DAY 3: LEXA | ALICIA

We get up as soon as the first ray of light hits the ground. We pack light, since we don't plan on staying away too long. On staying with them.

Her people.

My people...

I'm not ready to face them. I'm not ready to be me again. That part of me.

Clarke knows. More than that: she accepts. She doesn't push me. She doesn't force me to be that one and only person she once got to know. And I realize all too well how selfless, how exceptional that is.

It reminds me of the time we met. Two people from different worlds, with different ideas and different customs. Yet she didn't ridicule ours. She didn't question us. Well, not at first at least. She adjusted. And with that she impressed me.

Oh man, did she impress me. Not just by everything she did, but by who she was. She made me fall for her, like no one ever did before... or after.

And now, years later, she's doing it all over again.

"You're ready to go?"

A little startled, I blink. Did she catch me staring at her?

"Y-Yeah, I am. Let's do this," I nod.

We reckon it's about a six hour walk, more if we run into trouble. It would be safer if we follow yesterday's winding main road, but also triple the distance. A day at least. For some reason it doesn't feel like an option.

So we choose the shortcut through the woods.

"Tell me about her," I inquire as soon as we've left the camp. "About Octavia."

Last night, after learning that it was Octavia who took Luna's life, we had to drop the subject as we were called for dinner, and although there'd been plenty of time after that, I just couldn't get myself to drag her away from the others. Seeing her chatting with June and Lucy, goofing around with Charlie, taking first watch with Strand—basically watching her slowly step into my world—I just had to let her be. Well, let her be and look at her, with an undeniable flutter in my heart and an indelible smile on my lips.

It must have been the first night in a long, long time that I felt slightly relaxed again. I'd almost say happy, if it wouldn't be too scary to admit such a thing.

But that was last night.

Today is about reality again. About wanting more nights like that, way more, and the need to build that. The need for an actual life. The need for safety.

Clarke looks at me. She heaves a heavy sigh. "Well, you know part of her story. How she never really got to live until she got to the ground. How she found her tribe there, feeling related to the Grounders instead of, well, us."

"Yet she killed one?"

"More than one," she corrects me. "But I'm not there yet."

As we keep walking she tells me about Lincoln's death and how it affected Octavia. And about Second Praimfaya, the threat that was bigger than all the clans together. The death wave that was going to be the end of the world. She tells me about the bunker, that wasn't big enough for everyone. And about the final conclave. One champion from each clan fighting to the death, until one would remain. First price, apart from staying alive: the bunker.

"Despite her dreadful history in space, and one of our own chancellors executing Lincoln, Octavia fought for Skaikru."

"And won?"

"And won," Clarke nods.

I narrow my eyes. "By killing them all?"

She slowly shakes her head. "By killing the last one... Luna."

"Luna?" I frown. "Why would she fight? You told me she'd lost her clan. Who would she share that bunker with?!"

"No one. She was willing to go down... and take the whole world with her," Clarke answers quietly, before shrugging her shoulders - almost apologetically. "I told you she'd gone dark."

We stay quiet for a moment. I try to picture Luna the way she turned out. The girl I grew up with. My sister... kind of. The girl who didn't want to fight.

I can't.

"After winning the conclave, Octavia surprised everyone by refusing to only take Skaikru into the bunker," she goes on. "With twelve clans left, she decided each clan could choose a hundred people to stay in there. To survive Praimfaya. With that, Wonkru was born."

I look up in surprise. "A coalition?"

She doesn't get the chance to react. As I keep staring at her, instead of watching the ground in front of me like I should, I trip over a root sticking out. Clarke reaches out fast, grabbing my arm to prevent me from an ugly mud dive. Only when she sees that I'm scatheless, she lets go of me again and answers in a mocking tone, "I wouldn't call it that. There weren't any ambassadors, to start with. Just one leader: Queen Octavia." Without slowing down, she rests her hand on my shoulder. "Believe me, she was nothing like you!"

I glance at her, making sure not to stumble again, and scoff. "You make it sound like I was some saint. Like I tried to unite those clans by inviting them over for tea, instead of fighting wars over it. Like I never kicked those against me off my balcony. Or—"

I fall quiet when I feel her arms wrap around me from behind, pulling me tight into her embrace. She nudges her nose into my hair, then kisses the skin underneath.

"I mostly remember how you stopped doing all that. For me," she smiles, her warm breath caressing my neck.

Wide-eyed, I turn around in her arms to face her. "You're saying I went all... all... weak...? For you?!"

Trying—but failing—to keep a straight face, she raises her brows. "You didn't?" she chuckles.

"No!" I exclaim. However, my attempt to appear offended does not last long as the corner of my mouth already starts to lift. "I mean, maybe I took it down a notch, you know, and maybe, just maybe, that was a little bit because of you," I mumble. "You did teach me a thing or two."

Clarke leans in for a quick peck on my lips. "Thank you," she winks, "That's all I wanted to hear." She rests her forehead against mine. "And for the record, I'd never call you weak. You're the strongest warrior, the strongest woman I ever met. A soft side doesn't bite strength, you know. It only adds to it."

A small sigh escapes me, telling me I'm quickly losing self-control. I close the distance between us. With our lips already brushing against each other, she quietly continues, "Plus it makes you look adorably cute."

"Ugh!" I grumble, abruptly taking a step backwards. "That's it. No more kisses for you!"

Bursting into laughter, she shakes her head. "Only making it worse, dear," she grins. "Only making it worse."

I want to keep muttering, but her laugh is too contagious. I can barely get out a "Shut up!" before cracking up as well.

"Alright," I giggle as soon as I can form any words again, "Let's just move on!" and we both know I don't mean that just figuratively. Both still smiling widely, we continue our way, well aware that we can't afford ourselves to linger.

"Maybe that was the thing though," Clarke muses after a few minutes, now almost sounding like she's simply thinking out loud. "With Octavia, I mean. She'd lost it all, just like Luna had, except for the urge to do good. To be fair. And although that's a great intention, it's not easy. Especially when you're alone. And she was. She had no one to fight with." She takes my hand, lacing our fingers together. "No one to fight for."

I give her a soft squeeze. "Sounds lonely."

"Yeah, it does," she sighs, before suddenly changing her tone again. "Wouldn't call it an excuse for turning into a bloodthirsty dictator though. And that's—in the end—the question we're dealing with right now: who are we going to wake up when we get to the ship? Octavia... or Blodreina?"

With her question hanging in the air we keep walking, sometimes in silence, sometimes while sharing updates about our lives, but walking nonetheless. The sun is already high in the sky, and telling me we must be getting close, when I decide it's time for that other question.

"So, tell me..." I start, as I try to ignore the sudden nervous twitch in my stomach, "Has there ever been anyone else?"

I force myself to look at her, to smile. I need her to know that I understand, no matter what her answer is.

She mirrors my smile, yet with a hint of melancholy, then slowly nods. Just once.

"For a little while, yes," she admits. "Niylah... kom Trikru."

"Another Grounder?" A soft chuckle escapes me, releasing some tension I was holding within. "I guess you have a type."

Not able to hide her pink cheeks, she joins my laughter. "Can you blame me?" she grins, and I can't, just like I can't deny that she never looked any cuter.

The moment quickly passes though. With her face turning all serious again, she continues, "We weren't together, or anything. I wasn't... we weren't in love." She swallows. "After I lost you, I was... broken. I could barely function. Yet I felt like the whole world was looking at me, like everyone counted on me. First there was Alie, then Praimfaya. It never stopped. Niylah was my break. My moment to breathe, to just be me. She accepted me, took care of me, kept me sane... but never asked me for anything in return."

"I'm glad she was there for you," I tell her, and I mean it.

"I care a lot about her, I really do. She got me through it. But she was a bandage, she was there to stop the bleeding."

As if on cue we both stop walking. She looks at me again, and as our eyes meet I nod understandingly.

"Your Niylah sounds like my Jake," I softly smile as my memory goes out to him.

"What happened?" she asks when I stay quiet.

For a second I just keep staring into nothing. Then I clear my throat and look her in the eye. "He died," I shrug. "They all die."

I know I sound bitter. I guess, when it comes to this, I am bitter.

Clarke steps forward and takes my hands into her own. "I won't," she simply states.

I raise my eyebrows. "You still have no clue where you ended up, haven't you?"

"Oh, I do," she sets me straight. She's got a serious look on her face, yet her eyes shine brighter than ever. "I ended up exactly where I needed to be."

"With me?" I murmur, looking away as I suddenly feel a bit shyish. She gently lifts my chin and connects our eyes again.

"With you!" she nods affirmative. "Listen, it took me over a century to get here. I'm not saying I survived worse, cause I simply don't know. But I do know that I don't plan on losing it all again. On losing you again. So dying... nope... not an option."

Shifting from one foot to the other, I take in a deep breath. "You can't say that, you have no i—"

"But I do! And I can! Lexa, I can say that. Don't you see? You told me you would die for me, and even though I hope you never have to, I believe you. I believe you would. Now I'm telling you that I'll live for you. And you have to believe me that I will."

I swallow.

I want to. So badly.

"I changed my mind," I mumble, making her frown.

"About what?"

The right corner of my lip slowly curves, showing her a small grin. "About no longer kissing you."

With her eyes twinkling she takes a small step towards me. That's when I hear the sound.

The sound of a zinging, well-aimed arrow.

... ...