A/N: Hey all, sorry for the long wait between chapters. I really have no excuses. I've known for a while what is going to happen for the ending. It was only recently that I worked out the how of it, and even more recently where I got past my writers block. We're building up to the finale. All I ask is that you continue to trust me. I reckon there will be two to four more chapters, depending on what my muse decides needs written. Hang in there, we're almost done! Thanks to all of you who have continued to support this story, it means a lot to me. With that, enjoy!
"Who the hell knows if it hit the right spot or if that Lexi or whoever died. I hope it did, and blew her and that army to hell and back. Less opposition for us. We'll know soon enough, I guess. If anyone back at camp asks, this was a training exercise to see how much control we have over the missile defense system."
Pike's voice rang through the radio, piercing the silence that filled the room Clark and her friends occupied. Nothing came to Clarke. No sobs, no angry outburst, not even a single flinch from her. She felt her face chill from the air brushing against the trail of tears on her cheeks. It didn't matter to her. In one, single, agonizing moment she had finally figured out what she wanted. She also learned the lesson that it only takes one moment to rip someone apart.
The more she thought on it, the further her heart sank. It didn't matter what Pike said on the radio. She knew that Lexa was dead, and their only chance at having lasting peace with her. Losing Finn had hurt her deeply, but she had time to accept it. There was no saving him. This, however, cut her to the bone. Did her hatred and willingness to kill Lexa contribute to her death? She had told the Grounders to stop calling her Wanheda after she found out what it meant. Perhaps they were right.
"Clarke?" A gentle hand placed itself on her shoulders. She didn't have to turn to see who it was. "Honey, you're shaking," her mom stated, moving around to face her.
Clarke snapped out of her daze and looked down at her trembling hands, white knuckled and digging into her thighs. Slowly, she eased off the tension in her hands. Pike wasn't to blame for this. She knew damned well who gave him the order. After all, it shouldn't have come to a surprise to her. Nia wanted Clarke to be Plan A.
"We should all get back to Arkadia," Abby said, gently giving Clarke's shoulder a squeeze. "My cover for checkups won't last long and I'm sure everyone back home is worried."
Clarke tore from her mother's grasp and rose to her feet. "I am not going back there," she said vehemently. The mere thought made her hands clench and heart rate elevate. No, going back wouldn't bring her any peace. She knew exactly where she needed to go.
"Clarke, we understand," Monte said, easing closer to her. "You're going through a lot right now, and you just got back. You don't need to leave."
Clarke shook her head. She doubted any of them really understood what she went through. What she's still going through. "I can't stay, Monte." Everyone in the room had faced their own trials, but in her eyes nothing came close to what she had dealt with.
"Clarke you just got here," Abby pleaded. "If you leave now, when will I see you again? I spent months worrying whether you were alive or dead. Then we found out you were in Azgeda territory." Her mother moved to stand right in front of her, both hands resting on her shoulders. "People risked their lives to get you back, only for you to be taken somewhere else. You finally get back to us, and want to leave to do god knows what."
"I know what she wants," Lincoln chimed in. Clarke turned her head and could see the understanding in his eyes. He wanted the same thing. Revenge. "I'll go with her, keep her safe."
"We both will," Octavia chimed in, walking up next to Lincoln. Clarke couldn't complain. Octavia had become more of a Grounder than any of them. They were her family now. No doubts entered Clarke's mind that she was suffering too.
She nodded to both of them. Anger and grief flowed through her, but even through all of that she knew that allies only made her job easier. If she ever needed to ditch them later, she could. "Thank you, both of you," she whispered softly. She didn't need to ask if they knew what was going to happen when they reached Polis. Their eyes said they were ready to die for this.
"Clarke, please..." Abby pleaded. "You are all I have left in this world. Your father wouldn't want this for you."
The pain in her mother's voice tore at her heart. Almost enough for her to stay. However, while her friends and family scratched at the surface, Lexa's death ripped her to shreds. There was no way she wasn't leaving. "I'm sorry, Mom. I have to do this." Somewhere deep down she felt her mother was wrong as well. Her father would want her to stand up for something she believed and cared about. It's how he died as well. "I love you," she said, cupping her mother's face. "We will meet again." She hoped the gesture would ease her mother's concerns. Keeping that promise, though, was something Clarke wasn't sure she could keep.
"We're holding you to that, Clarke," Bellamy said, standing in the corner. The rest of the group inside nodded in agreement. "We've lost so many people already getting to this point. Don't add your name to that list. Or theirs."
"I'll look out for them," Clarke promised. She knew it would end up being the other way around, but Bellamy needed to hear those words. "Like it or not, we all need to get moving. Keeping our people safe and creating peace is what we need right now. Stop Pike, and I'll handle the Grounders. Maybe then... we'll finally have a chance for a life." Clarke barely tried to keep the despondence in her voice hidden. She was tired. Hopefully this would be the last fight she had to do. There wasn't much left in her beyond that.
The others nodded in agreement and gathered up their stuff. Her mother and Monte were the first to leave, and Clarke could feel the disapproval as her mother stormed out. Kane and Bellamy were the next to leave. Bellamy turned right before leaving and mouthed 'may we meet again' before rounding the corner out of sight.
Raven was the final one to leave. She walked towards the door gingerly, pausing a moment at the opening, her hand resting on the wall beside it. "Clarke..." she said. "Come back in one piece... or don't come back at all. She may still be out there, or she may still be gone. Just... if you're going to be a repeat of Finn, don't come back." Clarke could hear a small sniffle coming from Raven and knew her friend was crying. "We don't need to see that happen. Not to you." With that, her friend rounded the corner and was gone.
"Understood," Clarke whispered to herself. Octavia and Lincoln stared at her indignantly, like she had just been insulted. In truth, it was the opposite. Raven had given her some small hope, and also let her know it would be okay if she never came back at the same time. Come back as yourself, or not at all. She turned to Lincoln and Octavia, suppresing tears she could feel boiling up. "You know what we're doing. Pike may have pulled the trigger, but Nia pointed the gun. I'm still not familiar with your ways, Lincoln, but I know enough that what she did was not okay. I'm going to kill her, with my bare hands if I can. This is your last chance to back out." Lincoln stood solemnly, while Octavia looked like Clarke had personally offended her by offering a way out. "Good, then let's get out of this pit of death and kill that god damned Queen."
Cold rain soaked through her clothes as Clarke trotted along atop her horse. Lincoln and Octavia were up front leading the way. Judging by the time of day, she knew they would stop soon. Riding through the night would only make her tired and sloppy. No matter how badly she wanted to end Nia, being reckless was not the way to go. To make matters more complicated, she had no idea where exactly Nia would be. Her gut told her she was sitting smugly in her castle, reveling in her victory. Or perhaps that was her heart begging for a direction to go.
Movement up in front of her brought Clarke back to attention. Lincoln and Octavia were dismounting their horses. She strolled up beside them and slid down off of her own horse. The area looked instantly familiar. Lincoln's cave, she thought.
"We stop here for the night," Lincoln said, descending down into the small cave below. Small flickers of light shone through the crevices and Clarke made her way down as well. When she entered the main room, Lincoln was already sitting. "Where are we going, Clarke?" There was a sternness in his voice that was not there before. His expression was blank as he sat awaiting a response.
"To be honest, I'm only guessing here," Clarke admitted. She hadn't thought her plan through that far. All that mattered to her was finding Nia by any means. What came after that was already figured out the instant she heard that missile launched. "Our best bet is to head into Azgeda territory, back to her castle. You were able to sneak in there to rescue me once before. We can do it again to kill her."
"That wasn't easy to do, Clarke," Octavia chimed in, taking her place by Lincoln's side. "It wasn't just an easy stroll through the woods. We killed several guards on the way in, and were nearly caught several times. If the Heda is truly dead, its going to be even harder than before."
"Harper also lost her hand," Lincoln commented. Clarke cringed as she remembered the screams from the girl directly after. Lincoln grabbed a nearby rucksack and pulled out a piece of parchment. He carefully unfolded it, then laid it on the ground. By the crude markings and lines, Clarke could tell it was a map, though none like she had seen before. "If we're going to do this, we must be smart. Nia is out for blood now. We won't make it out if we are caught."
Clarke nodded, kneeling down to look at the map. "Okay, you know the land best. How do we get to her?" The mere thought of crossing Azgeda territory again made her blood boil. If she hadn't been so caught up in her hatred and self loathing, she could have seen all this coming and stopped it.
Lincoln reached out a hand and pointed to a long, jagged line near the top of the map. "That is the border for Azgeda territory. We go there, scout as much as we can, then use that information to not get ourselves killed." The Grounder rose up from his seat and walked over to the far corner of the room and rummaged around the stuff that lay sitting there. After a few moments, he held up a long fur blanket in his hands. "I don't have any mattresses for you, but this should keep you warm tonight. Get some sleep, we have a long journey ahead of us."
Clarke nodded, taking the blanket from Lincoln. The material was surprisingly soft to the touch, almost gliding through her fingers. It was better than any blanket she had ever owned hands down. She stood up and wrapped herself in the furs and sat back down, eyes glued to the map. I am coming for you, Nia, she swore to herself. By whatever gods you believe in, I will live up to the name your people gave me. She wondered if Nia even had an inkling that Wanheda would be coming after her. It didn't matter, in the end. When the time came, she would plunge Lexa's sword through Nia's heart, or die trying. Comforted by the smoldering rage built up inside her, waiting to be released, Clarke lowered her head to the stone floor. Sleep came quick and sudden, and before long Clarke passed out, the calm pattering of the rain washing the day away.
The afternoon sun blazed overhead, beating down on Clarke as she trotted along on her horses. Leaving at the crack of dawn allowed them to get close to Azgeda territory with several hours of daylight left. She could feel her horses exhaustion from the strain. They couldn't be too far now, she figured. Maybe another hour at their current pace. You'll be able to rest then, she thought, rubbing a hand gently on the horses neck.
Clarke noticed a white flash up above her and snapped her focus in that direction. Flying high above them was a white bird rapidly cutting its way through the air. It was a peaceful break from all the crows she had been seeing. "Lincoln, Octavia, you seeing this?" Clarke asked. The bird was almost out of sight, just a faint speck of white in a cloudless sky.
"A messenger bird," Lincoln said, keeping his eyes forward. "Heading to Polis. The Azgeda use them frequently."
"We're close," Octavia said, getting his meaning. Clarke could see the rigidity in Octavia's body. She portrayed the strong warrior, but in reality she was not the seasoned fighter that Lincoln was. He sat atop his horse calm and stoic, eyes always scanning the horizon.
Clarke contemplated making a comment about shooting it down. Whatever messages coming of out this area couldn't be good. She again looked in the direction of the bird, who now was completely out of sight. Next one, Clarke thought to herself. For now, the birds would soar free.
Lincoln all the sudden yanked up on his reigns and nearly dove off of his horse, landing awkwardly on the ground. He sank down into a crouch and guided his horse behind a nearby tree. "Movement," he whispered.
Clarke and Octavia soon followed his lead, dismounting quickly and guiding their horses out of sight. Clarke scanned in the direction Lincoln was facing but nothing showed up. Perhaps he had seen some branches blown by the wind. No, she thought. Lincoln had been trained his whole life to be a warrior and blend in with the wilderness. A simple branch would not send him into alert. "What do you see?" she whispered back.
Octavia reached over and slapped her shoulder. Clarke looked up and saw Octavia holding one finger over her lips, the other pointing to her ear. Shut up and listen.
At first, Clarke didn't hear anything besides the rustling of leaves in the wind. Her eyes darted in every direction. Why couldn't she see what the others so clearly could? Both of them were very tense at this point, and she got a trembling in her stomach. A spec of dark grey flashed far away through the trees. Then, she finally saw. An army off in the distance. An Azgedan army by the looks of it. "Fuck," Clarke whispered.
"This is bad, Lincoln," Octavia stated. "If I had to bet, Nia is right there." Octavia pointed her finger straight into the heart of the army marching by. "There's no way that we can get to her. We need to get out of here, before they see us."
"Agreed," Lincoln said, tightening the grip on his horses reigns. From best they could tell at their location, the army was quite massive. Several carts were being pulled by them as well. Most likely supplies for the battle to come. One in particular had several blankets and quilts hanging off the side of it. These guys are prepared for everything. It was hard to tell from the distance, but the soldiers' uniforms looked rather ragged and damaged. They all seemed to be covered in black scorch marks and have several rips in them. Perhaps the missile hit both armies, and they managed to make it out.
Clarke watched Lincoln look at the army, then at the direction they were marching, and back at the army. Leaves then sprang up as he punched the ground beneath him. "They're marching on Polis," he said with grave realization. "Nia is going to take the Coalition by force." Lincoln began walking backwards, slowly taking his horse with him. "We leave right now. The civilians won't know what is coming."
Clarke followed with Octavia behind her. She attempted to keep as low as possible, but horses walking through the forest could only be hidden so much. Looking at the army passing by in the distance, she couldn't help but feel defeated again. If Lexa and her army were truly dead, she doubted they had enough numbers to stop the Azgeda from taking whatever they wanted. Guns wouldn't matter against sheer numbers.
After they were a safe distance away, Lincoln signaled for them to mount horses. "We can move faster than an army," he said, not wasting time as he began to trot off. "There are some shortcuts we can take. Maybe enough time to get word to Polis of what is coming and prepare some defenses." Clarke could hear the lack of hope in his words. They all knew against that army they would only be buying time for civilians to be evacuated.
"Guys, look," Octavia said, pointing to smoke off in the distance. Red smoke.
"The Heda... is dead," Lincoln said solemnly, bringing his horse to a stop. "The messenger bird. It must have had news of her death on it."
Clarke's heart sank. Some small part of her had held out hope that Lexa would still be alive. Now, she was truly gone. It only angered her further. "I am going to kill that bitch," Clarke said, seething. She didn't care if the other two were listening. Looking off into the distance, the army seemed to have stopped moving momentarily too, even for just a moment. Suddenly, a blaring horn sounded out through the air. That has to be miles away, Clarke thought. "Lincoln, what was that?"
"Polis," he replied. His voice was shaking. The horn sounded off again and Lincoln kicked at the side of his horses heels. The animal bolted and sped off in the direction of the smoke. "Lincoln, wait!" she called out in unison with Octavia, who was hot on his heels. Clarke gave a shake of the reigns and a genle kick and her horse spurred up to speed. The army also seemed to be moving again, though faster than before. It seemed to be a race to Polis.
Eventually she was able to pull up along side of Lincoln. The speed of the horse was bouncing her around slightly, but she ignored it and tensed up her thigh muscles to stay in place. "Lincoln, what is going on?!" she shouted out.
"The attack!" Lincoln exclaimed, not even turning to face her. "Polis is under siege!" Clarke's blood chilled slightly. All of those civilians, merchants, and cooks in the streets. They wouldn't stand a change against an army.
Clarke looked in the direction of Polis. Black smoke now joined the red. Polis was burning. Others will see it, she assured herself. Those that may not have been in the army Lexa took with her to kill Nia. There was a small reserve of warriors still there. Perhaps they could hold on long enough. The three of them wouldn't count for much, but none of them were going to let this go easily. Lexa would have fought to save Polis to the death. She intended to do the same. And so they rode on, praying that Polis' forces could hold out, just for a while longer. Everyone would be a soldier this night.