Clarke

Hesitantly, Clarke stood outside the tent that Eema had allotted to them and cleared her throat, wishing there was some other way to announce her presence. "It's me," she called out, hearing the uncertainty in her own voice.

"It's okay," Bellamy responded, and Clarke stepped inside. He was sitting on the edge of one of the beds, and he looked like he'd just been deep in thought, but he gave her a soft smile as he met her eyes. "Did Octavia find you?"

"Yeah," she answered, blushing a little. "She said I'm not allowed to mess with your head, and if I break your heart again then she's going to destroy me."

He let out a laugh, loud and genuine, and the sound was a shock to both of them. Bellamy patted the spot next to him and Clarke went over and sat beside him. They inclined their knees toward each other and she looked into his eyes, surprised yet again at how she always found that brown gaze so calming. But there was something underneath the tenderness in his eyes as he looked at her this time.

"What's wrong?" she asked cautiously, not sure if she wanted to know.

"Did Octavia tell you Lia promised to protect us and take us safely back to Camp Jaha?" he asked her.

Clarke hadn't been expecting that. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise and she felt her heart quicken a little in excitement. "No," she said. "When did she say that?"

"Just now- she came here after you left. Slipped out from under the noses of her guards, lost the cuffs, and just walked into the tent." He chuckled a little. "That kid has spirit." He grew suddenly serious again and let out a long breath. "She told us why, too… there was a boy she was close to, someone who was like a brother to her. Me and O, we remind her of the two of them."

It made sense; Lia had been drawn to the Blakes since before Clarke even met her, and she'd seen firsthand just how much Bellamy and Octavia seemed to captivate the girl, not alone but as a pair. "Where is he now?" she asked.

"Lia killed him," he answered with a noticeable cringe. "Because they told her to… five years ago."

"Five years?" Clarke repeated, totally appalled.

"Yeah," he answered with a nod, gritting his teeth. "How old do you think she is? Twelve? Thirteen, maybe?"

"That's what I would have guessed, but it can't be true," Clarke protested. "That would have made her-"

"Seven," he finished for her. "Seven or eight when she killed a boy who helped raise her… who she loved. That would mess anybody up."

She could hear the raw empathy in his voice and gently she said, "Bellamy… she's still dangerous."

"No, that's the thing- I don't think she is," he answered. "She's always been totally honest with us, Clarke. If she says you're going to die, you die. If she says she's going to torture you, she does. And if she says she's going to protect us…"

"Then we should believe her," she said, finishing his sentence, nodding her head. "What does Octavia think?"

"Octavia hates her," he said softly, his eyes falling to the floor. "Of course she hates her."

Clarke let that hang in the air for the moment- Octavia's feelings, Bellamy's feelings, Bellamy's guilt over Octavia's feelings. Then she asked, "So what happens after we get to Camp Jaha? Does she just leave? We're going home to talk to my mom and the rest of the Council about whether to go to war against the Ice Nation. Is she just going to stand by and let us do that? What if they vote yes? What if she leaves and goes straight to Elody, warns her about what's coming?"

Bellamy hesitated and then said, "I don't know. She said she'd protect us and see us safely to the gates, but she didn't say anything about afterward."

It sounded like there was going to be more to that statement but he fell silent, so she pressed, "But?"

Again, he hesitated. Finally he said, "If she helps us, I don't know if she will be able to go home."

"Bellamy… you can't be thinking that she should stay with us," she said doubtfully, shaking her head.

"She's just a little girl," he replied, not exactly answering the question. "And she's betraying her people- people who will torture and kill without the slightest bit of remorse- and she's doing it to help us. We can't just let her go back there. Doesn't she deserve a second chance?"

Clarke nodded slowly. "You're right," she said. "She does. But Octavia is never going to go for that… and I don't blame her. Bellamy, Lia murdered Lincoln."

He let out a groan and dropped his head into his hands. "I know that," he said softly, seeming to be at war with himself.

Gently, she reached out and stroked her fingers through his curls, watching the way his shoulders bowed under his stress. Softly, tenderly, she said, "We can't save everyone."

Bellamy's head shot up and he looked surprised as he met her eyes. "You're saying that?" he asked dubiously.

Clarke winced a little and then let out a long breath. "It's true," she said finally. "It just is. Wishing it wasn't isn't going to change anything. We need to get home, Bellamy. You're right about Octavia- she's sitting on the edge of a serious crisis and she needs to be safe at home when she finally falls off."

That seemed to get through to him as he pulled in a long breath and let it out heavily, and then he straightened up, nodding. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right."

"Dawn's not far away," she told him gently. "I need to go talk to Eema."

Bellamy reached up and laid his palm against her face. She softened, smiling and tilting her cheek into his hand. She wondered if she'd ever get used to the way his face looked as he leaned in to kiss her. She let her eyes close, let his lips chase away everything else in the world and just envelop her.

She still wasn't accustomed to kissing Bellamy, but that made it even more exhilarating as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close to his chest. She felt how strong he was, felt the texture of his lips against hers, soft but firm, felt the warmth of his fingers as they slid beneath her shirt and settled against her lower back. She traced his jaw with one of her hands and felt him shift her even closer, his palm firm in the small of her back as he pushed her against him.

Clarke backed off a bit and laid her forehead against his. She felt his breath mixing with hers, both of them breathing a bit faster than normal, and she looked into his eyes. They were so brown, so gentle, so full of unvoiced questions. She was close enough to count all the freckles on his face, but she was sure that would take forever. She hadn't wanted the moment to end, but she was worried that if they went too much farther, neither one of them would be able to stop.

"I know we can't do anything," he said softly, reading her mind. "But that doesn't mean I don't want to."

She leaned back from him and nodded her head. "I know," she said. "I do too." With a heavy sigh she reached into her pocket and pulled out the injector, already loaded with Red, and they both just stared at it for a long moment.

"I'm ready," he said finally, letting out a long, shaky breath.

Clarke met his gaze again and said, "I hate doing this to you." Her voice wavered a little at the end and her vision swam as tears filled her eyes.

Bellamy wrapped his hands around hers. Gently, seriously, he said, "You're saving my life, Clarke. You're saving all our lives."

She cringed a little but gritted her teeth, blinking away the tears, nodding. He tilted his head to the side and she primed the injector and then brought it up, sliding the needle deep into his neck, watching as his jaw tensed, briefly, with the pain. She touched her fingertips to the other side of his throat and felt his pulse, quick and erratic, and she wondered how much of that was from the drug and how much was from the kiss.

Pressing the trigger gently, she let the Red trickle into his vein as she kept eye contact with him, feeling his pulse jump and speed up, then crash back to something close to sluggish before finally righting itself again. She watched Bellamy's eyelashes flutter and saw his eyes glaze over as he drew in deep, ragged breaths, letting each one out slowly.

Clarke had no illusions about what was happening- she knew he was well and truly addicted, and she hated it as much as Octavia did, as much as Bellamy himself did. But maybe, after she talked to Eema, they could get to somewhere that they could use as a place to detox him safely- finally. She just hoped that whatever damage had been done to his heart so far would be minimal.

Once she was satisfied with his pulse, she stopped the flow of Red and withdrew the needle from his neck, easing him down on the bed and covering him with the furs. He was half out of it, his gaze far away and his mouth slack. He looked like he was in a trance and she hated to see him that way, but she knew with the small amount she gave him that it would pass quickly. She sat next to him on the bed and stroked his hair until he was lucid again.

Clearing his throat, trying to hide his embarrassment, he reached up and caught her hand, giving it a squeeze. "Are you going to talk to Eema now?"

"Yeah," she said with a nod and a tender smile. "You should rest. We're leaving at first light."

"First light is less than an hour away," he reminded her.

"So rest for less than an hour," she pointed out gently. "It's better than nothing."

Despite the logic of that statement, she knew he wouldn't do it- he would be too preoccupied about the outcome of this meeting to sleep, and so she didn't waste any time before she left his side and went to Eema's tent.

The guards were expecting her, and they let her in without incident. Eema, too, was clearly waiting for Clarke's arrival. She no longer had on her makeup or her jewel, and she was dressed in plain clothes. Without all her regalia she looked much more like herself, and much more like her true age. She smiled warmly at Clarke as she entered, showing teeth, and Clarke couldn't help but smile back.

The two of them sat together on her chairs, Eema forgoing her throne this time, keeping things informal. "Have you made your decision?" she asked.

"Yes," Clarke said, nodding. She made sure to keep her face strong and calm as she said, "This is not a choice I can make alone. I need to consult with the Council at Camp Jaha… this decision has to be shared. I can't ask them to go to war on my word alone, and I won't risk agreeing to this alliance and then returning home to find out that they won't follow me. I've been gone from Camp Jaha for months- they may not see me as their leader anymore."

Eema's frown was deep, but it was not as severe as Clarke had expected. After a long time, thoughtfully she said, "I see your point."

Clarke tried not to sound too eager as she replied, "So you're okay with that? I can go home and talk to the Council first?"

"If you do this, how will I know what has been decided?" Eema asked, not answering her one way or the other.

"If we agree to join the coalition and go to war with you, we'll send soldiers- warriors- to join up with yours at a location of your choosing," Clarke said, having prepared for that question. "And if we decide not to, then we'll send no one." It seemed like the most straightforward solution.

"No," Eema said firmly, surprising her. "If you decide to join, then send your warriors. But if you decide to have no part in this war, you must come back and tell me so yourself. If you send no one, then it could be possible that you never made it to Camp Jaha. There is still much land between here and there."

Clarke hesitated, but tried a compromise. "I'll send an envoy with our answer. Either way, you'll hear from us."

"I want the messenger to be you," Eema said frankly.

"My place is with my people," Clarke said, trying to be delicate. "I'm not a messenger."

Eema looked down at the ground for a moment, frowning, but then she let out a long sigh. "You are right, of course," she said, looking back to Clarke and meeting her eyes. "I was being weak." Suddenly she blinked a few times, as though confused by her own words and tried to recover. "What I mean to say is, I was hopeful that I might see you again. War tends to separate people."

"You're always welcome at Camp Jaha, Commander," Clarke said politely, pretending for both their sakes that it was not Lexa's influence that had made her say what she had. This time it was Clarke's turn to be startled by her own thoughts, as she reminded herself that she did not believe in reincarnation.

Eema made that difficult when she said, "It is strange to remember death… to know that there is no reason to fear it." She met Clarke's eyes and said, "Death is not the end."

Clarke had heard Lexa make that statement a few times, but only now did she truly appreciate those words, what they actually meant to these people- how literally they intended them to be taken.

"Death may not be the end, but I imagine it can still be frightening," she said gently, looking into Eema's soft brown eyes. On impulse she added, "It's okay to be scared. It's just me here… you don't have to be brave."

Eema seemed momentarily surprised at those words, but then she grinned. "You always speak your mind," she said. "It is one of the things I like most about you… though it can be quite aggravating too."

Clarke smiled and shook her head. "What's aggravating is when every moment you spend with someone is turned into a lesson about leadership and sacrifice."

"Not every moment," Eema said quietly, and there was Lexa so long ago, her voice so soft as she'd betrayed her feelings for the first time by saying, Not everyone. Not you.

Looking up into Eema's gaze, on the surface she saw brown eyes surrounded by a face very different than Lexa's, but still Clarke couldn't help but see the steely gaze and soft lips of someone she had once kissed.

Eema got to her feet abruptly and retrieved that same bottle of sky blue liquid, the one that wore the emblem of the Heda on its neck. "What is that?" Clarke couldn't help but ask. She watched the commander pour herself a tiny amount of the liquid, then stare at it, seeming to hesitate, as if reluctant to drink it.

She walked back over to Clarke and sat down, placing the tiny glass on the arm of her chair and eyeing it with obvious apprehension. "It is a special mixture," she said finally, her voice soft. "To quiet Lexa's spirit."

Clarke was shocked by that answer and she looked at the liquid with new respect, almost dread. "Does it hurt her?" she asked finally, feeling silly to voice the question but deciding to let go of her embarrassment. It was only the two of them there, and Eema wouldn't mock her for taking her beliefs seriously.

With hesitation, Eema said, "In a sense… yes, it does." Clarke hadn't expected that answer, and before she realised what she was doing she had reached out and brushed the glass off the arm of the chair. Together they watched it fall to the ground, where it landed with a soft thump, spilling the sky blue liquid into the earth.

The two women jumped to their feet in unison. Eema's eyes were wide as she said, absolutely scandalised, "That tonic is precious! The elders spend all the days and nights of the conclave creating it. To spill even a drop is unthinkable."

Clarke looked at the wet spot on the ground, then at Eema's severe and appalled expression, and she felt something terrible boiling up in her- a laugh, more from nerves than anything else, as well as the ridiculousness of this situation, of being worried over a spilled magical drink made to silence a dead woman's ghost. Finally she couldn't hold it in and she let out a half-swallowed giggle.

Eema looked even more outraged for a moment, but then suddenly she was laughing too. Clarke couldn't help but say, "I won't tell them if you don't."

Then they were both lost, laughing so hard that they couldn't breathe. Eema staggered over to her bed and sat down, dropping her head into her hands and just howling with laughter. Clarke's stomach hurt from how good it felt to just laugh, have fun, be carefree, to make light of something that felt so heavy and so ridiculous at the same time. She sat down next to Eema and the two of them folded into each other, tears streaming down their faces and onto each other's shoulders.

Finally, when they were able to calm down enough to breathe normally, Clarke lay back on the bed and gazed up at the ceiling of the tent. Eema lay back as well, her eyes also fixed on the softly rustling cloth. It felt like they were two teenagers having a slumber party- or what Clarke imagined a slumber party might be like.

Clarke shook her head as she said, "Why couldn't things have been more like this between me and Lexa? Everything was always so serious- the end of the world."

"It was because of the Ice Nation," Eema answered with a sigh. "Because of Costia. It was too hard for her to let go, to relax."

"She started to, at the end," Clarke allowed. "Maybe she would have more, if…"

A long silence passed between them and then they turned their heads to look at each other almost in unison. Eema pointed out gently, "Now you are the one making things too serious."

"Yeah," Clarke said softly, smiling wryly. "I guess I shouldn't complain about Lexa being so solemn when I'm just as bad."

"No," Eema said, shaking her head. "You are not just as bad." She gazed into Clarke's eyes for a moment and then she rolled onto her side, propping herself up on an elbow as she looked thoughtfully at Clarke. Gently she said, "You, too, have suffered much in the way of loss… but you have not let it change your essence."

Clarke felt a lump rising up in her throat and she asked bitterly, "How can you know that? The things I've done…"

"I am not talking about the things you've done," Eema said firmly. She brought her palm up and laid it over Clarke's heart. "I'm talking about what is inside you." She let out a long breath. "When you came to tonDC with the warning about the missile, I was wrong to say that you should not allow emotion to stop you from being strong. Your emotions are what make you strong."

Clarke felt her eyes fill with tears and she didn't realise how much those words would mean to her until they were spoken aloud. "Thank you," she managed.

Eema smiled at her, and then she raised her hand from Clarke's chest and traced the curve of her cheek with her fingertips. "Your strength is unique in this world, Clarke," she said softly. "You should never forget that."

It wasn't that the kiss was a shock- it wasn't, not at all, not by then- but the response she had to it was. As soon as Eema's lips were pressed against hers, Clarke was leaning into her, surprised by how familiar it all felt. As soon as her eyes were closed it was as though she was back with Lexa in her tent, and she could feel that this kiss held a myriad of emotions- not just the tenderness and passion of this moment, but the intensity of all the moments that had come before, as well guilt, heartache, and loss. Even as she kissed her she was grieving, apologising, wishing for something that could never be… saying goodbye.

Slowly she raised a hand, planting it in the small of Lexa's back as she inched closer to her, feeling the commander tuck one of her legs over Clarke's, pulling their bodies together on the bed. Lexa's breasts, stomach, and thighs pressed against Clarke's as her hand planted itself in her hair, gently parting the blonde strands as she stroked her head. She opened her lips to Clarke, deepening the kiss as their tongues met, sending a shockwave through Clarke's body.

With a jolt, Clarke pulled away suddenly, and Eema did the same, her gaze mirroring back the same stunned look that Clarke knew must have been thick in her own eyes. Quickly Clarke scrambled off the bed, backing away.

"I'm sorry," Eema said quickly, getting off the bed herself and keeping far away from Clarke. "Truly. I do not even feel attracted to women... not normally."

Letting out a small, strangled laugh Clarke shook her head. "It's fine, it's just…" She trailed off, having no idea how to finish that sentence.

"I should have a drink," Eema stammered, practically lunging for the bottle and taking a sip straight from the source. Clarke watched her nervously.

Then Eema said hastily, "You should go home- back to your camp. Six days' ride northeast from here is where I will rendezvous with your people… whether it will be an envoy or an army. My guards have a map they will give you, as well as fresh horses. I wish you safe travels, Clarke of the Sky People."

"Thank you," Clarke said, equally flustered, wishing for dark skin like Eema's so it could hide at least part of her extreme blush. She started for the tent and then stopped. "I wish you safe travels too, Commander," she said, not wanting to leave things like that, so abrupt. "And strength for whatever is coming."

Eema smiled sincerely at her. Gently she said, "May we meet again."

Clarke was hardly able to murmur her response before she hurried out of the commander's tent and into the dawn.