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Chapter Text

They call her a soothsayer.

Lexa learns of her first by another name: skaiheda. The first small contingent of Sky People hits the ground and changes everything she thought she knew about the ways of this world. In the early reports, Lexa learns that those who have invaded her land are only one hundred strong, many of them children, many of them apparently naïve and unskilled in combat. Still, they are invaders, and she also learns they have been warned as such. In response, the Sky People set fire to a trikru village. Lexa sends Anya to conquer the threat, trusting that her old mentor will handle the matter in the same way Lexa would. After her confrontation with their leader, messengers report that the Sky People are commanded by a blonde woman known as Clarke.

They also report that she greeted Anya by name.

Lexa wonders at this, but she is forced to disregard her curiosity as the violence between their peoples escalates. Soon enough, 300 of her most vicious and capable warriors – the Raiders – are dead, reported to have been burned alive at the command of skaiheda. Lexa’s heart aches at the news, and aches at knowing Anya died amongst them, but she has no time to grieve. She learns that this small group was but a scouting party. They seem to simply disappear into thin air, and before she knows it, more Sky People have fallen from the heavens.

Then, she hears of the massacre in Tondc. She knows the invaders must be stopped before they can cause more destruction to her land and her people. It is time to call upon the armies of the Twelve Clans.

Lexa musters the warriors of the Coalition as quickly as possible. Still, it takes time for them to gather. Even before she begins her march, the rumors start to trickle in that her own people have begun flocking to the Sky People’s camp. Not scouts or warriors, but traders and spinsters and blacksmiths – persons of all walks of life. Lexa is stunned. Why would the most vulnerable of her people do such a foolish thing?

“There is a young woman among skaikru,” the messenger kneeling at her feet answers. “The villagers told me she knows the future. They seek her out for the answers to their troubles.”

“Impossible.” Lexa’s response is immediate. “None can tell the future.”

But the messenger only looks up at her with an earnest expression. “She knew my name before I gave it, heda. She knew that I would come back to you.” He pauses, his gaze dropping to his feet. “I learned only this morning that my son came into this world stillborn. Two days ago, she told me it would be so. I know not how else to explain this, heda.”

Lexa knows in her heart that there is no such thing as future sight. This woman – whoever she is – has somehow tricked her people into believing her lies. Perhaps it is through one of the many unknown practices of the Sky People. She knows not the answer to this dilemma. She only knows it does not matter. Skaikru has brought about nothing but grief. They have invaded her lands and killed her people, and they must be stopped at all costs. They have massacred her people needlessly, and are no better than the Mountain Men.

Yet, when she arrives at Camp Jaha, she cannot deny what her own sight tells her. A large gray structure towers into the sky, encircled by a crackling wired fence. The Sky People mill about within the boundary of their camp, and outside of it, Lexa’s own people are gathered. Hundreds of tents sprawl out around the fenced border, but there is no fight raging here. Instead, people – men, women, and children – from what can only be dozens of backgrounds mill about. Lexa swears she can even see members of ouskejon kru amongst them. They are eating, drinking, laughing, trading, all but celebrating.

Though she would never admit it aloud, Lexa is simply baffled by what she sees. The Sky People have harmed her people so much. What is this?

Not really knowing what else to do, Lexa settles her army atop the large hill overlooking Camp Jaha, in plain view of both the Sky People and her own. Lexa sends two of her men on horseback down to the gates. As they approach, there is a buzz of activity within the perimeter of the fence, as if she has kicked an ant hill. Dozens of Sky People muster at the inner border of the fence with guns, even as the fanfare outside of it grinds to a halt.

She watches as the messengers slowly pick their way down the hill and through the crowd of people and tents. Her people gather and follow carefully after them, sending furtive glances up at her Coalition army camped above them. Questions are asked of both sides, but to their credit, Lexa’s messengers seem to be focused on the task at hand. They are met at the gate by a contingent of what seems to be a small group of guards and leaders. Words are exchanged for several minutes before the messengers wheel their horses back around and begin to slog back through the crowd of people. Together, the two of them return to the hilltop and dismount in front of Lexa.

“Heda,” one of them says. “The leaders of the Sky People have requested to meet with you in peace talks at their camp.”

Indra scoffs and states the obvious, “As if. If they wish to meet, it will be outside of their camp.”

“What of all… this?” Lexa demands, motioning to the crowd of hundreds gathered at the base of the hill.

The other messenger shakes his head, bewildered. “These people are bewitched, heda. They claim there is a young woman among Skaikru who can look forward in time. They call her Aftaimgeta, Knower of the Future.” He pauses, then carefully continues, “Heda, she matches the description of the original skaiheda.”

Lexa exchanges a troubled glance with Gustus. This is the same hearsay she has been receiving for days now, but this mysterious seer being Klark kom skaikru is news. By what means are she and the other Sky People making her people believe this outlandish scheme?

“Return to skaikru,” Lexa instructs the messengers. “Tell them there are no peace talks. They have done enough damage and harmed enough of our people that war is the only answer here. The have until tomorrow to leave this land.”

They hesitate. “What of our people, heda?”

Lexa gazes out over the conglomeration of tents surrounding the Sky People’s camp. “Tell them the same. I will not let a conspiracy change my decision.”

As the messengers pass this information along, Lexa commands her army to settle down and prepare for a siege. War tents are pitched. Torches and campfires are lit. As Lexa’s own tent is placed behind her and her throne erected, she carefully watches those camping below. As the sun crosses the sky, there appears to be many discussions among the Sky People. There are arguments, and at one point what Lexa can only assume is a short panic before most of them retreat into their metal coffin, leaving only warriors with guns behind, but they do not leave.

Similarly, there are many arguments between Lexa’s own people camping at the base of the hill, but unlike the Sky People, they seem to recognize the very real threat the Coalition army poses. They douse their fires and collapse their tents. By the time the sun has set on the horizon, many of the congregation have departed. But when Lexa emerges from her tent the next morning, she notes with dismay that nearly half of the outer camp still remains.

“It will be difficult to get past their guns and fence in such a bare space,” Gustus remarks at her side as they gaze over the valley. He gestures to their people still camped at the base of the hill. “What will we do about them, heda? Our own people stand in our war path.”

Lexa bites her lip. The last thing she wants to do is harm her own people, and yet… “They were told of our plan to attack. They had their chance to depart. Instead of listening to their Commander, they have chosen to cling to the lies of the invaders. We cannot let this stop us.”

It is then that a sudden cheer arises from the mob surrounding the fence. The people surge forward as a blonde woman emerges from the metal coffin and approaches the two messengers Lexa has left camped at the gate. While one messenger fends off the crowd, the other exchanges words with the woman through the fence. Eventually, the messenger mounts his horse and rides back up the hill towards them. He must force his way through the crowd, which now clamors for the woman’s attention. As she begins to speak to them individually, the messenger comes to a halt in front of Lexa and dismounts.

“Heda, the leader of the Sky People wishes to meet with you for peace talks.”

“We already discussed this,” Lexa growls. “There will be no peace talks.”

“She tells me she will come up here alone,” he insists, “without guard or weapon.”

That statement gives her pause. Not only that, but the messenger’s expression is troubled. He looks deeply unsettled.

“What else did she say to you?”

“She knew my name, heda,” the man replies quietly, his face ashen. “She knew my houmon’s name, my nontu’s name, and the name of the village from which I hail.” He swallows hard. “She even knew the name of my gapa, and how many kill marks I carry upon my back.”

Lexa stares at him. Even she knows not all of these things. Hel, she can hardly remember the names of most of her warriors, much less where they hail from or the names they give to their mounts. What tek do these Sky People have that allows this aftaimgeta to know so much?

“Very well,” she finds herself saying. “Bring her here. I will meet with her.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Indra and Gustus looking at her with wide eyes. The messenger nods shakily to her command and mounts his horse before galloping down the hill once more. As he does, Lexa whirls and strides into the war tent.

“Are you sure about this, heda?” Gustus asks as he ducks into the tent behind her. “This woman clearly has some black magic which allows her to charm others to her side.”

“That is why you are here, Gostos,” Lexa replies as she settles into her throne, “and you, Indra. I want to meet with this aftaimgeta and see her so-called fortune telling myself, but I also wish for her to understand that I will not cease until skaikru is dead or gone. You are both here to ensure I do not become her thrall.”

She only receives two nods in return. She pulls her dagger from her sheath and begins to fiddle with it. Not only has she found it to be a good intimidation tactic, but it will help ground her should this witch’s magic start to take hold.

Several minutes pass before there is a commotion outside. Gustus steps out to meet the Sky People’s leader. He sweeps the tent flap aside, and through the opening, Lexa glimpses that same crowd of her people baying for aftaimgeta’s attention. A line of Coalition warriors pushes them back and a pretty young woman with blond hair steps into the war tent, escorted by Gustus. She approaches the throne as Lexa twirls her dagger in her hands.

“You’re the one who burned 300 of my warriors alive.”

Lexa raises her gaze up to look at this Klark kom skairku, this skaiheda and aftaimgeta. As her eyes meet silvery blue ones, a strange look passes over the blonde’s face. Her eyelids flutter for several long moments. When her gaze refocuses on the Commander, Lexa expects to see anger or nervousness - perhaps even fear in her expression. Instead, she sees only a look of such horror and despair that it chills Lexa to the bone. Even Gustus and Indra shift uncomfortably on either side of her.

Clarke’s lips part and a single tear trickles down her cheek. "Leksa."

Chapter Text

"Leksa."

Lexa stiffens in response to her familiarity. “You will know me as the Commander, Clarke of the Sky People.”

“I…” The blonde squeezes her eyes shut and scrubs at her cheeks. She seems to be trying to pull herself back from a cliff’s edge. “Ai get in, heda.”

A sharp silence greets that statement. Lexa's warriors shift uneasily. This woman has been but an enemy in their lands for a little over a month, but the trigedasleng rolls off her tongue as if she has been speaking it her entire life.

Indra scowls on Lexa’s left. “How do you know our tongue, trapfapa?”

Even as she tries to steady herself, a small smirk touches the corner of Clarke’s lips. She appears to be almost amused by the insult. She takes a deep breath and opens her eyes. Lexa is struck by the depth in them, as though they have seen countless summers and watched Praimfaya itself. “I hear it in the futures of your people, Indra kom trikru,” she states, as if it is the simplest of things.

Indra’s displeasure intensifies. “You do not hear my people,” she growls. “You trick them.”

Clarke shakes her head. “I don’t. Ai jos dig auda emo au.”

Lexa is unsettled at the ease with which she speaks their language. “Then learn this,” she interjects. “The Sky People are invaders on this land. You have massacred my people in cold blood. Any… skills you may have do not change the fact that your people are not welcome here. You will leave, or you will die. What is your answer, Clarke of the Sky People?"

Clarke’s gaze moves from Indra to Lexa. When she looks at her, Lexa sees a storm of emotions flash across her face in quick succession. There is fear, anger, self-loathing, and finally, sadness. The series of expressions settles into one of affection, and then a careful blankness. Lexa’s skin crawls.

“I do have an answer,” the blonde replies. “An offer.”

Lexa scoffs. “This is not a negotiation. I have no interest in your so-called sight, Clarke.”

But Clarke only shakes her head. “I’m not offering you my sight, Commander. I can help you beat the Mountain Men.”

That gets Lexa’s attention. She pauses, twirling her knife between her fingers while she considers the woman before her. She had expected offers of future-sight and guidance in exchange for peace, not a bid to join arms against the worst of enemies. What is this so-called soothsayer playing at?

“Go on.”

“Hundreds of your people are being held prisoner inside Mount Weather,” Clarke tells her, all urgency and certainty. “Kept in cages, their blood is used as medicine.”

Lexa feels a pit open up in her stomach. “How do you know this?”

“Because I saw them.”

“Your so-called visions?” Lexa demands.

Oddly enough, Clarke only chuckles. “No.” Then she sobers so quickly it nearly gives Lexa whiplash. “My people are prisoners there too… I was one of them.”

“Must we listen to this bandragen, heda?” Indra hisses. “No one escapes the Mountain.”

“I did,” Clarke insists, “with Anya. We fought our way out together.” She holds up her hand. “Before you argue with me more, Indra, let me show you something.”

If the situation were any less serious or bizarre, Lexa could almost laugh at the expression on Indra’s face. The hardened trikru chief looks as if she is about to explode. Lexa has never seen her face turn that color before. But she’s forced to focus back on the conversation at hand when Clarke reaches into her pocket. She seems unfazed at the sudden bristle of swords around her. Instead of a knife or gun, she draws out a brown braid of hair.

“You were her second.” Clarke states it as a fact. “I’m sure she would have wanted you to have this.”

She takes slow, measured steps towards the throne, eyeing Gustus and Indra carefully as she does so. She hands the braid over, careful not to make contact, and Lexa immediately recognizes it as Anya’s. It’s been a long time, but after so many eves spent crafting one another’s braids, there can be no mistaking it. Lexa’s old mentor is well and truly dead.

Clearly, Clarke is already aware of Anya’s relationship with her. She need not share any more context. Instead, as she reels over this new confirmation, she says, “I’m told you knew her name when you first met.”

Clarke pauses for a long moment. Lexa can tell she is weighing how much to reveal. Carefully, she says, “I only knew her name once I saw her. I don’t live the future of those I speak to. I only see... and learn.”

That piques Lexa’s interest. “You do not know of a person until you lay eyes upon them.”

Clarke simply shrugs. “Not a completely accurate description, but something like that. Even I don’t know all that my sight can see.” She shoots a glare at the floor. “A gift, I’ve been told.”

Lexa is surprised at the distaste in her voice. She has only ever been told of Clarke’s abilities in reverence and awe, but it seems aftaimgeta herself does not feel the same way. That being said, the conversation has given her the time she needed to regain her bearings. She only has one more question for Clarke as she gently sets Anya’s braid aside. “Did she die well?”

“She did,” Clarke answers. “As she was fated to. By my side, trying to get a message to you.”

Lexa scowls. “You speak of fate, Clarke, but I’m still waiting for your offer.”

“The Mountain Men are turning your people into Reapers.” She pauses to take in their reactions before forging on, “I can turn them back.”

“Impossible,” Indra snarls. “Heda, ai beg yu, teik ai frag em op.”

“I’ve done it,” Clarke insists, “with Lincoln.”

“Indra,” Lexa warns.

But the chief does not listen. She stalks down the steps towards Clarke, sneering. “That traitor is the reason my village was slaughtered by your people-”

“Don’t blame Lincoln for a crime he didn’t commit.” Clarke response is immediate and firm. She takes a determined step forward so she is nose-to-nose with the chief of Tondc. “The man you once considered a son deserves better than that from you. Yu niron seimwe kik raun, Indra. Let me help him, please.”

Indra reaches for her sword. “How dare-”

“Em pleni!” Lexa barks, surging to her feet. “Indra, chil yu daun!”

It takes all of her willpower, but Indra follows her command. Grinding her teeth, the seasoned warrior sheathes her half-drawn sword and steps away from Clarke, then past her. She settles in the far corner of the war tent, seething. Clarke’s eyes follow her, oddly unfazed and irreproachable. Her gaze returns to Lexa as she begins to draw nearer.

“You antagonize and insult my people, Clarke of the Sky People,” Lexa growls, stepping down from her throne until she and Clarke are mere inches apart. “You are walking on thin ice. You say you can turn Reapers back into men?”

Clarke nods. “Yes.” She says it with such certainty that Lexa almost believes her right then and there. Almost.

“Prove it,” Lexa demands. “Show me Lincoln.” 

Clarke proves her words, as she will so many times over, and Lexa can only wonder what she is capable of.

Even as her half-concocted plan falls apart around her; even as their people draw their weapons on one another, Clarke is the very embodiment of composure. Lexa is sure that they are all about to slaughter each other here in this cramped metal space, but Clarke only kneels at Octavia’s side and places a comforting hand on her back.

Octavia looks to her, tears streaming down her face. “Clarke, please – is this…”

Clarke smiles and shakes her head. “Not yet.” She glances up at the woman who holds a crackling staff in her hand. “Mom, I know what you’re thinking. It will work. Do it.”

So she does, and Lincoln is wrenched gasping back into life. Not only that, but his recognition of Octavia is clear. He speaks the name of the love he gave up everything for, and they all realize in that moment that he is no longer a monster. Once again, Lexa cannot deny what her own senses are telling her. She sheathes her sword as Clarke rises to her feet. Despite all of them facing a fight to the death mere moments ago, the blonde smiles at her, and Lexa must swallow down the flutter she feels in her chest.

What is this?

Later, as they stand yet again in the war tent, Lexa mulls over all that has happened. As she does, Clarke’s face shifts between those same emotions Lexa had seen before. The determination and anger she understands, and though the sadness and self-loathing confuse her, it is the flitting looks of fondness which make her uneasy. Despite wearing her heart on her sleeve, there seems to be so much going on behind Clarke’s eyes that Lexa is not privy to. Even after all these years of seeing behind others’ masks and carefully crafting her own, she cannot begin to fathom all of the things that Clarke believes about her and the world around them.

“Lincoln’s recovery was… impressive,” she finally admits, when she can stand the warmth in Clarke’s expression no longer. “You seemed to know he would not die today.”

Clarke finds sudden interest in the grainy wooden war table between them. “Lincoln… is too strong a man to lay down his life without intention.”

Lexa wants to ask what she means, but the pain in her voice is unmistakable. Deciding to let the matter drop, she chooses instead to focus on their final obstacle. “You may have your truce, Clarke.”

The blonde lifts her gaze back up to Lexa. She beams at her. “Thank you, Lexa.”

“There is one more thing I need in return,” Lexa stipulates, tamping down that fluttering feeling once more. These people are not allies yet.

“Anything.”

“Deliver me the one you call Finn,” Lexa tells her. “Our truce begins with his death.”

That same strange look from when they first met passes over Clarke’s face. Her eyes fall to the floor and a wave of despair seems to wash over her. “I understand now,” she murmurs, not quite to herself. “So this is where it ends.” She looks back up at Lexa, and she doesn’t miss the tears welling up in those silver-blue eyes. “You will have your justice, Commander. Despite any efforts to make it otherwise, he will die on this hill.”

Lexa narrows her eyes suspiciously. “You care for him.”

“…I do.”

“Yet you claim he will die here, even as aftaimgeta?”

Clarke turns away from her as the first of her tears begin to fall. “I do.”

“Why care for someone when you know they will die?” Lexa wonders, shaking her head.

Clarke lets out a sob. “If you only knew, Lexa."

Chapter Text

Again, it is as Clarke claims, and Lexa finds herself wondering if Clarke only knows intimately the way in which the people and the world around her work.

The Sky People, and even Clarke herself do all they can to protect Finn. While Lexa allows Indra to take the matter into her own hands – it was her village who suffered at the murderer’s hands after all - one of Lexa’s men tell her it is the seer herself who sneaks away with Finn into the forest. Even the other leader of the Sky People makes clear her intention to protect this killer, but at the end of the day, he proves himself to be not quite so selfish after all and gives himself up for the safety of his people.

After the sunlight has fallen, as Lexa straps her sword to her waist and finishes preparing herself for the grim spectacle ahead, she hears, “Let me through.”

When she steps out of the war tent, it is to see Clarke facing off with Indra once more. There is a small blotch of blood blooming around the tip of Indra’s spear, which pokes neatly at the blonde's stomach. Beyond her, at the base of the hill, both the Sky People and the villagers which had gathered for aftaimgeta’s guidance stand witness to the scene. Their collective silence hangs heavy in the air.

“Let her pass,” Lexa allows, and Indra does, though her sneer says she would rather finish the job. As Clarke approaches, Lexa can see only desperation in her eyes. “You bleed for nothing. You cannot stop this.”

"I know,” comes the response. Yet again, she looks so solemn, and Lexa finds herself wondering how she can stand so strong here before her with such despair written on her face. “But maybe you can.”

There is a commotion as the murderer is brought forward for his reckoning. Lexa’s warriors strap him to the post erected solely for his suffering, and she watches Clarke’s expression convulse with horror, as if all of her worst nightmares are coming true in this moment.

“Show our people how powerful you are,” she begs, and Lexa does not miss the way she includes their peoples together as one. “Show them you can be merciful. Show them you can change fate itself.”

“Fate cannot be changed.” Shouldn’t she of all people know this? “Blood must have blood.”

“No!” Clarke laments. “Jus no drein jus daun! Can’t you see it, Leksa? This never had to be our way! I’m the one who will be soaked in blood!”

But Lexa can only shake her head, not understanding what it is that Clarke sees beyond this dark night. “But this is our way, Clarke. Finn is guilty.”

“He did it for me!” Clarke’s hands shoot up to her face with jagged fingers, as if with the intention to rip her own eyes from her skull. “I know he did it for me!”

Lexa swallows hard. Justice must be served, despite this woman falling apart before her. “Then he dies for you.”

 Clarke’s nails dig into her skin. Her eyelids are fluttering, and Lexa can all but see images flashing behind her expression. For a very long, long moment, there is only horror and madness evident in those gritted teeth and widened eyes. Lexa thinks she may have just turned this woman to insanity. But then, Clarke finally – slowly – lowers her hands back down to her sides. Now there seems to be nothing left in her but hopelessness. “So it is,” she whispers, so only the two of them can hear it. She meets Lexa’s gaze with tears in her eyes. “Please let me say goodbye, Lexa.”

Lexa pauses, considering that. Really, she should say no, but Clarke had said it herself – Finn will die on this hill, despite any of her own attempts to make it otherwise. There really is nothing the blonde can do at this point to stop what is going to happen to him. If she had known what Azgeda would do to Costia, she wonders, would she have asked for the same mercy? So she nods, and lets Clarke say her goodbyes to the boy she seems to care for so greatly, somehow despite knowing his fate.

Clarke does not run. She walks with slow, measured steps to Finn, almost as if to delay what she knows is coming. When she reaches him, she wraps him in a desperate embrace and pulls him into a kiss. She seems to care not that hundreds of eyes watch her, or that there are dozens around who can hear her. Lexa can only barely hear their conversation, but she can hear it all the same.

“I love you too.”

“I’m scared,” is all that Finn can seem to say. “I didn’t see anything when you kissed me, Clarke. This is it, isn’t it?”

“It’ll be okay,” Clarke sobs, hugging him once more. “You’re gonna be okay.”

As they embrace, Finn says something else in Clarke’s ear, too quiet for Lexa to hear. He rests his head on her shoulder and lets her hold him for a long moment. Then, Clarke steps away, a small, bloody knife in her hand. As she turns away from Finn, Lexa sees the large blood stain spreading across the front of his shirt. She sees the way his head and body sag, the way his chest is unmoving, ands she knows that it is as Clarke had said. Finn has died upon this hill.

Is it Clarke who spins fate to her will?

Finn is dead, as Clarke vowed he would be, and Lexa instructs the skaiheda to choose her attendance. She does, and her assembly totals at less than a dozen.

Yet, as they trek to Tondc in order to join murderer and murdered in fire, that number seems to multiply until there are nearly a hundred kyongeda men, woman, and children marching behind them. The Sky People walk with their wagon up front, Lexa’s guard riding after them, and the crowd bringing up the rear. Lexa’s guard seems uneasy stuck between the two, but the people seem to be keeping their distance… for now.

“I do not like this,” Gustus grunts, glancing over his shoulder at the congregation of civilians crammed far back onto the path behind them. “We are an easy target like this. They are so bewitched by this aftaimgeta, to the point of lunacy.”

The crowd makes her nervous, too. But she would be lying if she said she wasn’t expecting it. “Don’t worry so much, Gustus. Before we began our march I ordered extra warriors to border us,” she replies coolly. She had chosen to rally fighters from trikru in particular. They know the area well, and are adept at moving quickly through the forest while watching for signs of trouble.

Gustus turns back around in his saddle. “This alliance is too risky, heda. These Sky People are more like the Mountain Men that us, and aftaimgeta makes our own people forget their place.”

Lexa glances back at the crowd following behind them, then considers Clarke’s back as she talks with the tall dark-haired man named Bellamy, who seems to be one of her closest attendants. “I understand your concerns, Gustus,” she admits. Indeed, this whole experience with the soothsayer skaiheda has been beyond anything she could have predicted when she began marching with her army. “But it’s as you’ve always told me. All alliances are risky. This is for the good of the Coalition, for the chance to free our people of the shadow of maunon.”

“This could kill the Coalition,” Gustus tells her.

“The Coalition, or me?”

“You are the Coalition, heda,” he insists.

Lexa pauses. “Then do your job and protect me.”

It is late morning by the time they finally arrive in Tondc.

There are many cheers of heda! as Lexa dismounts her horse and approaches the gate with her guards. As she does, those trikru warriors who Lexa has commanded to watch their borders begin to emerge from the trees. The Sky People look about uneasily upon realizing their numbers far outweighed their own that entire way. Lexa commands her accompanying warriors to keep the crowd behind them outside of the walls, lest this tense visit turn to chaos.

After the Sky People disarm, the gates of Tondc open, and Lexa leads the smaller congregation through. The calls from those standing on the walls of Tondc turn to confusion at the crowd behind them, then to anger as they sight the Sky People. They’ve only made it a dozen yards inside before they are confronted by a  ragged man with long dark hair.

“Skaikru don jak eting op kom ai,” he tells them, and Lexa feels her gut twist at the sorrow and loss in his words. “Ai houmon, ai yongon…”

“Step of,” Gustus warns.

But the man only shakes his head. “Ripa nou gou teik in hir.”

Lexa swallows hard. Despite his sorrow, she cannot afford to let her people doubt her actions now. Sometimes, examples must be made. She looks to Gustus and gives him a permissive nod, but before he can move, Clarke steps past him to approach the man.

“Sindri,” she greets, holding up her hands in a show of peace. The clearing suddenly goes very quiet. “Fiya in bilaik oyu blodon, ba raitnes don huk op.”

“What the hell?” Bellamy mutters a few feet behind them. “When did she learn how to do that?”

Sindri pales in response to Clarke’s words. “Ha dula yu get ai, ripa?”

“Ai laik Klark kom skaikru, aftaimgeta,” Clarke replies. “Ai nou na rez op oyu niron, ba yu bro Orling kik raun tiya Maun. Beja, teik oso sis kep em in.”

“Lincoln,” Octavia murmurs. “I can’t keep up. What is she saying?”

“His wife and child were killed by Sky People, but she tells him justice has been served,” Lincoln translates quietly for the Sky People still standing witness behind them. “She speaks his name, the name of his brother, and asks him to let us help get him out of the Mountain.”

“Aftaimgeta?" Sindri utters in recognition. Lexa wonders just how far Clarke’s legend has already reached. “Orling kik raun? Em mebi kep in?”

Clarke nods. “Em na kep in.” She holds out a hand to him with a gentle smile. “Teik ai tich yu op.”

“She says his brother will be saved,” Lincoln mutters, almost to himself. “She wants to show him.” Out of the corner of her eye, Lexa sees him look to Octavia. “She can do that?”

Tentatively, Sindri reaches out to take Clarke’s hand. The moment their fingers touch, his eyelids flutter, in much the same way Clarke’s did when she and Lexa first met. After a long moment, he steps away, tears streaming down his face. “Orling…!” He drops to his knees before Clarke, hands clasped together as if in prayer. “Mochof, aftaimgeta, mochof!”

It is such a juxtaposition to his attitude mere moments ago that Lexa can hardly believe what she’s seeing.  But Clarke only smiles once more and shakes her head. “Yu na chof ai kom teik sis oso au.”

“Thank me by letting us help,” Octavia translates, shaking her head with wonder. "Damn, Clarke’s got game.”

Not quite the words she would have used, but Lexa can’t help but agree. A glance about the clearing reveals a ring of reverent faces. Though the Sky People may have needed a translation, she knows her own people heard every word. While many of them and Lexa herself may doubt Clarke’s abilities, it is hard to deny the sudden shift in Sindri’s attitude, or the relief and happiness evident in his face, so opposite to his hatred mere moments ago. Even so, Lexa can still see so many expressions of fury and distrust. As Clarke helps Sindri to his feet, Lexa steps forward.

“The Sky People march with us now,” she announces. "We build this alliance to save our people from the Mountain Men. Make no mistake, anyone who tries to break it will pay with their life.”

The faces of her warriors around the clearing show that they understand her, despite her not setting an example. Satisfied, she turns to continue further into Tondc, but stops short when she sees Clarke now turned towards her, a horrified look on her face. She is not looking at Lexa, but instead staring at Gustus. He shifts uneasily at Lexa’s side.

Lexa frowns. "Clarke?"

But Clarke only turns away from her, as she so often seems to. "Jus no drien jus daun, Leksa," she says, voice full of sorrow. She tilts her head back to look up at the sky that she and her sight fell from. "As if fate would ever let me protect you."

Chapter Text

Later, after Finn and the murdered villagers have been joined together in fire, Lexa finds herself watching over the smoldering ashes with Clarke. They stand in silence for a long time, but for some reason, Lexa feels she must offer condolence to the sad and lost look in Clarke’s eyes.

“I lost someone special to me too,” she confesses.

“You speak of Costia.”

A chill goes down Lexa's spine. She turns towards Clarke, aghast. “How do you know her name?”

“Don’t be so suspicious of me, Lexa.” Her voice holds the smallest hint of mirth, as if she expects no less from her. “That was more than two years gone. I fell from the sky six weeks ago. I had nothing to do with it. I only know about her because of how you whisper it within yourself.” She looks over at Lexa, and she expects to see pity or even judgement in her eyes, but there is only kindness and understanding. “I’m sorry for what happened to her, though. No one should have to go through that.”

Lexa swallows hard, gripping the hilt of her sword so tightly her hand aches. Everything Clarke has told her would happen has indeed come to pass. Even she cannot explain away all that she has seen Clarke say and do. Still, Lexa wants to believe that this is through some machination of Clarke’s own will, because if Clarke truly can see beyond the present, can see beyond what lies only in front of them, then Clarke can see inside her, too. Lexa refuses to believe that all of the walls she’s built to protect herself are nothing more than a looking glass to this woman. It’s not possible.

She must believe this fact.

“I thought I’d never be able to get over the pain,” Lexa admits in lieu of asking the same questions or saying any of that. “But I did.”

“Let me guess,” Clarke says dryly. “You’re going to tell me that love is weakness.”

Lexa can only blink at her, because yes, that is the wisdom she had been hoping to impart. “But it is, Clarke,” she insists. “By letting yourself care so deeply, you put those you love in danger, and when you inevitably lose them, the pain will only persist.”

But Clarke only quirks a brow at her. “Careful, Lexa. Your Titus is showing.”

The hairs on the back of Lexa’s neck stand up. “How do you know of Titus?”

“How could I not?” Clarke grumbles, glaring at nothing in particular. “He’s not exactly subtle.”

An accurate description of Titus if Lexa had ever heard one. But the way that Clarke keeps throwing out names she certainly should not know is making Lexa ill at ease, though she would never admit that out loud. She should make her point and be done with it.

“I mean what I say, Clarke.” The blonde looks at her, brow furrowed. “It is clear that losing those you care for is painful for you. If you don’t want those around you to be hurt, then you must recognize that caring for them will only place them – and you – in harm’s way. “

Clarke blinks hard and looks away from her. “Like it places you in harm's way?” she murmurs, staring through the smoke, and Lexa finds herself wondering yet again what it is that she sees beyond that veil. “If I could, I would have stopped caring a long time ago, Lexa. In all this time, despite knowing everyone who would be lost, I never could stop caring. You would think I would have learned my lesson by now.” She offers a bitter smile. “But here I am, still trying to change fate.”

“We can only focus on the now,” Lexa replies. She will not pretend to know fate standing beside someone such as Clarke. She can only share what she has learned. “This is not the past, and not the future. The dead are gone, Clarke. The living are hungry.”

At Clarke’s dismayed expression, Lexa decides they’ve both had enough. The smoke and this disturbing conversation are starting to make her skin itch. Without another word, she turns and begins to make her way towards the dining hall, expecting the other woman to follow.

“Lexa.” The gravity in Clarke’s voice stops her, and she turns back to look at the blonde. She stares hard into the ashes of Finn, chewing her lip. After a long moment, she says, “I know you don’t believe in me yet, but please listen to me. If you let Gustus dine with us, he’ll die.”

Her words are so sudden and uninvited that it takes a moment for her to register them. Lexa at first feels confusion. “What?”

Clarke looks up at her nervously. “I don’t know why or how it happens, but Gustus joins us at the table, and because of that, he dies. You’ll kill him.”

Another unexpected statement, but this time, it is anger which boils to the surface. Here she is attempting to prepare Clarke for the trials ahead of them, and this kodchuwaskrish is the thanks she gets? “I would never do such a thing,” she growls. “Gustus has protected me with his life since the moment I became Commander. I could never repay him back for all he has done for me.”

“And I’m not arguing with that.” Clarke hurries to say, holding up her hands and turning to face her fully. “But I’m telling you, Leksa, if he goes into that room, you will have to kill him. Please, I just want to protect you-”

“We are not friends, Clarke,” Lexa spits, and the blonde flinches back as if Lexa had physically struck her. “I do not know which of your hallucinations has you believing otherwise, but we are enemies just become allies. I do not trust you, let alone expect you to protect me. That is his job.”

“Hallucinations?” The hurt on Clarke’s face is palpable. “Lexa, I’m just trying to-”

“To isolate and seduce me?” Lexa demands, suddenly understanding why Clarke keeps looking at her with such affection. The realization stings more than it should. “To make me another one of your thralls?”

“What? No! I just…” Clarke stops and grits her teeth at Lexa’s expression. “You know what? You’re right, Commander. We’re not friends.” She moves closer to Lexa, until she can see the angry tears welling up in her silvery blue eyes. “But we’re not enemies anymore, either. Just remember what me and my people have given up to be here.”

Without waiting for her response, Clarke stalks past Lexa and disappears down into the dining hall.

Lexa, Gustus, and Indra are the last ones to enter the hall. As everyone settles into their places, Lincoln and Octavia trade polite, if awkward nods with several of her guard. Across the table, Clarke blanches at Gustus’s presence. Her eyes dart to Lexa’s guarded expression, then settle on his face. She studies him, as if to remember each detail in full: his towering height, his intimidating stature, his scars and markings and the color of his eyes and beard. Even as the conversation proceeds around her, Clarke only stares at him. At Lexa’s side, he shifts uneasily beneath the intensity of her gaze.

Once everyone has settled, Marcus unwraps a bottle of clear liquid, which Lexa can only assume is alcohol considering the situation. “Please accept this gift, Commander. We drink this at special occasions. I believe this qualifies.”

He reaches across the table as if to hand it to her. Instead, Gustus takes the bottle and gives it to Lexa. She considers it before looking back to the man whose sincerity and bravery she's come to respect. “Thank you, Marcus of the Sky People.” Was it really less than a week ago that she watched him slit his own wrist in a lame attempt to save his friend? What a strange world to live in.

“You’re welcome, Lexa… kom trikru.” He stumbles over the trigedasleng, a paltry imitation of the way in which it rolls off Clarke’s tongue. Lexa appreciates the gesture all the same. “Just don’t drink too much of it.”

Lexa looks to Clarke. Despite their previous interaction, it the two of them that this alliance is built upon, she knows. “Clarke.” The blonde’s stare breaks from Gustus. She seems almost surprised that Lexa is speaking to her. “Let us drink together.”

Clarke grimaces. What a poor look for an alliance! “It would be my pleasure.”

Lexa fills two cups with the liquor Marcus provided, feeling Clarke watch her movements the entire time. She keeps one, and hands the other across the table to the leader of the Sky People. The blonde takes it, taking almost exaggerated care not to touch her.

“Heda, allow me.” Lexa hands her cup to Gustus. Clarke’s eyes widen and stay wide as he takes a sip, then hands it back to her. Ignoring the drama folding out on the face directly across from her, Lexa takes in the rest of those stood at the long the table. “Tonight we celebrate our newfound peace,” she declares. “Tomorrow, we plan our war.” She raises her cup towards Clarke, and despite the miserable look on her face, the blonde returns the gesture. “To those we’ve lost, and to those we shall soon find.” They lift their cups to their lips together.

“Ugh!” Gustus suddenly collapses forward into the table, coughing and retching.

Lexa glances across the table to the Sky People to see a row of alarmed and confused expressions. Clarke’s face has drained of color. Words of “poison!” are uttered by one of Lexa’s guard and Bellamy knocks the cup from Clarke’s hand. But then Lexa’s attention is pulled away as Gustus stumbles backwards and collapses against the wall behind them. He slides to the ground, healers on all sides of him, and Lexa can hear her heart beating loud in her ears.

No, not him. Not him too.

There is the sound of sword leaving its sheath. “It was the Sky People!” Indra proclaims, pointing her weapon across the table. The meal is pulled aside as Lexa’s men slide the table out of the way, preparing for the combat that is inevitably coming.

But the Sky People make no move to attack. Bellamy steps in front of his people with his arms held out, as if he alone can protect them. Clarke moves forward to be at his side. “This wasn’t us,” she insists. Despite the situation devolving around them, she is calm, so much like when Lincoln returned from the dead. “You know this wasn’t us.”

“Sou nou teik em gon op!” Lexa demands of the healers. She then turns to focus on the hostility unfolding before her. Gustus must not die, but she cannot afford to get distracted with so many enemies here.

“Gon yo we!” Indra commands. “Pat emo daun!”

The healers haul Gustus to his feet as the rest of Lexa’s warriors force the Sky People into a bodily search.

Clarke looks to Lexa. “We didn’t do this, Lexa.” There is that certainty there in her voice again. She seems so sure of it. Does she really believe she knows the hearts of her people so well?

“Gustus warned me about you but I didn’t listen.” Again, the betrayal stings more than it should.

“Lexa, please…” Clarke begs, seemingly ignorant of the warrior patting her down. “Don’t hurt any of them. It wasn't us!”

“Tell me something, Clarke,” Lexa snarls. “When you plunged the knife into the boy of the heart you loved, did you not wish that it was mine?”

Clarke is already shaking her head before Lexa has even finished. “Never, Lexa,” she whispers. “I could never hurt you.”

“Heda.” Lexa’s attention is pulled away as one of her warriors pulls a vial from the coat of the Sky Person with the red coat – Raven, Lexa thinks is her name. He sniffs it, then holds it out to her. “Dison don kamp raun em oukou.”

“That’s not mine!” Raven protests adamantly. “I’m telling you, that’s not mine! He put it there when he searched me!”

All eyes are suddenly on Lexa as she inspects the vial. They are waiting for her decision. She could do it, now, and order for the execution of Clarke and all of her people with the wave of her hand. She would be within her rights. No one would question her. But a look at Clarke’s face, and the blonde is staring only at her. There is no panic or anger there. Despite Lexa’s scathing words, there is only sadness there and…pity?

Lexa grits her teeth. “No Sky Person leaves this room!” She sweeps past the Sky People and out of the dining hall, the rest of her people on her heels. The door to the dining hall clangs shut and locks behind her.

Lexa’s people, and Indra in particular, call for the immediate deaths of the Sky People. All of them. Instead of listening to their pleas as she knows so many of her generals gladly would, Lexa considers what has gotten her so far: her mercy, her ruthlessness, her intelligence, and her flexibility. So rather than committing the Sky People to a slaughter, as the healers work on Gustus, she paces the room, considering her options, considering Clarke’s words.

“Just remember what me and my people have given up to be here.”

The Sky People have given up one of their own for this alliance, even if he was guilty of a heinous crime. Despite Clarke being the one to save Finn from the pain of eighteen deaths, it was clear in Raven's reaction to his death that the boy was important to the other woman as well. Would she really jeopardize the alliance he gave his life for only to get vengeance on Lexa?

Lexa has come to believe that the Sky People are an intensely emotional people, ruled by their feelings and beliefs rather than logic. Although, can she not say the same for her own people, baying for blood as they are? Yet, she had seen the looks on the faces of the Sky People when Gustus had collapsed. Lexa knows they need this alliance just as – if not more – than she does. Bellamy had knocked the cup from Clarke’s hand as if to protect her, too. She has seen first-hand Kane’s desire for peace in the way he has been willing to spill his own blood. Would he really hand her a bottle of poison after all he and his companions have given to be here? If the Sky People really planned to destroy this alliance and commit more crimes against her people, why would they do such a foolish thing as to leave their weapons at the gate?

But then… Clarke has told her not to take Gustus into the dining hall, as if she had known this would happen. Even with her so-called sight, could she really have known he would drink before Lexa? From how Clarke had been about to drink herself, it doesn’t seem the custom of poison-tasting extends to them, so why would they assume Lexa wouldn’t drink it? If the drink was poisoned, why did Clarke seem as if she was about to drink, too?

“Never. I could never hurt you.”

To Lexa’s relief, Gustus recovers quickly. He’s back on his feet within two hours. Unlike her warriors and generals, he knows how she is when it comes to difficult decisions such as this. He lets her pace and think, but his very presence is enough to remind Lexa what else has been lost to these people.

As much as Lexa wants to simply kill them all for attempting to take Gustus from her, she can’t fool herself. Something simply doesn’t add up. Ultimately, though, that doesn’t matter. All external evidence really does point to the Sky People attempting to poison Lexa, even if she finds herself doubting that very fact. Once again, justice must be served. So she finds a compromise. She pacifies her own people's dissatisfaction by promising a war following the immediate dissolution of the short-lived alliance. She takes Raven as payment for the crime and releases the rest of the Sky People, much to the chagrin of her own people.

Soon, Lexa finds herself standing before the dark-haired woman who she knows must already be suffering enough inside. “I take no joy in this, Raven,” she tells her, knife in hand. “But this time, justice must be done.”

“I didn’t do it,” Raven insists, trembling in her restraints. “How is that justice?”

The certainty and sincerity in her voice really does make Lexa wonder again if she should stop. But there is no convincing her people otherwise. All of the evidence points to the Sky People. Even if it’s wrong, this is what needs to happen. Swallowing down her doubt, Lexa reaches out with her blade and makes the first mark. Indra comes forward next, justified and satisfied in her fury. The woman has always been more ruthless than even Lexa. But then, as the third person steps forward to carve into Raven, a voice rings out, clear and certain, “Stop!”

Lexa glances back to see Clarke, her path blocked by two of her warriors. “Let her pass,” she allows.

“One of your people tried to kill you, Lexa,” Clarke says as she approaches, "not one of mine.”

Indra approaches from Lexa’s left side. “You should have run.”

“I can prove it.” Clarke all but ignores the general.

Ryder approaches with the bottle given to Lexa by Marcus. Without a moment’s hesitation, Clarke takes it from him, pops the cork off, and drains several swallows into her mouth. Lexa can only imagine she needs the drink after all that has happened, but she never pegged Clarke as the type to voluntarily take a mouthful of poison. But then, several moments pass, and she does not collapse or begin vomiting. She only stares back at Lexa. She looks so certain, but why does she look so sad?

“Explain," Lexa demands.

“The poison wasn’t in the bottle. It was in the cup.”

“Dison laik hau kom aftaimgeta, heda,” Gustus murmurs into Lexa’s ear. “Nou ge pung klin.”

As Lexa considers the situations before her, Bellamy shifts uneasily. “It was you." His eyes point to Gustus. “He tested the cup; he searched Raven.”

Lexa can hardly believe that this man is accusing Gustus, after all that has just occurred. Do these people not understand loyalty? “Gustus would never harm me.”

“You weren’t the target.” Bellamy’s response is swift and sure. “The alliance was.”

Clarke glances back at him, then turns to Lexa with sudden clarity in her eyes. “This wasn’t us and you know it,” she tells her.

Lexa’s swallows hard, because she does know this. Pacing back and forth around Gustus’s bed, she’d racked her brain for reasons why the Sky People would do this, after everything they’d done to secure this alliance, and despite all of her experience building alliances, she kept coming up empty. It’s true, Gustus really would never harm her, but he has gone over her head before to keep her safe. And…Lexa recalls Gustus's words about the risk of this alliance with the Sky People killing the Coalition and Lexa herself. She recalls Clarke’s words at the ashes of Finn, imploring her to keep him outside despite not being able to articulate what exactly would happen. Refusing to believe it, she turns to the man she considers her closest advisor and protector.

“Yu don ge finga au, Gostos,” she says. “Ron ai ridiyo op.”

Gustus's gaze jumps from Lexa to Clarke and back. He does not answer for a long moment, and Lexa feels her stomach slowly sinking at what she knows that hesitation means. “This alliance would cost you your life, heda.” Despite her already dawning realization, the words still sting, and Lexa can’t help the small sound that escapes her. “I could not let that happen.”

Lexa swallows hard as everything clicks into place. Everything Gustus has ever done as her guard has been with the intention to protect her. Even when he has gone over her head in the past, she has always known this to be so. But this time, he has gone too far, and they both know it.

“This treachery will cost you yours,” Lexa rasps, because she must. She must hold true to her words calling for death if her people are to trust her in this alliance and beyond. “Teik em set raun ona tri!”

Lexa can only stare as her warriors move towards Gustus. He’s the fiercest warrior she’s ever known. He could easily throw them off if he wanted to. Instead, he lets them restrain him, giving her the slightest of nods to show his understanding. It must be done. All that Lexa can do now is to take him in, to memorize and remember all that he is before she loses even him forever.

Lexa can feel Clarke’s gaze burning into her back. She dares not turn, lest aftaimgeta see her insides collapsing.

It is just as the soothsayer told her it would be.

An hour later, despite the torture and wounds inflicted, Gustus remains standing. Perhaps it is fitting. He is the fiercest warrior she’s ever known. He’s the only one she’s every seen survive to this point. With every cut of each of her peoples’ blades, Lexa feels as if her own skin is peeling off of her. Her heart is in tatters. Of course he would be the only one she would ever have to end by her own hand. Would this strange, cruel world have it any other way?

So she does what is demanded of her as heda. She plunges her blade into the heart of the man she all but considers her father, and she ends his life. As she pulls her sword from his chest, she stares hard at the ground. For a long moment, she lets her world collapse around her yet again. Then, she takes a deep breath and lifts her gaze up to Clarke, but there is no judgement or mockery in her expression. There is only sadness and understanding. Despite Lexa’s misgivings, Clarke fought for Gustus’s life today. She sought to change the fate she saw for him, and she failed, just as she failed to save Finn. If the forlorn look on her face is anything to go by, Clarke seems to be intimately aware of this fact.

Is Clarke even capable of spinning fate to her will?

Chapter Text

The next morning will find them at the war table deep in the bowels of Tondc. Lexa rose with the sun, but the meeting starts later than she would have liked. They are waiting on Clarke. As her generals file down into the war chamber, one of Lexa’s warriors approaches her.

“Heda,” he says. “I attended the Sky People’s camp as you requested but was unable to find the skaiheda to summon her to the meeting. She is not with them.”

Lexa blinks at him. He does not appear alarmed. “Then where is she?”

“The Sky People told me she is likely tending to her following.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder at the gates of Tondc. “One of the Sky People is searching for her now.”

As if summoned by her name, the gates to Tondc open, and in steps Clarke with an older blonde woman clad in Sky Person armor. Beyond them, Lexa is dismayed to find that aftaimgeta’s congregation has nearly doubled in size. It is rife with excitement, not all of it good. There is cheering and whistling following after the Sky People as they enter Tondc, but also a booing and shouts of “Slip daun, spicha!" At the threshold of the gate, one woman has fallen to her knees beside Clarke, clinging to her sleeve. She is in tears.

“Beja, aftaimgeta!” she wails. “You must change this! You must save him!”

But Clarke only shakes her head. “Not this time, Maia. I’m sorry. I can’t save your son.”

She tries to gently break the woman’s grip, but she only keens louder and hangs on tighter. The older woman accompanying Clarke attempts to pull the crying woman away but she still refuses to let go. The warrior at Lexa’s side moves to assist them. Between the warrior and the Sky Person, they are able to lift the woman off the ground and Clarke pries her fingers away.

“Please be gentle,” Clarke implores as they carry her back out the gates of Tondc. The two deposit the woman into the crowd and Clarke waves for the gates to be closed behind them. She notices Lexa standing at the entrance to the war chamber and walks wearily towards her. As she gets closer, Lexa notices there are dark circles under her eyes.

“Clarke of the Sky People,” Lexa greets. “We were waiting for the last of our attendance to start the war meeting.”

“Right,” Clarke sighs. She refuses to meet her eyes. “Sorry, Lexa.”

“And that was…?” Lexa nods towards the gates and the woman now locked behind them.

“Her name is Mia. Her seven-year-old son stepped on a splinter one week ago while splitting logs for the village. He now has a fever.” Clarke takes a deep breath and looks down to her feet. Quietly, she states, “He will die tomorrow morning.”

“Ah…” Lexa isn’t quite sure how to respond to this. She has no right to speak on the denial of Clarke’s visions after yesterday. “You cannot change fate, Clarke.”

Clarke looks back up at her, and Lexa nearly takes a step back. Her eyes hold none of the kindness or affection Lexa has becomes accustomed too. There is only anger and hurt and loathing. “You don’t need to rub it in, Lexa. This war meeting is useless, anyways. You will make sure of that.”

Lexa is caught off guard by the sudden hostility directed towards her. It takes her a moment to respond. She opens her mouth to ask Clarke what she means by this, but Clarke shakes her head. “You don’t need to know.”

Shooting her one more glare, she stalks past her and down the steps into the war chamber.

Now, Lexa stands with her generals around the table and Clarke and her bodyguard on her left. Even as they argue in circles, Lexa can all but feel the coldness and hostility radiating off of the blonde. She holds no qualms over using it to fight with her generals, despite being outnumbered a dozen to one. Quint, in particular, seems to be having difficulty accepting that they are now fighting the same enemy.

“This argument is useless!” he insists. “If they can’t breathe our air then why not open the door and be done with it? Let them burn.”

The other generals show their approval with a chorus of, “Let them burn! Burn them!”

“No, you don't understand what that would do to them!” Clarke tells them. Lexa sees revulsion and sadness flicker briefly across her face. “They have a containment system, multiple airlocks just like we had on the Ark. Our inside man can shut that down.”

“If he gets inside,” Quint counters.

“What if we shut it down from the outside,” Lexa offers. “You say the dam gives them power. Take that away.”

Clarke scoffs. “That dam withstood a nuclear war, Lexa. I highly doubt-”

Quint lets out a howl of anger and slams his fists on the war table. “All she offers is no!”

“Quint,” Lexa warns.

He looks to her. Seeing her stern glare and the small shake of her head, he steps back from the table, taking a moment to gather himself. Then, he says, “Apologies, Commander. But the biggest army we’ve had waits for us to give it a mission. The longer that takes, the more of our people die inside that Mountain.”

Lexa has the urge to slap him. He thinks she doesn’t know this?

“It’s the same for all of us,” Clarke insists.

“We’ve lost thousands,” Quint snaps back. “How many have you lost, girl?” He looks back to Lexa. “She says she has a plan… I say, waiting for one man to get inside is not a very good one.”

“I agree with Quint,” Noah pipes up, leaning forward on the table. “We have any army. Let’s use it.”

“We will! After Bellamy lowers their defenses!” Clarke tells them. The frustration is evident in her voice. “I don’t care how many men you have! If you can’t get to your enemy, you can’t win.”

Quint glares at her. “You are the enemy.”

Clarke turns to face him fully. “I’m sorry, have I done something to offend you?”

“Yes.” Quint steps towards her. “You burned my brother alive in a ring of fire.”

Clarke glances at the others in the room. Then, she steps forward as well. “You mean Salaam?” Quint's eyes widen. “He shouldn’t have attacked my ship.”

“You are very brave under the Commander’s protection,” Quint growls.

Clarke’s eyes narrow. She looks him up and down and then steps even closer, so they are nearly touching. Just loud enough for them all to hear, she murmurs, “You’re very brave for a man who will die before the day is over.” As she speaks, Clarke reaches out and pokes him hard in the shoulder, right where the smallest patch of his skin is peeking out of a gap in his armor. Quint blinks and all of the color suddenly drains from his face. Clarke steps back before he can bat her hand away. He snarls and reaches for his knife.

“Kwint!” Lexa snaps. “Chil yu daun!”

Quint looks at her. “Commander, she cast a spell on me-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Lexa cuts him off. “You threatened her. What would you expect? Don’t be a bushada.”

Eyes are wide all around the table. This is the first time, Lexa has seen Clarke weaponize her sight like this, but judging from the confidence behind her words and movements, she’s done it before. Clearly shaken, Quint’s eyes jump from Lexa to Clarke and back again. Lexa meets his gaze with a vicious glare, daring him to oppose her.

Quint works his jaw, then finally drops his hands from his weapon. He takes a step back, glaring at Clarke. “I cannot be allies with these people,” he spits, “these witches!”

Lexa shoots him another glare and he shuts his mouth. She carefully picks up the map of the Mountain and only pretends to examine for a moment before telling Clarke, “Quint is right. Waiting for Bellamy isn’t a plan, it’s a prayer. One that is not likely to be answered.”

Clarke’s hostility swings over to her. Her silver-blue eyes are ice cold. "As if you stayed to-!" Under the intensity of her wrath, Lexa wonders where her warmth has disappeared to. Clarke looks as if she is about to provide a further scathing reply, but instead stops and grits her teeth. “Excuse me,” she rasps. “I need some air.”

She stalks up the stairs out of the war chamber, her guard on her heels.

Lexa dismisses the war council for the afternoon meal soon after. The moment he is given permission, Quint is gone. He leaves too quickly. Lexa knows his intentions immediately.

“Noah,” she says. The young man looks up from the map he had been studying. “Come with me.”

Together, the two of them exit the war chamber. When they emerge, Lexa is dismayed to find that Quint is already long gone. She and Noah exit through the gates of Tondc, but there is still no sign of him. Aftaimgeta’s congregation is still camped here, just off the beaten path. Lexa walks to the closest campfire, where a small group sit in a circle talking quietly. Their conversation comes to a halt when they notice her.

“Heda!" One man leaps to his as feet as she approaches. Lexa swears he was one of those following them on the path to Tondc. “Please do not make us leave! We just want to-”

“Have you seen aftaimgeta?" Lexa cuts him off.

The group exchanges a series of knowing glances. The man turns back towards Lexa. “She… requested to be left alone to her sight, heda-”

 “I am your Commander,” Lexa snaps, and his eyes widen. “You dare defy me?”

“I…” His face goes pale. He can hold her glare for only a moment before his gaze drop to his feet. “No, heda. I only wish to give aftaimgeta the time she requires.”

These people’s dedication to Clarke continues to amaze Lexa. First, they put themselves in danger by camping around the Sky People’s base. Then, they follow after her to Tondc. Now, they are defying even Lexa in order to give her the space she requires. Lexa wants to punish his insolence with her wrath, but she has a feeling it will not help in this situation.

Instead, Lexa forces herself to take a deep breath. “There is a man following her who I believe seeks to end her life,” she tells him, and his head snaps up to look at her. “Where did she go?”

This time, there is no hesitation. He points out into the forest. “She went that way, heda. I saw no man following her.”

“Mochof.”

Lexa motions for Noah to follow her and takes off in the direction he pointed. The two of them hurry through the woods, and soon enough, Lexa can hear the loud, unmistakable sound of someone crashing through the forest. She peers over a large fern to see Quint charging towards Clarke through the trees. The blonde whirls towards him.

Bang!

The gunshot echoes through the forest, making Lexa’s ears ring. Quint howls in pain and collapses atop Clarke, pinning her to the ground. He pulls his dagger from its sheath and holds it above his head to strike. Lexa reaches for her own knife and flings it end over end towards them. It nails Quint in the hand and he howls in pain. His weapon clatters to the ground. Using the moment of distraction, Clarke shoves him away and scrambles to her feet as Lexa and Noah approach.

Lexa kicks Quint hard into the dirt and pulls her dagger from his hand. “Jomp em op en yu jomp ai op,” she tells him.

A strange, soft look crosses Clarke’s expression. “Thank you,” she tells Lexa sincerely.

Lexa looks to her. “Where is your guard?”

Clarke only shakes her head. “I don’t know,” she admits. “Something out here killed her.”

“Something…?” Noah wonders.

Quint pushes himself up against the nearest tree, clutching at the bloody bullet wound in his knee. “I only want justice for my brother, Commander,” he insists. “Ai ouyon dison gonplei klin!”

Lexa sneers at him. “Yu gonplei ste odon.” She ignores the look of shock on his face, instead focusing once more at Clarke. “The kill is yours, Clarke.”

But Clarke only shakes her head. “No,” she says. “This isn’t how he-”

A roar rips through the forest, cutting off the rest of her sentence. They all whirl towards the sound. Lexa’s stomach climbs into her throat.

“Pauna?” Clarke utters, her face drained of color. “What the hell is that thing?"

Lexa kicks Quint hard in his injured knee. He collapses to the ground with a cry. “Run!” she yells to Clarke and Noah, and takes off away from the sound. It doesn’t matter where they go, as long as its away from the pauna. Quint will slow it down, but Lexa knows first-hand what this beast is capable of. She is under no illusion that they will be able to fight it, much less kill it. As they run, there is screaming and the sound of flesh ripping behind them. The pauna has found Quint.

“We need to hide!” Clarke skids to a stop in the dirt. “This way, I found something!”

She pulls a metal grate aside and ushers Lexa and Noah into a large metal pipe. They emerge from the other end to find themselves in what can only be described as an enclosure made of stone. Parts of it are crumbling away. Jagged stones and boulders litter the place. Worse still, there are human skeletons and half-eaten animal carcasses strewn about like discarded trash.

Clarke emerges behind them, blanching as she takes in their surroundings. “What is this place?”

“Her feeding ground,” Lexa answers, dread filling her. They definitely should not be here, but backtracking will only get them killed.

“Let’s go,” Clarke says. She fearlessly clambers up the pile of stone rubble to the top of the pauna’s nest. Lexa follows behind her, then Noah. Once to the top, they take in their surroundings from their vantage point. A moat surrounds the nest on all sides just before a tall wall, perhaps once designed to keep the beast contained. Behind them, there is another pile of rubble crumbling against a stone archway.

There is another roar. The pauna leaps high over the walls that were once meant to keep it in and falls upon Noah. He screams wordlessly as it tears at him with its paws and teeth. Muscles rippling beneath its black fur, the pauna flings his body aside and turns to Clarke and Lexa. Lexa draws her sword. Clarke raises her pistol and swiftly empties her clip into the beast. It bellows in pain, stumbles, and falls backwards into the moat. There is a loud thud and then silence.

As the two of them try to catch their breath, Lexa can’t help but stare at Clarke. She had last encountered the pauna in her sixteenth summer. Seemingly impervious to blades and arrows, it had wiped out nearly fifty men and left the rest of them scrambling to retreat. Yet, here, Clarke has forced the beast back.

Clarke looks back at her with wide eyes. “I didn’t think that would work. Didn’t this thing kill a bunch of your warriors?”

Yet again, Lexa is stunned at the knowledge Clarke seems to hold. It only lasts a moment, though, because the pauna suddenly comes back to them, climbing up over the edge of the moat and roaring.

“This way!” Clarke hurries under the stone archway behind them, loading another clip into her weapon as they go. On the other side, they find themselves standing at a railing, another moat directly below them. Without a moment’s hesitation, Clarke leaps over the railing. Her grunt of pain when she hits the bottom draws the pauna’s attention, and it’s eyes alight on Lexa. Adrenaline surging, Lexa sheathes her sword – what an embarrassing way to end her fight, falling upon her own blade – and jumps down after Clarke. Her landing is less graceful. She hits the wall at the same time as the ground, and pain explodes in her right shoulder. For a moment, all Lexa can see are stars.

Forceful hands yank her up by the straps of her armor. “Come on, Lexa, we have to move!”

Despite the blinding pain in her shoulder, Clarke’s voice seems to ground her. She does as she is told, limping along as Clarke pulls her towards the entrance of the enclosure. They are just passing through the threshold when Lexa feels a strong grip on her ankle, and her feet are pulled out from under her. She reaches out with her good arm to grip at the edge of the entrance to keep the pauna from pulling her back in.

“Leave me!” Lexa yells to Clarke.

Clarke only lets out a bitter laugh. "I'm not you." Instead of doing as she’s told, she plants her feet against the threshold of the entrance and empties another clip into the pauna. The beast yowls in pain and releases Lexa’s ankle. Clarke grabs Lexa’s good hand to pull her through the opening, and suddenly, Lexa is somewhere else.

Clarke curled on her side, sleeping by a campfire. An enormous pillar of smoke rising into the sky. The smell of a burning forest. Despair. Lincoln, kneeling on the ground, a bloody hole in his shoulder.

"Good shot.”

Clarke standing before her. Lexa reaches out to cup the back of her neck-

Clarke releases her and Lexa is wrenched back into the present. The afternoon light suddenly seems very bright. She feels nauseous, whether from the pain or the visions, she does not know. She can only watch dumbly as Clarke kicks away the rod propping the entrance open. It slams shut behind them. The blonde grabs Lexa by her armor straps once more to yank her up onto her feet. She hauls her into a large metal room to their right and slams the door shut, barring it with Lexa’s sword.

Lexa collapses against the wall, her shoulder throbbing and her head spinning. The smell of the burning forest lingers in her nose, her eyes stinging from the visions of smoky air. While she catches her breath, Clarke looks about the room. She procures a dirty strip of cloth from the corner and approaches Lexa.

“Let me see your arm,” she commands.

Still reeling form the visions, Lexa has no energy to argue. She steps off the wall to give the blonde better access to her right arm. She puts her fingers tight around Lexa’s wrist to check for a pulse, then prods at her shoulder. Lexa hisses in pain and she pulls away.

“I think it’s dislocated, but you’re still getting blood flow,” Clarke tells her. “With a sling you should be fine until we can get back to Tondc and put it back in place.”

Lexa nods and allows the blonde to loop the cloth around her neck. She props her arm up with the sling and begins to tie a knot at the juncture of her shoulder and neck. Her movements are slow and careful. Though she has no issue steadying Lexa by the arm, she makes an almost exaggerated effort not to touch her skin directly. It’s something Lexa has been noticing, but now she finally understands why.

“You should have left me behind,” Lexa tells her as she finishes tying off the sling. “Now two will die here instead of one.”

Clarke scoffs at her and turns away. “We won’t die here.” She moves to the other side of the room and slides down the wall so she is sitting opposite of Lexa. She takes in Lexa with her makeshift sling, then chuckles almost bitterly. “Actually, I had been wondering how we would end up in this situation.”

Lexa feels a chill go up her spine. “You saw this?” Clarke nods and Lexa swallows thickly. Will she ever become accustomed to what this woman can do?  “But you didn’t know how we would end up here?”

Clarke only shakes her head in response.

Lexa considers that. “It is the same as when you warned me about Gustus.”

“Like I said, Commander,” Clarke bites out, pulling her knees up to her chest. “You don’t need to rub it in.”

“I only want to learn more about your abilities.” Lexa pauses, then softly says, “I can only imagine how difficult it must be to regularly see visions such as these.”

“Visions such as…?” Clarke looks up at her in alarm. “I touched you earlier.”

“You did,” Lexa admits. “It was… disorienting to say the least.”

Clarke releases a sigh and looks down at her hands. “I’m sorry. Usually I can control what others see when they touch me, but it takes focus, and…”

“And you were busy saving my life,” Lexa guesses.

“I…” Clarke’s gaze darts away and she swallows hard. “What did you see?”

Lexa hums. “A pillar of smoke and a burning forest. Lincoln, with a bullet wound in his shoulder.”

“That’s all?” Is that relief Lexa hears in her voice? Clarke seems to consider her response. “This must be part of an event that we experience together. I saw the same thing.”

Lexa studies her carefully. “Clarke,” she says. “Is this-”

Suddenly, there is a loud banging on the door and a roar. They both know what it means. Lexa pulls her dagger from its sheath and backs away from the door

“Looks like it found us.” Clarke gets to her feet, much too slowly for Lexa’s comfort. “Over here.” She grips Lexa’s bicep and pulls her to one side of the entrance. Then, she flings Lexa’s sword away, and the pauna crashes through, slamming into the bars on the opposite side of the room. Clarke yanks Lexa through the opening and slams the outer crossbar down across the door, trapping the beast inside. It bellows and slams against the confines of the cage, but the door holds.

“Come on,” Clarke says. She is so calm. Too calm. “Lets go.”

It is a long trek back to Tondc. Despite the sling, Lexa’s shoulder still jostles with each step, and at one point, she can go on no longer.

“Let us rest, Clarke,” she finally sighs. “We will build a fire and return to Tondc before sundown.”

Clarke glowers at her, looking as if she wants to argue. But a glance at Lexa’s gritted teeth must convince her that they do indeed need rest. She nods, and while Lexa leans back against a tree, she begins to gather firewood. The blonde starts their campfire with ease and curls up beside it with her back to Lexa. Despite the life-threatening situation they’ve just been through, her breathing soon evens out. From the dark circles under her eyes Lexa had seen earlier, she can only guess the other woman must be utterly exhausted.

Clarke curled on her side, sleeping by a campfire.

Lexa sucks in a sharp breath, suddenly realizing one of those visions she saw has already come to pass. Is this what Clarke lives with on a daily basis? Lexa can only imagine how difficult and disorienting it must be to constantly experience the future within the present. She herself only came in contact with it for a moment, and it left her unable to even defend herself. Lexa now understands so much more about what is happening around Clarke. She understands her following, the way that Sindri had fallen to his knees before her. She understands how Clarke speaks of the future without knowing all that leads to it. She understands the despair that seems to cling to Clarke at all times. Could there be any other way to view the future of this world and what it will do to those around you?

Yet, she still does not understand the way that Clarke looks at her.

She looks at her as if she is the moon, with such kindness and gentleness that it makes something inside of Lexa stir. It’s a part of her she once thought long dead, tortured and beheaded when Costia came back to her in pieces. But despite everything that their people have done to each other, despite what Lexa has said and done to her, she often only gazes upon her with fondness. Sometimes, Lexa sees flashes of anger and betrayal, just as the loathing she had directed towards her this morning. Sometimes there is sadness, but those looks are often fleeting in comparison to her warmth.

Gazing upon Clarke sleeping by this campfire, Lexa blinks when she realizes that she is looking at Clarke in much the same way.

The distant roar of the pauna echoes through the forest. Clarke shoots up into the sitting position, scanning the woods for danger.

“It’s okay,” Lexa assures her, and Clarke looks back at her. “You’re safe.”

“How’s your arm?” Clarke asks. The softness in her face makes Lexa swallow hard.

“Hurts," Lexa rasps.

Clarke nods solemnly. “Come on,” she says, getting to her feet. “That cage won’t hold forever.”

Lexa grips the hilt of her dagger tight. As Clarke turns away from her, she calls, “Wait.” She too stands and steps closer to the blonde. “I owe you an apology, Clarke.” The other woman blinks at her. “You tried to save Gustus yesterday, and I punished you for it. I believe in what you see, and I believe that your heart shows no signs of weakness.”

“I…” Clarke’s anger from this morning is gone. Once more, her gentleness and understanding have returned. “Thank you, Lexa.”

Lexa nods – not nervously, of course - and moves to stamp out the fire. As she does, Clarke turns back towards the echoing sounds of the pauna. She freezes for a long moment, then whirls back to look at Lexa. “I think I know how to take Mount Weather.” At Lexa's stare, she says, “We’ve been trying to get inside, but they’ve already let us in.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re army is already in there, locked in cages,” Clarke explains. “We just need someone on the inside to let them out.”

Lexa understands immediately. “Bellamy. You have faith in him.”

“I do.” There is no doubt in Clarke’s voice.

“I hope you faith is well-placed,” Lexa tells her. “Because if he can’t get inside then we can’t win.”

“He will.” Clarke sounds so sure and confident. “I saw it. Lexa, this is gonna work.”

After returning to Tondc, Clarke and Lexa call another war council to discuss the logistics surrounding the idea of the “inside man.” Lexa’s generals seem confused at her sudden confidence in Clarke’s plan, but that same confidence also seems to convince them. They go over some of the basics, such as dismantling the acid fog and the so-called army already inside of the Mountain. It takes hours, and it's dark by the time they finally finish. Looking weary, Clarke retires from the war chamber first. Lexa remains with her generals for several more minutes, hammering out the details of the escort she intends to give Clarke and how they will muster the other forces they need from the Twelve Clans.

Once they are finished, the generals file out one-by-one. Lexa is the last to leave. She knows she needs to inform Clarke and the Sky People of the escort she will provide on their return to their own camp. As she climbs the steps, she mulls over whether or not she should send one of her men to search for Clarke among aftaimgeta’s parish, or among the Sky People first. It’s difficult to tell with Clarke. But when she reaches the top of the steps and opens the door to the war chamber, she is pleasantly surprised to find the blonde standing only a few feet away, gazing out across the village.

Good. One less thing she has to worry about.

“Clarke,” Lexa says as she approaches.

No answer.

“Clarke?” Lexa repeats.

Still nothing. She doesn’t even seem to hear Lexa. An inkling of concern springs to life in her chest.

“Clarke,” Lexa insists sharply. She steps up beside the blonde, and her breath catches in her throat.

There are tears streaming down Clarke’s face, her lips parted, despair and horror in her expression. She blinks rapidly, her eyes darting back and forth across the village, taking in the people and huts around them. She looks as if she is gazing upon Praimfaya itself.

“Clarke?” Lexa says once more, her worry mounting.  “What are you…?”

“I…” Clarke opens and closes her mouth several times. She can’t seem to answer. Instead, she holds her hand out to her and whispers, “Look.”

Lexa swallows hard, her gaze darting down to Clarke’s outstretched hand. She recalls what she saw when Clarke grabbed her hand in the pauna’s nest. But another glance at the blonde’s devastated expression only piques her curiosity. Tentatively, she reaches out and touches the other woman's palm with her fingers.

Lexa suddenly finds herself in the middle of a blackened crater, the war chamber now a large pile smoking rubble behind her. The rest of Tondc lies in ruins, and beyond that, trees lay flattened upon the ground. There are small fires burning as far as the eye can see. Dozens, no – almost a hundred bodies are strewn about and beyond the crater. The sounds of screaming and begging filter in between the crackling of the flames. The echo of faraway gunshots bounces between the trees. Bullets ricochet against stone and strike down any living who still move. The smell of smoke and burning flesh permeates the air.

Horror. Self-loathing. Despair.

Lexa jerks away from Clarke, the screams still echoing in her ears. Tondc as it is now has returned, intact, villagers and warriors milling about, drinking and laughing and sharing stories. Beyond the walls, Lexa can hear the quiet chatter of aftaimgeta’s congregation.

“Clarke,” Lexa gasps. “What was that?”

“Fate,” Clarke mutters, scrubbing at her cheeks to rid them of her tears. “So many people… Is there even that many people here?”

“There will be,” Lexa realizes, her own gaze combing over Tondc. “This is where we plan to hold the war council of the Twelve Clans.”

Clarke’s head snaps around to look at her. “We can’t, Lexa! You saw it! If we do-”

“I understand, Clarke.” She cuts her off as gently as she can. “Do you know how this happened?”

Clarke shakes her head, her voice rising. Too loud. “A bomb maybe? A joken meteor? I don’t know!”

“Clarke.”

The group of villagers gathered around the closest campfire glance over at them curiously. Lexa holds up her hands to calm the blonde, darting her eyes indicatively to them. When she realizes that they are being listened to, Clarke takes a deep, steadying breath. Her next words are much more quiet and collected, though no less anxious.

“I don’t know, Lexa,” she hisses. “But you saw it. That was....”

 “It will be okay, Clarke,” Lexa murmurs. “We will start by relocating the war council. There are other villages we could move to, but it may be safer to move it into the woods.”

Clarke opens her mouth as if to argue, but then stops short at Lexa’s words. “Wait… you believe me?”

Lexa can only stare back at her. “You would ask me not to?”

“No!” Clarke shakes her head furiously. “No, I just…” She drops her gaze to the ground. “Not very many people do.”

“I’ll admit that I had my doubts at first, Clarke,” Lexa sighs. “But you have proven to me time and again that your sight is true. Also…” She scans Tondc, the images of fire and rubble flashing in her mind’s eye. “It is difficult to argue against it when you see it with your own eyes.”

“Even I didn’t believe my own sight at first,” Clarke quietly confesses.

Lexa looks at her. “Clarke,” she wonders softly, “Do you see these things all the time?”

“Constantly, but not all of the time,” Clarke answers, scowling. “I don’t control what I see, but I can sometimes direct my sight by focusing on certain things. I see people. I can see inside of them, and learn about them. I see their futures. When it’s something that affects a lot of different people, I’ll even see the future of entire places.” She raises her eyes to look out over Tondc once more. “I see good, but it’s usually bad. There’s so much suffering… And it all ends in fire.”

Lexa briefly wonders what that last part means. She assumes she speaks of Tondc, lying still intact before them, but perhaps she means the eventual end of everything. Lexa will not pretend to know of the fate of all and everything. These are her people, and she must focus on the war before them.

“Clarke,” she says. “I know that fate may not be changed, but that does not mean we cannot make a difference. We may not know how or why this happens, but as I said, we will start by moving the war council.”

“I…” Clarke blinks at her. Her eyes well with tears once more. “Thank you, Lexa.”

“You thank me for nothing, Clarke. Your sight is what will guide us.”

Clarke smiles. “Thank you for believing me,” she murmurs. “Thank you for helping me try to change this.”

There is such gratitude and sincerity in her voice that Lexa can only nod in response. For the first time since they met, there is genuine hope in Clarke’s eyes. She much prefers it to the despair that always seems to linger on her skin. Not only that, but the blonde is once more looking at her with such adoration, and Lexa feels a small spark kindling inside of her. She thinks that she must douse it before it turns to a flame.

Lexa clears her throat. “I’ve arranged for an escort for you and Abby to return to your camp. The men I’ve assigned will follow your order, and yours alone. Use them as you see fit.” She nods towards the gates of Tondc, beyond which aftaimgeta’s flock is camped. “What do you plan to do about them?”

Clarke simply shrugs. “That’s up to them,” she says. “I never told anyone to follow me. They just decided to.”

Lexa can only shake her head in response. She will not pretend to know what the future holds while standing beside aftaimgeta, but perhaps they can spin fate together.