Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Clarke Griffin jolts awake, gasping for air as she pushes sweaty strands of golden hair off her face. Her breathing is ragged and uneven, and she can feel her nightgown clinging to her body from the cold sweat that covers her skin. She quickly glances at Madi’s sleeping form and lets out a small sigh of relief, glad that she at least hadn’t woken up her daughter. 

Laying back down, her heart aches at the memory that haunted her dreams.

Blue eyes lock with green as a deafening sound rings out and the smell of gunpowder fills the air. Lexa’s eyes go wide with shock, her eyes darting towards her abdomen as blood starts to seep through her shirt. When their gazes meet again, Lexa collapses onto the floor.

“Help me get her to the bed!” Clarke cries, her heart beating erratically as fear spikes into her.

Titus, who had been mumbling unconsolably, snaps to his senses. He lifts Lexa up and lowers her onto the fur. Pushing him aside, Clarke immediately applies pressure to the wound. She wishes with all her might that this is just a bad dream and that soon enough she’ll wake in Lexa’s arm. Yet the strong metallic smell and the sight of her hands drenched in black blood are enough to know it’s not true.  

As Lexa struggles for breath, Clarke croaks, “Don’t you dare give up. I am not letting you die.”

Her heart pounds hard in her chest as blood starts to pool on the bed. Too much blood. Without the proper tools, there is little she can do. As the realization sinks in, agonizing pain rips through her.

“Ai gonplei ste odon.”¹ Lexa whispers.

A lump forms in Clarke’s throat and she feels her eyes sting with tears. Closing her eyes, she prays to whoever is out there to save the woman she loves. To give her a miracle.

“Klark.” As she meets her gaze, she feels Lexa’s cold hands cover her own. “You were right Klark. Life is about more than just surviving.”

“May we meet again.”

It has been over 6 years – no, if you wanted to get technical, it has been over 131 years – since Lexa’s death. Over the years the loss, once heart wrenching, has transformed into a dull ache, amplified at times at the mention of her name. Tonight however, it seems like the wound is ripped anew. Every emotion she felt that fateful night washes through her, pain pounding at her door as if trying to remind her it’s still there. Dormant, but there. 

She could hear how her voice quaked as she whispered the Skaikru’s rites. She could feel how her hands which were drenched in Lexa’s blood stuck to the furs on the bed. She could taste Lexa’s soft lips as she finally said her goodbye. 

She knows sleep will not return.

Letting out a harsh sigh, Clarke wipes the tears that threaten to fall down her cheek and shakes her head to clear away the image. Pushing herself off the bed, Clarke steadies herself on her feet, slowly making way towards the open window, her clothes and skin prickling as the light breeze hits her. When she reaches her destination, she is greeted by two suns that currently paint the sky in soft yellow and orange hues. The town is quiet, save for the sound of insects. For a moment she lets the scenery wash over her, relishing in the small respite from the memories that threatened to tear her apart.

‘Wonder if you would have liked it here Lexa?’ she muses.

As her mind starts to drift towards the inevitable darkness that followed after Lexa’s death, a glint of brown hair catches her eyes. Clarke’s brow furrows as she watches Raven making her way towards Ryker’s machine shop. It’s been over 2 months since they’ve landed in Sanctum, and every day Raven can be found hunched at a desk fiddling with several scraps of metal. Her work is a mystery to the blonde. In Clarke’s defense, she had tried to ask her about it, but was only greeted with cold shoulders. Out of everyone that had awoken from cryosleep, Raven was the only one that refused to forgive her for what she did back on Earth. To be honest, Clarke’s doesn’t think she deserves it. 

However, it doesn’t stop her from getting dressed and following swiftly after the brunette.

The soft clink of metal reaches Clarke’s ears as she rounds the corner towards the shop. As she approaches the door, she suddenly halts. To her surprise, Jordan’s leaning over Raven’s shoulder, bouncing anxiously on the balls of his feet.

“Relax Jordan, I’m putting the finishing touches and then it’s good to go.” Raven says.

“I know, I’m sorry. I just want to make sure it’s perfect.” Jordan replies. “What if Delilah –”

 “She’s going to love it.” Raven says, cutting in. As an afterthought, she quips, “If she hates it, she can take it up with me and I’ll promptly kick her ass. Or make her some glasses because she clearly can’t see well.”

Clarke watches the interaction with a smile on her face. If only Monty and Harper were here to see how quickly their son had grown in these few months. From the way he is describing Delilah to Raven, she can tell that he loves her. He moves his arms energetically as he illustrates, in painstaking detail, how he plans to surprise her. Raven clearly amused with the situation keeps nodding politely while attempting to put the final touches on the necklace.

Clarke feels her heart tighten as she realizes she never had the chance to give Lexa a gift. If they had more time, she imagined she would have given Lexa one of her sketches. Plus some candles for good measure. It seemed like she really liked them.

Suddenly feeling like an intruder in their conversation, Clarke starts to slowly back away. Before she can slip unnoticed, a pair of eyes reaches hers. Raven’s jaw clenches, her eyes narrowing as she stares at Clarke. For a second, Clarke thinks she’s about to get yelled at, but instead Raven sighs.

“What are you doing here Clarke?” she asks quietly.

“Couldn’t sleep. Thought going for a walk would help clear my mind. It’s beautiful by the way.” Clarke says, pointing at the necklace in Raven’s hand which she now saw was a calla lily.

Glancing down at her creation, Raven gives Clarke a curt nod and a murmur of thanks before carefully placing the necklace in a small velvet box and handing it over to Jordan. Pushing herself off the chair, she exits the space, leaving the two of them in an awkward silence. ‘At least she didn’t yell at me.’ Clarke ruminates. ‘Progress.’ 

“Um… Good morning Clarke. Are you attending the Naming Day festivities?”

Clarke bristles at this question. How could she forget? For the past week the habitants of Sanctum spoke of nothing but the festival. According to their leader, Russell Lightbourne, the day marks the return of Priya, a member of one of the four original families (known as "The Primes") that colonized Sanctum. Delilah, Jordan’s girlfriend, would be receiving her name. 

Pursing her lips, Clarke remembers asking the people about the ceremony and what it meant, but all she got in return was less than satisfactory replies. It was enough to drive Clarke crazy, but she had to remind herself not to pry. ‘I hope we do better there.’ That’s what Monty said. If people seem happy here and are leading a peaceful life, who was she to question their beliefs and traditions? If the Grounders can worship an AI chip, couldn’t the people of Sanctum worship the Primes as if they were Gods?

“Clarke?”

Waking from her thoughts, she says without skipping a beat, “Of course. Wouldn’t miss it.”

After Jordan excuses himself to go spend time with Delilah, Clarke finds herself alone again. Her mind wanders back to Lexa, and she can’t shake the feeling that the dream had somehow been a sign. Not wanting to think about it any longer, Clarke decides she might as well get ready for Naming Day if only to keep her mind busy.

***

Nightfall is fast approaching as people start to make their way into the town square. With the opening ceremony long gone, people are now getting ready for the real fun. Or so Clarke was told.

“So… did you observe the four pillars of Sanctum?”

Clarke turns at the sound, spotting a grinning Bellamy making his way towards her. His outfit, dark and edgy, is a strong contrast from the warm hues that the townsfolk seemed to favor.

“Oh yeah. Repent. Renew. Rejoice. Rebirth. It’s my new motto.” Clarke deadpans.

Bellamy chuckles as he stands next to her. “I can see that.” He says, pointing at the sweat and grime that marred her features. “Were you trying to be rebrown as a gona²?”

“I just had a lot on my mind.” Clarke answers flatly. “Training helps.” 

“Ok.” Bellamy says, an undercurrent of concern lacing his voice. “Everyone is getting ready for the closing ceremony. You should too.” 

Clarke only nods. They quickly lapse into silence before Bellamy makes his way back to his temporary house to get ready. Once he is gone, Clarke lets out a long sigh. Sitting roughly on the ground, she tries to shake out the tension in her body. Despite working her muscles to exhaustion, her mind is still whirling. She tries not to think of Lexa. She tries not to ache for her. She implores herself to stop. ‘You’re gone. Dead. It’s been years.’ she curses. ‘Yesterday I was fine. Why is today different?’

She startles at the voice suddenly shattering her train of thought. “Clarke?” Madi whispers, blue eyes staring at her as she takes a seat next to her.

“Hey Madi.” Clarke says, blinking rapidly to stop tears from falling her face.

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Clarke croaks. She curses the complete lack of conviction in her statement. She adds, “I didn’t sleep very well so I’m just tired.”

Madi stares at her for a long moment before saying, “Lexa is worried about you.”

Clarke balks, not expecting to hear Lexa’s name. The idea that Lexa has been a constant presence throughout this whole day gives her pause.

Taking Clarke’s silence for something else, Madi gently says, “I’m sorry. I noticed you’ve been acting strange today.” She hesitates before continuing, “During my lesson, Gaia asked me to listen to the Commanders. I couldn’t hear anyone else except Lexa. She kept shutting everyone else up and kept trying to ask about you. She wanted to know what’s on your mind.”

Clarke lets out a soft chuckle. She imagines Lexa with her hands clasped behind her back and her spine as straight and regal as ever. Her jaw working back and forth as she glares at the other commanders while she takes control of the discussion. She definitely wouldn’t want to cross Flame Lexa.

“To be honest –“

“There you are. Look, everyone is already dressed and waiting for your highnesses to lead them to the ceremony. Can you two please go get ready so Emori can finally let me drink?” Murphy says, swinging both hands in the direction of their house. He looks at them expectantly, not caring that he clearly interrupted their mother-daughter discussion.

With an apologetic look to Madi, Clarke lets out a long sigh and says, “Sure Murphy.”

***

The palace entrance is packed with people, the burning torches casting a warm glow on the leaders in front of them. Delilah is already kneeling in front of Russell, her beautiful white dress fluttering slightly with the wind. Clarke grins as she notices Jordan beaming at his girlfriend. As Delilah rises, her attention is brought back to Russell’s speech.

“You have been chosen like each of us to receive the great miracle of Sanctum. Do you accept this honor?”

“Yes, holiness. I do.” Delilah replies with a slight quiver in her voice.

“Very well. Then come forward and be so named.” Russell announces as all the Primes step back, creating a walkway.

Moving towards her destination, Delilah suddenly falters in her steps. Ignoring their expectant gazes, she dashes back towards Jordan, giving him a long kiss before whispering something in his ears. With a sad look in her eyes, she turns around and disappears through the door, leaving Jordan befuddled. Clarke purses her lips, her mind trying to make sense of what she had just witnessed.

“What was that about?” Bellamy questions, but Clarke only shakes her head. 

Suddenly she feels a soft poke on her shoulder. Looking behind her, her breath hitches roughly in her throat as she finds herself staring into warm green eyes.

“I noticed you and your friends didn’t have any paper lanterns. I brought you some so you can participate in the ceremony. Just write down your sins and when the time is right, we light them up and release them.” The girl says softly as she holds up several paper lanterns and pens.

Clarke gapes, completely stunned in front of the girl. Her heart feels like it has jammed itself somewhere between her ribs and her throat. Her body feels paralyzed. The brunette’s brow furrows as Clarke makes no attempt to take the lantern from her possession.

Madi steps forward and subtly clears her throat before replying, “Um. Thank you.”

Handing the items off to Madi, the girl gives her a small smile. “You look familiar, do I –“ she starts, but the girl has already turned around and disappeared into the crowd. “Weird.” Madi mutters under her breath.  

As she starts to pass the materials to their friends, she notices that Clarke hadn’t moved one bit. Shifting closer to her, she murmurs, “Clarke. What happened back there? Are you okay?”

Before Clarke can begin to formulate an answer, the doors suddenly open and Delilah, or now Priya, saunters through, regale in her posture and wearing a completely different dress. The crowd starts to cheer as the guards flank to her side.

Once the crowd settles, Russell announces, “It is my great honor to present Priya. 7^th of her line.” 

“Hallowed be her name.” The crowd replies in unison.

With a quick light of his torch, Russell begins to set the rest on fire. “And now through fire we purify Sanctum and release our sins.”

As if on cue, countless lanterns start to float up into the night. The lights dancing like fireflies amongst the canvas of the night sky. The scene is breathtaking, but Clarke is completely oblivious of its beauty. All she can see is the bright green eyes of the brunette that had stared back at her. As the lanterns start to zap through Sanctum’s protective force field, creating a pseudo firework, Clarke can only think of one thing. 

“Lexa.”

Chapter Text

The music is pounding in her ears and she can feel the vibrations of the bass coursing through her body. Sipping mindlessly at her drink, she glances towards the dance floor where countless bodies sway to the beat. She wonders what they had to do to earn a coveted invite to this exclusive party. As guests of the Primes, Clarke and her friends were fortunately all invited. Madi was as well, but there was no way she was letting her daughter attend this kind of party.

As she continued to survey the scene, her hope of finding the girl with green eyes is slowly diminishing. All night long she had attempted to find the girl, if only to apologize for her complete lack of social skills.

“Great job Griffin.” she mutters under her breath taking a large swig of her drink.

Her attention is quickly pulled to her right when cheers suddenly erupt. Bellamy and Echo are high-fiving one another as the couple in front of them down their drinks. They appear to be engaged in some sort of drinking game and from the looks of it, they won. Her gaze continues to wander until it lands on Murphy and Emori, both dancing seductively with one another. A slow smile spreads over her lips as she looks at the couple clearly in love.

“Can I get you another drink?”

Peeling her eyes off the dance floor, she turns towards the person who inquired her and finds herself in front of a rather handsome looking guy. Gazing down at her half empty glass, she quickly swallows its content, feeling the liquid burning down her throat.

She smiled at him. “Sure.”

Next thing she knows she’s on the dance floor swaying her hips to the beat of the song. Her new dance partner is eagerly pressed against her backside moving in perfect sync. Clarke already feels quite buzzed at this point, teetering towards the edge of drunkenness, and she knows she should stop. As the pounding beat gives way to another part of the melody, she excuses herself from her partner to head towards the bathroom. She weaves through sweaty bodies until she makes it to her destination.

Closing the door behind her, Clarke leans against the wall and takes a deep breath, trying to compose herself. She stares at her reflection, noticing her frazzled hair and slightly blown pupils. Flattening her blue strapless dress against her skin, she begins to freshen up and decides she should probably head to the bar to grab some water.

As she starts to make her way through the crowd, she suddenly stumbles sideways as a force collides with her shoulder. Trying to maintain her balance, her head whips around to glance at the source of the impact and give them a piece of her mind.

“Hey! Watch where you’re –“ Clarke stops and swallows when blue eyes clash with green. Standing in front of her is the girl who she has been looking for all night.

Before she can say another word, the girl murmurs sorry and hastily makes her way towards the exit. Pausing for a slight second, Clarke grits her teeth. 'I'll be damned if I lose her again'. With a renewed sense of purpose, she follows her outside.

“Wait!” Clarke exclaims as she’s hit with a slight breeze that leaves her warm skin tingling.

The girl pauses and turns. For the third time that night, Clarke’s breath hitches in her throat. She’s not sure if it’s the alcohol or if it’s because of the girl standing in front of her, but suddenly she feels like she can’t breathe. A wave of dizziness racks her body and her vision blurs. As Clarke stumbles forward, the girl rushes towards her, long fingers holding her arm to steady her.

“Breathe.”

Clarke draws in a long deep breath. In and out. In and out. Her vision clears just enough for the girl to swim back into focus. After a few more breaths, the girl, confident that Clarke can stand on her own, moves backward.

“Are you okay?” she asks, concern written all over her face.

Clarke, in an attempt to keep some of her dignity, replies “Yeah, I’m so sorry about that. It was really hot inside and… you know… drinks…” She waves an arm aimlessly, feeling slightly flustered at her inability to string words to create a proper sentence. As the girl chuckles, Clarke takes the opportunity to really look at her.

At first glance, Clarke could have sworn she was Lexa. Her eyes are the same shade of green and her chiseled jaw, high cheekbones and plump lips are so similar that it made her heart skip a beat. As her eyes trail up and down the brunette’s body, she notices that they also have the same body type, although perhaps she's not as toned.

The first noticeable difference is her hair. Her hair is a dark brown like Lexa’s, but it's longer and has soft streaks of blonde running through it. She is also about 1-2 centimeters taller and her skin tone a tad bit darker than Lexa’s. If they hadn’t been born on separate planets or in completely different centuries, she would've probably thought they were sisters. Feeling a small twinge of disappointment, she bites her bottom lip at how surreal this all seems.

The girl squirms, blushing slightly at Clarke’s persistent gaze. “Do you want to sit?” She gestures towards a nearby bench.

‘Oh, and her voice is also different. A bit raspier.’ As the girl continues to stare at her expectantly, Clarke snaps back to reality. Remembering her manners, her gaze shoots back up to green eyes and she replies, “Sure.”

As they settle onto the bench, it only takes a second before Clarke blurts out “I’m so sorry.” The girl peeks curiously at her before Clarke adds, “I don’t even know your name.”

The girl smiles before replying, “Alexandria. But you can call me Alex.”

“Alex.” Clarke repeats, tasting how it feels to say her name and finding out that she likes it. “I’m Clarke. The weird one that clearly needs to learn some social skills before integrating into Sanctum’s society.” ‘Dammit, why did I drink all of those damn drinks.’

Alex chuckles softly, “It’s okay, you have the benefit of not being from here, so who knows. Maybe your actions are totally acceptable back on Earth.”

Clarke smirks and nods, “Yes, my social skills are unparalleled.” As she glances back at Alex, she sobers up slightly. “But I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. You just remind me so much of someone from back home.” She mumbles quietly, her heart twinging with sadness.

“It’s okay.” She says as the expression in her eyes soften with understanding. “This person must have been really important to you. It mustn’t be easy to see someone that reminds you of the one you lost.” 

Clarke startles when she feels a tentative hand on top of hers. As Alex gives her hand a gentle squeeze, she feels a strange sense of calmness. It washes over her, warm and comforting, and she feels herself finally relax. After everything that happened today, she relishes this moment of peace.

Flashing Alex a small smile, she can't help but wonder how lucky she is to have ended up here.

*** 

So damn tired. That’s all Clarke can think of as she sits listening to Jordan speak – well, not exactly listening. He had unceremoniously pulled her out of bed earlier this morning and she was still feeling rather bitter about it.

“There’s something wrong. She didn’t recognize me!” Jordan shouts as he slams his fist onto the table.

At the sound, Clarke closes her eyes. She groans as her brain pounds against her skull and she cruses all the drinks she consumed the previous night.

“Looks like someone had fun last night.” Murphy murmurs as he nudges her with his shoulder.

Clarke sucks in a sharp breath through her nose and fights the urge to roll her eyes. Glaring at him, she says with an exaggerated huff, “I’m just tried okay. I only got like 4 hours of sleep.”

The memory of last night jumps forward at the words as she recalls exactly why she barely slept. She had spent the entire night on the bench with Alex. To Clarke, the appearance of this girl was shrouded with mystery, and she wanted nothing more than to discover everything there is to know about her. Fortunately for her, it seemed that Alex was just as equally intrigued by her.

A smile breaks through her features as she reminisces how Alex’s eyes glimmered when she described Earth to her and how she laughed when Clarke recounted stories of Madi. She remembers how she smiled when Alex told her about her childhood and how her heart ached when Alex told her she lost her parents. They spoke until the suns broke through the horizon, the soft hues of orange and yellow breaking the spell that had kept them engrossed all night in one another.

Realizing that she was still very much a part of the conversation, she forces herself to focus on the scene in front of her.

“Dude, you only saw her for a quick second. Maybe she was too busy enjoying being in the presence of the holy Primes to think of anything else. Maybe the fame got to her head.” Murphy offers up, earning eye rolls from the rest of the table.

Shaking his head furiously, Jordan says, “She’s not like that.” As he paces back and forth, he adds, “I tried talking to her last night and she completely ignored me. I knew something was wrong, so when I went there today, I brought her daisies saying it was because she had mentioned it was her favorite flower. She said they were... But she actually loves calla lilies!”

Murphy pouts his lips and nods, “Calla lilies are nice.” He glances at Bellamy and they both break out into laughter.

“I’m serious.” Jordan says, barely-contained disapproval seeping into his tone. “Something happened in the palace.”

Taking pity on the boy, Bellamy pushes himself off the chair and puts his arm around Jordan. “Look man, maybe she just needs time to get used to her new life.”

“Clarke? You believe me don’t you?”

Pursing her lips, Clarke is about to respond before Jordan replies coolly, “I see.” Shaking free from Bellamy’s arm, he glances at each one of them. “If none of you believe me, fine. I’m going to figure out what the hell is going on myself.”

He storms towards the exit, not stopping to apologize when he almost tramples Madi. Raising her hand in mock surrender, she makes her way towards the table, plopping down next to Clarke. “What happened here?”

Rubbing her temples, Clarke lets out a long sigh. “Jordan thinks something happened to Delilah after the naming ceremony.”

“Oh.” Madi says as she bites into a piece of fruit she brought with her. “I heard him talking to Delilah’s mom earlier today. She said something about Delilah becoming one with the Primes and how Priya’s return blesses them all.”

Murphy, who was still sitting next to Clarke, raises his eyebrow. “What does that even mean?”

“It means that they believe in something. And that faith should be respected.” Gaia interjects as she beckons Madi. “Come on Heda¹, you should be training. You mentioned Sheidheda² interrupted your dreams last night, so we need you focused today.”

Sighing, Madi nods her head. “Sha, Fleimkepa.”³ she says as she follows Gaia out.

As she looks at her daughter leaving the room, Clarke can’t help but feel a pang of guilt strike her heart. As much as she wants Madi to be a normal child, she also knows that as the new Commander, she has responsibilities to her people. She only hopes that unlike Lexa, she doesn’t end up holding the weight of the world on her shoulder.

“Who’s Sheidheda?” Murphy questions.

Clarke shakes her head, forcing her attention back to Murphy. “He’s one of the previous Commanders known as the Sheidheda. Through the Flame, he tries to convince new Commanders to turn evil and kill everyone. Gaia is trying –“ Clarke stops. What Gaia is doing, Murphy will never know because she’s too busy staring at the girl that just walked through the door. Her heart speeds up and her eyes go wide with excitement. 

“Anyone order coffee?” Alex grins.

***

“Is it messed up that I like her?” Clarke asks as she tilts her shot glass, feeling the burn as the alcohol slithers down her throat.

Bellamy looks at her curiously before placing his glass on the table, liquid still untouched. “No, it’s not Clarke. You have every right to care about someone new.”

“Even if she looks like her?” Clarke questions, hesitation clear in her voice. “For all I know, they might even be related. I mean, it’s uncanny how similar they look.”

Before Bellamy can even formulate a response, Clarke is out of her seat, pacing back and forth across the room. She thinks of the past 2 weeks that they’ve spent together and says “It’s not just looks. Sometimes even her personality reminds me of Lexa… I mean, she’s lighter, but still…” Her voice falters before she musters the courage to continue, “I don’t even know if this is healthy.”

“Clarke.” She spins around as she feels his hand on her shoulder. Gazing at soft brown eyes, he says, “You deserve to be happy. Ever since you met Alex, you seem like a different person. You seem lighter.” He pauses before he adds with a smile “Happiness looks good on you." 

She purses her lips, her mind still deep in thought. Ever since they met, they’ve hung out every day. Like clockwork, Alex would show up in the morning, coffee in hand and greet her with a warm smile on her face and a new adventure for them to partake in. She is spontaneous and carefree, always willing to show Clarke a new side of Sanctum. She recalls what happened 4 nights ago when everything changed.

After walking all day with Alex, Clarke lies beside her on the ground, staring up at the stars through the treetops. Tracing the different constellations with her fingers, she whispers wistfully, “It’s beautiful.”

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” Alex says as she looks up at the sky.

Feeling her eyebrows furrow, she decides to poke Alex’s shoulder in an attempt to get her attention. As she stares into soft green eyes, she asks, “Why do you say that?”

Biting her bottom lip, Alex’s eyes dart back and forth as if she’s debating whether to answer or not. As she does so, Clarke can’t help but stare at her lips, the air heating and sparking with tension as she starts to feel a familiar tug deep inside her. Before she can stop herself, Clarke murmurs “You’re beautiful. Anyone with eyes can see that.”

Alex visibly gulps, but manages to say, “And so are you Clarke.”

Clarke swallows tickly at the words, licking her lips and letting out a long breath. She yearns for contact, she aches for a comforting touch, the soft press of lips against her skin. What’s messed up is that a part of her wonders if she feels and tastes like Lexa. Her gaze dances from Alex’s eyes to her lips and suddenly she feels herself slowly leaning in.

The kiss is gentle at first, soft lips brushing against one another as if scared that anything more would scare the other away. Their position is awkward at best, each one laying on their backs before Clarke gathers the courage to shift to her side and deepen the kiss. She’s rewarded with a whimper as she feels Alex’s right hand reach up to grab her neck and her other hand grasping at the material of her shirt, pulling her in. The feeling is electrifying. With renewed confidence, she bites gently on Alex’s lower lips, eliciting enough of a gasp for her to slip her tongue through. While their tongues wrestle, Alex’s grip tighten onto her shirt, slowly beckoning Clarke to move her whole body directly over her. Clarke is happy to oblige, pressing her hips down on the brunette while using both hands to keep a portion of her body weight away from Alex.

A quite moan bubbles up from Alex’s throat, her fingers now tangling into Clarke’s hair as they loss themselves into the kiss. As they finally stop for some air, Clarke rests her forehead against Alex’s. “Wow.” She breathes.

“Earth to Clarke. Or I guess Sanctum to Clarke.” Bellamy says with a laugh, waving his hands in front of her face.

Clarke jerks up at the sound, snapping back to reality. As she opens her mouth to reply, she hears a soft voice, “Hey.”

Whirling around, she can’t help but smile as she sees Alex sauntering towards her. “Hey you.” she says.

Alex jumps into the empty seat next to her, snatching Bellamy’s shot glass before swiftly chugging its content. “So what did I miss?”

“You owe me a drink Alex.” Bellamy says as he tries to grab the bartender’s attention.

“My people gave you shelter. It’s only fair that I get some alcohol in return.” she shrugs.

“Quite sure you had nothing to do with that.” Bellamy quips, looking at Alex with his signature smirk.

Before either of them move, Alex reaches over the bar and grabs a bottle. Clarke’s eyes widen as she pours the transparent liquid into both of the empty shot glasses. “If you say so Bell.” She says, mischief sparking in her eyes. “But alas, drink up. We can consider my debt repaid.”

Bellamy narrows his eyes but accepts the drink. Tipping the glass back, he says “Consider yourself free. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to find Echo.”

“You do you.” Alex deadpans. Grabbing Clarke’s hand, she murmurs, “Come on, let’s get out of here before David finds out I stole this bottle.”

“Look who’s the bad influence here?” Clarke jokes as they head outside.

Alex, who continues to tug Clarke along, stops and grins, “Well, I’ve been hanging out with a criminal, so it was bound to rub off right?”

Staring into beautiful green eyes, Clarke feels herself lean forward, giving Alex a chaste kiss. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“No, definitely not.”

***

As she surveys the open area that would house all of Spacekru and Wonkru (including those still in cryosleep), she marvels at how far they’ve come. It took hard work to convince Russell, but in the end, he finally agreed to give them the land next to Sanctum. They would help them set up and in return, Clarke’s people would help them protect Sanctum from those that lived beyond its borders and also give as much food, technology and medical aid they could reasonably spare for the next few years. After they had time to settle, they would negotiate a price to buy the land or agree upon a yearly rent in goods.

“Clarke!”

Clarke turns at the sound of her name, spotting Jordan running towards her. He halts abruptly, hands going to his knees as he gasps for breath. His face is glistening with sweat. “Come with me now.” He gasps. Before she has time to respond, he runs off again.

“What’s going on Jordan?” Clarke says for the 5^th time, her breathing ragged after dutifully following him across Sanctum.

She spots Bellamy, Murphy and Gaia standing in the town square, clearly waiting for them. She quirks her head at the rather random group.

“Follow me.” Jordan says, already striding past everyone and heading towards the palace doors. "It took me 2 weeks to figure out the guards schedule, so we better move now."

The four of them exchange confused looks, and Clarke can't help but feel a little better that she’s not the only one in the dark. Nodding her head towards them, she follows Jordan. As they reach the door, she is about to point out that it's likely locked, when Jordan cracks the door open and slips through. The keypad to the side had been open, wires poking out of it. ‘Like father, like son.’ she muses.

Walking through the door, she feels a strange prickling on her skin. Something about this feels off. She is about to say something to Jordan when she spots him slipping through another room.

“Great.” She grumbles. What she sees next makes her jaw drop. Skeletons. A bunch of skeletons lined up in a circle, neatly facing the center of the room.

“What part about I hate dead people did you not understand.” Murphy deadpans.

Before anyone can respond, Gaia gasps, “The mark of the Flame.” Her hands are running through the back of the skull nearest to her, her fingers tracing the infinity sign. Looking around at the other skulls, she whispers, “They are all commanders.”

“No. They’re not commanders. Although Becca provided the tech to Eligius Three, she created the Flame only after the first apocalypse.” Jordan says. “This way. There’s another room.” he comments as he pushes through a secret wall.

Entering the new room, Murphy scoffs. “Operating room attached to a crypt. Really.”

Dodging the operating table at the center of the room, Jordan heads directly to the computer. He clicks through the files before he spots the video he was looking for. Gathering around to get a better view of the screen, what came next shook everyone to their core.

“Today’s subject is Brooke. Earth embryo 47. Presents with black blood. 21 earth years old. 22 including time in the incubator. If I’m right, the reason all previous metempsychosis trials have failed is because the host’s neuroanatomy was not developed enough to support the file size of a mature human mind.”

As the man removes his gaze from the camera, it reveals a girl strapped to the operating chair. She struggles against the restraints. An older man shifts into view, holding her down as the narrator of the video plunges a syringe through her arms. Her flailing suddenly stops, the substance coursing through her body clearly taking effect. They carefully observe the heart monitor before proceeding.

The men head towards the small table next to the camera and the older man carefully pulls out a white cloth. What he unveils is a transparent blue chip, carved with the markings of the Flame. Forcing the chip down the patient’s throat, they sit and wait.

The girl suddenly jolts up, expression frightened as she attempts to get her bearings.

“Josephine, can you hear me? It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re safe now.” The younger man says, “It’s me. Just breathe.” he coos.

“Gabriel? Is it real, this time?” she croaks.

“This is real.” he assures her. “I’ve spent the last years trying to bring you back.”

Realization draws in her features. “Our memory drives. You reverse-engineered them to upload our entire minds. That’s brilliant!” she beams. “Congratulations, Dr. Santiago. You’ve conquered death.”

Heading back towards the camera, Gabriel tries to smooth his features before continuing, “The key is a fully developed brain. Once the adult host’s consciousness is gone, the mind stored in the drive uploads with ease. Now, we still have loads of tests to run, but so far, Josie’s consciousness, herself, appears to be whole. More soon.”

Once the video ends, the room is filled with a deadly silence.

“They’re immortal.”

Chapter Text

Clarke shifts anxiously from foot to foot, her gaze darting around every direction as she waits for the last ones to arrive. Over in the horizon, the suns are just beginning their descent, casting a warm glow across the vast expanse that will, in the future, house all of her people. It is a beautiful sight to behold, if only it were under better circumstances.

“So what’s this I hear about a family meeting?” 

Turning around, Clarke spots Echo and Raven making their way up the hill, the mechanic wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead as she maneuvers with her bad leg. Noticing the brunette’s labored breathing, Clarke tries to resist the urge to help her, knowing that Raven would hate the look of pity in her eyes. Instead, she stands still and waits, silently cursing herself for making Raven travel this far. As a twinge of guilt hits her, she lets out a long sigh. Now is not the time. Pushing her feelings aside, she strengthens her resolve. They have important matters to discuss.

Bellamy, who had been leaning against a nearby tree, straightens up and goes to stand beside her. “You ready?” he murmurs, his voice only reaching her ears. After she gives him a curt nod, he turns towards the others, his expression turning serious. “Ok, so now that everyone’s here, we need to talk.”

As everyone gathers around the two, Clarke takes a deep breath, her stomach clenching with unease at what she is about to tell them. Staring at everyone’s expectant gazes, she knows that what she says will change everything.

“Buckle up. It’s a wild ride.” Murphy says.

Like dutiful listeners, no one dares makes a sound as Clarke explains what they found hidden within the palace walls. Bellamy and Gaia would sometimes jump in to help, with Murphy butting in only to provide some colorful commentary. She notices how everyone goes through the same rollercoaster of emotions: surprise, horror, outrage, disgust. All the while Jordan stands mute in a corner, slowly clenching and unclenching his fists.

Once she finishes, she lets the story sink in. The silence that settles is thick with tension.

“Wow, so it’s true. They take over nightbloods’ bodies, making themselves immortal.” Emori whispers, her expression a mixture of revulsion and awe.

Murphy quips, “Hey! I told you the whole story on the way here and you didn’t believe me?!”

“John.” Emori says, rolling her eyes.

Breaking his silence, Jordan cuts in, “Why are we still discussing this? We already told you what we found.”

“Well some of us need time to process.” Miller mutters under his breath.

“They killed Delilah!” Jordan spits, his voice dripping with disdain. “And her parents still think that she's somehow alive, becoming a part of Priya. They have the right to know the truth!”

Clarke stiffens, the mere thought of what they did eating away at her. She grits her teeth, bracing herself – and perhaps hatting herself as well – for what she is about to say. “It’s not that simple Jordan. We can’t just go out there and confront them.”

“They’re murderers raising people to willingly give up their bodies.” Raven bites out through clenched teeth. "What’s not simple about that?"

Clarke says nothing, her jaw working back and forth as she ponders the best way to make her case. Her silence only manages to exacerbate Jordan’s anger.

“I can’t believe you want to try and talk this out.” Jordan says, his lips curling with disgust. “I’m not going to stand by while they kill more innocent people. The people of Sanctum need to know they’re worshiping false gods.”

As he makes a move to leave, Bellamy grabs his arms and shakes his head. “Jordan, please listen. We need to be smart about this.” He looks at Clarke for help.

“Don’t pretend like either of you give a damn.”

Clarke’s whole body shakes as she turns to face Jordan. “You think we don’t care?” She asks quietly. “Is that really what you think?” She feels her anger gnawing out her insides, her blood slowly reaching a boiling point as she tries to keep her voice even. “Everything I do, I do it for my people. You think making these choices is easy for me? You think that I also don’t want to go out there and make them pay for what they’ve done? They do this to nightbloods Jordan. Madi is a nightblood. The only other nightblood here besides myself. Do you really think I’m not trying to find the best solution for our people? For my daughter?”

Jordan seems stunned, clearly not expecting such a visceral reaction from Clarke

She pushes on, “We need them. The Primes are the only reason why we’re still alive on this damn moon. Russell is helping us build our compound, Ryker is teaching Raven how to create the radiation shield that will keep our people safe, their people are teaching us how to plant crops. They know their land better than we do, and we need to learn from them if we want to survive.”

Raven scoffs, “So what, you expect us to continue to play nice?”

“The safety of our people comes first.” She defends. “So for now, yes. We need them.”

“No we don’t!” Jordan cries. “We have a little less than 400 people still in cryosleep back at the ship. We can wake them up and help overthrow the Primes!” He says, fire in his eyes.

“So you want war?” Echo asks quietly, eyeing Jordan carefully.

At that, everyone becomes silent. Jordan visibly pales, his eyes tearing as he tries to reply.

Clarke approaches Jordan carefully. “Jordan?” she asks tentatively, voice incredibly gentle. “I promise you that we’ll bring Delilah justice. It may take a while, but I promise you we will. We just need to be thoughtful about this.”

Turning to Raven, she continues, “I’m not defending what they’re doing Raven, not in the slightest.” Steeling herself, she looks at the rest of the group, finally reaching the point she wanted to make all along. “If we confront the Primes now and expose them for who they are, we’ll incite a riot. We can’t win with the people we have now, so we’ll have to wake everyone up. And to do what? To wage a war on the only survivable piece of this moon? Didn’t we already do that back in Shallow Valley? Must we really repeat history?”

“Those who cannot remember the past are doomed to repeat it.” Echo murmurs.

Bellamy glances at her, giving an amused smirk. “Glad you’ve been listening to my history lessons.”

Despite the momentary break in seriousness, silence soon engulfs the group, the air becoming so thick that Clarke thinks she might suffocate. Raven, who had been deep in thought, leans on her good leg and glances from Jordan to Clarke. “Monty asked us to do better. If we need more time to do it right by everyone, then so be it.”

As everyone nods their assent, Jordan mutters sarcastically, “For the glory and grace of the Primes.”

The words ring in Clarke’s ear long after Jordan walks away.

***

“Clarke?”

Clarke blinks her eyes open, her mind slowly washing away the remnant of a hazy dream. She rubs at her tired eyes, rolling her shoulders as she lets out a small sigh. Turning towards the sound that awoke her, she spots Alex leaning casually against the doorframe, wearing a loose black shirt and tight black shorts. The soft morning light that filters through the window casts her in a warm glow. She notices she’s holding a wooden tray, but from this angle she can’t quite see what she carries. As a sweet smell suddenly assails her nose, she can’t help the soft groan that escapes her mouth. Her stomach gives a low growl.

Alex lets out a soft smile. “Someone’s hungry.” she says as she walks towards Clarke, carefully setting the tray down on the bed before climbing on.

Clarke’s jaw drops when she realizes what Alex has brought in. In front of her is the most delicious assortment of food. Different types of berries, colorful fruits and baked goods are all laid out neatly in front of her, the tray adorned with flowers. She feels an overwhelming warmth in her chest at the kind gesture and wonders how early Alex had to wake up to make this for her.

Giving her a chaste kiss, she grabs a pastry and takes a bite. She feels her teeth graze hundreds of paper-thin layers of dough, it’s crispy texture and buttery feel lighting up fireworks in her mouth. As she reaches the center, she closes her eyes and moans as the delicious taste of berries invades her taste buds.

“Oh my god, this is so good. Did you make this?” she asks, the words muffled by the food still in her mouth.

“Unfortunately not.” Alex says, a hint of amusement in her voice. “I went over to Caleb’s last night and bribed him to make them for me.”

Clarke shakes her head and grins. “Well tell him I said thanks.” She reaches out and takes a few berries, popping them in her mouth. “He should really open his own bakery.”

“He can’t.” Alex replies coolly, the mirth suddenly gone from her eyes. Noticing Clarke’s inquisitive look, she adds, “He’s a null.”

She raises an eyebrow. “A what now?”

“A null.” Alex says again. She clears her throat and continues, “A null is someone who doesn’t carry the Royal Blood gene. They’re pretty much discriminated here in Sanctum since they can’t produce hosts. Less hosts, less Primes. They’re not allowed to have children and have pretty limited job options like cleaning toilets or something.” Despite keeping her tone neutral, Clarke should see the fire in her eyes as she says, “He’s not allowed to own a bakery.”

Clarke furrows her brows as she thinks about Caleb. Alex had introduced him to her a little over 1 weeks ago. She recalls a tall man with athletic build, his skin a slightly tanned hue and his eyes a soft grey that matched well with his short silvery beard. They had spent the afternoon talking and she could see that he was a kind and gentle person, someone who cared deeply for Alex. After they parted, Alex told her that Caleb was like a father to her, taking her under his care a few years ago.

“That’s not fair.” she murmurs. A wave of anger rolls through her as she curls her hands into fists. If only she had known about the nulls. She curses herself for not trying to pry harder when they first landed in Sanctum. The more she learns about the Primes, the more she wonders whether she made the right choice of staying put.

“Mmm.” Alex hums with a nod.

They lapse into silence for several long moments, both of them too engrossed in their own thoughts to speak to one another. Clarke’s mind is buzzing. For the past 5 days, she has been trying to grapple with the truth, trying to reconcile who she was with who she’s trying to be. She wants to do better, to be better, but here she is, continuing to let the people of Sanctum suffer while she guarantees the future of her people. Is she making the right choice? ‘At least I didn’t jump straight into war.' she rationalizes.

Feeling soft hands lift her chin, she finds green irises peering inquisitively into her blue ones. “Hey, are you okay?” Alex asks, uncertainty lacing her tone.

She clears her throat, preparing to say yes, but when she parts her lips, no words come out. As she looks at Alex, she feels her heart start to race. At this moment, she wants nothing more than to tell the truth about Sanctum, to ignore everything she told her people to do because of the woman sitting in front of her. Her heart tugs at the thought that with one word, she has the power to flip Alex’s world upside down.

“Alex.“ she starts as she begins to lift herself from the bed. “I –“ 

Suddenly there’s a loud knock. Twisting her body so she faces the door, she loses her footing and collides into the nightstand. The action causes her to crash on the floor, bringing with her a lamp that shatters into several pieces.

As Alex jumps to help her, she shouts, “Who is it?”

“Sorry Alex! I tried knocking downstairs, but no one answered. One of the guards stopped by your house. Cillian’s supplies are low, so he needs you to produce some more salves.” the voice says from behind the door.

“Ok, thanks Caleb. Tell them I’m on my way.” she replies. As footfalls die down, Alex turns her attention back to Clarke. “Sorry about that. Are you –”

She quirks a brow when the girl stops, a small frown appearing on her face. She is about to make fun of her when she notices Alex kneeling wide-eyed before her, face alight with a depth of fear that Clarke had never seen before. “Alex?”

“Your hand…” Alex says, stuttering a little.

As her gaze trails down, she lets out a hard gasp. Black blood oozes out from a deep gash that cuts across her palm. To her right, a nearby shard from the lamp glistens with her blood. The sight makes her stomach turn, and she quickly bites down on her lip.

Cursing her luck, she waves a dismissive hand (with her good one). “Oh… It’s fine. Just a little blood.” she says, immediately standing up in search for a bandage.

Searching through Alex’s drawers, her heart drops when she hears, “You have royal blood Clarke.”

Clarke’s heart pounds painfully beneath her ribs as Alex’s words sink in. A flare of panic sparks through her whole body, her stomach feeling like it’s in knots as she tries to come up with a response. Her mind races with all of the possibilities, but before she can say anything, she feels soft hands grab her arms. Steeling herself, she whirls around.

Alex’s eyes are fixed on Clarke. Her eyes are alert, dancing with a kind of seriousness that reminds her so much of Lexa. Without saying a word, she leans over Clarke and grabs a small green bottle and some other supplies. Pulling Clarke’s hand into her own, she cleans the wound and applies a light salve before carefully wrapping her hands. Once she finishes, the tension that settles is thick in the air. Clarke doesn’t dare move as she waits for the other shoe to drop.

“Listen Clarke.” Alex rasps after a long silence, her eyes sparkling with a quite fury. “Sanctum is not safe for you.”

Clarke bristles at the statement, her jaw suddenly dropping. This is definitely the last thing she had expected Alex to say.

“What? Thought I would start worshiping you?” she asks flatly. Shaking her head, she continues, “Don’t worry, I don’t believe in this nonsense. Plus if I did, that would mean I would have to worship myself which I find a tad narcissistic."

Picking up one of the broken shards from the floor, Alex grazes the edge across her palm, creating a small cut. As Clarke glances at the incision, black blood slowly starts to seep through. Her heart hammers in her chest as she gasps, “You’re a nightblood?”

Alex arches a brow in response. “I’m not familiar with that term, but I presume it’s the same as royal blood right?” When Clarke nods, she resumes, “Then yes, and only you and Caleb know about me. To my knowledge, we’re the only ones left besides the Primes.” She hesitates. “Are there others with you?”

Clarke purses her lips as she contemplates whether or not she should tell her about Madi. Before she can make up her mind, Alex interrupts, “Actually, it’s best if you don’t tell me. What’s important here is that no one can know about this Clarke.” she says, her gaze fierce and determined. “Remember the day when we first kissed? I said beauty is in the eye of the beholder. To most people on Sanctum, they see a utopia. A place where people live peacefully under the watchful eyes of the Primes. To me and a handful of others, we see a corrupt society, one that needs to change.”

Clarke’s heart skips a beat as she realizes that perhaps Alex already knows the truth. 

Grabbing her hand, Alex lowers her voice and whispers, “There are dark things happening in Sanctum, and it’s not safe for people like us. The Children of Gabriel seek to change that. We –“

The two of them jolt at the sound of pounding on the door. “Alex! I’m serious, the guards are getting impatient. One of the kids got hurt so we really need that salve.” Caleb shouts, his voice slightly muffled due to the door.

“Alright!” Alex huffs, haphazardly pulling on her clothes before lowering her voice again. “I need to go Clarke, but please.” she says, tone urgent and eyes pleading. “Please promise me you’ll be careful. No one can know you’re a… nightblood… okay? You can’t trust anyone, especially Russell.”

Staring into bright green orbs, Clarke leans in and gives her a gentle kiss. Pulling slightly back, she nods against Alex’s forehead and whispers, “I promise.”

“And I promise we’ll talk when I’m back.” With a last look of goodbye, Alex exits the room.

Standing in the middle of the now empty room, Clarke can’t help but feel a sudden sense of foreboding. The back of her neck prickles and she forces herself to take a deep breath. Gritting her teeth, she starts to methodically pick up the shards and clean up all vestiges of nightblood, if only to keep her hands busy while her mind tries to process what just happened. Yet when she’s done, she feels no better than when she started.

When she finally steps out of Alex’s house, she nearly jumps out of her skin when she finds herself in front of none other than the leader of Sanctum himself. “Oh!” she exclaims, stumbling back a step as she almost bumps into him. “Russell.”

The man turns and smiles softly at her. “Clarke.” he greets, tilting his head forward. Looking behind her, he adds, “Were you hanging out with Alex?”

“Yes.” she says, trying to keep her voice even as she attempts to hide her bandaged hand behind her back. “She had to go to work though, so I was just leaving.” She makes an attempt to bypass him, but he blocks her path.

“Did you hurt yourself?” he asks, not hiding the concern in his voice. “I can ask Cillian to look at it for you.”

Feeling her blood run cold, she once again curses at how perceptive Russell always seems to be. Keeping her tone light, she replies, “No need, it’s just a scrape. In any case, I should get going now. Madi's waiting for me."

"Of course."

With a curt nod, she ventures on, barely managing to contain the sigh of relief that threatens to escape her. 

Little did she know this interaction would change the course of everything. The small black dot of blood that had soaked through her bandage marking her as a target, the winner of Sanctum's highest honor. It was only several hours later, when she was getting ready to meet Alex, that she realized just what had taken place. As she feels a needle plunge through her throat, she breathes out a silent curse before being engulfed in darkness. 

Chapter Text

Voices stir Clarke slowly from the cloudy edges of consciousness, her brain rebooting from the sleepless slumber she found herself in. She’s laying at an awkward angle, her right side pressed against hard cold metal that seeps into her bones. Her eyes are closed, and she frowns at the odd sensation.

Suddenly, the memory of a needle bubbles to the surface and her chest floods with dread. Someone took her.

Fighting desperately to escape, she tries to move, to do anything, but her limbs and eyes are not responding. Her brain seems unwilling to listen, acting like a goalkeeper tasked at blocking any and all signals from reaching her nervous system. As a flare of panic ignites within her chest, the primal fear fuels her resolve and she fights even harder against the invisible chains that keep her confined. Finally, her eyes shoot open.

Clarke blinks rapidly, her vision clearing just enough for the area to swim into focus. She finds herself in a semi-dark space, an eerie light casting long shadows upon the occupants of the room. Squinting to see who they are, her stomach drops. She’s in the room adorned with skeletons, and unlike before, she’s just as immobile as them. Groaning internally, she spots Russell and Simone Lightbourne deep in conversation. The gears in her mind work furiously through her haze as she forces herself to pay attention to their words.

“Ok, so here’s the math. There are no more hosts and Josie’s still third in line. That means her host won’t be born for at least 35 years, another 21 until her brain is ready. We can wait 56 years for our baby girl’s Naming Day, or we can get her back tonight. All we have to do is kill this innocent girl.”

‘Kill?’ The word hits her like a hammer. She doesn’t want to die. She feels her chest tighten as her heart starts to pound painfully against its ribcage.

Simone stares at Russell for a long time, her hand grasping at the gold pendant that Clarke always sees her wear before she nods her acceptance. Removing the pendant, she opens the locket and reveals a transparent blue chip with the markings of the Flame. She says, “I’ll prep for insertion. You clear the host.”

As soon as Simone says the words, realization sinks in. Struggling frantically against the effects of the drug still in her system, she tries everything within her power – attack, run, scream – to no avail. She is a prisoner in her own body.

Out of all the ways her life could end, she never imagined an ending like this. She thinks back on all the times she could have died but didn’t. She survived 300 of Lexa’s warriors, she survived Mount Weather, she survived A.L.I.E, Praimfaya, the battle for Shallow Valley. All of it to end here. Perhaps this is what she deserves, what Wanheda deserves. It's poetic really. After littering the earth with hundreds and hundreds of bodies, it's only fitting that someone would finally manage to steal hers. It is karma.

Clarke jolts when she notices Russell staring directly at her. “I’m sorry Clarke. I truly am.” he whispers as he reaches her, his face shadowed in guilt. Clarke feels tears tumbling down her face. “Shhh. Please don’t cry. Please.” he says, gentle fingers swiping at the wet tracks on her cheeks. “I promise you won’t feel pain. The mind of the host is erased, but the brain is left unharmed.” Cupping a hand around her cheeks, he rasps, “You’re giving us such a gift Clarke, sacrificing your body so that someone else might live.”

‘Go float yourself.’ she thinks bitterly. Summoning every bit of anger and resentment to the surface, she rages with the ferocity of an animal trapped in a cage, but her body still doesn’t move.

Not removing his gaze from Clarke, he strokes his thumb under her eyes, catching a few more tears. “No more fighting Clarke. Be at peace. A better place, just like you said you wanted.” Placing a kiss on her forehead, he quietly says, “Thank you for this.”

At the words, Clarke’s stomach drops. She fights the urge to scream despite knowing that even if she did, no one would hear. The fight, which had been pulsing through her system leaks rapidly out of her body, resignation slowly taking its place. This is the end. The acceptance comes with a wave of sadness. Her heart clenches roughly in her chest as she thinks of what she’s leaving behind, of the people she’s leaving behind. Madi. Abby. Alex. 

There are so many things she still wanted to do. There are so many things she still wanted to say. There are so many things she knew she would miss. If only she had more time. As the faces of her loved ones swim into view, she feels one last tear escape.

‘May we meet again.’

The words echo in her mind until her world fades away.

***

Sunlight filters through her window, Alex’s eyes fluttering open as the early morning sun casts a warm glow on her face. She releases a loud yawn, cupping her hand over her mouth as she stretches out her body. She rubs the sleep from her eyes. After a grueling day of foraging for plants to concoct her salves, she had hoped sleep would come easily. Unfortunately, luck was not on her side. Her night had been consumed with restless rolling despite exhaustion riddling her muscles and bones.

Dragging herself off the bed, Alex forces her tired legs to carry her towards her window and manages to partially lowers her blinds before collapsing back onto her pillow. As she stares up at the ceiling, she lets out a long sigh. She is tired and confused and nervous and rejected, and she simply doesn’t know what to do. After returning home to a clean room, she had washed the grime and sweat from her body, putting on a fresh pair of clothes before waiting patiently for a certain blonde to come. She had waited and waited, but no one knocked on her door.

Has Clarke changed her mind? Is she angry that Alex hadn’t come clean before? Is she suspicious of her intentions? Those thoughts make her uneasy.

As she lays there, she focuses on her breathing, trying her best to calm the storm of emotions currently tearing her to shreds. She knows there’s only one thing that will give her peace. Lifting herself up, she slips on the first pair of pants and shirt she sees. She braces herself as she walks out the door.

‘Time to face the music.’

After checking for Clarke in her home and the training ground, she finally spots the blonde leaning casually against the tavern’s entrance. Her dark leather jacket stands out against the warm hue of Sanctum’s building. As she makes her way towards her, she notices her talking to Jade, one of Russell’s guard. Alex quirks a brow. It strikes her as odd to see the two of them together, especially since she’s positive they’ve never spoke to one another in the 3 months Clarke’s been here. Shaking her head, she pushes the thought from her mind.

“Clarke!” she shouts, the two visibly jolting at the sound of her voice.

She notices Jade whispering something under her breath, Clarke dipping her head subtly in acquiescence. “Good morning.” Clarke says in greeting once Alex reaches them.

“Clarke. Jade.” she acknowledges as she tilts her head towards each one. She shifts fully to face Jade. “What brings you here?”

“I’m just –“

“Protecting me.” Clarke interjects. “Or so that’s what Russell said. Apparently he’s heard rumors of the Children of Gabriel acting up and he wants to make sure I’m safe.” she replies with a light shrug of her shoulder. “He insisted.”

Alex frowns. “Why would the Children of Gabriel want something with you?” 

“I’m the leader of my people and have been working with the Primes.” Clarke offers as if the answer is obvious. “Better safe than sorry I guess.”

“Okay…” she hesitates, her eyebrows furrowing. That makes no sense. The Children of Gabriel would only target those with Royal Blood and as of yesterday, no one in Sanctum knew about Clarke. A guard would only raise suspicions. She shakes her head. “In any case, can I talk to you?” Her eyes flicker towards Jade before she adds, “In private?”

A flash of annoyance crosses Clarke’s gaze before she replies, “Sure. Lead the way."

Motioning Clarke inside the tavern, she crosses the main section that bustles with busy patrons before entering the adjoining room. Despite being the only ones there, she grabs a table near the corner to ensure they’re far away from preying eyes and wandering ears. Once they sit down, she turns her attention to Clarke, curious blue eyes starting at her.

Alex bites her lip. “I thought you were coming over last night.” she opens, her voice soft and vulnerable.

Clarke looks like she’s studying her, expression unreadable. “Sorry. I had a lot of things on my mind. Needed some time for myself." 

She twists her fingers together in her lap as she tries to quell the fluttering in her chest. “Of course, I completely understand. It’s just -” she cuts herself off, sighing. “I feel like I need to explain myself.”

“Then explain.”

Reaching over the table, she makes a move to grab Clarke’s hand, but immediately stops when the blonde flinches. Her heart squeezes painfully at the motion. Slowly withdrawing her hand, she tries not to think about the way it hurts before she whispers softly, “You can trust me you know. I would never tell anyone you’re a nightblood.”

Clarke quirks an eyebrow. “Right.” she drawls, and Alex can tell by her voice that her interest has been peaked. “No, of course I know that.” she says with a quick reassuring smile. “I’m just worried about the other nightbloods.”

Alex stiffens. She swallows down the lump in her throat and glances around the room. She lowers her voice to a whisper, “I told you Clarke. It’s best that you don’t tell me. And if you do, at least don’t do it here.”

As soon as she says the words, she can’t help but notice the look of disappointment in Clarke’s eyes, the way her shoulders slump as she sinks deeper into her chair. The blonde lets out a long sigh. Smacking her lips, she abruptly stands up. “Well, if that’s it, I really need to go see my mom. I’ve heard she’s still been sleeping with her face in a book.”

Suddenly finding herself at eye level to Clarke’s hand, Alex catches herself staring at a small black spot that seemed to have seeped through her bandage. “Clarke!” she hisses as she jumps up. Grabbing the girl’s hand, she growls, “What are you doing? You know that no one can see this right?”

She flicks a hand as if to dismiss her worries. “Chill out babe. Everything is fine.”

Alex’s mouth falls open a little as she gapes at her words. Did Clarke just tell her to chill out? Did Clarke just call her babe? She frowns. The Clarke she knows would never take something like this so lightly. Her stomach churns. She can only hope that the dreadful feeling flooding inside her is wrong.

Steeling herself, she does her best to keep her voice even. “Of course, Clarke, I’m sorry if I’m overstepping.” Praying that this is all a big misunderstanding, she adds, “By the way, I never thanked you for making me breakfast yesterday. You’re a really great cook!”

Clarke’s lips pull up with a smile. “My pleasure. You deserve it.” With a quick peck on her check, she’s gone.

Standing there, frozen, she feels her heart sink into her stomach. Her eyes burns with tears unshed as she processes what just happened. That was not her Clarke. Her body goes cold as if someone poured ice into her veins.

That was Josephine Lightbourne.

She stands there for a long time, her mind too bogged down to do anything but let itself fall into the abyss. Her heart shatters.

***

“We need to talk.”

Bellamy casts his gaze upwards, his brown eyes reaching hers as he quirks a brow. “Sure. What’s up?” he replies, slowly rolling up the map of Sanctum he had been studying.

Tilting her head towards an empty room, she clears her throat. “In private please.”

His brows furrow in confusion. Giving her a curt nod, he excuses himself from Miller and Echo before following her across the threshold to the next room. Turning to face her, he places his hands on his hips and cocks his head to the side. “What’s so important that it needs to be in private?”

Steeling herself, she tries to ignore the painful pounding in her chest as she stares into dark brown eyes. She knew right after Josephine left that she had to warn Bellamy, that he deserves to know the dark truth behind Sanctum and how it had costed his friend’s life. Drawing in a long deep breath, Alex prepares herself for what she knows will be an unpleasant conversation. She only hopes that by telling him, she can avoid death on both sides.

“Clarke isn’t who she says she is.” she says, swallowing down the lump that rises in her throat.

Bellamy pauses, staring quizzically at her before he scoffs. “What?”

“I know you have no reason to believe me.” she replies, her mouth slipping into a serious line. “But I think someone found out she’s a nightblood.” Ignoring the surprised look on his face, she continues, “Nightbloods are quite rare here on Sanctum and Delilah was the last known one. I think Russell found out about Clarke and took the opportunity to bring back his daughter Josephine. It’s a long story but –”

“You think they used the chip on her?” he cuts in, his expression serious.

Alex gapes, completely caught off guard by his words. “You know about the mind drives?”

He pursues his lips, and she can see conflicted, worried eyes watching her. He stares at her for a long moment as if he is considering his answer carefully. Finally, he responds, “Yes. We broke into the palace almost a week ago and saw what happens to the hosts. We know what the Primes are doing.” He narrows his eyes. “How do you know about all of this? And how do you know that’s not Clarke?”

She lets out a long sigh. That means Clarke knew. Her chest aches with the knowledge that Clarke, who had been listening intently to her that morning, will never know her side of the story. She had spent all night thinking of how to tell her, but instead of a certain blonde, Bellamy will be the one to hear it. Plopping down onto a nearby seat, she motions for him to do the same. He stares at her for another moment, silent, before grabbing a chair and sitting down. With his eyes back on her, she launches into her story, trying to ignore the way her heart tugs at her words. Bellamy’s expression shifts from suspicion to sadness to anger and then finally to denial.

“She can’t be gone.” he mutters, his expression contorted with sadness and disbelief.

She lifts a hand to wipe at the tears that managed to escape. “She is.” she whispers, placing a hand on his arms.

Bellamy shakes her hand away and goes to stand, his posture heavy with sorrow. “I need to see it for myself.” he says, his eyes brimming with tears.

She nods, pushing herself off the chair she starts to walk to the door. “Ok. Follow my lead. We can’t let Josephine know that we know. If she finds out, we’re dead.” Giving him a knowing glance, she adds, “Trust me.”

***

“Clarke’s dead.” Bellamy announces, his lips trembling as he tries to fight the tears threatening to fall down his face. 

Silence envelops the whole group, the air growing thick as everyone lets his words sink in. The room goes dark and cold. Alex notices a few people glance at one another as if hoping the other would jump out and say they were joking. A sick joke, but a joke nonetheless. Yet no one moves.

Clarke. Is. Dead.

A cracked and guttural sob rips out, vibrating through the air. The shrill sound shakes everyone to their core, the heavy roar deafening as it seeps into everyone’s bone. All eyes turn to look at Madi, the girl falling painfully onto her knees as tears tumble down her face. The scene is heart-wrenching. Before Alex even moves, Bellamy runs over to her, his arms slipping around her as he tries his best to comfort the girl.

“What do we do now?” Miller whispers after a long silence.

Standing up, Bellamy turns towards the group, Gaia taking his place near Madi. “We kill them all, and we take what’s theirs.” he says, the steely resolve clear in his eyes. The words fall heavily upon its listeners and Alex feels her heart sink.

“So now you want revenge.” Jordan scoffs.

Revenge. The words sear into Alex’s skin, her heart clenching painfully as she feels her throat close and eyes sting. Even after she told him everything, she can’t believe he would still suggest something like that.

“Is that really what Clarke would want?” Alex asks, her voice quiet and shaky.

Bellamy closes his eyes, his hands clenching in and out of fists as his jaws turns into stone. “You don’t know what Clarke would want.” he snaps, his voice low and deadly.

“I know she wanted to do better.” she fires back. “Killing everyone in Sanctum is not what she would’ve wanted.”

“You’re only saying this because you want to save your people.” Miller adds.

Alex’s jaw works back and forth. Gritting her teeth, she admits, “Of course I want to save my people.” She takes a couple of steps forward, eliminating the space between them as she stares directly into Miller's eyes. “My people are innocent. They have nothing to do with your fight.” She pauses. “With our fight.”

“So you want us to what? Stay here twiddling our thumbs while we know that they killed Clarke?” Bellamy asks incredulously. “Did you even care about her? Did you even care about what they did to her?”

She turns to face him. Anger rips through her body, her body burning with a fire that threatens to destroy everything in its path. “Yes Bellamy, I care. And don’t you dare question my feelings for her.” she says, spitting the words like venom. “I…” Alex tries, her voice cracking roughly at the word. “I care more about her than either you…” she gulps, “or she will ever know.” As she looks at everyone else, she says, “But Clarke is gone, and I need to care for my people. I’m not going to apologize for trying to stop a war.”

Bellamy’s expression softens. “Look, I know you lost your parents in the last war.” he says, his hand extending as if he had been reaching out to touch her before it falls back to his side. He sighs. “But this is Clarke.”

Alex takes a deep breath as she swipes at the tears stinging her eyes. As much as she wants justice for Clarke, she also knows what will happen if she gets it like this. Summoning all of the stories Clarke had told her, she prepares herself to launch her final blow. “So what? Jus drein jus daun¹?” she blurts out, irony lacing her tone. “I thought Monty told you to do better.” she says, as she feels a pang of guilt strike her heart. It was a cheap shot, but she knew it would be effective.

As expected, Bellamy gasps as the words hit him like a slap to the face. His gaze reaches hers, his eyes a storm of emotions that leave him bare and vulnerable. He takes a deep breath, blinking away his tears as he lowers his head.

“She’s right.” Murphy whispers, his hands settling gently atop his shoulder. “Clarke wanted us to do better. I don’t think risking all of our lives for revenge is what she had in mind.”

Raven, who hadn’t uttered a word this whole time, slowly makes her way to Bellamy. “So we’re letting them get away with this?” she asks, conflict clear in her eyes.

Bellamy is quiet for a long time. When he finally speaks, his voice is softer than usual. “We do what Clarke would have done.” he swallows thickly. “We survive.” Everyone’s eyes widen slightly at the statement and Alex's heart twinges with a strange mix of relief and sorrow.

Suddenly, Madi pushes herself off her knees and stands up, slamming her fist hard against a nearby table. Alex sees the look of betrayal in Madi’s eyes, the agony clear in her face as her eyes burn with anger. “They killed Clarke and you don’t want revenge?” she says, her voice a low deadly melody.

Bellamy’s eyes are pained as he turns to face her. “Please Madi.” he whispers, begging for her forgiveness. “Clarke wouldn’t have wanted this. As much as I want to avenge her… I know in my heart she would’ve wanted peace.” he says.

“Clarke would be ashamed of you.” Madi croaks. “Of both of you.” she adds as she glances at Alex. Without another word, she races up to her room, slamming the door behind her.

Alex feels her heart drop, her eyes haunted by the look of disappointment and revulsion in Madi’s face. She feels helpless, unsure that she can do anything to help appease the situation. As she thinks about heading upstairs, she nearly jumps out of her skin when she suddenly hears a soft voice break through her thoughts.

“How sure are you that Clarke is really gone?”

Turning at the voice, she spots Raven staring directly at her, her expression serious. Alex purses her lips. “Unfortunately, quite certain. The mind drive is built to completely wipe the host’s mind so that it doesn’t interfere with the Prime’s consciousness.”

“But it’s failed before.” Raven presses.

“Last one to have happened was over a hundred years ago. They’ve perfected the mind drives since then and have figured out what types of hosts are needed to make it work.”

Raven crosses her arms over her chest, clearly lost in thought. Alex can almost hear the gears in her brain turning, a testament to how furiously Raven seems to be thinking. “What if she’s not gone?” the mechanic murmurs.

“What do you mean?” Emori asks.

“What if the mind wipe failed?” She walks around and waves her arms energetically as she starts to piece things together. “Clarke isn’t like other hosts. She still has A.L.I.E’s chip inside her.” She gazes expectantly at the crowd as if hoping someone is following her train of thought.

“Because we never used an EMP on her.” Bellamy interjects, whispering more to himself than anyone else.

"Bingo." she says with a triumphant grin. 

He takes a step closer to Raven. “So you think it might have interfered with the mind wipe?”

She gives a short nod. “I think it’s a possibility.”

Alex watches the exchange with her eyebrows furrowed. Despite not having a clue of what they’re saying, her heart skips at the small chance that perhaps Clarke, her Clarke, is alive.

“Just to confirm here.” Murphy interrupts as he claps his hands together. “You want to remove the mind drive on the off chance that Clarke is still there somewhere?”

“We owe it to Clarke.” Raven says firmly. “She would never give up on us, even if the odds were stacked against us.” There’s a fire in her eyes as she says the words, and Alex wonders if it is partly fueled by the guilt the brunette must have for never forgiving Clarke. With a renewed sense of purpose, Raven starts to limp towards the exit, motioning Bellamy to follow her, “Let’s go grab Jackson. He’s back at the ship.”

“Wait!” Alex shouts before she can stop herself. As everyone turns to look at her, wide-eyed, she steels herself and lets out a hard sigh. “Jade is tasked at protecting Josephine. Unless you plan on killing her, Russell is going to find out that you kidnapped their daughter to bring Clarke back. You’ll start the war we’re all trying to avoid.”

Raven’s brow furrows but she nods slowly. Licking her lips, she crosses her arms tightly over her chest. “So what do you suggest, Lexa's twin?”

She bites her bottom lip. “The Children of Gabriel.”

***

Madi doesn’t bother to wipe her tears away as she locks herself in her room and falls face first into her bed. She lets a heart-breaking sob wrench free from her throat, her arms wrapping tightly against her pillow as she molds herself into it. She feels the bedding slowly soak with her tears. Here, alone, she feels broken. The thought that Clarke is dead rips a hole in her world, her heart shattering into a million tiny pieces, and she’s not sure if she has the power, or the will, to put them together again.

How can they just let this go? How can they continue living amongst Clarke’s murderers? How can she live with herself knowing she didn’t do anything to avenge her?

White hot anger sparks in Madi’s chest, the rage bubbling up and spilling over. Its power overwhelms the sadness in her heart and spreads through her whole system, fueling the wrath that inflames her heart and darkens her soul. She feels herself retreating behind a harden exterior, walls rising from the ground separating who she is to who she is about to become. She is Madi kom Louwoda Kliron Kru², Commander of Wonkru, and she is will get what she wants. Revenge.

She closes her eyes, letting the anger wash over her before she feels the familiar tug of the Flame, the voices of the Commanders beckoning her to them. She lets out a harsh sigh, bracing herself to face the Commander with bright green eyes who will likely spend the remainder of the night trying to calm her down.

She opens her eyes and finds herself in an unexpected, although familiar space.

Countless candles set on beams of varying heights stand around the room, the wax that drips down contributing to the thick rows of stalactites that cling to the wooden surface. The soft glow that emanates from them casts an eerie light into the dark room, a sense of foreboding filling the air. Despite the numbers of candles littering the room, the room has felt cold since the moment she found herself here.

She looks down the length of her body, unsurprised to find herself in her Commander’s gear. As she gazes up, she spots a hooded figure sitting across from her, his long white fingers fiddling with the chess piece in front of him. Although the man has haunted her dreams for the past 3 months, she finds herself rather calm in his presence. Strange.

As he lifts his head, she stares at his pale complexion, his right eye sown shut and his left cheek featuring several scars that litter his features. “Weron emo noda heda?”³ she demands to know.

“Em bilaid yumi soulou nau.”⁴ Sheidheda replies coolly, a victorious smirk touching his lips.

Madi’s jaw clenches. Gaia had told her that the moment she finds herself alone with Sheidheda is the moment they have to conduct the separation ritual. His presence has gotten too strong, his reach overwhelming the other Commanders. She surprised that the thought didn’t scare her as much as it used to.

“Teik ai gouba raun yu soncha ona sheid. Sis ai meika op.”he says as he extends his hand towards her. “En ogeda yumi na teik daun disha houd, seim bilaid lason.”⁵

She thinks about Clarke. She thinks about Bellamy and Alex and how the two of them just decided what her people should do. Isn’t she the Commander? She feels a renewed sense of anger rip through her, taking residence in her veins and igniting a fire that gets fueled with every breath she takes. She is angry, and she desperately holds on to it as if it is a beacon of light that will keep her from falling apart. 

Ignoring his hand, she stands up, letting her cold hard gaze fall upon him. “Tel ai hana frag emo op ogeda.”⁶

It’s time for Sanctum to burn to the ground.

Chapter Text

Sanctum’s two suns are high in the sky by the time Bellamy reaches the town square, the light stretching over the whole city as people move beneath it. The area buzzes with a quiet and peaceful energy, the occasional burst of shouts and laughter coming from the nearby school. People are busy going about their daily chores. Some carry wooden crates filled with fruits and vegetables, while others sweep the floor or tend to the flowers by the pond. The city runs like a well-oiled machine. Its citizens’ movements create a blur of warm colors as they weave in and out, each one working diligently to contribute their part to society. Regardless of their social class, everyone seems happy, doing everything for the glory and grace of the Primes.

Their sentiment is a strong contrast to the storm of emotions raging inside Bellamy. On one side, he can appreciate the sense of peace that blankets Sanctum. Yet on the other, seeing such blind devotion from these people leaves him uneasy.

If only they knew the truth.

Shaking his head, Bellamy squints his eyes and uses his right hand to cover the bright light that shines on his face. He tries to spot one of his people amongst the crowd but sees no familiar faces. Letting out a long sigh, he makes his way towards the tavern to try his luck, his tired feet shuffling him towards the red french doors to the left of the pond. The place is bustling with patrons. Several people lean against the bar counter to quench their thirst, while others wait patiently in their seats for their mid-day meal.

He groans. His body feels heavy and his mind exhausted. For the past 2 hours, he’s been chatting with “Clarke”, trying to keep her busy under the guise of discussing their compound. The conversation had drained him. It took all he had to pretend everything was okay while also dodging any question that would inadvertently cause him to reveal other nightbloods. Despite his body screaming for him to lie down, he knows he needs to regroup with his people in preparation for tonight. Powering through, he pushes gently through the crowd and is relieved to find Echo, Madi, Jordan, Miller and Jackson sitting in one of the high tops by the corner.

“How was it?” Echo asks when he slides into the chair next to her.

He grabs Echo’s drink and takes a large gulp, letting the cool liquid slither down his throat. “Fine.” he says, voice gruff and tried. “She’s keeping up with the charade.”

Miller sighs and shakes his head. “I can’t believe she asked Murphy for Clarke 101 lessons.” he says, drawing air quotes with his fingers on the last part. When Bellamy quirks a brow at him, he adds with a shrug, “That’s what Murphy called it.”

“How clever of him.” Echo grunts as she rolls her eyes. “She probably realized that she needs to actually act like Clarke if she doesn’t want to raise suspicion and still get information out of us.”

Pursing his lips, Bellamy feels a spark of anger ignite in his chest as he remembers the conversation he had with Murphy earlier this morning. Murphy had told him that Josephine had offered him a deal last night. In exchange for him teaching her how to be Clarke, she would wipe her friends from their mind drives and give them to him and Emori instead. According to Alex, Russell probably asked Josephine to find out who else is a nighblood so that they can bring the other Primes back. Plus it’s likely that he, like them, is just bidding his time so that he can figure out how to get out of the mess he made.

Bellamy takes another sip of water. “She’s smart. I guess she knew Murphy was her best bet. He would never pass up a chance at immortality.” He sighs. “At least he told us about it.”

“Doesn’t matter. He still did it.” Madi immediately challenges as she crosses her arms over her chest. He tries not to wince at the anger in her voice. “Now she gets to continue pretending to be Clarke, we get to continue playing dumb, and Murphy gets his stupid mind drive.”

Bellamy lets out another sigh and presses a hand to his temple. Madi never had the chance to get to know Murphy well, but he had spent months with him on Earth and over 6 years with him back on the Ark to know this wasn’t out of character. Immortality is the ultimate goal for a survivor like him. He swipes a hand down his face and rubs at his eyes. “What matters is that we’re still two steps ahead of her.” he says, giving her a reassuring look. He glances at the rest of the group. “Where is our resident cockroach anyway?” he asks dryly.

“Passed out somewhere.” Jackson replies. “Apparently they stayed up all night together. She told him sleeplessness is common the first few nights in a new host, so she wanted to take advantage of that and learn everything about Clarke.”

“Mmm.” he hums with a nod before he spots a grim look on Madi’s face. Her hands clench in and out of fists. He clears his throat, electing to change the subject. “Spoke with Alex. Cillian is onboard. She just needs to finalize things with some guy named Lucas.”

“Alex’s plan is waste of time.” Madi declares as she slams her fist down in frustration. A couple of nearby patrons’ glance towards them in alarm but she pays them no attention. She huffs out an impatient sigh. “She’s just overcomplicating things.”

He flinches, cursing himself for steering the conversation in the wrong direction. “Madi.” Bellamy says, not trying to hide the concern in his voice. He looks around the tavern and lowers his voice to a whisper. “We all agreed on this plan. We can’t operate in Sanctum and we can’t take the dropship to Eligius IV without asking them to lower the radiation shield first. Taking Clarke to the closest research outpost is the best option if we don’t want to raise questions.”

Madi clenches her jaw. Her blue eyes are alight with fury as she stares defiantly at him. “They can’t ask questions if they’re dead.” she counters, her voice cold and hard.

He feels a shiver run down his spine. A sense of unease sinks into him like a stone, his stomach clenching as he looks into the girl’s eyes, eyes that are so different than the kind ones he had seen just a couple of days before.

“My plan is easier, not to mention faster.” she continues in a matter-of-fact way. She leans forward. “We kill all the Primes, take over Sanctum, and save Clarke here in that operating room where you found out about the mind drives.”

He frowns. They didn’t come here to kill yet another group of people. They came here to do better. “Is that your idea or Sheidheda’s?”

“Who cares if it works?” she fires back as she grits her teeth, a look of annoyance crossing her face. She straightens in her chair and meets Bellamy’s gaze. “We kill one of the Primes and let the guards find the body. They’ll think it’s the Children of Gabriel and probably lock themselves in the Great Hall inside the palace. We’ll be there waiting to take them all out.”

“We’re not killing Delilah.” Jordan hisses, a look of alarm on his face.

“Delilah’s already dead.” she says emotionlessly while she waves a dismissive hand. Ignoring the look of horror on Jordan’s face, she turns towards Echo. “You think it’s a good plan. Don’t you, spy?” she asks, letting her voice linger on the last word.

Echo’s eyes widen slightly in surprise, her gaze flickering towards Bellamy before shifting back to Madi. She licks her lips and clears her throat. “A little aggressive for the situation.” she drawls. “But it could work if we were willing to kill all of their people along with them when they come after us for killing their gods.”

“We are.”

Bellamy’s heart drops when he sees the steely resolve in her eyes and hears the lack of the hesitation in her voice. She just confirmed she would kill innocent people if they got in her way and she didn’t even blink. The thought puts him on edge. He places his hands on her arms, drawing her attention back to him. “No we’re not Madi.” he says, doing his best to plead with his eyes for her to listen to him.

She narrows her eyes, a look of displeasure apparent on her face. “I’m the Commander.” she informs them, her tone laced with every bit of authority her position demanded. He removes his hand. “And you do not get to tell me what to do.”

A heavy silence settles upon the group, everyone shocked speechless at the harsh words uttered by the young Commander. Before anyone can make sense of what happened, she abruptly stands up and leaves, bumping into several people along the way and not bothering to apologize. The room feels cold. Bellamy stares at her empty seat, his heart pounding through his ribcage as he swallows thickly at her statement. A chill runs down his spine.

This cannot be good.

***

Alex stares out at the water, the night air caressing her skin as her eyes follow the slow motion of the waves rolling in and out. The lake glimmers with the reflection of the second moon, its purplish hues bouncing beautifully across the water’s surface creating a kaleidoscope of colors. Despite the beauty in front of her, she bares it no attention. She focuses on listening for any unnatural sounds, but there’s nothing beyond the buzzing of insects and the soft crackling of the fire burning next to her.

Satisfied that she’s alone, she shifts away from the wooden log she’d been leaning against and flops onto her back, drawing lazy circles in the sand. Although she doesn’t remove her gaze from the star-studded sky, all she can see is the image of a certain blonde. She misses Clarke and she feels her heart tug in agreement.

“You should be more aware of your surroundings.”

The deep voice startles her, but she doesn’t move despite her heart pounding rapidly against her chest. She huffs out a hard breath. “By now I’ve learned that no matter how hard I try, you’ll only make yourself known if you want to.”

She hears a soft raspy laugh. “Perks of living in the forest.”

Pushing up onto her elbows, Alex glances to her right and spots Lucas grinning at her. He leans casually against a tree, his long brown hair falling over his hazel eyes and his shallow beard contouring his face. His tall and strong physique is covered by the typical Children of Gabriel garb, a patchwork of tattered clothing built to camouflage him in the woods, along with black fingerless gloves and dark combat boots. He has one hand loosely on the hilt of a beautifully carved knife attached to his hip and another on the strap that holds up the large sword behind his back. If she hadn’t known him since she was a child, she would’ve been exceptionally intimidated by him.

“I got your message.” he says as he settles besides her. He looks curiously at her. “It’s been over 5 years. For you to call, it must be serious.”

She lets out a harsh sigh, pulling herself up into a sitting position. “Unfortunately yes. I need to ask you a favor." 

Lucas quirks a brow, quiet for a moment as he watches Alex. His gaze seems calculating, as if trying to figure out what angle she’s playing at. Finally, he responds, “Ok. What is it that you want me to do?”

“I need you to help me bring someone to the nearest research outpost tonight.” she says, her expression serious. When she receives nothing but silence, she continues, “It’s Clarke, she’s the -.”

He cuts her off. “I know who she is.” When she furrows her brows, he adds, “Cillian told me when I last saw him.” He stares at her for a long moment, intelligent eyes boring into her green ones. “There’s something else isn’t there? You wouldn’t ask for my help just to bring your girlfriend on a tour outside Sanctum.”

Clenching her jaw, she gives him a quick nod before turning away from him and back towards the water. The area now sparkles from the backs of the fish dancing beneath the water’s surface. She closes her eyes and lets out a long sigh. Cillian only knew half the truth, but Lucas would need to know everything since only he knew how to safely remove the mind drive. She would have to tell him about Josephine. Although she trusts him with her life, she also knows that as one of the leaders of the Children of Gabriel, it’s his sworn duty to kill any and all Primes.

He settles his hand loosely atop her knees. “You can trust me.” he whispers softly as if reading her mind. “I owe you and your parents my life. I would never betray you.”

She feels her throat tighten, her heart squeezing painfully at the memory of her parents. Steeling herself, she sucks in a sharp deep breath through her nose. “Right.” she murmurs as she turns to fully face him, grains of sand shifting beneath her. “Josephine is back, and I need you to remove her from Clarke’s head.”

Her response stuns Lucas into a momentary silence, his mouth opening and closing until he hums out a quiet sound of understanding. He braces his hands on his knees, straightening his back before clearing his throat. “Ah. Now I know why you’re asking me to do this.” 

“Yes.” she sighs, her gaze locking into his. “I can’t drag her through this forest by myself. You’re the only one I know that can help who, I hope, won’t kill Clarke in the process.”

“Mmm…” he says, scratching his beard absentmindedly. “Are you sure Clarke’s alive?”

She shakes her head. “No, but she’s different from the rest of the hosts, and she’s important to me.” She feels her heart tighten. “I’m willing to risk everything to try.”

Lucas’s eyes soften at her words, his eyes filled with understanding. He licks across the front of his teeth and shakes his head. “If anyone else finds out I had a Prime, let alone Josephine Lightbourne with me and didn’t kill her, they’ll probably execute me for treason.” 

She feels her stomach curl into knots. “Most likely.” she replies, trying to keep her voice cool and controlled. Lucas is like a brother to her and she doesn’t take risking his life lightly. “Our motto isn’t ‘Death to Primes’ for nothing.” she says in a poor attempt to lighten the mood.

A gruff laugh cuts through the air. “I don’t think that was ever your motto.” he counters, letting a small smile slip across his lips. “What’s the –“ 

Suddenly they hear the faint echo of an alarm blaring through the forest, its sound sending insects flurrying past them. Alex freezes in place, her eyes widening with fear as her blood turns to ice. Her heart pounds furiously beneath her ribs in panic like a caged animal trying to escape.

Something is wrong.

Her body responds without thought, and she feels herself rise. Her feet drag her towards Sanctum as if she is tethered to it by an invisible cord, each blare bringing her closer to her destination. Fortunately, the moonlight that filters through the overhead branches guides her through the forest, allowing her to avoid low hanging branches and fallen tree trunks. She’s so laser focused that she doesn’t even process the shouts coming behind her, Lucas begging her to wait.

Alex only manages to run a couple 100 meters before a bright light encases her and the roar of an engine jolts her back to reality. Before she can even turn to look, she hears the sound of sticks and leaves flying as a motorcycle brakes abruptly next to her. Despite the headlight almost blinding her, she can see Lucas at its helm. 

“Get on!” he shouts, his voice slightly muffled by the black helmet he’s currently wearing. 

As soon as she hops on, he revs the engine and starts to race towards Sanctum’s boarders. The speed forces her to wrap her arms around his waist, her heart thumping loudly as she holds on for dear life. He swerves expertly through the forest, the color of the trees and foliage blurring into one as he zips past them. The alarm’s sound grows louder with each passing second until they suddenly burst through the final row of trees into a moonlit clearing. Several steel pylons spaced equally apart now block their way, each one with a strange blue orb glowing brightly on top and a bright yellow hazard sign emblazoned with the words “RADIATION AREA” beneath it. A strange buzzing now accompanies the shrill sound of the alarm. They have reached the radiation shield that surrounds Sanctum.

She hops off the motorcycle and scans the rows of growing crops and greenhouses that make up the outer field. Noticing no movement, she’s about to step forward when she feels a strong hand settle on top of her shoulder. Lucas, now helmetless, presses his index finger to his lips and points towards the Joberry field in front of them. His eyes are alert. Straining her ears, she hears a faint rustling amongst the crop of berries and gives Lucas a curt nod to show she heard. In response, he passes her his knife and beckons her to crouch behind a bush next to him. She notices his grip tightening around the handle of his now unsheathed sword.

Alex waits and watches as the sound starts to get louder, her heart pounding despite knowing she’s safe on the other side of the shield. Nevertheless, she nearly jumps out of her skin when Bellamy stumbles out of the crops, his face wide-eyed and out of breath as he carries a familiar blonde on his shoulders. Relief washes over her. She rushes towards them, stumbling slightly when she forces her way past the radiation shield, her black blood protecting her as the energy like tendrils try to zap at her. She helps him gingerly set down Clarke on the ground.

“What happened?” she hisses, dropping the knife next to her and kneeing besides the girl. She grazes her index finger across a large red bump on the blonde’s forehead.

Bellamy bends forward and plants his hands on his knees. She can hear his harsh breathing close to her ears. “Madi.” he huffs. He wipes a bit of sweat off his brow. “She killed Miranda Mason.”

Her stomach drops. She recalls how furious Madi looked the night before, hatred burning in her eyes when they told her she couldn’t have her revenge. Guess she managed to kill a Prime after all. Pushing off her knees, she asks, “Is Madi okay?”

“Define okay.” he says flatly, still trying to control his breathing. He stands up and shakes his head. “I’m not exactly sure. Cillian had just taken care of Jade, and we were about to grab Josephine when the alarm rang. We split up. I told him to go to the Great Hall while I took care of her. He was the one with the paralytic shot, so I kind of had to improvise.” he explains, pointing at the blonde’s unconscious figure. “Don’t think anyone saw me though. They were too busy with their Prime Protection protocol.”

“What happened to Cillian?”

They both jolt at the sound and turn to see Lucas standing just beyond the shield, his jaw rigid. “What happened to Cillian?” Lucas repeats louder and clearer. She notices him tightening the grip on his sword, and she moves closer to him in case she needs to calm him down.

Bellamy narrows his eyes and shifts his stance slightly, blocking Clarke’s body from view. He crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t know. I came here directly after I got Clarke.”

The group lapses into silence. Both men stare intently at one another, Bellamy’s whole posture and look exuding mistrust while Lucas maintains an unreadable expression. Shaking her head, Alex is about to tell them to get a move on when she notices Lucas’ eyes going wide. A thud and a loud grunt soon follow. Spinning around, she sees Bellamy on his knees. Josephine has one hand grasping the collar of his shirt and another holding Lucas’ knife with the blade pressed against his throat.

“Bellamy!” she gasps, taking a step forward.

“Ah ah.” Josephine says, pressing the blade so that it just slightly pierces his skin. “Stay back.” She tugs harshly on his collar. “Did you really have to hit me? That was uncalled for.” She looks around her, the gears in her brain clearly whirling as she pieces together what she’s missed. She glances up at the alarm speakers which continue to blast its sound and then lowers her gaze back down to Lucas who stands with his sword at the ready. “Well who is this?” she asks, her expression morphing from menacing to sweet. “You’re cute.”

He clenches his jaw, his hazel eyes a storm of emotions. “Sorry, but you’re not my type.”

She pouts. “Aw. Not into this Ferrari I’m wearing?” Alex feels her blood boil. She squeezes her hands closed into a tight first, trying to fight the urge to punch her.

“No, just not into psychopaths.” he replies coolly. “But come over to this side. Let’s chat and maybe you can change my mind.” he says, forming his lips into a forced smile.

Josephine tsks at him, shaking her head slightly as she lets out a huff of a laugh. She turns her gaze back to Alex, keeping the blade still firmly pressed against Bellamy’s throat. “You know, I admire you guys. I really do. If the other Primes had half your balls, we’d be swimming in hosts and none of this would be necessary. But unfortunately, it is. So I’m going to give you the facts because I really don’t think you thought this through. Clarke is dead. Nothing you can do will bring her back and giving me over to the Children of Gabriel will only start a war with my father. Either -”

“She’s not dead.” Alex says, cutting her off. Her heart tugs in her chest as she holds on to the tiny ember of hope that burns inside her.

Josephine rolls her eyes. “Whatever makes you sleep at night.” she deadpans. “So either you let Bellamy die in a doomed attempt to save the dead, maybe not dead Clarke and start a war with my father, or we stay friends and live happily ever after.” The mocking quality to her voice makes Alex grit her teeth. She continues with a sweet smile, “Take a minute to think it over.”

Alex glances down at Bellamy. She watches his determined eyes bore into hers and sees him give a tiny, almost imperceptible nod with his head. He's ready to fight. His expression grows resolute as he curls his hands into fists. She feels her chest tighten. Although she knows he has a lot more combat experience that both her and Josephine combined, she can’t help but feel scared at the prospect of him fighting with a knife so close to his throat.

Drawing in a long deep breath, she is preparing herself for the strike when suddenly she hears the faint roar of engines in the background. The sound startles everyone. A flare of panic sparks in her chest as she realizes that the guards must be looking for Josephine. She only hopes they’ll look through every row before reaching theirs.

Looking behind her, Josephine says with a smug smile on her face, “Guess your minute is -.”

Whatever she was about to say, she didn’t finish because at that moment, Bellamy slams his elbow against her leg, taking advantage of her momentary distraction and looser grip. The impact makes her stumble backwards, but she retains most of her balance due to the hold she still has on his shirt. The motion though inadvertently causes her to slice a little at Bellamy’s neck. Ignoring the blood that now flows out of his wound, he twists around and tackles her to the ground. Alex races towards them and jumps in, trying her best to avoid the sharp blade as the three of them now wrestle on the dirt.

"Get off me!" Josephine yells, swishing her arms around and aiming kicks in every direction.

Alex feels something slam against her ribcage, the air whooshing out of her lungs as she rolls away to the side. Stars cloud her field of vision. She hears the sound of tumbling and thrashing until finally someone's back slams against the hard ground.

“Alex, a little help here!”

Wincing slightly, she pulls herself to her feet and shakes her head to dispel the wave of dizziness that hits her. When her eyes finally focus, she sees Bellamy straddling Josephine, his knees pinning her arms as he fumbles through his backpack in search for something. His shirt is soaked in his blood and his left hand bleeds profusely. From the looks of it, he must've grabbed the knife by the blade.

Her stomach turns and she tries not to let the sight make her sick. The smell of blood, sweat and dirt assail her nose. “Bellamy." she cries, rushing towards him. "Press your hand on the wound.” she orders as she starts to rip a clean strip of cloth from her shirt. “I need to bandage it.”

He places his hand on top of hers and shakes his head. “No time.” he rasps, his breathing ragged. He shoves a pair of handcuffs in her hands and motions her to place it on Josephine’s wrist.

The sound of engines grows louder. This time coming from the far side of the field near the greenhouses.

Pursing her lips, she proceeds to lock the handcuffs firmly against Josephine's wrist. Helping Bellamy up, the two of them lock their arms around Josephine and hoist her unceremoniously onto her feet. The girl now sports a split lip, black blood oozing from her nose. Alex takes over and starts to drag Josephine towards the radiation shield.

“This is a really stupid plan, you know. If you do this, the Children of Gabriel will kill us both and my father will kill the rest of you. Is that what you want?” she pleads, trying to dig her heels on the ground in an attempt to stop her. She arches a brow, “You know you’ll die if you cross the shield right?”

“Aw, thanks for your concern, but I’ll take my chances.” Alex fires back. She shoves Josephine across the barrier, the girl almost falling on her face before being quickly swooped up by Lucas. She is about to follow her when she hears a soft thud coming from behind her.

She gasps. Her heart clenches roughly in her chest as she spots Bellamy collapsed on the ground beneath a crimson pool. He is completely motionless, his face ashen and his breathing shallow from the large amount of blood loss. She races towards him and falls roughly onto her knees, ripping off the half-torn piece from her shirt and wrapping it tightly around his hand. She looks for another clean strip and tears out another one.

“You do not get to die on me Bellamy, you hear me?” Her bottom lip quivers as she presses the cloth against his neck. The blood quickly bleeds through.

Shouts echo in the distance.

“Alex, we have to go.” Lucas pushes, his tone urgent. He is sitting on his motorcycle with Josephine strapped in front of him, her mouth fortunately gagged by a dark cloth.

She feels her heart drop to the pit of her stomach as she glances between Lucas and Bellamy, the weight pressing down on her with the intention to crush her soul. On one hand lies the most important person in her life and on the other lies a dear friend whose life depends on her. Feeling tears stinging her eyes, she steels herself and faces Lucas.

“I can’t leave him.” she says, her voice thick and coated. “Go. I’m trusting you with her life. Bring her back to me.”

He stands silent for a moment, watching her before he gives her a curt nod. Putting his helmet on, he revs the engine and drives away, leaving Alex with her heart clenching roughly in her chest. All she can do now is hope and pray the guards will find her so she can save the friend who’s slowly dying in her arms.

Chapter Text

“Alex, honey. Wake up.”

The words echo into the distance as the steady beep of a machine and the quiet noise of pen scratching on paper reaches her ears. Their soft sounds morph into a melodic tune. Her mind hums along with the music as her breathing follows the deep and rhythmic beat. Her heart joins the tempo of the melody that just doesn’t seem to stop.

She doesn’t want it to stop.

She feels a warm hand press lightly on her shoulder, the action dulling the sounds around her. A calm voice beckons her to consciousness, but she refuses to open her eyes. Her whole body feels like lead and the simple effort of opening her eyelids seems daunting. Just a couple more minutes, she wants to tell her mom.

Mom…

Alex jerks awake, sucking in a harsh gasp as she unsticks her face from the metal table she'd been sleeping on. Her heart pounds loudly in her chest. Wiping at the bit of drool on the corner of her mouth, she glances around and blinks rapidly in an attempt to adjust to the low lighting in the room. A familiar place swarms her vision. Directly in front of her are 10 hospital beds, 5 of them lined up on each side of the light blue walls with the two on the furthest corners covered by a white partition. To her right is the shrine that adorns all households: a blue placard written “Our all for the glory and grace of the Primes” with the pictures of the 12 Primes surrounding it. In the back of the room is a small sink and 2 large cabinets hidden slightly from view, each one containing an assortment of needles, tubes, and bottles of salve – many that Alex has supplied herself. A sterile smell blankets the air.

She’s in Sanctum’s infirmary.

Leaning back in her chair, she stretches her arms out over her head and feels her muscles pull with the tension and then relax. She closes her eyes and rubs at her temples. Exhaustion weighs on her bones as the memories of the past several of hours cloud her brain. She lets out a long sigh.

The guards drag her into the palace and drop her unceremoniously in front of Russell Lightbourne. Her knees slam against the cold hard ground as the soft moonlight that filters through the window hits her face. The leader of Sanctum stands stoically in front of her with his hands clasped behind his back. He looks pristine and regal in his royal blue robe. Despite his somewhat calm demeanor, she can see the agony dancing in his eyes.

The sight brings her momentary joy.

Knowing what’s about to happen, she jumps up and shoves him backwards, screaming every obscene thought that comes to her mind before the guards manage to pull her away from him. She plays the perfect part of a bereaved girlfriend. Shouting at anyone and everyone who will listen, she accuses him of causing Clarke’s abduction, rationalizing that the Children of Gabriel wouldn’t have thought her valuable if he hadn’t assigned Jade as her bodyguard.

“This is your fault Russell.” she rasps as she wipes at the tears staining her cheeks. “You better hope Clarke’s alive or else...” 

Pursing his lips, he pats down on his slightly disheveled robe and runs his fingers through his short salt and pepper hair. He sits in a nearby chair and motions her to do the same. The 4 guards flank him. Taking a deep breath, she lowers herself onto the seat and finds light eyes fixed on her. She feels like she’s under a microscope, his attentive gaze watching her for any signs that will indicate she is lying. Hopefully her good standing in society and her years of pretending will offer her some relief.

It’s showtime.

Alex’s heart races furiously in her chest as she describes in painstaking details the story she had hammered into her brain while waiting out in the Joberry field. She explains how she and Bellamy were on the way to the compound when they saw a strange figure weaving through the crops. She explains how they had followed him and immediately confronted the man when they noticed that he was dragging Clarke’s body. She explains how they got into an altercation, but that he had managed to injure Bellamy and escaped while Alex went to save him. She explains how it was all his fault that Clarke was now gone.

Never removing her gaze from Russell’s face, she lets everything shine through her eyes and through her voice – confusion, fear, worry, agony, anger. She lays bare her soul. She wants him to experience the torrential rain of emotions coursing through her body and wants to leave him just as drenched and destroyed as she feels.

To her credit, he seems shattered.

When she’s done, she fishes Lucas’ knife from her pocket, her stomach flipping at the sight of Bellamy’s blood splashed across the weapon. The guards hadn’t bothered to search her. As they all start to move forward, Russell raises his hand and nods for her to continue. She swallows thickly. Spinning the blade around, she passes it over to him and hopes with all her heart that he realizes who and where it came from. His eyes narrow. He inspects the item carefully, taking his time to trace his fingers against the intricately carved handle. She sees a flicker of recognition cross his face.

“Lucas.” he whispers, shaking his head. His expression contorts with both anger and disbelief. “If he was able to pass through the radiation shield, then that means he has the blood.”

Ever since Lucas escaped Sanctum over 18 years ago, everyone wondered how he had managed to do it. Everyone, that is, except for her and Caleb. It seemed that now Russell believed he had escaped by himself, his Royal Blood allowing him to cross the radiation shield unscathed. Little did he know it was her parents that took down the shield and saved the boy’s life.

Standing up abruptly, he turns to the Jade and asks, “Did you see Lucas when you were attacked?”

“No, sir. I was able to get a glimpse of Cillian’s face, but I couldn’t see who was with him.”

Her breath catches roughly in her throat when she hears her say Cillian’s name. She feels herself freeze, a loud buzzing invading her ears as her heart pounds roughly against her ribcage. If she saw Cillian, then that means…

“You’re free to go, Alex.” Russell says. “Go rest.”

Before she can respond, they’re gone, loud footsteps echoing in the distance until they fade into nothing. Her stomach burns with dread. She thinks she’s going to be sick.

“You should go home.”

Alex startles at the voice suddenly shattering her trip down memory lane, her head whipping around so fast that she’s surprised it’s still connected to her neck. Rubbing at her face, she sees Abby’s brown eyes burrowing into hers as her forehead furrows with concern. “There’s nothing else for you to do here. Bellamy is going to be out for a while. You need to get some proper rest.”

“So I’ve been told.” She shakes her head and rubs at her tired face. It’s still dark out, so she must’ve slept for only a couple of hours. “I’m fine Abby.” she assures as she pushes herself off the uncomfortable chair. Avoiding the older woman’s gaze, she starts to make her way towards the end of the room, doing her best to soften the sounds of her footsteps on the cold concrete floor. She stops near the two closed partitions and looks to her left. Her heart tightens.

Shaking her head, Alex steels herself and takes a deep breath before stepping to her right. When she opens the curtains, she tries to ignore the tears that sting her eyes. Bellamy is lying down on the bed in front of her. His skin is a greenish-pale color and his eyes are sunken in darkened circles that look somewhat like bruises. He is hooked up to a collection of tubes and wires that run from his arms and his chest, one of them measuring his heart rate while the other supplies him with much needed blood. Despite his ghastly physique, he looks peaceful.

She sits down on the chair next to him and grabs his hand. “You’re going to be okay, Bel.” she murmurs.

“It wasn’t your fault Alex.”

She spins around and looks at the older woman in front of her, her eyes sympathetic as she gives her a sad smile. Alex feels shattered inside. She shakes her head emphatically and lets the guilt in her soul flood her gaze. “I’m so sorry about Clarke.” she whispers, her voice breaking as she presses a hand over her mouth to muffle a sob. “I couldn’t go with her. I couldn’t protect her. I couldn’t keep my promise to you.”

Abby shushes her and kneels in front of her, pulling her into a tight hug as she whispers her soothing words. Her hand weaves through her hair. The action reminds her of when her mom would comfort her when she felt sad or lonely, so she can’t help it when a small smile escapes her lips. Alex collapse into her arms, letting the painful thudding in her heart ease with the warmth of Abby’s embrace.

“You did the right thing by staying with Bellamy. Clarke would be proud of you.”

Alex lets out a small sigh. Although she knows it to be true, it doesn’t lessen the guilt or the fill in the giant hole that now resides in her heart. There’s only one thing that will.

Problem is, that person is nowhere to be found.

***

“You killed him!” Alex spits, slamming Murphy roughly against the wall. She can feel the anger pulsing through her body as she stares at his face.

He lets out a frustrated sigh. “Look, I’m sorry Alex, I really am. Cillian seemed like a nice guy, but I did what I had to do okay. It was either us or him.” He pauses, “And personally, I like my head where it is, thank you very much.”

A tense silence permeates the room. Everyone flicks their eyes between her and Murphy like a silent game of tennis, but the two remain oblivious as they hold each other’s gazes. The air burns thick with tension. Some of the people shift their weight anxiously from foot to foot while others inch their way closer to them in case they need to break up a fight. Closing her eyes, Alex breathes sharply through her nose and lets her hands fall to her hips.

The suns have barely risen and they’re already fighting.

She lets out a long breath and feels all of her energy and anger draining along with it, a twinge of guilt taking its place. Murphy doesn’t deserve her ire. Just because he is the first convenient outlet to cross her path doesn’t mean she has the right to channel her feelings towards him. He made the best choice he could given the circumstances and she shouldn’t fault him for that. His quick thinking saved everyone here.

Raven had filled her in on what had happened. After Cillian left Bellamy, he raced towards the Great Hall and found Murphy and Jordan searching frantically for Madi. The whole area was packed with people. Adults and children alike ran around in every direction, fear clear on their faces as they tried to spot the murderer amongst the midst. Meanwhile the guards were busy trying to herd them away from the room so that the only the Primes remained.

In the chaos, none of them had noticed Madi hidden behind a pillar with a knife held tightly against her side. Her eyes burned with vengeance. As she was about to make her way towards Priya, Jordan quickly saw her out of the corner of his eyes and without thinking tackled her to the wall. Murphy and Cillian were hot on his heels.

Clenching her jaw, Alex can see what transpired as if she were there.

Jordan presses his fingers lightly to his side and feels the warm moisture of blood oozing out of him. His eyes widen with surprise. As he tumbles backwards, he feels someone grab him. The person stumbles slightly at the added weight but manages to stay upright. His vision turns blurry and the last thing he sees is Cillian plunging a needle into Madi’s neck. The girl is rendered paralyzed.

A woman screams.

Murphy shifts his head and sees 3 guards approach them, their staffs at the ready. “Hands where we can see them!”

Struggling against Jordan’s weight, Murphy bites out through his clenched teeth, “A little busy here.” He glances over at Cillian, the man holding Madi gently in his arms, and he feels his heart tighten in his chest. Things don’t look good for them with Madi paralyzed and Jordan unconscious. There’s only one way he can get out of this alive. “Why are you looking at me? He’s the one that just stabbed my friend!”

The guards start to move closer to Cillian and his throat bobs with a visible swallow. “Get Russell Prime.” one of them orders.

Shifting into a fighting stance, Cillian looks like a trapped prey surrounded by his worst enemies. He lays Madi carefully on the ground and sneers at the guards. “You’ll get nothing from me.” he fires at them. He reaches for the knife on his belt and places the blade against his throat, his eyes flickering to Murphy before he stares defiantly at the crowd. “Death to Primes!” he shouts as he makes one clean swipe.

More women scream.

Alex shakes her head and lets the tavern swim back into focus. She sighs. Murphy might have backed Cillian into a corner, but she knew Cillian would only have done that if he thought his death would protect the Children of Gabriel’s cause. She just wished she’d said goodbye to her friend and thanked him for all the years he forged her blood work and kept her safe.

She gives Murphy a curt nod which he returns with a small smile.

“So what now?” Millar says, breaking the awkward silence. He glances around as if he’s searching for someone.

She furrows her brows. She guesses that for the first time in probably a very long time, they are leaderless. Clarke and Octavia are somewhere in the forest, while Bellamy is unconscious in the infirmary. Kane, who she never met, is still in cryo due to the extensive injuries he suffered on Earth and Abby is running the infirmary now that Cillian died. Heck, even Madi is chained to her bed, but she wouldn’t be a viable leader anyway.

Raven steps up. Her eyes are fierce and determined. “We need to do something about Madi.”

“Easy.” Murphy says, finally pushing himself away from the wall. “Just take the damn Flame out of her head.”

“We can’t.” Gaia breathes. “She changed the passphrase.”

There’s a quick pause before Jackson asks, “What happens when we get back to the mothership and she wakes her sleeping army?”

A sickening silence falls over the group as everyone thinks of the few hundred Grounders still in cryosleep back on Elligius IV. They would all follow her blindly, so one can only imagine the horrors that a commander under Sheidheda’s influence could inflict.

Alex’s heart hammers in her ribcage as she does her best to keep the bile from rising in her throat. Her bottom lips trembles. “You can’t let her.” she chokes out, her eyes staring directly into Gaia's dark brown eyes. She didn’t just go through this to let everyone die.

“Yes.” Gaia concedes, her voice pained. “We can’t let her lead them. If we let that thing command Wonkru, he’ll make us long for the days of Bloodreina. Sanctum will be destroyed.”

“What happened to the other commanders in the Flame? They’re still in there, aren’t they?” Raven questions, walking back and forth as she analyses the situation. “But she’s only seeing him, so that means he must’ve isolated them somehow, manipulating the AI to do it.” She pauses and sticks her tongue out between her teeth, deep in concentration. “If the code from the minds of the Commanders can be isolated, maybe it can be deleted.” She turns to Gaia. “Do you have Becca’s notebook with you?”

Gaia’s brows furrow. “Of course.” she replies, producing the book from her back pocket. “But –“

Raven grasps the notebook, flipping through the pages of the old, tattered book. Her index finger runs down each page as she frantically searches for what she’s looking for. Her face falls. “Shit. I can’t delete him while the Flame is still in her head. It could harm Madi.”

She throws the book down, ignoring the affronted look Gaia gives her, and goes to sit in a nearby chair. She looks resigned, covering her hands over her head as she huffs out her frustration. The last spark of hope seems to stamp out from her chest.

Alex pivots helplessly in place and stares at the dejected woman in front of her. “There has to be something we can do.”

Raven glances up from her hands, her mouth half open as she goes to speak before her eyes narrow at Alex. She blink slowly like she's trying to memorize Alex's face.

“Eureka!” Raven exclaims. Miller almost falls out from his chair. “Sorry, seemed like the right time to say that.” She chuckles, pushing herself off her seat to face the room. Her eyes are wide with excitement. “I might not be able to delete any code while Madi still has the Flame, but I can isolate one and replicate it.”

“What are you saying?” Emori asks.

Raven gives her a victorious smirk. “If they can bring Primes back from the dead, then I can bring a Commander back from the dead.”

Gaia’s eyes widen in understanding and she starts to pace around in the room. “Perhaps that could work.” she says, stopping in front of Raven. “There’s nothing we can do about the Flame, but a previous Commander would be able to hold a lot of sway with our people. Especially if it’s a Commander everyone knew and respected.”

“Lexa.” Echo says. She glances at Alex.

Raven nods. “We’ll need to find a way to connect the Flame in Madi’s head with a computer. It would have to be noninvasive since there’s no way of knowing what would happen if we actually force the thing out of her head.” She waves her hands, getting more animated as she starts to lay out her plans. “I can isolate Lexa’s code and transfer it to one of the mind drives Murphy got from Josephine  –“

“Not to put a damper on everyone’s plans, but are you all forgetting that we would need a nightblood for this to work?” Murphy cuts in.

Everyone deflates at his words. The mood, which had been light and hopeful had now turned dark. Alex feels her heart pound roughly in her chest as she contemplates what she’s about to do.

“I’ll do it.”

Heads whip her way, all eyes widening slightly with a few of them outright gapping at her. If the situation wasn’t so dire, she probably would have laughed at their confused expressions. She lets out a deep sigh and removes a pocketknife from her jacket. With a quick prick on her finger, she shows the splotch of black blood to everyone and announces unnecessarily, “I’m a nightblood.”

Everyone seems frozen in place, staring blankly at her hand. Murphy clears his throat and murmurs, “Great. That’s settled then.”

He’s about to walk out of the room when Emori places her hand on his arms, “Wait John.” Her kind eyes find Alex and she whispers, “Are you sure about this? You’d be giving up your life for a bunch of strangers.” She can see the concern in her face.

Alex nods, her eyes betraying nothing. “Madi is on a war path. If she wakes up her army, she will bring fire and destruction to my home.” She swallows thickly. “I can’t just sit idly by, knowing I can do something to stop it.”

“Are you –“

“Yes.” Alex says, cutting Echo off. The quicker people accept her decision, the better. Plus the citizens of Sanctum were about to wake up and they shouldn't push their luck in such a public spot. “You have no more suitable nightbloods and I’m the only one the mind drive will work on.” Staring defiantly at the room, she adds, “I’ve made my peace with it, so let’s go.”

Raven chews on her bottom lip for a few seconds, seemingly considering other options despite knowing there is only one. She looks like she’s about to say something, but when she notices the look on Alex’s face, she stops.

”Ok.” Raven gulps. “Let’s do this.”

Chapter Text

A loud blast ripples across the field, the noise disrupting the typical buzz that often accompanies the early morning air. Workers around the area look up in alarm, confusion etched in their faces. The sound picks up in intensity. Crops begin to sway in their roots as strong gusts of wind crash through them, the force causing some of the harvest to tumble onto the cold, hard dirt. The ground starts to vibrate. Rocks and fallen berries jump up and down like popcorn kernels popping in a pan, while insects try to dodge the new obstacles that now litter their path and scurry to safety.

Unfazed, several guards stand in the vicinity, their long black cloaks billowing with the increasing wind. They’re facing the forest that surrounds Sanctum and have their hands wrapped tightly around their staff. They are on high alert. As they look left and right for any invader that may appear amongst the tree lines, none of them pay attention to the large black ship that hovers over the ground behind them. 

It’s the Gagarin.

When the blue orbs above the steel pylons disappear, the 4 thrusters ignite with full force and propel the dropship high into the sky, leaving scorched dirt where green grass once grew. As soon as it becomes a speck in the vast expanse of blue, the radiation shield is turned back on and the usual calmness that blankets the field is restored to its rightful place. The workers pick up the fallen produce, the guards return to their patrol and the insects go about their business. Little do some of them know that in a couple hours they’ll have to repeat this all over again.

Back in her room, Alex leans against her windowsill and feels her heart ache as she watches the Gagarin vanish into the clouds. This must mean that Abby was successful. In light of Clarke’s abduction and the clear ineptitude of the guards, the woman was going to request permission to wake up Earth’s fiercest warrior to ensure her people had adequate protection. That person was a woman named Indra who also happened to be Lexa’s right-hand woman and the chief of some village back on Earth called TonDC. Pre-apocalypse #2 that is. From the looks of it, Russell must’ve agreed.

He just didn’t know that the real reason they are waking her up is so that Lexa can see a friend and familiar face when she comes back from the dead.

Alex feels a lump rise in her throat. On one hand she’s happy that their plan is in motion, yet on the other she’s devastated that her time on this moon is dwindling. Leaning her forehead against the window, she blows out a long sigh and lets her breath fog the glass in front of her. She doesn’t want to feel like this. Even though she has made her peace with her decision, her heart doesn’t seem to agree. She feels like she’s in a battlefield and her emotions are warring against one another. She’s not sure who will emerge victorious.

“I made the right decision.” Alex assures herself. “Death is life.”

Shaking her head, she turns her attention back to her desk and looks at the empty piece of parchment lying on top of it. Her heart clenches at the sight. Glaring at it as if it has personally offended her, she starts to pace around her bedroom and kicks at the crumpled pieces of paper that she had haphazardly tossed over her shoulder the past 2 hours. Ever since she left the tavern, she has been trying to write a letter to Clarke, but the words always seem to die in her throat.

How can she pour out her heart and soul in a letter that she will never see Clarke read? How can she explain why she’s doing this? How can she tell Clarke how sorry she is? How can she tell her that she loves her but that it is time to say goodbye?

She wants nothing more than to wait for Clarke to come back. To see her once again and to kiss her one last time. The problem is that without any means to communicate with Lucas, she has no way of knowing when that will happen, especially now that Russell has increased security at the border. All she knows is that the longer Madi remains under the influence of Sheidheda, the stronger the hold he will have over her. They do not have the luxury of waiting.

Taking in a deep breath, Alex settles down onto her chair and pulls one leg up under her. She cracks her neck, trying to expel the tension that riddles her body. As she reaches into her desk drawer to grab a new pen – she had thrown the other one out her window in frustration – she feels her hands brush upon something smooth. The sound of crinkling paper reaches her ears. When she pulls it out, she sucks in a sharp breath.

It is the first drawing Clarke ever made for her.

Clarke lays on the grass by the palace, her whole body is bathed in the warm glow of the evening sunlight. Her tongue pokes out of the corner of her mouth as her hand flows fluidly across the surface of the parchment in front of her. The fingertips on her left hand are stained black from the charcoal she holds. Although Alex can’t see what the artist is sketching, she knows deep in her heart that it must be beautiful.  

Excusing herself from the small group of people that surrounds her, she makes her way towards the blonde, trying to ignore the feeling of butterflies fluttering in her chest. It has only been a week, but this girl has somehow managed to sweep her off her feet. As she gets closer, Clarke must’ve heard her footsteps approaching, because soon enough she jumps up into a sitting position and greets her with a warm smile.

“I see you’re putting my gift to good use.” Alex says as she settles down next to the artist. After Madi told her that Clarke liked to draw, she had surprised her that morning with a new set of art supplies.

Clarke laughs, motioning at the small stack of papers in front of her. “You can definitely say that.”

“Can I see?”

At Clarke’s nod, she gently grabs the parchments, flipping through the different sketches she had drawn throughout the day. The palace, the mountains, the people. Each one more beautiful than the other. When she reaches the last one, she feels her breath hitch roughly in her throat. Clarke had drawn a portrait of her. She can almost see the image come alive, her green eyes dancing with mischief as she smiles brightly at the viewer.

“Wow.” she whispers. She places her hand on Clarke’s and feels her stomach flip pleasantly. The blonde has a slight blush coloring her cheeks. “You’re incredibly talented. Did you want to be an artist when you were a kid?”

Clarke shakes her head. “No. This was always just a hobby. Back on the Ark, I was training as a medical apprentice.”

“Mmm.” she hums. Clarke clearly didn’t become a doctor. “And now?”

“I’m not a kid anymore. I’m actually 149.” she deadpans. “I’ve just aged really well.”

Alex rolls her eyes and bumps her playfully on the shoulder. The blonde lets out a soft chuckle. “I’m serious.” she says. “What do you want to do after you finish the compound?”

Clarke is silent for a while, staring at the group of children playing by the swing sets. When she finally speaks, her voice is quieter than usual. “I’m not sure. All I’ve ever done is try to keep my people alive.” She sighs and lets out a shaky breath. “I’m walking into uncharted territory here. None of us know what it’s like to live in peace or how our life is going to change moving forward.”

Alex feels her heart break when she sees the uncertainty reflected in Clarke’s eyes, how those few simple words exposes the apprehension she must feel. Shifting closer to the blonde, she entwines their fingers and lets her thumb rub softly across the top of the woman’s knuckles. A comfortable silence falls between them. She thinks back at what Clarke told her about life on the Ark and on Earth and tries to picture what she must’ve been through. The constant threat of war, killing, and death. She imagines all of the invisible scars that litter her body and the weight of the world she carries on her shoulder. It saddens her to think that this is all she knows.

She squeezes her fingers and locks her gaze with Clarke, letting the fire in her heart fuel the words she knows to be true. “Whatever the future holds, I have no doubt in my mind that your people are in great hands because you’ll be there to guide them every step of the way. You’re their leader, Clarke. Whether on Earth or on Sanctum, whether in peace or in war, you were born for this.”

Clarke frowns at the words. She removes her hand and drops her gaze, chewing her bottom lip like the words reminded her of something that happened long ago. A flare of panic sparks in Alex’s chest as she wonders if she said the wrong thing. Before she can apologize, Clarke clears her throat and asks, “What about you?“

“Uh.” She hesitates, taken aback by the sudden change. “What about me?”

"What did you want to do when you were a kid?”

Peering curiously for a moment at Clarke, Alex decides to shake off the strange moment and instead focuses on how to best address the question. It wasn't that she didn't have an answer. As a kid, she wanted nothing more than to follow in her parent’s footsteps and dedicate her life to freeing her people from under the Primes. The problem was that she couldn’t tell Clarke that – at least not yet.

Taking in a deep breath, she knots her fingers together in her lap and tries her best to be vague. “I wanted to make Sanctum a better place. For it to be more than just a sanctuary, but a place where people could be free." She looks over at Russell playing with his golden retriever, Picasso, by the palace and purses her lips. "Still do for that matter.”

“It looks like a pretty great place to me.” Clarke says as she stares out at the city in front of her. She turns towards Alex and smiles softly at her. “But if anyone can make it better, I’m sure that’ll be you.”

Alex chuckles. "Maybe." She looks over a Clarke, whose eyes almost seem to glow in the evening light. "All I know is that I will never stop trying."

Even after death.

Letting tears stream down her face, she sets the drawing aside and finds a pen at the bottom of her drawer. As soon as the tip hits the parchment, words start to pour out of her like a faucet that has come undone and her lengthy scrawl quickly fills up the piece of paper in front of her. In the end, she is left drained. She lifts up the letter and lets the sunlight streaming through her window illuminate it. Reading the words back to her, she feels her chest clench with sadness. 

With nothing left to write, she reaches back into her desk drawer and removes a single white envelope. Slipping the letter in, she writes in clear block letters “CLARKE” before sealing the note and placing it next to another one labeled “LEXA”.

This is it. Time to enjoy her last hours as Alex with the people she loves.

***

Alex lets out a soft sigh as the last dying streaks of orange transform into a dark purplish hue. The nighttime signals that her time on this moon is almost over. As her eyes gaze across the scenery outside of her window, she wishes she could take this moment to appreciate its beauty, to notice how the colors shift from one minute to the next or how the stars slowly start to speckle the night sky. Yet the beauty is lost on her. With each passing moment, all she can feel is her stomach sinking further and further as it becomes clear that Clarke will not arrive in time to say goodbye.

Is she okay? Have they made it to the research outpost? It has been almost 24 hours since Lucas left with Clarke and yet they are nowhere to been found. She can only hope that they made it safely there and are now on their way back with Clarke in control and Josephine back in the mind drive where she belongs.

A soft knock breaks her train of thought and she turns around just in time to see Raven crack open the door and stick her head through. She can see the brunette’s eyes tinged in a mixture of sadness and pity.

“They’re back. Are you ready?”

Giving her a firm nod, she takes one last look at her bedroom, her gaze lingering on the 2 letters on her desk before she follows swiftly after Raven.

Once outside of her house, a gentle breeze soon caresses her skin. The air is cool and crisp, and a chorus of sounds fill the air as a number of creatures go about their business. If it wasn’t for the palpable tension in the air or the fact that her heart was pounding to the rhythm of a hundred war drums, it would feel indistinguishable from any other night. Blinking her eyes so that they become accustomed to the dark, she takes one last glance at the fields – which remain hopelessly still – before steeling herself and pushing onwards.

They walk in silence, only the soft sounds of their footsteps mingling with each other as they make their way through the side streets. While a few people mill in and out of the shadows, no one spares a glance at them, too caught up in their own world to notice their somber expressions or how Raven’s eyes dart towards Alex every few seconds. The girl probably expects her to either fall apart or run away, but she shouldn't worry. Despite the twisted feeling of dread that sneaks its way inside her heart, Alex has no intention of backing out.

As the palace comes into view, Raven gently taps her on her shoulder and motions her to follow her to the left side of the staircase. Standing underneath the steps almost hidden from view are 3 people, 4 if you count the unconscious body Echo carries. Abby is the first one to reach her, giving her a sympathetic smile and squeezing her arm in an attempt to reassure her. Echo, who stands to her right, gives Alex a curt nod, shifting her weight to better position Madi’s body over her shoulder. Just behind her is the most intimidating woman Alex has ever seen in her entire life.

The first thing she notices is the geometric tattoo on the right side of her face and the scars that line her hard face. She wears a black leather vest over her dark long sleeved shirt and an arm bracer on her right hand with several buckles that must have taken her ages to put on. Her black pants are tucked into her combat boots and a lone blade hangs loosely by her side. Despite the woman’s stoic expression and posture of a seasoned warrior, Alex notices her pupils immediately widen. 

“Indra.” she says, stretching her arm out.

Feeling her heart beat rapidly against her chest, Alex swallows thickly and responds with her name, gripping the woman's forearm in typical Grounder fashion. When she notices the warrior's small nod of approval, she can't help but internally high five herself for remembering what Clarke told her about Grounder custom.

“They warned me that you looked like Lexa, but it is still strange to see.”

Before she can respond, Echo huffs, “Not to cut the pleasantries short, but we should make a move before the next guard arrives for his shift.”

Remembering they still had a lot to do, the group jumps into action and make their way towards the entrance. After checking that no one had seen them, Raven quickly disables the keypad and guides them through a room full of skeletons. A wave of anger surges through Alex as she counts all of those who lost their lives in service of the Primes. Before she can utter her disgust, Raven ushers them to another room behind a hidden wall. Her anger immediately dissipates when she realizes that they've made it to the operating room.

Raven beelines to the computer, cracking her knuckles before booting the machine. A low hum emanates from it. Inserting the mind drive into a strange device, lines of code suddenly dance on the screen. Alex almost goes cross-eyed from trying to decipher the string of letters and numbers.

"Goodbye Kaylee Lee VII 2237."

While Raven erases Kaylee from existence, the rest go about their assigned tasks. Echo places Madi on the operating table at the center of the room and starts to buckle the restraints. They had given her a rather strong sedative, but better to be safe than sorry. Meanwhile, Abby gathers the medical supplies and goes about making a small incision at the base of Madi's neck. With a wire they took from Eligius IV, she connects the Flame to the computer and then stands to the side to observe Madi's vitals.

There was nothing for Alex to do but wait.

“You’re very brave for doing this.” Indra says as she keeps watch on the door. Her right hand is resting lightly on the hilt of her sword.

Alex purses her lips. A part of her wants to tell people to stop praising her and another wants to cry on their shoulders and ask them to abort this stupid mission. She frowns and shakes her head. “I’m just doing what needs to be done.”

Indra hums out a quiet sound of understanding. “I see it’s not only your looks that’s similar to Lexa.”

Alex blushes. Clarke had mentioned the same thing. Hoping to change the subject, she looks over at Raven who continues to type furiously on the keyboard and asks, "Where did you learn to code like that?"

"City of Light, Community College." Raven retorts with a smirk on her face.

Echo rolls her eyes. "Raven, focus, please."

"Alright, alright. Jeez."

As she continues to type, Indra glances at Madi and lets out a small sigh. "I saw him once... Sheidheda. I was only a girl when he took Trikru. He went from village to village, butchering anyone who refused to kneel. Their families too." She pauses and looks around the room. Her gaze is fierce and determined, sending a chill down Alex's spine. "We cannot let this creature command Wonkru."

Echo hesitates for a moment, but then nods. "I know. If we fail, I'll take her life."

"Then how about we don't fail?" Raven counters. "Thanks to Becca's book, we're past the AI's security. If I'm right, it should be easy to isolate Lexa's code and copy her onto the mind drive we got from Murphy." Her fingers continue to fly over the keyboard until finally she announces, “It's uploading.”

As the bar on the screen slowly begins to fill, the most prevalent feeling inside of Alex is numbness. Maybe a little bit of nausea, as well. Her body is giving off a nervous energy, and her breath quickens at the prospect of what will happen next. After what felt like hours, but is probably only a few minutes, the transfer is complete.

Once they disconnect everything and cover Madi's cut, Echo swoops Madi into her arms, grunting slightly at the added weight. When she reaches the door, she thanks Alex one last time before exiting the room. As an ex-spy, she is the best person to find her way out without alerting the guards. Plus, it's best for her to leave since Lexa's last memory of her is the summit and the bombing of Mount Weather. 

Taking a deep breath, Alex moves forward and is about to hop onto the table when she feels a hand settle gently atop her shoulder. Spinning around, warm hands cup her face and sad eyes look at her. “Thank you, Alex. I know this wasn't an easy choice.” Abby whispers and pulls her into a tight hug. She closes her eyes and revels in the warmth of her embrace. “I'm so sorry Clarke isn't here to say goodbye.” 

Her throat feels tight and her eyes are stinging with tears she refuses to fall. "Me too." she murmurs. Clearing her throat, she gives Raven a hug and nods at Indra before settling herself comfortably on the chair. Her heart pulses with fear and adrenaline, so she's surprised when her voice comes out cool and controlled. "I'm ready."

Abby's voice is soft and soothing as her hands slip into hers. “In peace, may you leave this shore. In love, may you find the next. Safe passage on your travels, until our final journey to the ground. May we meet again.”

“Yu gonplei ste odon.”¹

She feels a needle press into her neck, the warm liquid seeping into her veins. Looking up, she whispers, “Death is life. May we meet again.”

As her eyes close, the last thing she sees is the face of a beautiful blonde before her world fades into darkness. 

Chapter Text

"Just lie still, okay. Lie still."

" Don't be afraid."

"Hey, don't you dare give up!"

"You were right Clarke. Life is about more than just surviving."

"...May we meet again."

A cry echoes in the distance.

"I never thought I'd see you again."

"I told you my spirit would choose wisely."

"Go, I'll hold them off."

"I love you!"

"I'll always be with you."

Voices. So many voices.

***

Her head feels like it is on fire.

Her thoughts become a frenzied mess. Bursts of images invade her mind, everything so loose and disjointed that she can barely register anything past the haze in her brain.

Suddenly a loud sound ricochets.

Pain ripples through her system, hot and screaming as she feels a sharp object pierce her skin. The air rushes from her lungs. Sticky wetness trickles down her stomach as her hands and feet begin to numb. She can feel herself struggling to maintain balance as she tries to fight the intense dizziness.

She knows this is a battle she cannot win.

***

Nothing makes sense to her.

Not the muffled sounds that makes her feel like she is underwater. Not the antiseptic smell that assails her nose. Not the feel of cold metal against her back nor the steady breeze that brushes her skin.

What is going on?

Taking a deep breath, she tries to clear her head. She focuses on the furious beating of her heart, waiting until it slows so that its rhythmic beat can wash over her. A sense of calm blankets over her. As her heart and breathing normalize, she knows it is time for her to make her next move.

“What's taking so long?”

Startled by the sudden voice, she feels herself instinctively try to immobilize the source, reaching for the knife that is usually hidden in her boots. To her surprise, her body remains flat against the metal. Her skin prickles at the new information. There are no restraints, so why can she not move?

Her body feels heavy and exhausted. Despite every effort, her limbs are uncooperative as if they have gone through years unused. Nothing she can do about that at this moment. Mentally huffing in annoyance, she focuses instead on the unknown entity. If they think she's still unconscious then all she can hope for is that her captors divulge enough information to help her get out of her current predicament.

"Why isn't she waking up?"

“Oh let me just check my Resurrection Guidebook.” someone huffs in exasperation. “How am I supposed to know? It’s not every day I bring someone back from the dead!”

‘Chit?’¹

“Are you sure you did everything right?”

“I triple checked Abby! I isolated all of her code and copied it onto the mind drive. From there we followed the exact procedure we saw in that video.”

“I’m just -“

A strong voice cuts in, “Perhaps it takes a while. We should take her to the house while we can. The next shift will happen soon and it will be our only window of opportunity before sunrise.”

The voice stirs something in her. The sound is familiar, like an old friend welcoming her back after a long time away at war. It tugs at her, begging her to remember, but her mind struggles to place it.

“Yeah, we should go.” The voice hesitates before continuing, “Look Abby, the mind drive is not as sophisticated as the Flame. There was never any guarantee this would work. We all knew the risks.”

‘The Flame?’

Images slowly start to form like warriors falling into place. Blue eyes lock with green as a deafening sound rings out and the smell of gunpowder fills the air. She sees Clarke's eyes go wide with shock as she staggers back at the sudden sharp pain. The barrel of a gun is pointed directly at her. Titus…

"Klark!"

Lexa gasps violently awake, her hand shooting down to her hip grasping at thin air where her knife should be. Everything swirls dizzily around her as she fights to stay upright. Blinking furiously in an attempt to clear her vision, she jumps off the metal table and stumbles slightly to the side. Although she cannot fully see where she is, she shifts into a battle stance relying on her other senses to protect her.

“Weron gon ai?”² she croaks. “Weron kamp raun Klark?”³ 

She looks down at her abdomen, expecting to see warm blood oozing through but there is nothing. How long has she been out? What happened during her absence? Her mind races and her heart pounds as her surrounding slowly starts to take shape. Three pairs of eyes are ogling at her: Indra, Abby and a brunette whose face she could not quite place. Something looked different about them. All of them stood gaping at her as if they could not believe what is in front of them.

"Damn, I'm good." the brunette replies in awe.

She ignores the words and instead continues to scan the room. ‘Weron kamp raun Titus?’⁴ She listens to the soft beeping of the machines around her. Is she in the Ark or in the Mountain?

Indra takes a step closer to her and whispers, "Lexa?”.

There is such an unexpected gentleness in her voice that it slightly takes Lexa aback. Turning to face her general, she straightens her spine into a rigid line. Through her eyes are stormy, her expression is still and resolute. “Weron gon ai?”. She frowns slightly at how her voice sounds.

Walking carefully as if approaching a rabid animal, Abby shoots both hands up and says, “Lexa, I know this must be confusing, but please sit down." She gestures at the operating table behind her. "We can explain everything while I check your vitals.”

Lexa waves a dismissive hand. Clasping her hands behind her back, she repeats for the 3rd time, “Where am I?” Her jaw clenches as the image of Titus brandishing a gun suddenly flashes before her eyes. She stares at Abby, “Where is Klark?”

It is the brunette, shifting nervously on her feet, who replies, “Klark isn’t here.” 

Her heart pounds furiously beneath her ribs in panic. She swallows down the lump that rises in her throat and forces her tone to come out evenly. "So where is she...". Raven, that is her name. "Raven."

“Lexa.” Indra calls, brown eyes gazing steadily into hers. “We must go before the guards find us, too much time has passed. We will explain everything once we are safe.”

Noticing how tense Indra looks, she nods. “Lead the way.”

As they all manage to make their way out the door, Lexa files away in her mind that the guards here must be incompetent. Just as she tries to rationalize Indra's concern, she feels a warm breeze brush her skin and freezes when her gaze flickers over the scenery in front of her. A small gasp escapes her lips. 

Small colorful houses that remind her of the houses from Floukru are basked in a soft blue light, a huge purplish moon hovering in the background. Feeling her head whirl at the foreign civilization in front of her, she is about to ask where they are when she notices Indra beckoning her to move. Steeling herself, she follows the three figures, the darkness hiding the fact that her eyes are narrowing in confusion and shock.

Once they cross the threshold of a small house, she quickly scans the room and faces them. Her jaw works back and forth for only a moment before she commands, “Explain.”

Silence envelops them as the air becomes thick with tension. When no one speaks, Raven steps forward and takes a deep breath, “Titus shot you. You died. Praimfaya came again and our group got split up. There was Spacekru who lived on the Ark, Wonkru that stayed in an underground bunker and Clarke & Madi who lived on Earth. 6 years later we all reunited for a hot second, only to duke it out with the Eligius crew for the last survivable piece of land on Earth. The world went to shit, and Earth was made uninhabitable. I know, right?"

Lexa blinks once in lieu of a response.

"Anyway, we decided to go into cryosleep for 10 years to give Earth time to recuperate, but it didn’t. So instead, we slept for 125 years and ended up in this placed called Sanctum, on moon Alpha. This place was colonized by 4 families over 230 years ago called The Primes, and they seemed like really nice people. Well, if you exclude the fact that they snatch people’s bodies. They have this thing, similar to the flame, which downloads their whole consciousness in it, and they can basically upload their minds into a new body.” Raven pauses, taking another deep breath. “And then –“

“Stop.” Lexa says, and Raven clamps her mouth shut. She breathes sharply through her nose and closes her eyes, letting Raven's words sink in. She died that day. Her visions... that is what they were telling her. She heads towards the nearby mirror. Steeling herself, Lexa lets out a hard sigh as her heart begins to pound in her chest. She opens her eyes.

A stranger stares back at her. An army of emotions are warring within her green eyes – confusion, sadness, anger. Her heart aches. Lexa lifts her arms and sees the stranger mimic her, touching their cheeks as their right index finger trails down towards their chin. They both shiver in response. They gaze up and down their body, shifting their weight from left to right and frowning at the unfamiliar feel. She may look like her, but this is not her.

“Who was she?” says the strange voice.

Raven whispers, “Her name was Alexandria.”

Lexa turns to her and nods before turning her attention back to her reflection. Straightening her spine, she lifts her chin and says, “Continue.”

Chapter Text

Lexa stares out at the construction site, the area shimmering in a soft orange glow from the two suns rising over the horizon. The sweetly-pitched hum of insects fill the air as the citizens of Sanctum begin to stir from their slumber, completely unaware that yet another stranger from the previous century now walks in their midst. Letting out a long sigh, she leans against a nearby tree and pulls out a small knife from its sheath. Her eyes squint as the pristine blade gleams in the early morning sun. Placing it carefully against her palm, she marvels at the craftsmanship, noticing how the handle is adorned with trees and flowers. Every carved detail perfectly reflects the beauty of the forest. Her heart tugs as it reminds her of the woods surrounding TonDC.

Perhaps that is why Indra gave it to her.

Removing her jacket, Lexa feels the cool air nip at her exposed flesh as she moves towards an open area. She pulls her hair back into a simple braid, her mind settling on a simple exercise she used to do when she was just a goufa¹. Taking in a deep breath, she cracks her neck and begins the combination of footwork and knife drills. A step here. A twirl there. She keeps her movements slow and calculated, feeling her muscles strain with each unfamiliar motion. Although she is nowhere near as graceful nor as fluid as she would like to be, the exercise manages to ease some of the tension that has been gradually building in her body since she first woke up.

As she takes a moment to wipe the sweat from her brow, she surveys the vast expanse before her, her eyes falling upon the large containers that litter the field. She feels a smile unconsciously tugging at her lips as she notices how they have been strategically laid out - the farm closest to the water source, the homes further away from the city edge in case of attacks, what looks like merchant tents near the city center. The foundations of a future metropolis. Smart. She feels a ripple of pride radiate through her bones as she marvels at the leader Clarke has become since her death.

Her death.

Feeling her head begin to hammer forcefully against her skull, she takes in a deep breath and brings her right hand to the nape of her neck. Her fingertips brush across the sutures. How is any of this possible? How is she even here? Is this all but a nightmare brought upon her by the past Commanders? Would she soon wake up and find herself wrapped around soft fur with a sleeping Clarke by her side?

After Raven’s rather overwhelming recounting of events, it would have been easy to dismiss it as a strange dream, fantastical in nature. Yet despite the brunette's rushed delivery, Lexa could see the truth reflecting in her eyes.

She could feel it in her bones. Correction, Alex's bones.

And so she tried to fill the gaps, asking questions that unlocked new details around the pain and destruction that descended upon Polis after her death. She was no stranger to the harsh realities of survival and the brutalities it entailed, but this felt different. Keeping her gaze fixed firmly on whoever was speaking, her impassive expression never betrayed her emotions. If they only knew. Inside, she felt like a strung up ripa², sentenced to death by a thousand cuts and forced to endure horror stories while everyone took a turn at the knife.

A.L.I.E and the City of Light. A knife cutting through her arm, droplets of blood staining her shirt.

The Last Conclave. A sword slicing across her chest, stinging as she sucks in a shuddering breath.

Praimfaya. Steel pressing against her throat as her lungs scream for air.

The Bunker and Blodreina. A blade slowly dragging against her stomach while she grits her teeth in pain.

Shallow Valley. Her leg giving out when a dagger pierces through a nerve.

The Primes. A fresh wave of dizziness spilling through her as she feels the blade twist inside her.

The Manifest. The final blow through her heart as a crimson pool of blood soaks into the earth beneath her feet.

Instead of death greeting her warmly at the end, all she felt was an all consuming agony. Like someone had left her in the Dead Zone to walk alone in the scorching heat for the rest of eternity. And yet, she would have endured that pain a million times if it meant that her people were still alive and well.

If only it were that easy.

Removing the manifest Indra had given her from her pocket, she unfolds the parchment and straightens out the crumpled corners. A pang of unimaginable sadness courses through her body as she lets her hand drag across Clarke's faded handwriting.

"What is this?" Lexa asks, her fingers wrapping around a worn piece of paper.

"The Eligius IV manifest." Indra explains, "Before we went into cryosleep, Clarke took an inventory of everyone who survived."

Lexa stares at her for a moment, silent, before letting out a soft sigh. There is only a single sheet of paper. Taking in a deep breath, she glances down at the list and feels her heart plummeting to the bottom of her stomach. Despite their stories, nothing could have prepared her for what she was about to see.

407 names.

Swallowing down the thick lump that suddenly springs in her throat, it takes all she has within her to keep her hands steady as she reads line by line. Each name feels like they burn into her skin, taking up residence somewhere deep inside her soul. They are the only thing keeping her tethered to her previous life. She remembers each and everyone of them - what they looked like, who they were, which clan they belonged to, and if they ever interacted. She wonders who they have become now.

"Only 364 people remain from the coalition..." she whispers, the number scraping mercilessly against the mask she is so accustomed to wearing.

Expression solemn, Indra only nods.

Lexa works her jaw back and forth, letting the warrior’s unspoken words sink in. As the Commander, it had been her sworn duty to protect her people. To lead them, to live for them and to die for them. Every decision she ever made had been in service to them, no matter the cost. Now only 364 remained from the 13 clans. A flash of pain sparks in her chest as her mind floods with images of crowded streets that will never be full again. “How are they?” she asks, keeping her voice steady despite the immense sadness that lurks underneath.

"Just casually frozen for the past 125 years." Raven mumbles, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. When she notices the slight arch in Lexa’s brow, she says, “Shit, did I say that out loud?"

Abby sighs, lifting herself off the couch to face Lexa. "Yes. Everyone's vitals are stable." she says, a sad smile slipping across her lips. "Kane was the only one who was severely injured and might not-" She stops and swallows.

”Abby...” Raven whispers, concern flickering in her eyes.

"Our people are fine." Indra interjects, placing a reassuring hand on top of the older woman's shoulder. "We will wake everyone up once we are able to safely move into our new compound." 

Lexa hums, holding her gaze for several long moments before nodding her acceptance. She surveys the two women in front of her. So much seems to have changed. Clasping her hands firmly behind her back, she turns her gaze towards the window and purses her lips, watching as soft beams of light start filtering through.

There are still so many questions she wants to ask. There are still so many things she needs to understand. There are still so many things she does not know.

The latter is what concerns her the most.

"It has been a long night." she says, smoothing her expression before turning her attention back to them. She tilts her head forward, "Thank you for taking the time to explain what happened."

"And for you know... resurrecting you." Raven murmurs quietly to herself.

"Perhaps it is time to get some rest." she continues, paying no attention to the brunette who she is quite sure mutters under her breath "Man, tough crowd."

Abby nods, "You should as well."

She shakes her head. Sleep is the last thing on her mind. Instead, she takes in a deep breath and approaches the healer, whose eyes widen in surprise. “To you, Abby kom Wonkru." she says, extending her right hand. "You forever have my gratitude." 

The woman blinks, taken aback by her comment. "For what? Raven was the one-"

"For what you did for our people." Lexa cuts in, fire burning in her eyes. She lets the words linger in the air, hoping it is enough to convey the deep appreciation she feels for her. "Regardless of the method, you kept them alive. And for that, I can never repay you."

A hesitant hand grips her forearm.

“Mochof.“³

Lexa sighs, letting her fingers run softly against the dry ink. Folding it carefully as if it is the most precious thing in the world to her, she tucks the manifest safely in her pocket and makes her way towards the compound. She fights the temptation to explore. Grabbing a small stack of woods next to the nearest container, she makes a mental note to replenish their supplies before heading back up the hill. The logs in her arms shift from side to side as the soft sounds of her footsteps disturb the morning air. Once at the top, she drops into a crouch and methodically lays down each plank. She repeats the whole process until she finally finds herself standing before a small structure.

She ignores the exhaustion riddling her muscles and bones.

Breaking a wide piece of bark from a nearby tree, she settles it a short distance away and returns to collect a few sticks and dry leaves. Everything is placed neatly into a small pile. Keeping her hands open and flat, Lexa shimmies them rapidly along the stick she had placed at the center until soft wisps of smoke fill the air. She gently blows on it and coaxes it into a flame. As she rises, a part of her wonders why she is bothering to do this. It is a waste of time and resources, but deep down she knows she needs to do this.

She grabs one of the larger sticks and slowly makes her way towards the funeral pyre. Standing before it, she takes in a deep breath.

Ste yuj.⁴

Her hands are steady as she brings down her makeshift torch. She watches as the fire rises and grows. Crackling. Flickering. Alive. She feels the air burn around her, hot and thick, as she loses herself in the layer of blending colors. There is nothing beyond the wood burning, but in her eyes she sees thousands of bodies laying motionless on the surface. She mutters the funeral rites. This is what tradition demands.

This is what she demands.

She feels her heart tighten painfully against her chest as she stares at the mesh of orange and red. Her eyes prick with unshed tears. She thinks of her natblidas and their youthful smiles as she taught them the principles of leadership. She thinks of Aden kom Triku who would have been an incredibly fierce and compassionate Commander. She thinks of Roan kom Azgeda who would have improved the lives of his people as their new king. She thinks of Alexandra who gave her life and body to save her people...

You had no control over what happened to you, but you have complete control over what happens now. I'm giving my life to protect my people because like you, I love my people. This is my duty. I go willingly knowing that you will not let my death go in vain.

Lexa holds onto those words like a promise. Letting out a soft breath, she grabs the knife and slices off a piece of her braid. She places it at the base of the tree trunk.

“Yu gonplei ste odon, Alex.“⁵

***

Judging from the passage of the suns and the embers that smoke beside her, Lexa must have been sitting on the hill for several hours when she suddenly hears the soft rustle of leaves. Her eyes shoot open as her hand automatically reaches for the knife on her belt.

"Lexa."

Loosening her grip, she turns her head and watches as Indra slowly makes her way towards her. She comes to a stop a couple of meters away. Pushing off the ground, Lexa steadies herself on her feet and straightens her spin, feeling the familiar mask slip across her face as she turns toward the warrior. She beckons her to approach, settling her hands loosely atop the knife by her belt.

Indra moves to stand beside her. "I figured I would find you here."

“I needed some time to think.” she answers simply, clasping her hands behind her back. She notices Indra glance quickly at the pyre to her left. If she finds it strange, she does not say. Lexa does not expect her to.

"Here."

The barest hint of a smile touches Lexa's lips as she turns to find water and food being offered to her. She nods her thanks. Tipping the canteen, she feels the water pass through her throat, refreshing and cool. She pops the berries in her mouth and nearly moans at the burst of flavors. After hours outside, she welcomes the relief that floods her system. She returns the now empty container.

"Mochof.“

They stand together in a comfortable silence, overlooking the large valley that will one day house their people. Only the sounds of the light breeze rippling through the leaves fill the midday air. Lexa lets out a soft sigh. For the first time since she woke up, she feels at ease. If she closes her eyes, she can almost imagine herself back in TonDC when Indra had been a constant presence by her side. How Commander and general stood side by side as they watched their people go about their lives. She cannot help but revel in the feeling of familiarity in a day marred by the unfamiliar.

She has a feeling Indra knows.

As the older woman stands like a statue beside her, Lexa takes the opportunity to look out of the corner of her eyes, taking in the details of her appearance up close. To her surprise, for the most part, Indra looks exactly the same. The only noticeable difference is her hair which is shorter and shaved on both sides. It accentuates the geometric tattoo on the right side of her face.

Lexa looks down and frowns at her bare arms. Will someone on Sanctum be able to tattoo her body? She shakes her head and quickly dismisses the thought. There are more important things than her being comfortable in her own skin.

When Indra finally breaks the silence and speaks, her voice is soft and gentle. "It must be hard to come back to all this." Indra states, not looking directly at her.

Her silence must be as clear as any verbal response, because Indra simply nods. Lexa knows where this conversation is heading.

"Our people..." she starts, but Lexa cuts her off.

"Stedaunon don gon we."⁶ she tells her, ignoring the familiar ache in her chest. After the events of this morning, she has made her peace with it. "Kikon ste enti."⁷ she says, turning to face her. When their eyes meet, she knows that Indra understands. 

Taking one last look at the compound, she lets out a soft breath. It is time to put the past behind and focus on the future. Steeling herself, she feels the weight of the world once again fall upon her shoulder. It wraps around her like an armor, a reminder that it is time for her to lead her people.

"Take me to Madi."

Chapter Text

Clarke gasps awake, fighting the urge to scream as she pushes herself off the cold steel that presses against her back. The nape of her neck prickles uncomfortably. Twisting her body so that her legs swing off to the side, she plants her feet firmly on the ground and presses a hand to her temple. Her head pounds like a war drum, beating with such a steady rhythm that she feels like it's preparing for battle. Letting out a harsh sigh, she braces herself before carefully rising to her feet, swaying softly as dizziness racks her brain. When she manages to clear away the spots dotting her vision, her blood runs cold.

What is she doing back in the skybox?

As she moves towards the center of the room, she pauses, distracted by a new sensation that makes her frown. Something seems off. Her body feels different, softer, no muscles to indicate she has ever trained a day in her life. Her hair is also longer, past her shoulders now, and her father's watch is still ticking away and resting comfortably against her wrist. Looking down, her fingers graze the hem of a grey long sleeved shirt as she stares at familiar black pants and boots.

These are the same clothes she wore on that fateful day she made it to the ground.

She furrows her brows in confusion. What. The. Fuck. Is she reliving the day the 100 were sent to Earth? Turning widely to look at the walls around her, she expects to be greeted by the same drawings that kept her company in solitary, but to her surprise, what she finds is completely different.

She most certainly never drew these before.

Her heart pounds painfully against her ribs as she finds her feet moving on their own accord, guiding her across the tiny room while her gaze flickers over the countless charcoal drawings that cover the walls. Each one seems like they could’ve been taken from her own sketchbooks, deliberately picked to showcase defining moments of her life back on Earth.

Octavia stepping out of the dropship. Wells telling her the truth about her mom. Lexa smiling in bed next to her. Bellamy in the fighting pits. Madi with a shock collar around her neck. Alex pointing up at the sky to show her the stars.

Good or bad, the walls and ceiling are filled to the brim with sketches, only the floor left bare except for the familiar forest she had drawn over a hundred ago. As she walks around in awe, Clarke jumps almost violently when familiar voices spill from the seams.

I blame you because my father's dead, and it's my mother's fault.

The truth hurts.

We've all got a monster inside of us, Clarke, and we're all responsible for what it does when we let it out.

Victory stands on the back of sacrifice.

How many have to die?

The words pierce Clarke like the sharp end of a blade, evoking emotions and dredging up memories that she had long buried deep inside her soul. What cruel game is her mind playing at, reminding her of those she had lost? She closes her eyes and tries to drown out the sound. Did she eat or drink anything different recently? Is there another sun she doesn’t know about that can make her hallucinate? Her mind turns up blank, no recollection of anything out of the ordinary. The thought makes her stomach lurch with her growing unease.

Opening her eyes, she has half a mind to leave her cell when she finds that she has gravitated towards the largest portrait in the room. Though colorless on the wall, Lexa's eyes look bright and alive, the shading highlighting her soft and elegant features. Although no amount of beauty in that sketch could ever capture the true beauty of its subject, it leaves Clarke breathless, her troubles completely forgotten. She aches to touch it, but as soon as her fingers graze upon the cold metal surface, something happens.

Lexa stands in front of her, her soft lips tugging into a shy smile as she looks fondly back at her.

Clarke steps back, her entire body vibrating as she removes her hand like it had burned her. She lets out a shaky breath she didn't realize she was holding. For a split second, she had been back in Polis, transported to the exact moment Lexa had smiled at her so. It felt so real. Staring curiously at the charcoal drawing in front of her, she furrows her brows.

This is some next level hallucination.

She tilts her head in thought, beginning to wonder what her mind is trying to tell her before another image manages to distract her. This time Clarke spots her and Madi, the two of them enjoying the peace and quiet of Shallow Valley. Placing her hand once again upon the cool steel, this time she's not surprised when she finds herself back in the forest.

They’re in front of a fire now, Clarke leaning against a moss-covered log while Madi's head lays peacefully on her lap. She smiles at her daughter, running her fingers softly through her hair. She feels at peace. 

Begrudgingly, she removes her hand. 

Prisoner 319, face the wall.

Whipping her head at the sound, she expects to find one of the surly guards waiting for her but no one is there. Instead she is greeted by more whispers, this time indiscernible, coming from just beyond the door. Logic dictates she should be wary, ominous voices never a good sign, but for some reason it doesn't faze her. Without an ounce of hesitation, she makes her way towards the door and pushes it open, squinting as a bright light encases her.  

When it finally dims, her jaw drops. Clarke is stunned, struggling with a surge of emotions that threaten to crush her. She shows no indication that she’s even noticed the change in her appearance, too busy staring at the place where her heart had once felt so full. A place where her heart had never felt such pain. A place that sometimes still haunted her dreams.

Afraid that any sudden movement would break this illusion, she stays by the doorway, noticing how everything seemed the same, every detail exactly as she remembered it. The dilapidated walls, the chair, the sofa, the table covered in candles. She even lets her eyes wander towards the elaborate bed covered in animal fur until her heart tugs so painfully that she has to look away. As she continues to commit to memory something that had never left in the first place, her attention is taken away by the sudden flutter of the curtain in the back.

She swears in that moment that her heart stops beating.

A beautiful woman is standing by the open window with her back towards her. Straight spine, her hands are clasped loosely behind her body, her brunette hair cascading around her shoulders in soft waves. She wears tight black pants and a sleeveless top, revealing a tribal-looking tattoo on her right arm. Although Clarke can’t see her face, she imagines lovely green eyes staring down at the bustling streets of Polis, a soft smile on her lips as she watches her people going about their day.

Every bone in her body is screaming and fighting for Clarke to run towards her. For her to grasp her tightly in her arms and never let go. But she remains frozen in place, too scared to move in fear that this is just another hallucination. That her mind is playing cruel tricks like it did back in the Sky Box. Instead, all she allows herself to do is let her gaze trail up and down the woman's form, her heart thudding heavily beneath her ribs at the sight of an old lover.

“You are staring.”

Her breath hitches against her throat at the sound of her voice. A voice she hadn't heard in over a hundred years, but could never in a million years forget. This is the voice that could start wars, bring peace, forge coalitions, and steal her heart.

Long ago, it was her favorite sound.

Time all but seized to exist the moment she turned to face her. When blue eyes locked with green, she is washed in the feeling of being home again, warmth bubbling in her gut like someone had hugged her after a particularly grueling day. She doesn’t move, terrified that at any moment the spell would break. But when she sees the slight lift in the brunette's brow, she can’t help but whisper softly, "Lexa?"

"Hello Klark." she says with a warm smile, the hard click on the "k" sending goosebumps up and down Clarke's spine.

The words are enough to break the blonde's hesitation as she barrels towards her, feeling Lexa stagger at the force of her sudden embrace. Strong arms come up and encircle her waist. Grasping the brunette tightly against her frame, she buries her face into her hair and breathes in her scent, the smell of woodsmoke and pine assailing her nose. If this is what her hallucination allows her to do, then who is she to question it.

She doesn’t know how long they stand there reveling in each other’s embrace, but no time is long enough to leave her satisfied. Pushing herself enough so that their eyes meet, she exclaims, "How is this possible?” Her eyes burrow into a beautiful sea of green as her hands entwine with Lexa’s fingers. “How are we here?"

"What is the last thing you remember?"

She pauses, racking her brain. When before she struggled to remember any details, this time her mind seems clearer, like Lexa was the key to unlocking her memories. A cut in her hand, a needle in her neck, Russell Prime thanking her. Her eyes widen at the realization. "I died."

"Yes." Lexa replies simply, giving her hands a slight squeeze.

Clarke frowns and murmurs, "It's over.” After everything she’s done, after all the choices and the sacrifices she’s made, it’s all over. She rests her forehead gently on Lexa’s, feeling exhaustion suddenly riddling her body and soul. She's not sure whether to feel sad or relieved. “I've been fighting for so long." she says, her voice low and raspy.

"I know you have, Klark." she replies, brushing her hands against her cheeks. Lexa's index finger slides to her chin and tilts her head up so they’re looking into each other’s eyes. "And you have done so well. You have become the leader I have always imagined you to be."

“I had a good teacher.” Clarke says, her eyes not quite meeting the smile that crosses her face. It’s bittersweet, to know she’s dead but to know that in return she’ll be with Lexa. Perhaps death won’t be so bad after all. 

She almost startles when Lexa wipes away tears she didn’t even know she had shed. Clarke leans into her touch. "I never though I'd see you again."

"I told you that I will always be with you."

She bites the bottom of her lips and nods. Even after death, Lexa has always been there for her, always looking out for her through Madi via the Flame. Her heart aches as she realizes she’ll never be able to do the same for those she left behind. “I never got to say goodbye. To Madi. To my mom. To Al-" She hesitates, Alex’s name at the tip of her tongue.

If Lexa notices, she doesn’t show. "Yes, but this is only temporary."

Clarke furrows her brows. Lexa may believe that death is not the end, but she’s quite sure her death is final. There's no Flame to keep a part of her alive. As she is about to ask what she meant, she sees the sky darken, heavy raindrops quickly falling from the sky. "What the hell?" she says, closing the window and brushing the few water droplets that had managed to land on her.

"Klark, listen.” the brunette says, seemingly unperturbed by the change in weather. “What do you hear?"

"Rain?" she laughs, tilting her head to the side.

Lexa shakes her head. "Focus, Klark. Between the raindrops. What else do you hear?"

Frowning at Lexa's seriousness, she closes her eyes and tries to listen for any unnatural sounds. She hears the sound of rain pattering heavily against the glass panes, thunder cracking across the distance, and wind whistling past the window. There’s nothing out of the ordinary to explain the brunette’s change in demeanor. Tired of this game and eager to get back to Lexa, she’s about to give up when a soft thumping in the background catches her attention. The rhythm shifts, the steady pounding becoming heavier and louder. After a few beats, there’s no mistaking that sound. 

"It's a heartbeat.” she answers, looking to find Lexa's gaze digging into her. There's a fire in her eyes that makes her pause. This can't be right. “I'm still alive?”

"Good, Klark."

She shakes her head and lets out a huff of a laugh. "No, no. I saw it." she counters, expression contorted in disbelief. Her mind brings her back to the skeleton room, the cold metal pressing against her skin as Russell whispered softly to her. She shivers at the memory. "He killed me."

"He did not."

Clarke looks expectantly at Lexa to continue, but the brunette doesn't move or make a sound. She resists the urge to roll her eyes and begins to pace around the room. What did she miss?

"If I'm not dead, then something must have interfered with the drug they used to wipe my mind." she drawls, pursing her lips. Lexa gives her an encouraging nod so she continues thinking out loud, "I didn’t eat or drink anything out of the ordinary, so whatever stopped the drug was already in my body. That m -" She freezes, realizing her feet had dragged her towards the bed. Her eyes land on a small metal container hidden amongst the furs, the faded skull in the cover staring back at her. Realization hits her like a brick as she breaths, "A.L.I.E's chip.” Her left hand goes to the back of her neck. “We never EMP'd it from my head so it must've interfered with the process."

Lexa smiles softly at her. “Yes.”

"But that means." she murmurs, feeling her heart clench so hard that she presses her hand to her chest and closes her eyes. This isn’t real. The thought makes her insides feel like lead. "You’re just in my head.” Clarke whispers, swallowing the enormous lump that instantly forms in her throat. “I loved everything about Polis. And I loved you. So here you are."

She startles when she feels a hand settle gently atop her shoulder. Lifting her head, her heart jumps in her throat at the way Lexa's eyes sear into her. She doesn't make a sound beyond her quiet breathing, but her gaze says so much without words. 

"Am I dreaming?" Clarke mutters, unsure whether she wants to hear the answer.

"No, we are in your subconsciousness.” Lexa responds before stepping back. Her fingers graze across the fur. “This place is reacting to you.”

“Mm.” Clarke hums out in response. “So my subconsciousness wants you.”

A red tinge appears on Lexa’s cheeks, but the corner of mouth lifts. "It appears to be that way, Klark.” They share a sweet smile before she straightens her spine, expression now serious. “But there are no answers for you here. You must go and figure this out."

Go? Clarke's bottom lip juts out in her confusion. "Where would I go?"

Crossing the room, Lexa gestures towards her bedroom door, “Wherever you need to go to get back to your people."

The words hang in the air between them. Maybe someday you and I will owe nothing more to our people.

She moves towards Lexa, slipping into the her space like their bodies are tethered together by an invisible cord. Her gaze roams over the brunette's face as if she is trying to commit every inch of it to memory. "What if I don't want to go, Lexa?" she questions softly, her heart racing in her chest at the guilt she feels for voicing that thought aloud. “What if I just stay here a little while longer?”

She knows it’s silly, selfish even. Lexa died a long time ago, and her people still need her. But despite her best efforts, a part of her refuses to believe that she isn't really here. How can she when she can see her? When she can hear her. When she can touch her.

Clarke lowers her voice to a soft murmur. "I've lost you twice already. I don’t think I could bare losing you again after I just found you.”

Lexa places her hands gently on her cheeks and places a soft kiss on her forehead. "Yes you can because you are strong, Klark.” She rests their heads together, their noses just slightly brushing. She breathes, “You can never lose me. I will always be here if you need me."

It’s so easy to fall in love with Lexa again.

Unable to hold back any longer, Clarke closes the distance and captures her lips against her own. The touch ignites her body on fire. Her hands find purchase on her hips, pulling Lexa’s body flush to hers as she kisses her with fervor. All she wants is this, the feeling of the girl she loves in her arms, her mouth, her moans and her hands grounding her and reminding her that life is more than just surviving.

The irony isn't lost on her. 

When they surface for air, they stay still for a moment to catch their breaths before Clarke wraps her arms fully around Lexa. She pulls her closer until it feels like she's trying to press their two bodies into one. Burying her face in the crook of her neck, Clarke closes her eyes and murmurs, "I love you."

"Ai hod yu in, Klark."¹

She tries to fight the wobble of her bottom lip and the stinging in her eyes when she peels herself from Lexa, her body already missing the warmth and contact. Avoiding her gaze for fear it will break her resolve, she makes her way towards the door, her limbs feeling heavy with every step she takes like she is begging for time to slow down or stop. A part of her wishes Lexa would call her back, but she knows she won't.

"Mebi oso na hit choda op nodotaim."² she whispers, steeling herself and crossing the threshold before a bright light once again encompasses her.

Boots echo on the metal floor as she finds herself transported to Eligius IV. Her appearance is now closer to what she currently looks like, hair short, old leather jacket, black pants and boots. While everything for the most part seems the same, the newest addition is a bright red door at the end of the hallway adorned with a Christmas wreath. When she approaches it, she hears the sounds of gunshots.

"Sanctum is mine!"

Clarke's brow furrows. "What the hell is going on."

Pushing the door open, she shields her eyes from the brightness, spotting the silhouette of a person moving closer before she comes into view.

"Clarke Griffin. It's nice to meet you." says the blonde. "I've heard so many things, most of them murdery, but you know," she shrugs, "no judgment."

Her jaw drops. "Josephine?" she questions, staring at the girl in front of her. Although she's probably around 250-260 years old, she doesn't look a day over 24. She looks her up and down, taking in her slight frame and intelligent brown eyes. She's wearing a deep crimson leather jacket and dark pants, with the top of her hair pulled back. She reminds her a little of Russell.

"In the flesh." she grins, swinging her arms wide open before her expression grows serious. "But you shouldn't have opened that door. This body is not big enough for both of us."

Her heart sinks to her stomach. If she didn't fully believe it then, she sure does now. She mutters to herself, "Russell really did it. He stole my body."

"And clearly made a mess of it." Josephine counters in an exasperated tone. "It's been hundreds of years since a mind wipe failed, but I got to say, this isn't bad." She walks past Clarke and lets her fingers graze over the metal walls. "Not as organized as my mindspace, of course, but mildly impressive." 

"Mindspace?" she asks, turning towards her.

"The brain creates these constructs when two minds share a body, like lucid dreaming only not as fun." She glances over at her as if case in point. "It's a self-preservation thing, trying to keep the minds separate so the body doesn't die. You kind of messed that up when you survived, so, you know, thanks for the accelerated brain deterioration." she says, voice filled with sarcasm before continuing her exploration of the mining ship.

"Wait you've been through this before?"

Josephine shrugs a shoulder. "Never anything as advanced as this, but yeah, back in the day before Gabriel perfected the mind wipe, there were a few mishaps. I got jacked into some people's minds while the lights were still on.” With a hint of annoyance lacing her voice, she adds, “They were so average."

Clarke bites her bottom lip. "What happened?"

"Brain hemorrhaging leads to stroke and we all fall down." she responds rather matter-of-factly. "It's messy and hurts like a mother. Would not recommend it. Two minds, one brain never ends well." She turns to meet her gaze, pointing to their surroundings and then to Clarke as she says, "So this, it's a problem. How did you even survive?"

She crosses her arms over her chest and raises her eyebrows. "You just want to know so you can figure out how to get rid of me."

"Ok. Weren't you listening?" Josephine snaps. "If we don't do something, this body dies. Is that what you want?"

Clarke huffs out a hard sigh. "Of course not. Why can't you just find a new body and give mine back?"

"I could, I suppose, but it's risky. The last Primes who went on ice died forever and I'm not really into that. Besides, possession is 9/10 of the law, and, just between us girls," she leans close to her and whispers, "I kind of like your body."

Clenching her hands into fists, she growls, "You're a sociopath."

"Judgy." Josephine says as her lips purse exaggeratedly. "Besides, like you're one to talk, Wanheda," she retorts, twirling her hair in her fingers. "The way I see it, you have two options. Tell me how you survived so I can fix it, and I'll make sure your people live happily ever after or don't, and eventually, we'll both die anyway." She casually crosses her arms and juts out her hip. "The difference is, I'll be reborn in someone else, tell my father what happened, and he'll kick your people out to die in the woods."

"Go float yourself." Clarke spits out, expression contorted in anger. She will not let her endanger her people.

Josephine arches a brow. "I have no idea what that means."

Narrowing her eyes, she keeps her tone low and threatening. "Let me spell it out for you. It means that I'm not telling you anything, and I don't go down easy."

She raises her hands up in mock surrender. "Wow. You're selfish. Not to mention dumb." she responds before continuing to make her way down the hall. "Your mindspace contains all your memories, so try not to think of where you keep them." The door to her left opens. "Hello." she says, turning towards the sound. She shouts as she disappears into the room. "You control your mindspace Clarke. Too bad you can't control your thoughts."

A flare of panic sparks in her chest at the realization that she basically led Josephine to her memories. Running towards her cell, she stumbles to a stop when she finds the blonde frozen by her bed.

"I rescind my compliments. This is a disaster. Didn’t anyone ever teach you about organizational structure?"

Glaring at her, she bites out, "Get out of my head."

Josephine rolls her eyes and continues forward. "Now, now, Clarke. Sharing is caring." she says, keeping her right hand on the wall while she walks around the room. She drawls, “Interesting. Very interesting choices you've made there.”

Anger takes up residence in Clarke's veins as she watches Josephine so easily violate her privacy. Closing her eyes, she grits her teeth and sucks in a sharp breath through her nose. There must be some way she can get rid of her. Fighting the urge to punch her, she snarls, “That’s private.”

”You should’ve thought about that when you decided to keep your memories so open like this.” she counters, motioning towards the charcoal drawings.

Maybe she should punch her.

“Or not.” Josephine adds, frowning at an empty spot on the wall.

Clarke furrows her brows. There was definitely an image there before. Taking a step towards it, she finds her path blocked by Josephine.

"Are you hiding a memory from me Clarke?” she sings, speaking to her like a child who just got caught red handed. "That's a little rude, don't you think?"

"Rude?" she repeats, fingers itching for some sort of weapon. She is so angry that she is practically vibrating. "You're the one who stole my body."

Josephine huffs out in exasperation. "Oh just get over it already. Now if you would just give-" she says, reaching out to Clarke.

Wrong move.

Grasping at her outstretched arm, Clarke flips her over and slams her onto her back, Josephine letting out a low groan. The rage that had bubbled in her gut, spills over. Keeping with her downward momentum, she positions her knee so that she can press down on Josephine's chest and keep her pinned, but the girl quickly realizes the situation and rolls into a crouch by the wall. In any other moment, Clarke would've been impressed by her reflexes, but there's no time to react as she soon finds Josephine lunging towards her. Her eyes widen in surprise. Grabbing Clarke by the waist, the blonde pushes her into the hallway where they end up tumbling on the floor. They struggle briefly before Clarke finally manages to land several punches to her face and abdomen.

A strange sense of satisfaction swells in her chest at the sight of blood oozing through the blonde’s nose and mouth.

Ducking at the weak swing Josephine throws at her, she connects her fist once again to her cheek. The force of the impact causes her to drop to the ground with a grunt. Josephine knows she has lost. As she tries to crawl back to the safety of her mindspace, Clarke places her boot on her back to stop her progress and grabs the red door before swiftly slamming it shut on Josephine’s head. 

Clarke freezes when blood begins to coat the floor.

“Warning. Collision alert."

Shielding her eyes from the bright light that appears, she almost lets out an involuntary groan when a familiar blonde crosses back inside.

"We're back bitches!" Josephine exclaims, mimicking Octavia when she first stepped out of the drop ship. There’s no vestige of their previous altercation on her face or on the floor.

A heavy, shocked silence blankets the corridor before Clarke speaks, "How?"

"Come on. You're smarter than that." she says, quirking a brow. "My mind drive backs up my consciousness. I can't die in the mindspace.” 

Just her luck. She huffs out a sigh, “Great.” 

The corner of Josephine’s lips curve upward, and Clarke sees the exact moment realization sinks in. “But you can. I highly doubt that the fluke that kept you here can bring you back.” There’s a strange glint in her eyes as she moves closer, like an animal cornering her prey. Clarke can feel her heart racing rapidly inside her chest. “So either I kill you in here or find the memory of how I can kill you out there. Got a preference? I'm kinda leaning towards the former."

Clarke runs.

"Easy or hard way Clarke, either way, you die."

Ignoring the empty echos of her footsteps slamming against the metal floor, she weaves through the winding labyrinth of the ship and tries to put as much distance as she can between her and Josephine. Although she's not sure what the woman said is correct, she refuses to stick around to test that theory.

"Come out come out wherever you are, Clarke."

Gritting her teeth, she disappears through the first door she finds.

The moment she feels the wind against her face is the moment she knows she’s no longer in space. The air is clean and ripe unlike the stale air of Eligius IV, and the ground feels soft and springy beneath her feet. Opening her eyes, she looks out at the familiar valley littered with empty containers. Despite the circumstances she can’t help but feel her heart tug softly at the sight of her home. She makes her way towards the edge, stopping short when she hears someone call out her name.

”Clarke.”

Whirling towards the sound, her heart skips a beat when she sees a figure leaning casually against a tree. Her green eyes are filled with warmth as she tosses something up and down in her hands.

Her voice is soft as she whispers, “Alex.”

”Hey stranger.”

(To be continued...)