Disclaimer: Besides the usual disclaimer, I want to add that there is a quote from one of my favorite books of all times... bonus points for whoever spots it.

Jo Hamel: To be honest while your idea could be an interesting angle, it didn't cross my mind.

David12leca: Thanks for the encouragement! it really means a lot. I hope I can live up to your expectations

J3m1l1J: Gracias por el voto de confianza!

"Prisoner 319, your food" a metallic voice reverberated through the walls of her small prison.

Clarke was so familiar with the routine that she didn't even need to hear it to know what would happen.

First the familiar creaking of the door and the light steps of the guard, who didn't dare enter the room for safety reasons. That would be followed by the unmistakable jingling of a plate thrown carelessly on her floor and finally the resounding tap of the guard's hurriedly receding footsteps, eager to finish feeding the prisoners to be finally relieved of their tedious shift.

"I should try to eat something".

She had learned early on that refusing to eat the prison food, which was worse than anything she had tasted before, only lead to a beating or some other form of punishment and she wasn't eager to experience that any time soon. She still had phantom pains in her back from the last electric whipping she received.

The blonde tried to open her eyes but the sensory overload that assaulted her was unmanageable; her ears were ringing so loud that she was sure her eardrums had shattered.

After the first attempt to incorporate herself she became acutely aware that trying to sit on the bed hadn't been a smart choice either, a wave of nausea invaded her and been unable to fight it she ended up falling to the floor.

All her muscles ache like she had run for hours without stopping, her head was throbbing painfully and her heart was pounding so fiercely that for a second she feared it would break out of her chest. Was this how dying felt like?

She had no idea how much time she spent on the cold, metallic floor, curled up like a baby. It could have been a minute or even hours, she was too disorientated and too worn out to care.

Soon her sobs turn into a loud wailing, why didn't the pain stop?. Surely someone must have heard her by now, most guards were cruel towards their prisoners but even they wouldn't let her die like this, would they?

A fog started to envelop her mind, everything was hazy and slightly out of focus but at least the brutal and relentless pain she felt before seemed to be fading.

Her pulse started to slow down and the soreness lessened a bit but she was exhausted and didn't have the strength to keep fighting so she just closed her eyes and gave up.

A rapidly fired sequence of brief flashes started to dance behind her partially closed eyelids

Blood, so much blood; in her hands, her face, her clothes, just about everywhere. Why was it black? That made no sense, blood is red.

A two headed deer, green trees and fresh air. The earth. So deadly but so magnificent at the same time.

Grounder Warriors, armed with spears and deadly swords. Thousands of them.

Metal chains chuffing her wrists, making them bleed.

Titus grief-stricken and fearful expression

Life slowly draining from her

Ontari's malevolent smirk

A gleaming double edge sword

Breathtaking green eyes

All-consuming love

Explosive lust

A roaring cry emerged from her already sore throat. "Lexa!"

No longer feeling like she was dying, Clarke took a second to scrutinize her surroundings; shiny metallic floor and walls, a few art supplies scattered aimlessly and an untouched plate of food. She was in her sky-box, there was no doubt of that.

Was any of what she had just seen, real? It had to be. She couldn't have made it up, could she? No, it had felt so vivid that, no matter how far-fetched and ludicrous it sounded, it had to be real.

Lexa couldn't be a figment of her imagination, she just couldn't. For some reason even the possibility of that filled her with unspeakable dread.

Was her mind playing a trick on her or her prison was even colder than before?. Even wrapped in her comforter she was freezing, she tried rubbing her hands together to generate some warm but it yielded no results.

"You are finally awake my little child" a gravelly voice whispered

"Who are you? Are you even real? Or this is just happening inside my head?"

"Of course it is happening inside your head, but why should that mean that it is not real?"

"That makes no sense whatsoever"

"Don't you feel me?"

"What?"

"In your soul Clarke"

"This is getting weirder by the minute"

"Search your soul for something that shouldn't be there. Something that you had never felt before until today"

"Are you the reason why I'm freezing?"

"Sort of, yes. It takes time for the human body to get used to"

"Get used to what exactly?"

"Me, obviously". The voice sounded amused this time.

"Ok, I'm definitely coming down with something. Maybe it's the flu. But the flu doesn't provoke hallucinations, does it?" Just in case she would check with her mother in her next visit.

The voice laughed loudly. It was pleasant and oddly comforting, like the embrace of an old friend.

"You are not sick Clarke"

"Of course I'm sick, I'm hearing things that are not here"

"We already went through that. I'm in your head, yes, but I'm very much real"

"Who are you?"

"You don't remember me, do you?". The voice sounded disheartened and even a little saddened by this revelation.

For some reason that she couldn't exactly comprehend Clarke wanted the voice, whoever she was, to be joyful again. She wanted her to laugh, like she had done just moments before.

"I'm sorry"

"For what?"

"For not knowing who you are, for forgetting you"

"Oh Clarke, you shouldn't worry about me"

"But I do, I don't really know exactly why but I care for you"

"Your soul is already merging with mine, that's why you care"

"My soul is doing what?"

"You might not consciously recall who I am but your soul does, that's why it accepted our bond so fast"

"Relax, breath slowly and let your mind go blank. What do you see?"

"Nothing I…"

Another flash. Red eyes, a gravelly voice that didn't belong to her, speaking in Trigedasleng, a language she could barely comprehend.

"I'm Wanheda and my spirit won't rest until I find you again ai hodnes"

"So everything was real? The earth? Lexa?"

"Yes, those aren't dreams, they are your memories"

"But how?… why?"

"With your last breath you called for me and I came to your aid"

"Why didn't you show yourself before?"

"You felt responsible for everything that happened down there, even for the events that were out of your control. You were filled with such an unbearable guilt that I couldn't have shared your soul even if I wanted to"

"What happens now?"

"Now darling you make sure we live, not just survive this time"