Morning dawned with a shimmer of grey light through the window and the sound of rain falling softly. Lexa grumbled unhappily into her pillow for a moment before rolling over to get out of bed. Halfway through her roll, her eyes opened to see a figure looming over her reclined form. She shrieked, throwing herself back the way she had come from and straight off the bed, landing in a crouch and searching around her for a weapon.

Her search was halted when she heard a familiar laugh. Rising slowly, she saw Clarke at the side of her bed, bent over and clutching her sides as she absolutely howled. "Oh, my gods, your face! And that scream, oh my gods…" She trailed off into paroxysms of laughter, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.

Lexa scowled and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Is this what I'm to expect now? You stalking me while I sleep?" She really hoped not. Yes, she had essentially sworn her life to this girl the night before, but there were some things that were just crossing a line. Getting stuck with a crazy girl with delusions of grandeur was one thing. She could deal with that. She might even enjoy that. But a crazy girl with delusions of grandeur and stalkerish tendencies? No.

Still chuckling, Clarke shook her head. "No, don't worry, this isn't a normal thing for me." She winked at Lexa. "Unless you want it to be."

Sighing, Lexa decided that it was too early to deal with any of this. "What is it you want, Clarke?"

Clarke sobered, moving to take a seat on the end of Lexa's bed. "We need to finish our conversation from last night. I told you the most basic outline of what I intend. Before we introduce you to the world as my new body slave, we'll need to hammer out the details." She fidgeted absently with the bedspread, looking slightly nervous.

Lexa squinted at her. She hadn't expected any kind of uncertainty from her mad girl, just more of the steel from the night before. What she was seeing now, though, looked like Clarke was worried. Worried about me? Worried that I'll reject her now that I've had a bath and a night's sleep? It was a startling though, putting Clarke in a more human light. She dropped her arms. "All right, but does this have to happen now? Can I at least bathe first?"

To her credit, Clarke did manage to keep her eyes on Lexa's face. Lexa smirked internally, smug with the knowledge that the girl so obviously wanted her. It was also nice that she was so willing to respect her. From what she knew of the Arcamian nobles, that wasn't something often found. The girl grimaced sheepishly. "Um, no, actually. There are others in this villa, slaves and such, as well as my beloved mother. You should know what you need to know before running into them." She dropped her eyes. "My mother is going to be difficult. The more you know, the better prepared you'll be."

Sighing dramatically, Lexa flopped back down on the bed, sprawling sideways across it so her head was parallel to Clarke's thigh. Off the blonde's raised eyebrow, she said, "What? You came into my bedchamber and interrupted my sleep. My comfort is no cost to you. Now tell me what you need to. We will discuss and then I will bathe."

Clarke worried her hands together. It wasn't that she wasn't confident, or that she was having second thoughts about her plan, it was just… She was going to have to talk about her father, and that was an open wound that still bled every time she saw Abby.

Glancing down at the brunette next to her, calm gaze trained on her, she swallowed. Lexa had shared her hurts with her, telling her every gruesome detail that had befallen her family. Clarke owed the other girl her truth. If anyone would understand it would be the hurricane lying next to her. She sighed, then began.

"Arcam is ruled by a council of thirteen. Symbolically, this represents the Twelve Territories and Arcam itself, with the Chancellor as the thirteenth. My father was on that council from the time he was seventeen. This council, as well as the generals of the army, advise the Chancellor on all major actions taken by Arcam, as well as handling lesser matters that he does not wish to be disturbed by. There are several actions that may only be authorized by the Chancellor, however. The ability to declare war is among them."

She paused to make sure Lexa was still following. Those green eyes were still watching her, and for some reason that intent focus was comforting. She took a breath. "Are you aware of the events to the north, on the border of Arcam and Gelus?" Lexa paused, thinking, then shook her head.

Clarke rolled her eyes. "Then allow me to fill in the blanks. I'll keep it simple. Gelus is Arcam's largest and most profitable trade partner. The revenue that comes in from them in a year outstrips our next three largest combined. It's this profit that drives the council to ignore the raiding parties Gelum sends across the border."

Lexa inhaled sharply and sat up. "They send war parties into Arcam?" Clarke nodded mutely. "That's an act of war! How can the Chancellor justify doing nothing? Surely the people-"

Clarke cut her off. "The people know nothing. The council makes sure of that. Forcibly, if necessary. Entire villages have been wiped out and attributed to the wilders, when in reality they were slaughtered for the crime of knowing something that Jaha would rather they didn't." She smiled bitterly. "My father was opposed to this. He felt that the people had a right to know that they were in danger, especially since in recent years the raids have been getting more daring. People are enslaved, soldiers are killed, towns looted, and Jaha does nothing." She drew a breath. "My father tried to reason with him, tried to make him see the danger we're in. The Chancellor refused, so my father went behind his back. He organized a group of high-ranking officials, a few of the councilors among them, and formed a plan to force the Chancellor's hand by revealing the truth to the country."

She laughed bitterly, passing a hand over her face. No matter how many times she thought about this, the pain never lost its edge. It was a knife's edge, jagged and rusty, shoved between her ribs. She closed her eyes. "It was a good plan. It probably would have worked, but…"

Lexa had turned over while she spoke, and put a hand on her thigh. She didn't say anything, but her gaze held warmth. Clarke gathered her composure, needing to get the words out in one go. "They were betrayed. One of their members, a noble who didn't have a seat on the council, went to Jaha. I am unsure of the exact details of the deal that was struck, but as far as I can tell my father was the only councilor turned over to him. He, along with every other member of the group that didn't have a council seat, was charged with high treason and publically executed. The other members died quickly, but my father was made an example of, a punishment for his higher rank. They kept him alive for three days before allowing him to die."

Her gaze was haunted, staring at the wall without seeing. Lexa sat up and put a hand on her shoulder, offering silent support. Clarke grimaced. She had very little strength left for this topic. "The noble who betrayed them was my mother. Three days after his execution, she was awarded the council seat. It was never announced why, but I managed to get inside the Hall of Records. 'Services to the nation' is the official reason." Clarke looked at Lexa. "Two weeks later, she had all but declared her intentions of becoming the next Consort. My father hadn't been dead a month, but for all anyone knew she and Jaha were madly in love."

Her hands tightened into harsh fists. "My mother had my father killed for power. Jaha had my father killed for wealth. This I know. I will take from them that which they hold most dear – their power, their money, their status – and when they have nothing left, when they beg at my feet for scraps, then I will take their lives."

Her eyes were blazing, fury sending the normally cool blue spinning with the fires of war.

"This I swear."

Lexa was angry. No, angry wasn't the word to describe her. She was furious, livid, incandescent in her rage. Family was everything to her people. The idea of betraying your husband for power was utterly repugnant. And to do so with a daughter? To be willing to hurt her in such a way, to betray her and your husband in such a way? To hurt Clarke in such a way?

Abby Griffin should pray to her gods that she never encountered Lexa alone in the dark.

Clarke dashed a hand across her face angrily, sniffling and blinking hard. The sight of the blonde fighting tears so valiantly shook Lexa from the red haze that had taken over her mind and she rolled upright from where she had been lounging. She placed a hand on Clarke's arm and squeezed gently, trying to offer support and understanding as best she could.

Clarke laughed brokenly. "I'm sorry, I really didn't want to get like this. It's just… It's still fresh, you know?"

Lexa sighed. "I do. Don't apologize, you have no reason to."

The blonde smiled at her, tired and sweet. For once there was no hint of steel or fire in it. It was just the smile of a teenage girl who still mourned her father. It was Clarke without any of the masks or defenses or sharp edges that were so present all the time, and Lexa found that this sad, broken girl was utterly beautiful to her.

"You should bathe; my mother will be expecting me for breakfast soon and that will probably be the best time to introduce you." Lexa blinked, broken from her reverie once more by Clarke's voice. She nodded silently and fled to the bath chamber, shaken by her last thoughts.

She rushed through her routine, not wanting to be alone with her thoughts for longer than she had to be. There was only so much she could take, and the events of the last few days were quickly taking her to the edge of her tolerance. She stepped from the sunken pool and dressed quickly, allowing her hair to fall wet and curling around her shoulders as she walked hastily back to Clarke's room.

She had spent her bath alternating between going over her role as a 'slave' and thinking about Clarke. Her role was straightforward – she just needed to be respectful and do whatever Clarke or Clarke's mother said, no matter how distasteful she found the idea of allowing Abby to give her orders. Her thoughts on Clarke were another matter entirely.

The blonde continued to flout every expectation she had of her. At first she had thought that the girl just wanted a pleasure slave, a gladiator to bed every night. Then she had thought that she was insane, no human emotions inside her besides bloodlust. Now she had been given a glimpse into the girl's core, and it was beautiful and fragile and gave Lexa so many emotions.

Costia had made her feel this way, sometimes. Protective, if she had to put words to it. Like she wanted to wrap her in her arms and shield her from the world. It was a powerful feeling, and one that she was uneasy feeling for Clarke. She had known the blonde for less than a day, and already she felt the beginnings of protectiveness, of loyalty. It was disconcerting.

Lost in thought, Lexa didn't see the smaller woman rushing down the hall until she bumped into her outside Clarke's door. A flutter of papers fell from her arms, and Lexa immediately stooped to pick them up. The pin on the woman's breast had told her who she was.

"My apologies, domina, I did not see you." Lexa stood and handed Abby Griffin her papers, keeping her eyes low and her head down.

Abby looked closely at Lexa. "Who are you? I don't recognize you." She seemed perplexed by that fact, and Lexa understood why. As the only adult in the house, she was the one responsible for buying the slaves. Lexa was a new face that she hadn't purchased; it was only normal that the woman be suspicious.

She bowed. "My name is Lexa, domina." She kept her eyes on the ground, Clarke's voice running through her head and emphasizing the necessity of never making eye contact with her mother. She hadn't been told what the consequences of that were, only that they were unpleasant and that Clarke could do nothing to protect her from them.

A brisk hand grasped her chin, pulling her head up and to the side. The woman's touch wasn't harsh, merely businesslike, but still Lexa had to fight to stop herself from snarling at Abby's casual disregard for her dignity.

Abby dropped her hand, frowning. "I didn't buy you. Why are you here?" She didn't appear tense, not regarding Lexa as a threat.

Lexa struggled to keep the shock and contempt from her face. Even if she was only a girl, Abby knew nothing about her, and yet she dismissed her still. It was a sign of either complacency or arrogance, and neither endeared Clarke's esteemed mother to her.

She spoke without allowing any of her roiling emotions into her voice. "I was purchased by your daughter, domina. I serve as her body slave."

Abby's eyes narrowed. Striding forward, she knocked sharply on the doorframe of Clarke's room and burst in without waiting for a response. "Clarke!"

Clarke was seated at her table, concentrating on the sketch coming to life under her pencil. She didn't react when her mother entered at all, simply rubbing a finger over the page to smudge the charcoal. Lexa studied the blonde and saw tension in the curve of her spine, in the whiteness of the fingers clutching her pencil. She had no doubt that Clarke had heard her encounter Abby outside of her rooms and had merely waited for the confrontation.

Her mother was not amused. "Clarke, what is this?" She pointed to Lexa, standing behind her. Clarke looked past Abby, catching Lexa's gaze, and Lexa rolled her eyes. The slightest hint of a smile quirked the blonde's lips before smoothing out again.

Clarke's eyes slid back to her mother. "This is Lexa. She's my new slave." She paused for a second, then added, "I bought her from the Arena."

The older woman blinked. "Clarke, this is completely inappropriate. I do the buying in this household; you didn't even consult me! And a gladiator, of all things? You're a child, you shouldn't be around people like that!" She frowned. "No, this is completely unacceptable."

Lexa watched the woman in fascination, entranced by the absurdity of her words and marveling how this unobservant, small-minded woman could have produced a daughter made of starshine and rage.

A sound from the blonde caught her attention. She turned her gaze to Clarke, then blinked once, twice, three times, her brain not believing what her eyes told it. Clarke was… No, she couldn't be. Is she… crying?

Clarke allowed nothing but serenity to shine from her face, but inside she was far less calm. This had been the largest problem she foresaw when she bought Lexa. Her mother had never been exactly understanding when it came to Clarke's unconventional choices, but her father had tempered her. Now that he was gone, Abby had become almost irrational in trying to mold Clarke into the perfect noble daughter. It was exhausting, honestly.

Abby was beginning to turn red, a warning sign that Clarke was intimately familiar with. If she didn't head this little tantrum off now, before it really had the chance to build up steam, then there would be absolutely no chance of her mother ever seeing reason.

She braced herself for the humiliation of what she was about to do, then glanced to the ground and forced her eyes to tear up. Sniffling a few times for effect, she waited until she had a good stream running down her cheeks before meeting her mother's startled gaze. "I just… I've just been so lonely lately, since… since dad…"

Trailing off, she glanced back to the floor and dashed her sleeve against her face, making it look as if she were frustrated with her tears. She continued in a slightly stronger voice. "And then I saw Lexa in the Arena, and she was just so small and she looked so scared, and I thought that we weren't that different after all, you know? So I asked the Chancellor if he would allow me to take her and he said yes."

Clarke made sure to meet her mother's eyes before she delivered her next words. "He's just so generous, you know?"

The faint twitch of her mother's muscles, involuntary as it was, gave Clarke immense satisfaction. The words had been just a touch too ingenuous, not nearly enough to make the woman suspicious but enough to make her uncomfortable.

Her next words drove the last nail in the coffin. "I know how close he and dad were, and I'm just grateful that he's supporting us so well, just being here for you, you know? I worry about you sometimes. You got elected to the council so soon after dad…" Her mother's eyes widened. "I just worry that you're doing too much, too soon, taking on too much and not letting yourself grieve properly." She made her face as guileless as possible, wide-eyed and innocent in the manner of a toddler.

Abby ate it up. Relaxing, she placed a hand on Clarke's shoulder, not noticing the subtle tensing of the younger girl's muscles. "Oh, Clarke, I understand. I haven't been around much lately, have I? I'm sorry, truly I am, but of course you can have Lexa if she keeps you happy."

Behind her, Clarke saw Lexa bite her lip to contain her mirth, green eyes sparking with amusement. In truth, she herself was having trouble not laughing outright, but she forced it down, instead smiling as gratefully as she could. "Oh, thank you so much, mother. I just knew you would understand, I mean you've been spending so much time with Chancellor Jaha, you must have been lonely too!" She threw her arms around Abby. "I didn't even think! I'm sorry!"

Lexa threw a hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking. Clarke saw the flash of white teeth as they bit into her own hand, trying to contain herself.

Abby patted Clarke gently on the back. "Oh, don't blame yourself sweetheart. It's been hard for both of us." The woman sounded slightly uncomfortable.

Clarke pulled back. "You're late for a meeting, aren't you. I'm sorry, I won't keep you. Will you be at dinner tonight?" She straightened the papers still in Abby's arms, glancing carelessly at them as she did. Several names and dates jumped out at her before she looked back up, and she made sure to commit them to memory.

Sheepishly, Abby shifted her weight. "Sorry, honey, but this meeting's probably going to run late."

"Oh, is everything all right?" Clarke made sure to sound concerned and not eager. She had to remind herself that no, hoping for border skirmishes was not something a proper noble daughter would do.

Her mother shook her head, waving the question off. "Just some administrative details, nothing to worry about."

Clarke felt her smile intensify, straining to the point where it hurt her to maintain. Her mother eyed her oddly for a moment before walking away, waving as she did so. "I'll try to be home later tonight. Bye!"

Waiting for Abby to turn the corner, Clarke felt her hands begin to shake. As soon as the other woman was out of sight, her smile collapsed and she fell back into her chair.

Lexa walked fully into the room, leaning on the table and watching her silently.

Clarke slumped, hands coming up to cradle her head. Her mother had lied. Lied straight to her face, not even considering telling her 'yes, something has happened but it's council business'. She could have respected her daughter as a person, a human being, not some little doll to coddle in the few minutes she was at home.

It was… infuriating. It was infuriating, being treated like a child all the time. Her mother acted as if she had no agency, no mind of her own to exercise. Her hands shook still, even as they supported her head.

She sighed, forcing herself to calm. This was not something she could control. All she could do was use it, turn that rage to ice and channel it through her veins. It would be the kindling that she stoked into a flame, and when she took the throne it would be that flame that blazed from her eyes and turned her enemies to ash.

She lowered her hands and raised her head, looking at Lexa. The woman met her gaze steadily. "You're with me?"

Green eyes narrowed. "To the death."

Clarke straightened her shoulders. "Then pull up a chair. You need to learn to fight properly, and to do that we need to find someone to train you."

Lexa frowned. "I was under the impression that Arcamian law prohibited slaves learning to fight. On pain of death. I will fight for you, but I would much prefer to survive this little adventure longer than a week." She raised an eyebrow. "And you really don't look like the kind of girl who has the kind of friends who would illegally train me."

Laughing, Clarke nodded. "It's true, I don't have those connections – yet. That's part of your job, you know. But in the meantime, I have a plan. A word of warning, though; it may be a little risky."

She told Lexa the plan.

It was insane.

Lexa rolled her eyes heavenward. The universe is laughing at me.

It had to be true. That was the only way she could have been saddled with this crazy girl who had stars in her smile and blood in the shine of her hair, who had wolf eyes and a silver tongue.

The universe was playing chess with her life and laughing as it watched.

Game on, then.