, it wasn't, and Clarke wasn't sure it ever would be.
"There were too many people there, laughing and drinking," she explained to Lexa who stood watching. They had stopped in the shadows of a crossroad, and their breaths hung in the air around them. In the warmth of the fire Clarke had forgotten how cold Earth was getting.
"It is how we celebrate the living, Clarke. It is customary to drink at these things." Lexa's voice was quiet, almost pleading.
Clarke went to speak, but found that words failed her. She stared at Lexa, thinking back to Camp Jaha. They certainly wouldn't be celebrating. "My people are mourning, Lexa, and you are telling me that I should drink?" she asked, shaking her head in disgust. "I should be with them, not here." She moved away from Lexa, walking backwards slowly.
"Please stay," Lexa whispered.
"That sounds like weakness, Commander," replied Clarke coldly. Somewhere between watching the village and talking to Lexa she had made her decision. Lexa gulped, shaking her head. "If you truly care for me," she continued bitterly. "You won't stop from me from leaving."
And with that, Lexa could only watch as Clarke turned away from her and walked off into the night.