Warmth covered Clarke's face as she took a quick breath in. Morning air filled her lungs, a slight chill biting her. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she stretched out her arms. She was surprised when she felt that she had no clothes on. I don't remember sleeping naked, Clarke thought. Then again, yesterday is all a blur. Her memory wasn't the only thing that was a blur. The room around her was blurry, like a camera out of focus. Once again, she rubbed her eyes but no relief came. Rays of sunlight filled the room, showering the place with golden light. Soft humming provided a gentleness that seemed to dance on the wind.
An arm snaked around her, soft lips pressing against the base of her neck. Clarke let out a scream as she jumped up, taking the covers with her. "What the hell?" she blurted out. Turning around, two figures lay in the bed she just occupied, their faces cloudy and obscured. What the hell is going on here?
"Last night was amazing, Clarke."
No, Clarke thought, her heart racing. I know that voice. Her heart rate started jumping as she clutched her blankets closer, desperate for some protection. The face of the first person on the bed started to clear, and Clarke recognized Lexa. Her hair wasn't tied in any braids, just laying loose past her shoulders. Her eyes were brighter and more vibrant that she remembered, the green radiating in the sunlight. The Commander wore her signature face paint, though her face seemed much more relaxed and gentle. She's beautiful, Clarke thought. Almost like she's straight out of a drawing. A giggle from the second figure snapped her out of the moment and she realized Lexa wasn't talking to her.
"You were better."
Clarke's jaw dropped at the sound of her own voice. That isn't me, she thought frantically. She looked down at her hands, flipping them back and forth to see if they were real. Sure enough, they were there, but when she looked back up, she was looking at herself laying on that bed with Lexa. The two of them lay there, hugging and kissing without a care in the world. Clarke brought her fingers to her lips, almost feeling Lexa's each time the two on the bed kissed. A phantom of a different time, she tried to tell herself as she did her best to ignore the feelings. It feels so real, though.
"You make me happy, Lexa," the Clarke on the bed spoke. Her mirror image cuddled up into Lexa, the both of them unaware Clarke was standing there, watching. They're so carefree. Clarke felt a pang of jealousy. She couldn't see a trace of the struggles either of them had been through in the past. "You kept your promise to me. We have our peace, and I'm ready for this. Ready for you. I love you."
Clarke stumbled backwards as she watched the two kiss again, this time with so much passion she could feel it across the room. She felt the entire kiss, flush against her own lips like she was the one on the bed. The softness, warmth, joy she felt in that instant was too much. She collapsed backwards into a chair, water welling in her eyes. It was all so peaceful, so heavenly, so... perfect. But it's not, she realized. I'm dreaming. Even knowing that she was dreaming, she couldn't bring herself to avert her eyes. Lexa was too beautiful, too human in that moment to look anywhere else. It was a side of the woman that Clarke had seen glimpses of, but never fully. An insane sense of jealousy bubbled up within her, wishing she were the one on the bed. Instead, I'm the one dreaming it.
"Anything for you, Clarke," Lexa whispered, planting another kiss on the lips of Clarke's doppelganger. She embraced the other Clarke, wrapping her arms tightly around her in a protective hug. "You will not suffer anymore. I am yours and you are mine. Your needs are my needs, and nothing will change that. I love you too."
Clarke's heart broke, then and there, into a million pieces. She collapsed further into the chair, sobbing and bringing her legs up to her chest. How can something so perfect be fake? In her experience, real life couldn't be anything like this.
The radiating sunlight suddenly ceased, and a clear night sky replaced it. Gone was the warmth, replaced with a shivering cold. Clarke looked around and the walls of the room were now gone, replaced by a field of grass. Thousands of torches decorated the landscape, their keepers standing silent as they watched onwards. The smell of smoke and death filled the air, a putrid smell that threatened to cause her to vomit. Gone was the soft humming, replaced by bone chilling screams.
Clarke looked to the bed and saw her clone there, Lexa standing over her. Only now, Lexa was dressed in her battle armor, all softness gone from her face. Storm clouds began to form and pour down rain, and now Clarke knew exactly where she was. Looking up from the bed, they were outside the main door to Mount Weather. The world began to swim as Clarke tried to get up from her chair, but her legs refused to respond no matter how much she tried to run. Next, her arms and torso stopped responding, locking her in the direction of the bed. No, no, no! Clarke's mind raced, trying everything she could to get away. Her heart slammed against her chest as her neck finally locked in place, now unable to move her head.
She slammed her eyes shut as her last line of defense, doing anything to escape what was before her. Slowly, though, her eyelids lifted against her will, and she was forced to look at what was in front of her. Lexa had now brandished a sword, the metal glimmering in the flashes of lightning. The rain poured down violently, drenching Clarke and everything else around her. Time to wake up, time to wake up, time to wake up.
Lexa knelt down over the Clarke on the bed, cupping her face with her free hand. "I'm sorry for this, Clarke, but this is something that can't be avoided. My people need me, and I am theirs." Lexa placed a gentle kiss on top of the phantom's forehead and a gentle rub of the cheek.
Clarke felt sick to her stomach as her doppelganger only nodded. Fight, yell, scream at her. Do something! She watched as Lexa stood up once again, readying herself. "Do something! Do anything! Don't just let her betray you like this! She used you, lied to you! You deserve better!" She yelled as loud as she could, but the thunder in the background drowned out any noise she made.
Lexa positioned the sword over the heart of the Clarke on the bed and paused for only a moment. She looked over her shoulder, right at the real Clarke. Clarke's heart dropped to her stomach, and she watched Lexa smile softly at her. In the next instant, she turned back around and plunged the sword into her clone's heart. Clarke felt an explosion of pain and everything around her swam. The world around her began to fade as she heard screams surrounding her. The last thing she heard before all faded to black was Lexa whispering to her.
"May we meet again."
Clarke jolted awake, throwing off her blankets. Her chest heaved up and down, her breathing sporadic and ragged. It was a dream Clarke, calm down, she tried to tell herself. The room around her was still dark and the fresh scent in the air suggested it was early morning. Breathing in deep through her nose to calm herself, Clarke sat back onto the bed. It all felt so real. A small gust of wind blew through her room and she felt a chill on her cheeks. Clarke raised her hand to rub it off and in the moonlit room she saw her hand glistening with tears. At least that part happened.
Clarke pulled the covers around her as she sat staring at the faintly lit walls. All of my dreams have been about her lately. Every night since she left Camp Jaha Clarke had experienced nightmares, sometimes waking ones as well, in varying degrees of terror. Once Roan brought her to Polis, though, that all changed. Instead of the nightmares, all of her dreams were about the Commander. Some days it was Finn's execution, others were the betrayal at Mount Weather. Then there were the other dreams, the ones Clarke was really terrified of. In those, all of her anger was gone, and she had glimpses of what her life could have been. None had been that vivid though, and certainly not as long. When those dreams came, her whole world spun and she didn't know what to do. Do I want to kill the Commander, or do I... She couldn't bring herself to finish that last sentence, bits of anger bubbling up.
A murder of crows flew by her window, cawing and blending in with the dark morning sky. Clarke felt a now all too familiar chill in the air and left the bed to find its source. "Samael?" she called out, now actively seeking the man she once desperately wanted to be rid of.
"Hello, Clarke," Samael called out. Clarke spun to see him sitting nonchalantly on a chair near the corner of the room. He rose and took a couple of steps towards her. "It would appear that you've had quite the rough time. Your cheeks are all wet, and I can bet I know what made it so." Clarke watched him take a couple more steps until he suddenly stopped. Rays of moonlight were shining into the room and she could barely make out part of his form, half of him was bathed in white. "What's under the pillow, Clarke?"
"How do you-" Clarke didn't bother to finish the statement. Samael always seemed to know everything when she talked to him. His mood and motives are always changing, though. I can never understand him. She walked over to her bed and reached under her pillow, grasping at her knife hidden underneath it. "My knife," she said, holding it up to show Samael.
"You mean Lexa's knife?" Samael added. Clarke face scrunched up and he let out a soft laugh. "I know the name upsets you, but that doesn't make it any less her name." He ran his hand across the hilt and the blade and nodded. "Such a fine blade. You've carried it for a while, but did you ever ask yourself why she gave it to you?"
"To earn my trust," Clarke fired off immediately. She tossed the knife onto the bed in disgust and turned away. "It worked. I trusted her, and she betrayed me." I've had this conversation with him before, why are we doing it again? She let out an annoyed groan, leaning up against a nearby wall. This was her least favorite subject to talk about when Samael came.
"And why do you have the knife now?" He asked while looking at the knife on the bed. He moved to pick it up and walked towards her. "As I recall from a previous conversation, this was taken from you when you were brought to Polis."
He knows why. Samael always knew. There was only one reason for her to have that knife, anyone would know. "Because someone wants me to kill her," Clarke replied, standing up from the chair and moving to the window. She felt the cool breeze blowing across her face and she closed her eyes to try and calm herself.
"And do you?"
"I..." Clarke paused, unsure of her answer. If it had been before Polis, her answer would have been a resounding yes. She had been full of rage and bitterness pointed all at the Commander and she wanted nothing more than revenge. Since seeing her, and the dreams, she honestly didn't know what she wanted anymore. "I... really don't know. I thought I did, think I still do. I'm not as sure as when we first talked about it, back at the camp." She turned to Samael, who still appeared half illuminated in the moonlight, and looked at the knife in his hands. "You wanted her dead as much as I did. What do you think I should do?"
Samael was quiet for a good, long bit. He stood motionless, only staring down at the knife in his hands. Clarke thought he wasn't going to answer and started to turn out to look over the city when he finally spoke. "If you want my advice," he began, moving to the windows next to her. "I'd put the knife to her throat. After that, you'll know whether you want to push it in deeper or throw it away." He placed the knife gently in Clarke's hands and curled her fingers around the hilt. "Either way, it is your choice. Now, I must go, but I look forward to your decision. We'll speak again soon, I hope."
Clarke nodded and she watched him disappear into the darkness of the room. In the next instant, he was gone. Put the knife to her throat... she thought, staring down at the knife. I can't go on like this. The constant back and forth on whether to kill the Commander wore on her. She didn't want to feel this way anymore, she wanted to stop hurting. I'll take his advice, she decided, gripping her knife. One way or another, this will be over soon.
Lexa took her seat at the center of the clan leader's dais. All around her, people were still filing in from all directions. Word had gotten around of the duel and none wanted to miss it. Just what Nia wanted, Lexa thought, a scowl emerging on her face. She hated the way Nia played this so smoothly, giving her no choice but to go along with it. Her only solace had been in taking away Nia's son as her fighter. Roan had been easy enough to convince. Lexa knew the man could not stand to lose, and taking away his banishment from Polis was all it took. Nia couldn't have found someone nearly as good in that timeframe, she thought confidently.
She tried to drone out the roar of the crowd when Roan walked out to the arena. Several guards surrounded him as they escorted him. Since it was a fight to the first blood, the guards were there to ensure nobody took it too far. The Azgeda prince knelt down on the ground and brought his hands together in a prayer. Lexa's mood soured, as she knew the prayer well. It's normally a prayer before Azgeda go to war. It technically worked here, but it was in poor taste. This was no war and there would be no killing today.
Lexa looked out over the crowd and a streak of blonde caught her eyes in the front rows. Standing there, in a black hooded outfit, was Clarke. A smile briefly crept onto her face, but was wiped away in the next instant when she saw Clarke's expression. The sky girl was staring directly at her, Clarke's eyes deader than stone. If there was ever a look of death, Clarke was giving it to her right now. Time has not soothed her rage, Lexa thought sadly. It pained her to see the woman she cared about like this. That is was her doing worsened it. What can I do, Clarke? She wanted to walk up to the girl who had become Wanheda and ask her, but she knew that would not go over well. Clarke will tell me when the time comes. I can feel it.
The roars died down and the crowd began to part. Lexa took her eyes off Clarke and looked in that direction. Through the crowd she could barely make out the top of Nia's head. So she's shown up. Part of her desperately wanted Nia to just admit defeat and disappear back into the north like she had since the Coalition was formed. Unfortunately for her, she knew Nia too well to know that was a possibility. The Ice Queen finally reached the clan leader podium and Lexa rose from her seat. "Queen Nia," Lexa began, falling into her role as the Commander. "Name your champion so we can get this done."
Nia shot a quick, angered glance towards her son praying in the arena. The Ice Queen clenched her fist slightly, only to relax it a second later. "It look some work to find someone on such short notice," Nia said, turning back to Lexa. "Normally I would have turned to my son to represent the Azgeda. However, I do think I found someone to replace him." Nia turned to the crowd and waved her hand, and someone in a hooded robe walked forward into the arena. "I name Orion kom Azgeda my champion."
The crowd stirred as Orion removed his robe and walked to sit next to Roan. The prince looked at him with a sideways glance and Lexa knew there was bad blood between them. The guards may be needed afterall. It looked like the two men were already having a hushed argument between them. Good, Lexa thought. Hopefully it's more motivation for Roan. "Very well. You have named your champion, let us continue." Nia nodded gracefully as Lexa walked to the edge of the podium, flanked by two of her guards. She held her hands up to quiet the raving crowd, and seconds later silence filled the area. "We are here today to witness a duel of good faith," Lexa said, booming her voice for all to hear. "Queen Nia believes she was wronged when Clarke kom Skaikru was taken from her lands against the Queen's will by Skaikru. She accuses me of ordering the retreival." Lexa shot a quick glance back at Nia, who was sitting smugly in her chair next to the ambassador to the Shadow Valley clan. "The Ice Queen also broke a law by giving Clarke kom Skaikru sanctuary while there was a bounty out on her. No blood has been shed, so there will be no fight to the death."
Some in the crowd groaned in disapproval, but most stayed quiet. Blood and violence are all some of them want, Lexa thought. Sometimes she had to remind herself that, even though she wanted to put an end to jus drein jus daun. "Prince Roan of the Azgeda fights for Polis. Orion kom Azgeda fights for Queen Nia. This will be a fight until first blood is drawn. If Roan wins, there will be a large feast for all of you to enjoy!" That was met by a roar from the crowd. Feasts in Polis were always a huge deal and none of them would want to miss it. At least I have the crowd behind me, you bitch, she thought, glancing at Nia. "If Orion wins, a large supply of food will be provided to Azgeda to help them through the winter." This time, only those from Azgeda cheered while the others glared them down. Lexa cast a quick glance at Clarke and the girl still had not taken her eyes off of her.
Dismayed, she looked to Orion and Roan, who were now standing at opposite sides of the arena. Orion looked calm and almost like he was bored even being there, staring blankly at his opponent. Roan was an entirely different story. The prince was pacing back and forth, his face stone cold. He already has his muscles flexed and partly coiled, like a snake preparing to strike. Good, Lexa thought with a smile. He's motivated. She noticed the crowd growing impatient, cries of fight already starting and people waving their fists in the air. "Fighters, if you are ready, you may begin!"
Roan was the first one to attack, running forward with a roar. He opened with a few sweeping blows, aimed at various parts of Orion's body. Two of the strikes came obscenely close to ending the fight just as it began. Orion rolled to his left and sent a thrust towards Roan to get him to back off. He misjudged those attacks, Lexa observed. The two Azgedan men traded attacks, and each time the resonance of their swords coming together made the crowd roar more wildly.
Roan pressed his attack, sending a flurry of attacks out. Each one got closer and closer to connecting with Orion, and Lexa was on the edge of her seat. Just let one attack through, she prayed to the spirits of the Commanders before her. Just one, and this will be over. That part she wanted to believe, but knew better than to count Nia out over one defeat. Roan threw out an aggressive slash towards Orion, but greatly overstepped it and was thrown off balance. Orion parried instantly and nearly sliced open Roan's gut. The prince fell to the ground and rolled away, lurching back to his feet in the next moment.
The two men looked to be evenly matched as they went back and forth. She could tell, however, both were quickly tiring. Normally, these kinds of duels would play out slowly and methodical, with the winner capitalizing on a mistake. These two, however, were going at each other like they were on a battlefield. They both grunted as they took turns lunging, countering, spinning, and attacking again. The cheers from the crowds were almost drowning out the sounds of their swords clashing together. Sweat dripped heavily from both their brows and their sword hands struggled to maintain a tight grip. This will be over soon, one way or the other, Lexa thought. Even the mightiest warrior could only keep up a sustained fight for so long.
The two men separated a couple of strides and circled each other, breathing heavily. They went around a few times, each seeming to gather the strength for one final attack. Tension filled the air as the rest of the crowd began to feel it and the noise died down as all watched intently. Orion finally dropped to a knee, gasping for breath and Lexa gripped the edges of her seat. Roan charged in the next moment, running like a mad dog hunting his prey. Roan sent out a vicious down-cut to his left, and his nothing but air as Orion rolled out of the way at the last moment. Off-balance, the Azgedan prince went tumbling to the ground with a cry of pain.
The crowd fell silent as Orion stood over the fallen Azgedan prince. The man looked down to his blade, and Lexa saw defeat right then and there as she collapsed back into her chair. Roan lost. Nia won, she thought bitterly. Orion raised his bloodied sword into the air and all of the Azgedans roared with delight. She once more looked out into the crowd for Clarke, but this time the blonde woman was nowhere to be found. It seems I am destined to lose everything today.
Nia stood with her smug smile and waved to Lexa. "That was a very good fight," the Queen commented. "The people seemed extremely entertained. I think this was a fantastic idea. I will have men come by in two days to collect our prize." Nia gave a swift bow of the head, and in the next moment departed without another word.
The crowd began to disperse as the guards tended to Roan's wounds. Orion walked over and picked up his robe, glancing at Lexa as he did. There was a certain look on his face that she couldn't quite place, but he did not look happy about his victory. He almost looks... sad? Lexa shook her head. She was projecting her own feelings onto the man. He just won a major victory for his clan. Of course he is happy.
Soon after, everyone but herself had dispersed. Roan had been carried off back to his cell to receive medical attention, though she planned on visiting him after. He fought much better than I expected, she thought. The only disappointment for her was the actual outcome of the fight. She would find a way to award the prince, he did everything she asked. Now, sitting alone, her only question was what would come next. She knew this was far from over, and was only Nia's opening move. Whatever it was, Lexa would have to be ready. That is the duty of a Heda.