Disclaimer: Do not own Marvel, DC or The 100
Warnings for PTSD, torture and genocide
Her downfall
Looking back at the situation more closely, Clarke Griffin really should have known that they would be her downfall. She really should have known that. She had thought the best thing for each of them-for Natasha Romanoff and the rest of Clarke Griffin's romantic partner soulmates, and for Lila Barton, Clint Barton, Laura Barton and the rest of Clarke Griffin's familial soulmates, would be if she stayed away from all of them. Really, she did think that it was the best for them.
She hadn't realized that it would have benefitted her to stay away from them too.
When she was grabbed by the Azgeda, when she was almost twelve, barely a year after she had killed the entire population of the Mountain Men, and was called by the tribes "Wanheda," the Commander of Death, the queen of the Ice Nation, queen Nia, had told her that she knew Clarke's plight, knew that Clarke wanted to get rid of her heart, so that she didn't feel pain anymore and Nia informed Clarke that she could help her with that.
She told Clarke that she would help Clarke bury her heart. Destroy it, if that was what it came down to.
Nia promised Clarke that she would help bury Clarke's heart. She promised.
And for all the torture that Clarke experienced at the hands of Nia's warriors, she came to love Nia for that promise, and for her actually going through with that promise for almost eight years.
Clarke genuinely loved Nia for that. She truly had.
Clarke could never hate Nia. It didn't matter what Nia had done to her. Clarke loved Nia for what else she had done for Clarke, not to her.
Nia had told Clarke at one time, two years before Clarke had met Natasha Romanoff and the rest of the Avengers, when Clarke was eighteen, that love was the biggest danger to one's heart. Clarke had recalled in the years before she had been taken by the Azgeda, that Nia was right about that.
It didn't matter the kind of love, love was dangerous to one's heart. Incredibly dangerous.
Clarke's adoptive mother, Abby Griffin, was someone that Clarke had loved. Hadn't loved as much as Clarke had loved her adoptive father, Jake Griffin-but she had loved Abby. But Abby? Abby had let her husband, Jake get executed. Had let Clarke get thrown into a skybox for six years, till Clarke was eleven, and when the Ark had come down and Clarke had lost control of her hunger and had broken out and had killed a bunch of other prisoners. And after Abby had seen Clarke do this, even though Clarke was only eleven years old and had needed help, Abby had rejected Clarke and had called her a monster.
That had hurt. That hurt so much.
Clarke had come to love Maya Vie, one of the Mountain Men, who had been one of the few people who had been kind to Clarke.
And what had happened?
Clarke had had to kill all of the Mountain Men. Including Maya.
Clarke had desperately wanted the love all of her mates, back then too. But none of them could possibly love her. Clarke knew that when she was almost twelve and was taken by the Azgeda. None of them could love her.
No one could love her.
That was what she told herself, anyway.
And the Azgeda? They gave her a purpose. At that time, they were the closest she had known to a family.
She had actually loved them, to a certain extent.
She hadn't fully loved them.
After all, Nia made sure of that.
But something like love.
And to Clarke? It was worth it. It was so worth it.
The Azgeda, Nia, all of them-they had been worth it. No matter how much or how little love Clarke felt for them-they had all been worth it.
And yes, Clarke had killed Nia, but she had done it because she had to. For the Azgeda. For the people that she had come so close to loving.
Then the Avengers had arrived two years ago. And Clarke had met Natasha-had looked at Natasha Romanoff in the eyes, the soul connection had been made, and Clarke had been lost.
Her downfall had arrived at Azgeda, and Clarke had been lost to anyone's voice, except for the voice of the seductress, Natasha Romanoff.
Clarke had been unable to do anything else, except go down the length of the tree and go down to the ground, taking Natasha's hand, at Natasha's urging for her to come down.
Honestly, Clarke didn't know how she could be blamed. She doubted anyone else would have been able to resist Natasha.
Natasha had been her downfall. But she had just been the beginning.
Then there was Clint Barton, Clint's wife, Laura Barton, their biological children, the rest of Clarke's familial soulmates and the rest of Clarke's romantic partner soulmates, and even a good portion of the other tribes and even some friends.
Clarke should be happy about that. And she was. Without question, happy. She was so happy to have all these people in her life-she loved them so much.
But she also knew that that love was dangerous. Incredibly dangerous.
Three of her many, many familial soulmates, Rogue, Storm and Jean Grey-all wives, all Clarke's mothers, had tried to get Clarke to stay with them for a few days.
And worse-Clarke had accepted.
Nia had warned her that love was a danger to one's heart.
And she had been right.
Unfortunately, it was too late.
They were her downfall.
All of them were.
But she had first met her downfall at the beginning-when she was twenty, and had locked eyes with Natasha Romanoff in the Ice Nation.
Clarke's reign of terror and evil had started and ended in the Ice Nation. Had been guided by Nia, started by Clarke, but ended by Natasha almost eight years later.
In present day, two years later, when Clarke was almost twenty-two, she turned away from the dark night sky, separated from her by a pane of glass and looked at Natasha who was sitting up against the wall, on their shared bed, black satin sheets over her legs and reading a book.
Clarke smiled at Natasha and her smile widened when she saw Natasha's mouth begin to turn up into a smirk, clearly sensing Clarke looking at her, even though Natasha was looking down at her open book and not at Clarke.
Clarke remained where she was, sitting on the windowsill, just watching Natasha-her love, her beloved, her darling, her treasure, her queen, her goddess, her only deity, her downfall.
In every single iteration of the moment that Clarke recalled when she had met Natasha and had chosen to willingly go with Natasha, and she knew that in every single one of those iterations, no matter what alternate dimension that might exist, she knew she would always, always choose her downfall. Would always choose Natasha Romanoff.
