Clarke let her words hang in the air as she stared at Lexa for so long that it bordered on awkward. Clarke didn't intend for her voice to fill with as much venom as it did, the sound even surprised her.

But Clarke wouldn't back down. Not after everything.

Lexa had lied to her in more ways than one and Clarke was tired. She was done. Finished with being some kind of lab-rat, finished with being forced to do things for other people. She was done with not being in control, done with not knowing anything and not being told anything that could help her to understand even a fraction of what her world now was.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Clarke stepped forward, her hands balled into fists and she spat her words at Lexa with as much anger and frustration as she could muster.

Clarke stared at her, she felt her lips twitching into a snarl as she started moving towards Lexa even more and she didn't know what she was going to do, she didn't know what she would say next or what her life would become. All she knew was that she was angry, tired, exhausted, more frustrated than she had ever felt in her entire life and the only person, the only thing, the only being in her presence in that very moment was the one who had caused it, who had played with her, toyed with her, tormented her every waking moment ever since crashing down to the ground.

"I asked you a question," Clarke snapped. She stood at the foot of Lexa's throne with her balled fists resting on her hips, her feet shoulder width apart as if she were the one who owned the tent, as if she were the one who was in control.

The pointed thud of Lexa's knife confidently stabbing into her throne's armrest interrupted Clarke's anger, the glint of the blade in the candle light made her squint a fraction and Lexa's legs uncrossed slowly.

Clarke didn't move though. She wasn't going to be the one to back down. In that moment she didn't care that Lexa was probably the only one who could help her people survive.

Lexa rose from her throne, she stepped towards Clarke, the distance between them close enough that either one could have reached out and grabbed the other if they so desired.

But Lexa didn't reach out, just as Clarke didn't.

Instead Lexa looked at her with something close to inquisitiveness within her eyes. It lasted a fraction of a second before she pushed past Clarke and walked to her table with the map strewn across it.

That dismissal of Clarke's presence made her bristle and Clarke turned, she started following Lexa as if she was going to interrupt her, as if she was going to reach out and grab her arm and yank her back but before Clarke could do that, before those thoughts even fully formed she stopped, if only because she remembered how Gustus had acted, how he had treated Lexa and Clarke didn't care if that had also been a ploy. She wasn't like that so instead she let out an exasperated sound and moved to the other side of the table, leant forward and braced her palms on the wood surface as she pinned Lexa with her mightiest of stares.

Lexa looked at her from the other side of the table, her head cocked to the side ever so slightly.

"Well?" Clarke asked. She almost snapped at Lexa but she managed to reign in her annoyances. At least enough that she would keep her head for the time being.

"You are well in your right to be angry with me, Clarke," Lexa's voice was crisp, calm. Steady.

Clarke had expected Lexa to snap back at her. Perhaps reprimand her for even deigning to speak to someone clearly of such high stature for Clarke was sure Lexa was one for pageantry or dramatic flair simply because of the lies. And yet Clarke was faced with a simple statement that lowered her guard and tempered her angers just a little.

Her eyes narrowed though. She could tell there was more that Lexa wasn't saying and Clarke had spoken enough. She had tried to reach out to the false Lexa in the hopes of building a connection so if Lexa wanted conversation to now flow then she would be the one to make it so. Clarke thought that only fair.

Clarke pinned Lexa with her gaze, she made sure not to let her focus shift. Lexa stared at her too, and Clarke hated the way Lexa's eyes bored into her, she hated the way Lexa seemed content to let the silence settle around them as if it were a familiar friend.

Perhaps once upon a time Clarke would have found the silence, the awkwardness and the confrontation too unpleasant. But after spending almost a year in solitude she was more than happy to embrace it just as much as this Lexa seemed to be embracing it.

Clarke wouldn't back down. She wouldn't break first, she wouldn't let Lexa get another victory over her in any kind of way. She let her nose crinkled just a little to show her displeasure and Clarke was sure she glowered far more childishly then she should but she had long since stopped caring about decorum or what was polite or right or expected of her.

"Clarke," Lexa said and this time her voice was softer, gentler. But only just a bit. And yet it was enough for Clarke to feel herself the victor, at least for the time being.

Clarke kept looking at Lexa for a moment longer and as she did she realised she was trying to search Lexa's face in the hopes of finding something familiar. She didn't know why exactly she was doing that, perhaps some part of her wanted to claw back who Lexa had been to her. Perhaps some part of her wondered if the woman in front of her was that same person she had met in the bunker.

And it felt foolish. It felt pathetic, even to her, that she tried holding onto a memory of someone she had only just met, who she barely knew.

But that memory had been a comfort even in the short few moments Clarke had shared. So it hurt. Probably more than it should.

"I did not know if I could trust you," Lexa's voice was softer still as it spoke out to her from across the table.

Clarke's gaze refocused on her and she found Lexa's face to be softer, perhaps a little less guarded, a little more like the person Clarke had first met. But Clarke felt her own walls rising a fraction lest this be another ploy.

"Why?" Clarke asked, her voice a little softer than it had been moments ago. But only just a little.

Lexa looked down at the map upon her table and Clarke followed her gaze to find herself staring at a small wood carving of what she assumed was Mount Weather. She thought she recognised the river and some of the forest that was drawn atop the map. Or she was being too presumptuous.

"The Mountain," Lexa said. "There was a time when we were enemies," Lexa continued and pointed to it. "For generations we were in conflict until we were not."

Clarke blinked slowly as Lexa's words settled within her mind. She was missing information, that much was clear. Things had happened, things that she needed to know.

"Why were you in conflict?" Clarke asked.

Lexa's gaze moved from the map and up to her. There was intensity behind her eyes but also regrets and losses and something close to sadness. Or that's what Clarke told herself because whatever she thought she saw disappeared as soon as it even began to exist.

"A misunderstanding," Lexa said with a simple nod.

"And why couldn't you trust me?" Clarke asked. "Why couldn't you just be honest?"

"Those with tech have a habit of using it without thinking of the consequences," Lexa answered her with such conviction that Clarke almost didn't push the subject.

But she wanted answers.

"What consequences? What misunderstanding?"

Clarke also began thinking about what Lexa had said earlier in the room. And she tried understanding more, tried figuring it out. Lexa spoke of saving as many as she could, she spoke about sacrificing the rest.

"Where are the survivors?" Clarke asked into Lexa's silence.

"Living amongst my people," Lexa answered.

"And they're not using our technology to help you?"

"No," Lexa's eyes narrowed.

Clarke chewed her lip as she started thinking about everything Lexa said. It was obvious Lexa's people didn't use technology, it was obvious Lexa was reluctant to explain what had happened because she didn't trust Clarke not to make whatever same mistakes the survivors in Mount Weather made.

Clarke sighed. She pushed off from the table and stared up at the roof of the tent as if she were expelling her frustrations out into the air around them.

"Clarke," Lexa's voice was a little more firm, a little more sure as it reached out to her.

"What?" Clarke looked back at Lexa. She didn't care that she was being rude. She was done with the niceties for the time being and Clarke most definitely didn't miss the way Lexa's eyebrow lifted a fraction at her response.

"The ripa you saw earlier," Lexa said.

Clarke shivered at the memory before nodding her head.

"Yeah?" Clarke had wondered just what that was for it had seemed a little too human.

"It was once a member of Ton DC," Lexa said.

"What do you mean?" Clarke asked.

"That is why I pretended that I did not speak english, Clarke."

Clarke just shook her head and leant over the table again, Lexa not answering wasn't lost on her.

"My people would prefer your death. Your people's death, Clarke," Lexa said. "If they could not be sure you would not usher forth another disease."

"Another disease?" Clarke asked.

"Ripa," Lexa said. "It is a disease that spreads. It was created by tech and I ensured no more disease could be created."

Clarke didn't understand. At least not everything. But she understood enough.

"I need to speak to my people," Clarke said. "I need to get higher up the Mountain so that my radio can speak to them directly," Clarke looked away in thought for a steady moment before continuing. "I don't care if you say no. I don't care if it's dangerous. I'm doing it. I'm not letting everyone down," she shook her head.

Lexa was quiet in response and she stared at her with calculation behind her eyes and Clarke could tell Lexa was thinking of more than what she had just said. But what exactly was lost on her. And yet it didn't matter. Maybe once her people were down on the ground things could be different. Maybe they could try to reach some sort of agreement.

Clarke knew there'd be complications, that much was obvious. Whatever disease Lexa was talking about needed to be taken seriously but Clarke was sure with technology and all her people's resources that they'd be able to deal with it. Or at least get a better understanding of it than whatever Clarke could come up with.

And yet Clarke thought about the original inhabitants of Mount Weather—

"Where are they?" Clarke asked. "The people who used to live in Mount Weather?"

"They now live in the capital," Lexa said.

From her tone Clarke could tell Lexa wasn't going to offer any further information but Clarke didn't care for the time being. She'd need to contact her people as soon as she could gather her supplies and…

But Clarke stopped her train of thoughts as she looked up into the roof of the tent only to sigh as all she saw was thick fabric, candlelight flickering and shadows that danced this way and that.

It was close to nightfall. She'd never make it back to Mount Weather or her drop pod and up high enough on the Mountain's side to make contact. She'd need to wait until the morning and that made her face scrunch up in frustration.

She knew everyone counting on her would already be fearing the worst. She knew her mother would be worried sick, she knew her friends would be panicking and she knew plans would be getting made to throw caution to the wind.

But it would still take time. That much Clarke was sure of. At least it could wait another day. Clarke sighed. She took in a steadying breath and she tried to smooth out her frustrations lest she say some undiplomatic.

"It will be dark soon, Clarke," Lexa said as if she had read her mind. "It would be foolish to try and make contact with your people in the dark."

Clarke unfortunately agreed.

"Eat, I will have food brought to us, then rest, gather your strength then I will have warriors escort you up the Mountain."

"I—" Clarke didn't know what exactly she wanted to say. Part of her wanted to throw Lexa's offer in her face just because she felt like being a touch stubborn but more of her actually did want to eat and rest and sleep and pretend like everything was ok.

She had no idea how to handle any of this. She had no idea what she was supposed to do. She hadn't felt like she had really had a chance to breathe properly for an entire year and any time that she had thought peaceful had been broken by a mad dash away from a crazed gorilla, stuck inside a bunker with a woman who had toyed with her or been face to face with a civilisation of peoples that she had no idea how to deal with.

Clarke didn't realise she had somehow come to sit in a chair she hadn't even noticed until she slumped and hang her head as she stared at the fur carpet of the tent. She didn't realise how tired, how tense, how exhausted she was heard another chair be pulled up as Lexa slid into it elegantly.

"Gustus," Lexa's voice called out.

Clarke looked up to find that same man stick his head into the tent, his eyes narrowed a fraction at her that Clarke was more than happy to return with a much more obvious glare.

"Please bring us food, broth with the dipping bread," she said.

"Sha, Heda," Gustus said before ducking back outside.

Clarke let the silence hang around them for a moment longer as she let herself not think of much at all.

"What does it mean?" Clarke asked suddenly.

She watched Lexa's head tilt to the side as if she were asking Clarke to clarify.

"Heda," Clarke said. She didn't care that her pronunciation was probably off a bit.

"Commander," Lexa answered.

"Commander?" Clarke echoed Lexa and she fund herself looking at her a little more closely. Clarke truly didn't think Lexa was much older than her. But she supposed she must have been, unless… "are you a queen or something?" Clarke asked. Perhaps Lexa was royalty and that explained it.

There was a subtle twitching of Lexa's lips before she answered her.

"There is a Queen," Lexa said. "But she does not rule the Coalition."

"I see," Clarke waited a fraction of a second to see if Lexa would continue but she didn't. "So you command, what?" Clarke really was pushing it, now. She wasn't stupid. She knew Lexa had to be important in some kind of way and her speaking the way she was probably wasn't doing her any favours but until Lexa told her off Clarke was going to press.

"Everything," Lexa answered her.

"Everything?" Clarke asked.

"The Coalition of all twelve clans," Lexa looked at her with more open intrigue now.

"Aren't you a little young to be Commanding everything?" Clarke asked.

"The Commander's spirit has been passed down from Commander to Commander," Lexa said and her tone made it sound as if what she said was a simple fact of the world.

"Ah," Clarke frowned. "I see."

She didn't. But that didn't matter for the time being.

And so both women fell quiet. And it was awkward. Not so comfortable. Clarke found herself taking in everything she saw within Lexa's tent. There were trinkets, what looked like weapons and armours laid out on the far side of the tent. Clarke even stared at the throne that seemed as uncomfortable as it did foreboding and impressive.

Thankfully the approach of feet broke the tense quiet and Clarke turned to the flap as she heard Gustus call out. Lexa answered him before the man ducked inside with a platter of food. Clarke watched him carefully as he approached and put a bowl of soup and a small plate of bread in front of Lexa before doing the same for her. And then he left without a word.

Clarke looked down at the soup in front of her. It almost seemed rustic. There was a warmth and depth to the colours swirling within the heat. Little morsels of what she thought to be meat drifted upon the heat and Clarke could even see spices and things she couldn't identify dancing together within the bowl.

It didn't even seem that long ago that she had eaten but with the soup in front of her and the scents already filling the tent Clarke felt her mouth begin to water and her stomach begin to growl.

"Here," Lexa's voice was slightly cautious as she spoke.

Clarke looked up to find Lexa gesturing to the plate.

"The soup is salty," she said. "The bread will help."

Clarke began reaching out slowly for the bread. She didn't know why she was being cautious. She didn't think this was some kind of trick or poison, but for some reason now that she knew, or thought she knew, who Lexa was, she was keenly aware of who she was eating in front of.

Clarke continued to look at Lexa only to find her already breaking her bread into smaller pieces before dipping them into the soup. And perhaps that was all it took.

Clarke started mirroring Lexa's motions and as she brought the first piece of broth soaked bread to her lips she tried not to make too embarrassing a sound. Whatever flavours had soaked into the bread unlocked something in her and Clarke moaned. The bread was soft, pillowy against her tongue. The crust hard, crunchy with a sharp bite that seemed so foreign, so strange, so normal. They had something close to bread on the Ark but it was hardly real. It could hardly compare to what she was currently eating and Clarke decided to throw her annoyances aside.

She was hungry.

She was always hungry.

And so she decided to sate that hunger without caring.

Clarke ate. She ate hard, she ate fast and she didn't care about how it looked. The soup was heady, warm, rich. The bread filled her belly and Clare dared not stop lest some cruel twist of fate pulled the food away from her before she could finish it.

But just with everything else good, Clarke's enjoyment of the soup ended with one last dab of one last piece of bread into an empty bowl.

She took a moment to chew and swallow before she sat up and glanced at Lexa. The other woman's bowl was almost finished, the knife she had been caressing on the throne lay to one side, the weapon clearly used to cut the bread more easily.

Clarke probably should have felt embarrassed but she really couldn't bring it upon herself to care. Maybe in the morning when she woke with fresh mind and less stubborn childishness she'd let herself regret her behaviour but for the time being Clarke was content to just let things be the way they were.

But perhaps she could say thank you for the food.

"Thank you," Clarke said.

Lexa simply inclined her head a fraction and smiled. Or at least that's what Clare thought the twitching of her lip was.

Clarke sighed at that thought and tried not to let herself turn too sour. But perhaps while she still had some of her bravado that she could already feel beginning to fade she could confront Lexa one last time.

"It wasn't nice," Clarke said quietly. And maybe what she said seemed childish but truthfully she couldn't think of a better way to say what she wanted to say. "I thought we could have been friends," she said and looked at Lexa across the table. "I just needed help," she said.

Lexa didn't respond immediately. Clarke didn't even know what exactly it was that she wanted to hear from Lexa, maybe a recognition that what she had done wasn't kind, that Lexa knew it hurt her feelings or something else. But Clarke wasn't dumb. She knew things on the ground were different. That much was clear. So perhaps it shouldn't surprise her that she was the naive one.

"I know," Lexa's voice was more open then Clarke had since their first meeting. "I am sorry, Clarke."