As expected, the homecoming is a busy affair. The rumor mill in Polis seems to have been working in full swing as people line the streets. They crowd from all sides, curious to catch a glimpse of the awesome sight—and it is a spectacular image. All thirteen nations parade together through the city streets; the thunder of each army's footfalls gives away the clans' arrival before they even reach the gates.
The giant army easily stretches several miles long in the narrow streets and banners of all different designs and colors can be seen mingling together from high up in the towers above. From high above Polis, even Lexa watches the scene with interest from the window of her throne room high atop the palace. Everyone in the city understands the gravity of this event. Not since the first commander have the clans joined together in the same place like this. Some are not even old enough to know that it's ever happened before. She's making a bold politically statement and it must not be squandered.
Clarke senses a pair of eyes on her from where she sits within the formation. Her own flit up to the palace tower and she just makes out the gaping hole in the top where Lexa's throne room is. It seems small from down on the ground.
"Hell of a crowd, isn't it, Wanheda?"
Clarke spooks slightly and finds King Roan riding on her right flank with that sly grin perched on his face. She wonders how and when he managed to nudge through such a tightly packed convoy.
"Makes me wonder what Heda's got up her sleeve this time."
"Oh, you know." Clarke shrugs with a smile. "She's a woman of many talents."
"I'm sure." Roan snorts, shaking his head with amusement as Clarke reddens beside him.
The massive formation branches off on reaching the palace. Those among the ranks of Skaikru break away and continue toward the tower gates while the rest of the clans break away in separate directions to make their bivouacs just outside the city.
The whole of Skaikru's loyal have been granted quarters in the palace, though many within the clans suspect that Heda has hidden motives for such a choice. Keep your enemies closer, as the saying goes. And they aren't entirely wrong. Skaikru will be under careful watch, but not for the reasons assumed.
It's another two hours before all of her people have been shown to their quarters and all prisoners locked away in cells. After a lengthy discussion with Kane, Clarke breaks away from her people for the first time in five days and heads to the top of the tower. The guards move aside as she enters the throne room in search of one person in particular; it's a surprise when the first familiar face she sees is that of her mother.
Clarke watches from the doorway for a moment, perplexed at the scene before her. The nightbloods are gathered in a semi-circle around the healer and she speaks to them in Gonasleng about the virtues of advanced medicine. Clarke's eyes scan the room for Lexa; if the natblida are present, their mentor can't be far away. She spots the leader gazing out of her balcony, but still listening intently. Her posture is rigid with alertness and her head is perked up at the top of her spine.
Clarke's feet seem to move her body into the room of their own accord as she seeks to be closer. She'd gone without her for five days and suddenly any distance is far too much. She momentarily forgets her mother in her tunnel vision until she hears her name on the older woman's lips and finds herself being hugged tightly while the nightbloods look on.
Abby assesses her daughter for any signs of outward injury. She knows that there had been no shots fired—that the coup against Pike had been a bloodless victory—but she can't help the instinct that compels her to make sure that Clarke is as safe as she seems. She'd heard the standoff from over the radio; right here in this very throne room. The intensity of it hadn't left her even after they heard the calls for Pike's removal.
There's so much she wants to say, but all she can seem to process is her daughter here, safe, standing in front of her.
Clarke seems to understand and reaches out to hug her mother one more time.
"I'm fine, mom." She smiles and takes a step back. "You should go see Kane."
Abby agrees, leaving Clarke with a motherly pat on her arm as she heads for the door. Clarke turns expecting to see the nightbloods, but is instead met with a throne room that is empty of everyone but herself and Lexa. She arches a cheeky, questioning eyebrow at the woman in front of her even as her feet betray her again and she steps into a pair of waiting arms. Suddenly, in this secure warmth, the past few days seem more like several eternities as the pair stands thoroughly intertwined in the middle of the throne room. The weight they both feel lifting from their shoulders is enormous, and even though there is still much to come, they've passed a giant hurdle.
Clarke breathes Lexa in; noses into her hair. She feels Lexa do the same and god it feels so good to be here…to be home. Lexa feels much stronger than the last time Clarke held her and the blonde is thankful for that. It seems the combined efforts of her mother and that mysterious implant have seen to a speedy recovery back to full health.
They pull back, leaning against eachothers' foreheads for several long moments, basking in the contentedness of the moment. They feel the comfort of simply being with each other again and soak it up while they can.
Reluctantly, Clarke pulls away, carefully taking in Lexa's visage. And there it is again, Lexa notes, that hint of amusement.
"Last I checked, my mom wasn't exactly your biggest fan, now she's teaching the nightbloods?" Clarke's smirk stretches into an even wider grin at the idea of the two women becoming something like buddies in her absence. "How did you do that?"
Lexa chuckles softly. "I did nothing. Much like you, it seems your mother warmed to me considerably after a few days of exposure to Polis."
"Yeah, she likes you so much she's teaching you're students." Clarke teases, "Careful Heda, you may find her sitting in your throne soon."
Lexa's face registers amusement at Clarke's teasing jabs, yet her words are a bit more serious as she offers a nonchalant reply. "Actually, I believe your mother is more taken with aiding the healers. If anyone has cause to worry, it is them."
Clarke's expression suddenly grows serious and she thinks back to Lexa's war summit, and the other things that Lexa fell just short of allowing her to be burdened with before she ventured for Arkadia.
"Do we have cause to worry?" She wonders out loud and is answered swiftly with a confident shake of the head and a smirk. "No. At least…not just yet. The ambassadors were satisfied with the coup, though they still demand blood."
Clarke is taken aback at the news for a moment, though she can't say she's surprised. One man hardly seems like justice for the Grounder lives taken. Still, she can't help the twinge of panic that settles in her stomach at the ominous news and her voice wavers as she asks "So…what will happen to Skaikru?"
"As I promised you, your people are safe." Lexa grips Clarke's hands in her own in a reassuring manner. "Each of those loyal to your deposed chancellor will pay in blood, but only Pike himself will pay with his life."
Clarke's eyebrows shoot up at the words. How on Earth did they agree to that? "Lexa…"She trails, shaking her head "the ambassadors couldn't have agreed to that."
"They didn't at first." Lexa nods in concession "But they came around after hearing how ardently your people spoke against Pike once you were able to rally them."
The pair is interrupted by the sound of the door to the throne room creaking open and two pairs of eyes follow the noise to see Titus as he stands stoically in the doorway.
"Speak."
With his Heda's acknowledgement, Titus advances into the room, offering Clarke a curt nod and addressing her with her title before he bows his head to Lexa.
"Heda, Skaikru have been settled into guest quarters and the servants have seen to them. The prisoners are locked away in the dungeons as we speak. May I make the arrangements for the ceremony?"
"Yes." Lexa assents firmly. "Tell the clans we will gather the dawn after next."
"Sha, Heda." Titus bows at the waist. "Will that be all?"
Clarke is quick to whisper a few words into Lexa's ear and she leans closer, taking in each syllable carefully before she gives her full attention back to her advisor.
"See to it that Pike's sleep is disturbed at regular intervals." Her jaw is set in a way that suggests she doesn't exactly approve of what she's just ordered, but she will not deny Skaikru, Kane, and Clarke that satisfaction either if it's what is wished for.
Titus takes his leave and Lexa forces her jaw to relax, determined not to let politics spoil the evening of Clarke's return. Though the thirteen clans gather here in Polis, tonight there will be time for just them—Clarke and Lexa. Tonight she will allow them a piece of time away from their duties. Lexa turns to Clarke and slips her hand into the blond's from where they brush near each other.
"You've seen the rising and the setting of the sun from your Ark in the sky, but have you ever seen the sun give way to the moon from the top of the world?"
As it turns out, the "top of the world" is the top of the palace tower. Lexa guides Clarke down the hall from the throne room and up an intricately designed structure of staircases leading further up still from the top floor where Lexa's throne room is housed. Lexa moves in front of Clarke as they reach the top and reaches along the ceiling for some unknown thing. She finds it after a few moments and pushes a hatch open to bathe them in the light of dusk.
A couple of quick moves later and they both stand at the highest point in Polis.
Clarke's mouth stands agape at the sight. There is a clear line of sight for miles in any direction. It's certainly the best vantage point in the city, but not the most practical for strategic purposes given its somewhat tedious accessibility. Still, the view is incredible; from this spot, they can see clear into the surrounding trikru and sand nation territories. To the east lies Arkadia, though it is beyond the range of sight.
Clarke is also awestruck by the enormity of the eternal flame that burns just above their heads. From the ground it seems like a mere spark, but up here standing at its base, she feels the power of the inferno at her back. The winds it creates tug lightly at her loose hair.
She finds Lexa staring out in silent reflection over everything that is hers…all that she commands. The fires from the clans surrounding Polis are just beginning to pop up in the grassy landscape. Clarke knows it's a heavy weight Lexa carries to attempt to unite the clans in peace instead of war, but that's a problem for another day. Tonight they have come here for a different reason.
She leans her chin on Lexa's shoulder and follows her gaze to the ground below, where the city is still thriving with activity underneath them.
Clarke smiles, "You know, as interesting as Polis is, it's no sunset."
Lexa melts into Clarke in response, allowing her eyes to drift up to the horizon and her mind to drift away from the task at hand. The view is a spattering of pink, yellow, and orange colors across the sky and their fire matches the one that blazes at her back. The commander has no choice to agree.
Polis is no sunset.
Then again, she's fairly certain that Clarke's own beauty rivals the image she's looking at right now and if she had to choose between them she would happily live in a world without sunlight if it meant opening her eyes to the features of Clarke's face every day.
It's only after Clarke cocks her head to one side in a confused manner that Lexa realizes she's been staring, and she stares even longer as that mouth breaks into the grin she enjoys so much.
"I thought we came up here to see a sunset." Clarke speaks lowly, voice dripping with the suspicion—accusation, really—that Lexa may have had an ulterior motive. And she's not wrong.
"We did." The commander nods, subtly inching further into the other woman's personal space than she already is. "I decided that you were more captivating."
The retort dies on Clarke's lips as quickly as it comes as Lexa closes the space between them, her hand tenderly cradling Clarke's face just as it did those months ago during their first kiss. Together, they build their own flame here atop the tower and it burns away in effort to rival the one that burns above them. The light of the setting sun fades into darkness, forgotten.
Dinner the next evening is a noisy event. Sure, it's just an informal meal with Kane and Abby, but the wine flows freely and everyone seems in good spirits. Kane's laugh echoes loudly through the candle lit dining hall despite the bruising he still suffers. In many ways, it feels a bit to Clarke as if this is a 'bring your girlfriend home to your parents' kind of dinner.
Most of the stories being told around the table seem to revolve around her in some form or another Lexa just takes each one in with a keen interest, offering the occasional comment or supplementary anecdote.
"Yeah," Kane laughs as the end of yet another story comes. "You've always been a fiery one."
Lexa's brow raises from where she sits at the head of the table. It's yet another term she's unfamiliar with, but the context of Kane's statement tells her he is alluding to the personality that Wanheda is notorious for. A wry smirk crosses her face as one particular memory comes to the surface.
"You know, when I first had Clarke brought to Polis, she actually dared to spit on me."
"You did not!" Abby fixes Clarke with an incredulous, wide-eyed stare while Kane all but chokes on his wine.
The blond offers no answer, finding herself at a loss for anything to say to that. Instead, she opts for gazing into her stew as she twirls her spoon around its depths.
"She did." Lexa answers "And later she suggest I 'float myself'. I still haven't worked out what that means and Clarke refuses to answer."
"Clarke!" Abby shoots a disapproving, scandalized glance. Her daughter merely offers a shrug before drinking deeply from her wine glass. "What? It's better than telling her to go fuck herself. She didn't even understand what I meant." Clarke lets out a tipsy snort as she takes another sip.
"I assume it may have something to do with your practice of execution to preserve oxygen while your people were still in space."
Clarke and Marcus both shoot surprised glances at the Commander, prompting an explanation as to how she came by that information and she tilts her head nonchalantly. "Your mother told me."
"In fact," Lexa goes on "there is a similar grounder sentiment which alludes to our own execution ritual."
"Really?" Marcus asks, curious.
Lexa nods, turning her attention to Clarke as a smile spreads across her face. "Maybe you might hear it if you should ever aggravate me as much as I have you."
"Shof op."
Lexa gives a smile that looks uncharacteristically impish before her eyes fall on Kane's bruised features and her attention is redirected.
"How are your wounds, Marcus?"
"Healing well." He answers before taking a bite of beef from his fork. Swallowing, he asks "Yours?"
"Healed entirely." Immediately, Lexa feels the intensity of the sharp, disapproving gaze Abby and Clarke both shoot her way and she swiftly amends herself. "…mostly."
"I'm just grateful to have such skilled healers." She gives a nod and raises her glass to the two Griffin women. Both of them catch the subtle glint of understanding that passes across her eyes.
No one outside this room must know of the true nature of the spirit that resides within her.
Later that evening, when all is quiet and not even the palace mice roam the halls, a shadowy figure sneaks past the guards. The figure moves carefully through the corridors, weaving in and out of moonlight on the way to the dungeons. It waits for the shift change to sneak into the darkness where a number of prisoners reside in addition to the newly acquired Skaikru traitors. The cloaked shadow bypasses a carefully sealed steel door that covers Pike's own personal cell and heads in search of one familiar person.
She finally steps into a beam of moonlight at Bellamy's crouched form and he looks up into the eyes of his sister. She's the last person he wants to see right now. He knows he's done wrong and he'll surely die for it in the morning. She can save her guilt.
"What are you doing here?" He snaps, peering up at her with reddened eyes. She looks right back down at him, unimpressed. "You know you're probably gonna die in a few hours."
"And?" Bellamy asks through gritted teeth. He could've done without that reminder.
"And I just wanna know if you get it….like, really get it."
Confusion registers on Bellamy's face as he continues to look up at his sister. "Get what?" Octavia lets out a long huff and throws her hands up in exasperation. Her eyes land on him and cut through him sharply as she bears down.
"Don't be stupid, Bellamy. You helped murder three hundred people and you helped spare some of the wounded. You knew you were doing the wrong thing but you did nothing to stop that until Pike asked you to kill me. Do you get that he used you; manipulated you…used your anger?"
Octavia fumes, pacing back and forth in front of the bars as she speaks until she finally comes to a stop with her arms crossed in front of her chest as if she's silently demanding an explanation from him.
"Of course I get it!" Bellamy snaps, leaping up from the ground to grab at the bars with surprising agility. "I was betrayed—twice—and people died because of it."
Octavia rolls her eyes at her brother. If the circumstances were a bit different, she might've been more sympathetic toward Bellamy's feelings. However, those feelings are rooted deep inside a wound shared by all of the Sky People.
"Give me a break, Bell." She scoffs. "That's a weak excuse and you know it. We all suffered at Mt. Weather and we were all betrayed. You wouldn't have been betrayed by Pike if you weren't too busy moping about a girl you barely knew to see sense."
Bellamy reels back into the cell as if he's been slapped as her words hit him like the impact of a drop ship landing. The silence stretches between them for several moments and he opens his mouth several times in an effort to retort, but no words come to him. He knows she's right. Instead, he lets out a sigh as he sinks back to the floor and repeats his earlier question.
"Why are you here?" He pleads.
Octavia is about to answer when the sound of a door opening from somewhere else in the dungeons catches her attention. She's run out of time and she has to leave, even if she hasn't figured out all she needs to know. Bellamy implores her to answer once again as she backs away from his cell and she offers a quick head shake, meeting his broken expression with her own conflicted gaze.
"I just wanted to know if there's anything left of the man I used to call my brother."
She's out the door before he can question her further and that parting statement keeps him awake for the rest of the night, rolling around in his mind and clinging to every thought. He finds it's a question he can't answer. He thought he was doing the right thing, but all along he was doing more harm to his people…people he'd only sought to help even when he was shedding grounder blood. At least, that had been the intent.
Turns out, he doesn't really know himself and the thought leaves him terrified.
Hey guys! Sorry for the late update, I just got moved to a new place. Anyway, hope yall enjoy!