A/N: Late update, life has been busy and this needed a bit more work than usual. Also, the song is not mine. Enjoy!
Chapter 12: Aftermath
Lexa left the Nightbloods quarters, and strongly informed the guards that no one but herself was allowed to enter – not even the Fleimkeepa. The Tower was in a state of lock down, and would remain such until she was convinced that it was safe again. She sent the same order to the warriors guarding Clarke's room. No one would disturb the Natblidas tonight. She instructed for food to be sent to Clarke and the nightbloods' rooms, the servants instructed to let the warriors taste everything to ensure no poison had been slipped in the meal. Then the warriors would knock and announce that food was available.
Lexa made her way to the cells. Gustus was already waiting for her there. He dropped to his knees when he saw her, apologizing for not protecting her properly – he had been leading the team chasing and capturing the first assassin. She waved away his apology and grimly instructed him to proceed with the interrogation.
The attackers were all relatively young – barely a few years older than her – but had been trained well. Two hours of torture later, Lexa still had no idea who else might be involved as her prisoners remained tight-lipped. They endured the pain and stayed silent.
Thankfully, though, she had been able to identify them. All of their known friends had been brought to another cell for questioning – a gentler questioning, as she had no wish to torture innocents. They would be released slowly, once she was convinced that they had taken no part in the plot to kill her novitiates.
She left Gustus, trusting him to continue the interrogation and report his findings. The multiple arrestation and closing of the Tower reassured her that her home was mostly safe again – for now.
Tiredly, she made her way back to Strina's body, where Titus had already washed and covered the young girl. She informed him of the on-going investigation, and he offered to supervise it so she could rest and see to the remaining novitiates. She accepted gratefully.
After he left the room, Lexa lifted the sheet to gaze one last time at Strina's face. She was pale, but relaxed, and Lexa hoped that her spirit would choose a body destined to a simpler, happier life. She lit a stick of incense and waved it above the dead girl as she whispered her prayer to the Spirit, as she had when the previous Heda had passed. Tomorrow, the Natblidas would do the same, and then the girl's body would be burned on a pyre to free her spirit.
Feeling more calm after her devotions, she left the room and made her way to Clarke's. She expected the children to be there, or have at least visited her for a while. She nodded to the guards before knocking softly on the door. For once, she waited, not wanting to cause her charges undue stress by barging in as she was often prompt to do.
The door opened slightly, and Clarke smiled when she saw her. She moved aside to let her in, and Lexa slipped through the narrow opening. The blonde closed the door behind her and whispered.
''They are asleep. Good thing that room has such a large bed.''
Aden was sitting quietly on the sofa, one hand resting on six-year old Minnea as she slept with her head in his lap. The five other natblidas were sleeping on Clarke's bed, and from the empty space on one side of it Lexa guessed that the young woman had been lying with them until she heard her knock.
Wordlessly, she indicated to Clarke that she should return to her previous position, while she herself went to sit besides Aden. She pressed his head against her torso, and caressed his hair until she felt him tremble and heard him sobbing quietly until he finally fell asleep.
It was well after midnight when Lexa rose and shook Clarke.
''We need to get them back to their own beds. The situation is too delicate right now to allow anyone to find out about the passage.''
She hated to send them back – especially Aden – to their quarters, where the empty bed would be glaringly obvious. But it was necessary. She could only keep Titus and all the servants and warriors away for so long. Soon, Gustus or her Flame keeper would be knocking on her door to report on their progress in the investigation.
And her own extended presence in Clarke's room had probably been noticed as well. If she had not been in such a hurry to see her novitiates, she would have thought of going to her own rooms and joining them through the passage herself.
They awoke the children, as the passage was too narrow to allow them to carry them downstairs. The young women escorted them to their own rooms, and Clarke pulled Aden's mattress into the room of the younger Natblidas when she saw his ashen face staring at Strina's bed. Lexa smiled her thanks at the blonde.
Some were exhausted and fell back asleep quickly, but the two youngest were crying quietly while Aden was staring blankly at the wall.
Lexa was at a loss for what to do next. Though she was no stranger to grief, she had rarely helped someone through that process before, and never received such help either. After some deliberation, she asked Clarke if she could read them another story. They had enjoyed it before, and she hoped it would distract them enough from their grief to let them fall asleep.
The blonde shook her head, stating her mind was too much of a mess to think of a story at the moment. Instead, she proposed a lullaby.
''What is that? I have never heard that word before.'' Lexa asked.
Though really, if Clarke thought it could work, she didn't really care what it was.
''It's a soothing song, one you sing to young children to help them fall asleep. Your people never do that?''
Lexa squirmed in her seat by her youngest natblida. ''They do. But I have never heard one personally. I was sent to Polis at two, I have no memories of my parents, or any song they might have sung to me.'' She explained, ashamed that she was so unable to provide comfort to the children. ''Will you sing one?''
''I… I can try. It's not exactly a lullaby, but it sounds like one, and it's the only song I can think of right now.''
She began, her voice low and raspier than usual.
Fear not this night
You will not go astray
Though shadows fall
Still the stars find their way
Awaken from a quiet sleep
Hear the whispering of the wind
Awaken as the silence grows
In a solitude of the night
Lexa gently caressed the hair of the young girl as her tears slowed and her face relaxed into sleep. She quietly made her way around the room, checking on all the natblidas and pausing to move Aden in a more comfortable position – the boy had slumped against the concrete wall, his neck at an angle that promised soreness in the morning.
Pleadings heard in arias
Gently grieving in captive misery
Darkness sings a forlorn song
Yet our hope can still rise up
Nightmares come when shadows grow
Lift your voice, lift your hope
Some of the words were unknown to Lexa, but she could understand why it had come so readily to Clarke's mind. It spoke of hoping and enduring past the grief and the hardships. It certainly suited the situation.
When the last note faded into silence, Lexa verified one last time that they were all asleep before guiding Clarke back to her room. Nightmares would probably come sooner or later, but they had done their best for now.
Back in the healer's room, she asked quietly.
''Do you have any bandages?''
Clarke's eyes jumped to her form, searching for any sign of injury. ''Are you hurt? Why didn't you say anything before? Show me, I'll heal you.'' She urged, her left hand already rising towards her.
''I am fine.'' She placated. ''But the guards will wonder why I stayed in your room for so long. Just wrap a bandage somewhere they will see, but where a wound could have escaped notice because of my clothes. Let them think you exhausted your powers to heal Aden and had to resort to more traditional methods for me. I will come to your room again tomorrow for you to 'heal' me fully.'' She detailed.
The blonde stared at her for a while, and Lexa struggled to interpret her expression. Relief? Worry? Disappointment? Admiration?
''I am actually impressed you can come up with such a plan under the circumstances.'' She eventually said before walking to a chest and pulling out wrappings.
''Lift up your shirt.'' She instructed. ''The leg would be more sure to be noticed, but your warriors would know you did not limp here, so I will make a bandage around your back and shoulder. Let your sleeve roll up a little and they should be able to see it.''
Since the bandage was literally just for show, Clarke was done quickly. Lexa thanked her and left through the main door, making sure to ''forget'' to pull down her sleeves as she walked to her own rooms and settled to get some sleep.
She slept fitfully, and rose as soon as sunlight filtered through the windows. She dressed quickly, forgoing her pauldron when she remembered the ripped sash, and exited her rooms to make her way back to Clarke's. The wrappings were irritating on her skin, and she wanted them off as soon as possible.
She hesitated, fist hovering before the door. They had not gone to bed until really late, and the blonde had healed several fatal wounds the previous day. She must be exhausted.
With a sigh, she knocked. There was a lot to do today. Starting with the funeral, and the investigation. She might need Clarke to heal the traitors so they could continue the questioning, if they still refused to talk.
A muffled voice invited her in, and she entered.
''Learned the art of waiting after knocking?'' The blonde remarked dryly.
She was sitting at her desk, working on a drawing – plants again, most likely. And from the bags under her eyes, she had not had much rest. It seemed the young woman dealt with grief in a similar way than her – by burying herself in work.
''I was unsure of whether you were awake yet.'' She replied as she walked up behind her and looked at the drawing over her shoulder.
It was not a plant. Instead, she found herself looking into Strina's eyes.
She felt tears well up in her eyes at the unexpected sight and took a quick step back. Clarke hid the drawing under another sheet and rose from her seat to face her.
''Sorry. I… I wanted to draw her. Keep a… happier image of her than last night.'' She explained softly.
Lexa took a deep breath and looked away from her to take a moment to calm down and compose herself.
''It is a good liking. Just… don't show it to the others. Not yet.'' She said, and was relieved to see the healer nod.
She squared her shoulders. ''If you are ready, can you remove those bandages? We must have Strina's final ceremony this morning, and I need to finish sorting this whole mess.''
''Of course.''
Soon, they were sitting across each other in a nearby room, picking at their breakfast. Lexa encouraged Clarke to eat, remembering how ravenous the girl had been after intense healing a few days ago. But neither of them seemed able to stomach more than a few mouthfuls.
They were interrupted by a Latina who called out to them from behind the wall of warriors guarding the door.
''Oi! Griffin! Where is my bike?''
The blonde sighed. Lexa ordered the guards to let the girl in. She'd rather have everything taken care of as soon as possible.
The mechanic entered the room, glaring over her shoulder at the huge warriors, but stopped short when she saw the two young women.
''Er… sorry, Commander. Didn't know you were here.''
She paused, focusing on Clarke. ''No offense, Griffin, but you look like shit. What the hell happened? I swear warriors have been multiplying since last night, and the guards wouldn't let me go get that bike.''
Lexa saw Clarke glance at her, asking with her eyes if she was allowed to tell Raven. She nodded reluctantly.
''One of the Commander's novitiates was assassinated last night. That's why the Tower is on locked down.'' She explained succinctly.
The Latina dropped on the bench next to Clarke. ''Holy shit! I am really sorry Commander.'' She exclaimed with a shake of her head. Then she turned to the healer and asked. ''Was it one of the kids you were reading to?''
Clarke nodded, hands clenching the edge of the table. ''She was. Her funeral is this morning.''
''Oh. Want me to braid your hair again?'' The mechanic offered, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. ''At least then my years of tangling and untangling wires will have some use.'' She joked weakly.
Lexa's throat dried and she felt her stomach churned. She had forgotten that this girl was the one who had braided Clarke's hair last night. She was ashamed by the jealousy she felt at this moment. Strina was dead. Why did she care about braids?
The blonde turned back to her. ''Would it be appropriate? To braid my her for the ceremony?'' She asked softly.
Lexa nodded – she didn't trust herself to speak at the moment. She would either cry or challenge Raven to a duel, and neither option was appropriate.
She clenched her knees with her fists until it became painful, and the pain helped her center herself again. She considered the young mechanic, forcing herself to think of the possibilities offered by her talents rather than her annoying closeness with the blonde healer.
''I will have two guards escort you so you can retrieve your bike during the ceremony, Raven. And I want you to look for anything of the old world that might help me make the attackers talk. My warriors informed me that they still refused to relinquish information.'' She said in a cold voice.
The other brunette hesitated. ''Er… I don't think there is anything like that. I mean, cops used to have lying detector, but they were not exactly reliable and you still need the guy to be talking in the first place. And I tried shocking that guy who had taken Octavia, but he did not even scream. Are all your warriors like that?''
Lexa felt a mix of pride and disappointment. ''Those that are well trained. Can you really think of nothing? I do not want my novitiates to be attacked again.'' She growled.
''I can.'' Clarke spoke up, eyes still on her food.
Both brunettes stared at her. Lexa held back a question of why the blonde would know of torture when it seemed in complete opposition with her principles.
''I told you I was in solitary for several months. That I almost went crazy. Do you know what you do, when you can't see or talk to another living being for so long? You talk. Because the silence becomes unbearable. I drew faces of my family or friends on the walls, and I talked to them. And I would spend hours with my ear to the door just to make sure there were still people in the Ark besides myself.''
She exhaled. ''Your warriors are trained to endure pain. But they are not used to complete isolation, are they?'' Lexa acquiesced slowly, not really convinced.
Raven spoke up. ''I had forgotten about it, but there was a kind of torture similar to that. Sensory deprivation. Stories said it was one of the worst thing you could use on a human being.''
That sounded more promising than months of waiting. ''Tell me more.'' She demanded, turning to Raven.
The brunette looked uncomfortable. ''Er… basically, you put the prisoner in a completely white room, and ensure the only color he can see is white. You only give him white food, he wears white clothes he can't remove on his own. Also, no one enters the room, and you make sure he can hear nothing from the outside. Most people go crazy in a few days, and… well, they never really recover.''
Lexa gritted her teeth. She vaguely understood the kind of damages it could do to one's mind. But those traitors would die as soon as she knew what she needed to know. It was a small price to pay to protect the Natblidas.
''I will give instructions to prepare such a room. I want you, Raven, to inspect it and confirm that it is ready for use. You will not have to involve yourself further in this.'' She ordered.
She looked slightly sick. ''Er, okay. Thanks.''
''Klark, will you join me in an hour in the Natblidas' rooms?'' She asked as she rose. She had to prepare the ceremony.
She left the room without waiting for an answer. She knew the blonde would come, anyway.
The ceremony was formal, and visibly hard on everyone. All the Natblidas had been taught the prayers to honor Heda before the Conclave, and the gloom such rituals cast on the room was palpable. Lexa was reminded of her own Conclave throughout the ceremony – from when she had honored the previous Heda, to when she had mourned her fellow Natblidas.
Titus was, as usual, the one presiding the ceremony. He knew the rituals better than anyone, after serving five Hedas. His speech, however, was new.
''It is a rare and regrettable occurrence, when a Natblida dies away from a Conclave. Strina was worthy of her nightblood, but the Spirit chose to send her on a new mission before our next Conclave. When the time of the next Ascension comes, she will be missed and remembered as if she had participated in the Conclave.'' He claimed.
Lexa could see Aden's pale face turn to the ground, his face a mix of guilt, pain and relief. She understood what he felt, as she had felt the same weight on her shoulders before. Though she had not been the oldest Natblida at her Conclave, she had been one of the most talented and many had expected her to win once Luna had loudly proclaimed that she refused to fight in the Conclave. As talented as Strina had been, Aden would have most likely won against her.
Since she had turned ten and been moved in the same room as his, he had known that he would have to kill her one day. Though she knew he probably felt somewhat responsible for her death now, he was also comforted that he would never have to deliver the fatal blow to the girl that had been like a sister to him for so long.
Lexa also noticed the elaborated braids that decorated Clarke's head. She was both happy to see the blonde so involved with the children, and disturbed to think of how long Raven must have been working on her. The blonde had copied the hairdo that the young natblida girls wore when she first met them.
She was also touched to see the healer repeat the gestures and the words of the ceremonial prayers, even though she knew that Clarke still refused to believe in the Spirit.
After all the prayers were done, they slowly carried Strina's body to the roof of the tower, where the Great Flame burned.
The Great Flame was always extinguished after the death of Heda, and lit again with the shared pyre of Heda and the Natblidas that had fallen in the Conclave. Titus had suggested to have a pyre for Strina in the glade where the nightbloods usually trained, but Lexa had refused. She felt that burning a Natblida in any fire but that of a Great Flame would dishonor her memory.
Lexa and Aden pushed the body in the fire together, as Heda and the now only Nightblood currently old enough to enter the Conclave. They all stared as it was consumed.
The funeral was over. Titus, always one to protest the weight of emotions, gathered the Nightbloods to resume their lessons. Lexa sent him a glare as a silent warning to be more mindful of the shock they had all suffered. Still, there was some logic in keeping them busy right now.
Clarke and her stayed long after the children had left.
''What is the Conclave, exactly? I did not ask the first time, I figured it was some sort of tests that were dangerous. But unless I am wrong, I have not met any Nightblood around your age. Why?'' The blonde asked quietly.
She had moved away from the fire, sitting near the edge of the roof and looking down at the city below.
Lexa was still staring at the Flame, despite the ache in her eyes.
''When Heda dies, all Natblidas aged ten or older fight in a tournament, until only one remains. The fights are to the death, and those that refused to fight and ran were executed.'' She explained in a pained voice.
She did not want to talk about that. Not today. And not here.
But Clarke insisted. ''So you had to kill all the kids you were raised with? And when you die, all those kids will have to tear one another apart?'' She asked, horrified. ''I thought your Spirit wanted peace!''
Lexa finally turned away from the fire, blinking at the sudden change of light.
''One from my Conclave refused to fight, but I managed to convince my advisors to spare her. She had to leave Polis, and is not allowed to ever return to the city. But she is alive.''
She walked and dropped next to Clarke, sitting cross-legged. ''The Spirit wants peace. I do not like the Conclave. No Natblida does. And in time, I hope it will not be so deadly.''
''You have to understand, Klark. Heda protects the people regardless of their original clans. Polis is a neutral territory. But because Heda is admired by all the people, many chiefs want an Heda that has some loyalty to its clan.''
''At first, Nightbloods only came to the city when it was time for the Conclave. A few generations ago, Heda announced that all natblidas should be raised in Polis, to be better prepared for their future role. But the chief clans did not want an Heda that would have no loyalty to its birth clans. So after some time in Polis, the nightblood would return and serve as a Seken – a warrior's Second – in his or her birth clan. I was Anya's Seken for four years. That's why people still call me Leksa kom Trikru.''
''I managed to break this tradition, so my novitiates will never leave the city to return to their first clan where chiefs want to manipulate them. And when I finally united the clans in my Coalition, I gave the ambassadors the power to destitute me through an unanimous vote.''
''I hope the fact that an Heda can now be ended by something other than death will allow people to accept that Heda can also be chosen by means other than death. But the Coalition is still too young and fragile right now. The Conclave is a show of strength, to prove that the new Heda is strong enough to protect the people. Right now, we still need that strength.''
Clarke's voice had softened compared to her first outburst, but she was still visibly angry at the system.
''I understand the history. But it is stupid. And a waste. You spend years training those brilliant kids, grooming them in both powerful warriors and talented diplomats. And in the end, they are only selected on their fighting skills. Winning a fight doesn't mean you can win a war, or argue with a cunning ambassador. Yet, that is what Hedas will have to do from now on, right?'' She pointed out.
Lexa nodded. ''Yes. I hope I will live long enough for the Coalition to be more stable, and survive my death. Then, I hope my successor – Aden, most likely – may be able to transform the Conclave.''
Clarke turned to her, fire in her eyes. ''Hell, no, Lexa! I am not letting you die until you have changed the Conclave. I am not coming back here to burn another of those kids just because you got yourself killed. You spirit stays where it is until I say otherwise!''
Lexa felt a smile tug at her lips. ''You will be stuck in Polis for years, then, Healing Nymph.'' She warned.
''I don't mind.'' She replied seriously.
Lexa glanced at Clarke's lips, caught the other young woman doing the same, and looked away, blushing, when she realized where her mind had taken her. The children. She reminded herself. Klark is staying for the children, not for you. Not for that. And even if Clarke was willing, Lexa did not want a kiss driven by grief. She knew it was natural for desire to arise in such times, but she refused to bow to the demands of her mourning mind.
She heard the blonde clear her throat, and mumble that she should see if Raven had made any progress with the radio. Lexa felt her heart clench at the reminder of the other brunette that could hug or touch Clarke so freely. She wanted such closeness with the healer, longed for the physical comfort she had seen her provide the young Nightbloods with, but had no idea how to ask for it.
She had no wish for their interaction to end on an awkward note, so she reverted back to a more official tone.
''Your wood should be delivered today. For the chessboard. And your other companion, Murphy – I do not know what to do with him.''
Clarke paused. ''Well, if I am busy with the nightbloods and the radio, and the books… Maybe I can convince Murphy to help me carve those pieces, until we find some other occupation for him. I'll talk to him once I am done with Raven.'' She offered.
''Warn me once you have managed to talk to your people. I would like to see it. And I expect they will be impatient to get to the ground since the air is so poor in your old home.'' Lexa commented.
Clarke chuckled. ''I bet they will be. See you soon, Lexa.''
She paused again at the top of the stairs, and turned to Lexa again.
The brunette rose an eyebrow in question.
''No offense, Commander, but… For what you plan, you will need a new Fleimkeepa. This Titus is too old and set in his old ways. He reminds me of some of the Council members in the Ark. I am guessing he is the one sprouting around that love is weakness, right? I never thought one could remain so stoic while burying a child he basically raised.''
And with that, she left.
Lexa stayed where she was, considering. Titus was a good teacher, and she had a hard time picturing a Flame keeper with another face. She knew he had had an apprentice many years ago, that had died in an accident a couple years after she was brought to Polis. She wasn't sure she had ever seen the boy, or if she had simply been too young to remember his face.
Since then, Titus had never found a satisfying apprentice again, but Lexa had not exactly seen him actively searching for one either. Though Flame keepers had a much better longevity than Hedas, Titus was getting older.
More worrying was the fact that he was the only one – apart from Lexa – who knew the rites to pass on the Flame to the next Commander. If he and Lexa were killed, none of her natblidas would be able to inherit the title of Commander, regardless of their talents.
And Clarke was right that Titus was too set in his ways. He had been one of those most opposed of the idea of destituing Heda through a vote, and constantly reminded the Natblidas of their future Conclave – even the youngest, Rawon and Niom, who had only arrived a few month ago.
She should encourage him to start teaching an apprentice of his own. And if – or rather when – he resisted the idea as he had whenever Lexa had erred near that particular subject before, she would insist that the recent attack made it necessary.
Briefly, she entertained the idea of recommending Clarke – she could read, knew the Nightbloods and was already participating in their teaching. But she rejected the notion quickly. As pleasing as it seemed, it was better if the roles of healer and Flame keeper stayed separate. One was to take care of the bodies. The other had to be devoted to the Spirit and the Flame.
Decided, Lexa rose to her feet. She had to meet with Gustus, and try this white room torture if the prisoners were still tight-lipped. Then she would meet the ambassadors – it would be brief, as no real decisions could be taken while Azgeda had no official representative.
And then she would have a private audience with Titus and excuse him for the rest of the day, to allow him to work on his criterias for his future apprentice. She would give him a month to find one. If he couldn't find anyone satisfying by then, she would choose for him.