Chapter Text
They call her a soothsayer.
Lexa learns of her first by another name: skaiheda. The first small contingent of Sky People hits the ground and changes everything she thought she knew about the ways of this world. In the early reports, Lexa learns that those who have invaded her land are only one hundred strong, many of them children, many of them apparently naïve and unskilled in combat. Still, they are invaders, and she also learns they have been warned as such. In response, the Sky People set fire to a trikru village. Lexa sends Anya to conquer the threat, trusting that her old mentor will handle the matter in the same way Lexa would. After her confrontation with their leader, messengers report that the Sky People are commanded by a blonde woman known as Clarke.
They also report that she greeted Anya by name.
Lexa wonders at this, but she is forced to disregard her curiosity as the violence between their peoples escalates. Soon enough, 300 of her most vicious and capable warriors – the Raiders – are dead, reported to have been burned alive at the command of skaiheda. Lexa’s heart aches at the news, and aches at knowing Anya died amongst them, but she has no time to grieve. She learns that this small group was but a scouting party. They seem to simply disappear into thin air, and before she knows it, more Sky People have fallen from the heavens.
Then, she hears of the massacre in Tondc. She knows the invaders must be stopped before they can cause more destruction to her land and her people. It is time to call upon the armies of the Twelve Clans.
Lexa musters the warriors of the Coalition as quickly as possible. Still, it takes time for them to gather. Even before she begins her march, the rumors start to trickle in that her own people have begun flocking to the Sky People’s camp. Not scouts or warriors, but traders and spinsters and blacksmiths – persons of all walks of life. Lexa is stunned. Why would the most vulnerable of her people do such a foolish thing?
“There is a young woman among skaikru,” the messenger kneeling at her feet answers. “The villagers told me she knows the future. They seek her out for the answers to their troubles.”
“Impossible.” Lexa’s response is immediate. “None can tell the future.”
But the messenger only looks up at her with an earnest expression. “She knew my name before I gave it, heda. She knew that I would come back to you.” He pauses, his gaze dropping to his feet. “I learned only this morning that my son came into this world stillborn. Two days ago, she told me it would be so. I know not how else to explain this, heda.”
Lexa knows in her heart that there is no such thing as future sight. This woman – whoever she is – has somehow tricked her people into believing her lies. Perhaps it is through one of the many unknown practices of the Sky People. She knows not the answer to this dilemma. She only knows it does not matter. Skaikru has brought about nothing but grief. They have invaded her lands and killed her people, and they must be stopped at all costs. They have massacred her people needlessly, and are no better than the Mountain Men.
Yet, when she arrives at Camp Jaha, she cannot deny what her own sight tells her. A large gray structure towers into the sky, encircled by a crackling wired fence. The Sky People mill about within the boundary of their camp, and outside of it, Lexa’s own people are gathered. Hundreds of tents sprawl out around the fenced border, but there is no fight raging here. Instead, people – men, women, and children – from what can only be dozens of backgrounds mill about. Lexa swears she can even see members of ouskejon kru amongst them. They are eating, drinking, laughing, trading, all but celebrating.
Though she would never admit it aloud, Lexa is simply baffled by what she sees. The Sky People have harmed her people so much. What is this?
Not really knowing what else to do, Lexa settles her army atop the large hill overlooking Camp Jaha, in plain view of both the Sky People and her own. Lexa sends two of her men on horseback down to the gates. As they approach, there is a buzz of activity within the perimeter of the fence, as if she has kicked an ant hill. Dozens of Sky People muster at the inner border of the fence with guns, even as the fanfare outside of it grinds to a halt.
She watches as the messengers slowly pick their way down the hill and through the crowd of people and tents. Her people gather and follow carefully after them, sending furtive glances up at her Coalition army camped above them. Questions are asked of both sides, but to their credit, Lexa’s messengers seem to be focused on the task at hand. They are met at the gate by a contingent of what seems to be a small group of guards and leaders. Words are exchanged for several minutes before the messengers wheel their horses back around and begin to slog back through the crowd of people. Together, the two of them return to the hilltop and dismount in front of Lexa.
“Heda,” one of them says. “The leaders of the Sky People have requested to meet with you in peace talks at their camp.”
Indra scoffs and states the obvious, “As if. If they wish to meet, it will be outside of their camp.”
“What of all… this?” Lexa demands, motioning to the crowd of hundreds gathered at the base of the hill.
The other messenger shakes his head, bewildered. “These people are bewitched, heda. They claim there is a young woman among Skaikru who can look forward in time. They call her Aftaimgeta, Knower of the Future.” He pauses, then carefully continues, “Heda, she matches the description of the original skaiheda.”
Lexa exchanges a troubled glance with Gustus. This is the same hearsay she has been receiving for days now, but this mysterious seer being Klark kom skaikru is news. By what means are she and the other Sky People making her people believe this outlandish scheme?
“Return to skaikru,” Lexa instructs the messengers. “Tell them there are no peace talks. They have done enough damage and harmed enough of our people that war is the only answer here. The have until tomorrow to leave this land.”
They hesitate. “What of our people, heda?”
Lexa gazes out over the conglomeration of tents surrounding the Sky People’s camp. “Tell them the same. I will not let a conspiracy change my decision.”
As the messengers pass this information along, Lexa commands her army to settle down and prepare for a siege. War tents are pitched. Torches and campfires are lit. As Lexa’s own tent is placed behind her and her throne erected, she carefully watches those camping below. As the sun crosses the sky, there appears to be many discussions among the Sky People. There are arguments, and at one point what Lexa can only assume is a short panic before most of them retreat into their metal coffin, leaving only warriors with guns behind, but they do not leave.
Similarly, there are many arguments between Lexa’s own people camping at the base of the hill, but unlike the Sky People, they seem to recognize the very real threat the Coalition army poses. They douse their fires and collapse their tents. By the time the sun has set on the horizon, many of the congregation have departed. But when Lexa emerges from her tent the next morning, she notes with dismay that nearly half of the outer camp still remains.
“It will be difficult to get past their guns and fence in such a bare space,” Gustus remarks at her side as they gaze over the valley. He gestures to their people still camped at the base of the hill. “What will we do about them, heda? Our own people stand in our war path.”
Lexa bites her lip. The last thing she wants to do is harm her own people, and yet… “They were told of our plan to attack. They had their chance to depart. Instead of listening to their Commander, they have chosen to cling to the lies of the invaders. We cannot let this stop us.”
It is then that a sudden cheer arises from the mob surrounding the fence. The people surge forward as a blonde woman emerges from the metal coffin and approaches the two messengers Lexa has left camped at the gate. While one messenger fends off the crowd, the other exchanges words with the woman through the fence. Eventually, the messenger mounts his horse and rides back up the hill towards them. He must force his way through the crowd, which now clamors for the woman’s attention. As she begins to speak to them individually, the messenger comes to a halt in front of Lexa and dismounts.
“Heda, the leader of the Sky People wishes to meet with you for peace talks.”
“We already discussed this,” Lexa growls. “There will be no peace talks.”
“She tells me she will come up here alone,” he insists, “without guard or weapon.”
That statement gives her pause. Not only that, but the messenger’s expression is troubled. He looks deeply unsettled.
“What else did she say to you?”
“She knew my name, heda,” the man replies quietly, his face ashen. “She knew my houmon’s name, my nontu’s name, and the name of the village from which I hail.” He swallows hard. “She even knew the name of my gapa, and how many kill marks I carry upon my back.”
Lexa stares at him. Even she knows not all of these things. Hel, she can hardly remember the names of most of her warriors, much less where they hail from or the names they give to their mounts. What tek do these Sky People have that allows this aftaimgeta to know so much?
“Very well,” she finds herself saying. “Bring her here. I will meet with her.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Indra and Gustus looking at her with wide eyes. The messenger nods shakily to her command and mounts his horse before galloping down the hill once more. As he does, Lexa whirls and strides into the war tent.
“Are you sure about this, heda?” Gustus asks as he ducks into the tent behind her. “This woman clearly has some black magic which allows her to charm others to her side.”
“That is why you are here, Gostos,” Lexa replies as she settles into her throne, “and you, Indra. I want to meet with this aftaimgeta and see her so-called fortune telling myself, but I also wish for her to understand that I will not cease until skaikru is dead or gone. You are both here to ensure I do not become her thrall.”
She only receives two nods in return. She pulls her dagger from her sheath and begins to fiddle with it. Not only has she found it to be a good intimidation tactic, but it will help ground her should this witch’s magic start to take hold.
Several minutes pass before there is a commotion outside. Gustus steps out to meet the Sky People’s leader. He sweeps the tent flap aside, and through the opening, Lexa glimpses that same crowd of her people baying for aftaimgeta’s attention. A line of Coalition warriors pushes them back and a pretty young woman with blond hair steps into the war tent, escorted by Gustus. She approaches the throne as Lexa twirls her dagger in her hands.
“You’re the one who burned 300 of my warriors alive.”
Lexa raises her gaze up to look at this Klark kom skairku, this skaiheda and aftaimgeta. As her eyes meet silvery blue ones, a strange look passes over the blonde’s face. Her eyelids flutter for several long moments. When her gaze refocuses on the Commander, Lexa expects to see anger or nervousness - perhaps even fear in her expression. Instead, she sees only a look of such horror and despair that it chills Lexa to the bone. Even Gustus and Indra shift uncomfortably on either side of her.
Clarke’s lips part and a single tear trickles down her cheek. "Leksa."