AN : Hi ! So sorry for the delay in updating this story. I know I'd told some of you a few weeks ago that chapter 3 was well underway (like 6000 words underway) but I'm a perfectionist and then work happened, life happened, procrastination happened and a weird syndrome of writer's block occurred (my brain kept writing but only for every other chapter of this story!? What the hell brain?). Oh well! I've finally managed to focus enough to smooth the transitions and end this chapter (might do some editing in the future). This is the longest chapter so far (remember that it was supposed to be part of chapter 2!) so yeah I do have a problem with length!

NB: Thanks for the follows and the reviews. Shout-out to Tibetan Mastiff for being the 50th followers. Closing in on 100 yay!

F00f00 - :] back! Funio10 – thanks so much for your kind words. Here's another long chapter. Hope you like it. You'll have some insight about Camp Jaha in this chapter but since we are following Clarke, we only know what she knows! And if I had to describe Sky camp, my chapters would be even longer than they are! Soulterror – thanks for being a constant awesome reviewer! Phoenix072124 – trying my best with those feelings, I even have to take it down a notch sometimes haha! Hope I'm doing them justice! UnguidedLight – Thanks again! The100-Clexa – I'm trying to keep as close to the characters established in the show as I can but I'm bound to stray from them with uncharted territories. Yes they share a bed but it still is quite PG for now. Clarke still have to work her issues out! Glad you like it! Alicezoeyblack – Pmed you about your comment and the fact I was humbled for the confusion with Coeur-d'astronaute. This chapter is longer than the previous one. Enjoy! Billy1990ism – Man, here is a long a** chapter again haha! Follower ofMania – You reviewed quicker than I expected! Yeah I'm having fun with Trigedasleng. It's too good not to play with it!

PS: I was asked about the music I listened to while I write. Unusual request but I'll bite! (Heteroclite non-exhaustive selection!)

Laura Jensen – A call to arms (where I got the title from)

Jetta – feels like coming home / Awolnation – sail / Tove Lo – scream my name / Air – playground love / M83 – holes in the sky/too late / Jessie Ware – wildest moments/say you love me / Groove Armada – think twice / Woodkid – Iron / Banks – waiting game/you should know where I'm coming from / Zella Day – sacrifice / Sohn – carry me home / GabrielleAplin – reverse /Alessia – here / Mumford & Sons – believe / Echosmith – bright / Hillsong United – oceans / Royal Blood – you can be sol cruel / Stevie Nix – if you ever did believe / Twenty One Pilots – tear in my heart / Hayley Westenra – listen to the wind / The Chemical Brothers – the devil is in the details / Last of the Mohican theme / The Piano OST – the heart asks pleasure first / Begin Again OST – lost stars / Julie Fowlis – touch the sky / Braveheart OST – for the love of a princess / James Horner – Casper's lullaby / House of Flying Daggers OST – lovers (flower garden / Mei&Jin versions) / Princess Mononoke OST – the legend of Ashitaka / Agnes Obel – fuel to fire / Laura Marling – crawled out of the sea / Karen Harding – say something / London Grammar – wasting my young years / Raign (of course!) / Thor the Dark World – Into eternity / E.T Ost – flying theme / The Fifth Element OST – protect life / The Horse Whisperer OST – the rhythm of the horse / LOTR: The Two Towers OST – samwise the brave / John Dreamer – becoming a legend/end of my journey/true strength…

See, I can't keep it short even with my writing playlist! Enough about me, here is the long awaited chapter!

Chapter 3

Black Distraction

About two weeks after Lexa had carried a barely alive Clarke in her arms, Nyko deemed her fit to handle a horseback ride. A slow paced horseback ride he had specified. Lexa was needed back more permanently in Ton DC to attend meetings and oversee the reconstruction of the village. She felt the warriors that had stayed behind with her and Clarke, wanted to return to their families completely instead of rotating shifts. Clarke herself grew tiresome of being isolated up in the Mountain. She was too close from it and it weighed on her. Lexa gladly obliged when Clarke asked to move back to Ton DC.

So about two weeks after they had vanquished the Mountain, the war camp was dismantled and the pair rode back to Ton DC. Lexa had insisted that Clarke shared her horse with her, not explicitly implying that she wanted to keep the blonde close to her, but arguing that a solo ride would strain her still recovering body. Which was a good enough excuse to have Clarke sit in front of Lexa and have her lean on the Commander, and do nothing except let her body make one with the horse's regular footing.

Clarke's mind drifted to the forest and the sky. It felt foreign to her eyes for she had not taken the time to fully grasp the beauty of her surroundings since her first day on the ground.

The forest was luxuriant in the shy late morning. The cold dew sticking to the trunks, grass, remaining leaves and pine needles made everything glisten. The sun fought to shine its bright warming light with a low sky that warned them of the impending winter. It pierced through the thick cotton-like cloud cover here and there, casting a timid light under the canopy.

"I forgot how beautiful the light was when it filters through the branches, little spots of sun in random places."

"This is nothing compared to the way it plays with the waves and the color of your hair."

Clarke blushed and was glad that she was seated back to Lexa, and that the accompanying guards kept a respectful distance from them, eyes sharp on possible threats. It had been quite a strange journey for the both of them, from murderous attacks to romantic entanglement. Clarke was still trying to adjust to the change in their relationship, with Lexa expressing more openly her thoughts to Clarke when they were out of ears' reach.

"I like this side of you. Who knew the Commander could be sweet."

"The Commander is necessarily aloof and guarded. I am what my people need me to be. But I am not only this persona. The me underneath just never had an occasion to resurface lately."

Clarke didn't feel the need to respond to the honest confession. She leant further into Lexa and closed her eyes to focus on the noises around her - chirping birds in the trees, rampant animals hiding on their path, the heavy hooves of their steed and the soft pulse of Lexa's heart against her back. Clarke felt Lexa shift on the saddle to address her more formally.

"I am going to make Ryder your permanent guard once we settle back in Ton DC. Is that alright with you?"

"Are you asking my permission?" Clarke asked, slightly shocked that the Commander did even consider including her in this decision making whereas she never bothered to with more important moves in the past.

"Yes. You were quite difficult when I assigned him to you before."

"If I say I don't need protection, will you change your mind about it?"

"No. You are a leader Clarke and as such you must be guarded. It would ease my mind."

"Fine. But the moment he gets on my nerves he's out."

"As you wish."

Lexa delicately tightened the grip around Clarke's waist, on her right side to avoid her abdomen wound, and Clarke discreetly rested her uninjured arm on top of Lexa's. Lexa knew not to publically display affection, or so she was taught, but her favoritism for the Sky Princess had not gone unnoticed, even more so since the battle of the Mountain. She looked around at her warriors; if they were aware of the development of their Heda's involvement with the Skai Prisa, they were smart enough not to show sign of it.

The rest of the trip to the village was met with silence. A content silence. None wishing to disturb this moment of sheer quietude. They lazily arrived in the afternoon, only having stopped for food when their bellies had growled with discontentment.

With the majority of Ton DC in shambles and the reconstruction underway, a temporary camp had been settled at the edge of the village. Those whose huts had not been damaged housing the less fortunate, the rest using the tents when there was no more spare bed.

The warriors that had taken the war camp apart had managed to arrive ahead of their convoy and had erected Lexa's tent between trees on a relatively flat parcel of dirt, at a respectable distance from the villagers but close enough to the remains of Ton DC.

Clarke felt exhausted from the trip and retired to the tent, once they were greeted by Lexa's people and once she had respectfully followed Lexa to join Indra on her survey of the reconstruction. Lexa had not expressed she wanted Clarke to keep sharing her tent but it seemed that their silent agreement from their newfound routine had extended beyond Clarke's recovery. And Lexa was not one to complain about this shared arrangement they fell naturally into. Clarke slept through the rest of the day and didn't wake when Lexa slipped under the furs to wrap her arms around her.

Clarke woke up the next day to an empty bed. She realized she must have overslept when she eyed a plate of food left for her on the table. With sore muscles, she carefully stretched and got up to get dressed.

As she walked to grab some of the food, she reminded herself to find Nyko to check her wounds and change the bandages. She cut the piece of bread in two and trapped the cheese between the slices. She bit a chunk of it and exited the tent as she chewed.

"Ryder." She greeted her guard as she passed him before he followed behind her. "Do you know where the Commander is?" She continued, slowing down to his level.

"She is attending to the preparations for the feast on the outskirts of the forest."

Clarke didn't press him for explanations and decided she'd ask Lexa herself. As she finished her 'sandwich', she rubbed her shirt to rid herself of the crumbs. Looking down, she saw the faintest stain of blood on the fabric. Finding Lexa would wait. Clarke made her way to Nyko's tent with Ryder's directions.

As she stepped inside, she came face to face with her mother in deep conversation with Nyko. She should have known that her mother would visit as soon as Clarke came back. Lexa must have sent for her last night or early this morning. But Clarke would have wanted a bit of a warning. They hadn't seen each other since the aftermath of Ton DC and from what Octavia had told her, Abby was upset that she had been denied to bring Clarke back to Camp Jaha when her fever struck. Octavia had tried to get Clarke to talk to her mother via the walkie-talkie but Clarke had refused every time. She didn't know how her mother had taken the fall of the Mountain and she had wanted to avoid for the longest time possible the dreadful heart-to-heart.

She made herself known when she ordered Ryder to stay outside no matter what he would hear. They both turned around to look at her. Nyko simply nodded whereas Abby closed the distance to cup her daughter's face.

"Clarke." She said, tears brimming in her eyes. She kissed her daughter's forehead. "You had me worried sick. When I heard you were hurt, I tried to come to you but Lexa wouldn't let me. They contacted me when you got worse, you should have been with me. " She accused.

"Mom. A lot of people needed you. And I'm fine. Nyko took great care of me." Clarke informed her, glancing at Nyko.

"Mochof, Skai Prisa. Did you need me for something?"

"It seems like I need a change of bandages. I should have come to you last night."

"Heda ordered not to wake you. I have everything ready."

"Would you…" Clarke started, looking at her mother.

"I'm not leaving Clarke!"

"I was actually going to suggest that you do it. I'm sure you want to see for yourself."

"Yes. I would have insisted otherwise."

"Nyko. Can you leave us please?"

"Sha." Nyko bowed his head after he put strips of cloth and vials of ointments on the table.

"So what were you two talking about?" Clarke turned her full attention to her mother once she saw the flap of the tent fall back into place.

"I was asking him about the recovery of those I've taken care of. But mostly about you." She answered, placing a hand on Clarke's cheek and giving it a brush.

Abby gestured for her daughter to seat on the table. Clarke complied and proceeded to take her sling, coat and shirt off. Abby unwrapped the bandages with expert hands and pursed her lips at the wounds.

"It's going to leave some scaring, especially the burn."

"I'll take the scars every time if it means I'll live."

"You should have been brought back to Camp Jaha. I'm going to have a word with her. Then I'm taking you home with me." Abby informed her daughter with a furrowed brow as she applied antiseptic on each wounds.

"She saved my life. Can't you be just grateful?" Clarke said as she winced from the sting of liquid on her skin.

"I don't trust her." Abby stopped dabbing the lotion onto her daughter's burn to look her in the eye.

"I do." Clarke replied, voice dripping of the immutable confidence she felt towards the Grounder leader.

"I don't want her influence on you. Her kind has only brought misery to our people since we've arrived."

"Her kind took us in. They protected us, rescued us. Lexa forgave a lot about me and has been more than merciful where someone else wouldn't have. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"I never wanted any of this for you." Abby resumed cleaning the wounds, before applying a salve on each and bandaging them. Clarke remained silent during the rest of the treatment, urging her growing anger to calm down. Abby didn't say a word either, concentrating her frustration into her work.

"I tried mom. I tried to be the good guy." Clarke whispered after some time, looking away from her mother. Abby was finishing up with the last of the bandages, tying a knot at her daughter's upper arm.

"Maybe there are no good guys." Abby admitted with a hint of defeat. It was the first time she acknowledged that life on earth was more complicated than she had imagined it to be, but her admission was more profound that she wanted to convey, for it also included life on the Ark. They were no good guys there either, only a struggling population fighting everyday with the blind faith that'd live long enough to see a brighter future. Abby was no better.

"Maybe not." Clarke said with a sad smile, body still, on the table. Her relationship with her mother had been seriously damaged since they had reunited. But hearing her mother say those words could be the breakthrough she needed to start mending it.

"But what you did was wrong." Abby rebuked Clarke, eyes full of sadness and disappointment, ruining the efforts Clarke thought her mother had just made.

Abby still wouldn't accept that Ton DC had been an unforeseen yet inevitable collateral damage in a war she only had disgust for. She couldn't accept that it was only a stepping-stone in her daughter's wake. A step towards a more nefarious design.

"Maybe but it doesn't matter. I killed them all and nothing can be done about that." Clarke answered, matter-of-factly, jumping off the table to retrieve her shirt.

"You should have found another way." Abby breathed out in her daughter's back.

"What would you have me do? Let them kill you so that your pride remained intact. You're unbelievable. Do you hear yourself?" Clarke furiously spun around.

"They were innocents." Abby accused.

"I was innocent. That didn't stop you." Clarke spat, pointing a finger at herself then at her mother.

"I did what was necessary for you and our people." Abby retorted, brushing her daughter's accusatory hand aside.

"As did I. What is so hard for you to understand? Don't blame me for becoming who you made me to be." Clarke threw her hands in the air and grumbled in utter frustration.

"I didn't raise a murderer." Abby blurted out in a fit of anger, regretting the words as soon as they left her lips.

"And my mother wasn't a hypocritical egomaniac. I guess we are both disappointing." Clarke was profoundly hurt and replied with twice the weight of scathing words.

"Your father would be ashamed." Abby was now teary-eyed from this heartbreaking turn of events.

"Well, he's not here, is he?" Clarke shrugged impetuously. And Abby just slapped her. Abby slapped Clarke and took a step forward to apologize, but Clarke wouldn't have it. Clarke looked at the woman in front of her and couldn't recognize her. Her mother had never been so cruel. Shocked, Clarke backed away, grabbing the rest of her affairs as she left. Abby was left alone, sobbing.

Clarke hid away in the Commander's tent for the rest of the day, avoiding any other incongruous encounter that would result in words that couldn't be taken back. She busied herself with maps of the area, transcripts of meetings that occurred in the aftermath of the fall of the Mountain. But she couldn't recall what she had seen or read, her mind battling feelings her mother had rekindled in her heart. Feelings she didn't want to take cognizance of. Feelings from actions she'd have to atone for and she had no idea how.

Octavia had come by for lunch and they had picked up their language lesson. Octavia even pushed as far as making Clarke repeat while giving knife handling lessons – turning it around fingers, throwing it in the air and catching it by the handle…It was a distraction Clarke was getting good at.

They were both sat, cross-legged, on the floor, facing each other, trying different braiding style on Octavia when Lexa entered, flushed from chopping wood and carrying it back to the village to prepare for the celebrations. Octavia scrambled back to her feet and bowed.

"Heda." Octavia saluted the Commander.

"Okteivia." Lexa greeted back.

"Leida Klark." (Bye Clarke) Octavia looked down to wink at Clarke before leaving.

Lexa walked to the table and pushed the papers aside. She unbuckled her shoulder guard and set it on the table before taking off her coat she threw on a chair. Despite the cool air, Lexa was sweating profusely. She went to another table and poured water in a basin, damp a rag and started to clean her face off of the sweat. She had not worn war paint since the morning after the end of the war and she liked that she had no use for it anymore.

"Ha yu?" (How are you?) Lexa asked as she carried the basin to the main table, rubbing the cloth on her neck.

"Nou foto." (I'm ok.) Clarke replied from the floor, undoing the braids Octavia had managed to do on an unwilling Clarke.

"You are getting good at Trigedasleng." Lexa congratulated her as she eyed gorgeous blonde hair twirling around delicate fingers.

"I've picked up a few words along the way. And you know Octavia helps me. She enjoys having someone to share your culture with. She's really enthusiastic. There's not much else I can do in bed or around your tent."

"Must I remind you this is your tent as much as mine, and you're not confined inside anymore. I saw your mother leaving the village. Did she come to you?" Lexa inquired cautiously.

"Yes. Well, more like I came to her. She was quite blunt about the fact that she didn't like me staying here, with you." Clarke summed up, letting out the part with the strife that had ensued.

"Do you wish to leave with her?" Lexa had not felt the need nor had the will to inform Clarke that she had no obligation to stay in Ton DC now that her health was on the right track. Clarke could leave and Lexa did not want her to.

It had felt so natural for Clarke to be among Lexa's people and to be around the brunette everyday that she hadn't thought about leaving. If she had to be honest, even before her argument with her mother, Clarke didn't feel ready to jump back to responsibilities. She didn't feel able to take the pressure of judgments and prejudices after what she'd done.

"I've heard you're having a feast?" Clarke broke the silence, changing the discussion to avoid answering the question, remembering this piece of information Ryder let slip up.

"Yes, in five days. It is customary to celebrate a victory. I had it postponed long enough. Now that the warriors have healed and we have returned, it is time to indulge our people." Lexa replied, sensing that Clarke needed the diversion.

In the following days, Lexa busied herself around the village with rebuilding, preparing, training, hunting and responding to missives from other Clans. Lexa longed for the moments she got to spend time with Clarke once she had dismissed the day. Though she sensed that Clarke's behavior had changed ever since they had returned to Ton DC. Lexa had gently asked Clarke not to overdo it around camp, knowing the eagerness Clarke had the tendency to throw herself with to any helping activity. But the blonde had mostly kept to herself, staying inside their tent or wandering haphazardly in the adjacent forest. Lexa grew more concerned every day and would only get vague explanations at night, feeling the blonde slip away when she held her in her protective arms.

Clarke had thought that putting physical distance between herself and the Mountain would ease the ache she felt in her chest but waking up every day to the echo of the life's loss she caused revealed to be harder than she thought she could handle. Even her daily walks in the forest couldn't stop her bleeding heart. So she let the ache tear at her inside and put up a front on the outside.

Clarke hadn't cried yet. She wouldn't shed a tear. She felt she had no right to do so. Crying would solve nothing. It wouldn't erase the past. Holding back the tears was her only way to punish herself. Clarke wanted to hold on to the pain as her penance, if she believed in it. She didn't. Keeping it all in was her personal take on 'Jus drein jus daun.' She bled herself haunted. She lived and breathed torment. She would held captive her feelings and let them rattle the cage of her heart and mind.

Lexa saw Clarke mentally perished. Clarke had managed to fool everyone else but Lexa was the one who brought solace to the girl during her restless nights. Lexa could not let the one that healed her heart suffer this way. Lexa did not want to lose Clarke to the Mountain, to herself and her stubbornness. But all she could see was the pain in Clarke's stormy blue orbs. Lexa's chest grew heavy.

Could she have prevented Clarke from killing the Mountain Men herself? Could she have eased her burden with the sacrifice of Ton DC? Lexa had her own torments, most of which revolved around the Sky girl. There was no escape for Clarke but to feel, to feel it all and be consumed by it until there was nothing left for it to eat at. Lexa knew it all too well as she had cheated her feelings in the past and ran from them altogether. It should not be Clarke's reaction, how she should cope with it. It would not. Lexa was determined to make sure of it.

When all came back to her breathtakingly at Clarke's contact, Lexa had realized that what went around came around, the longer the denial the harder the truth. Clarke had freed Lexa's weight upon her heart; a weight that had grown heavier with each repressed feeling.

Lexa had never been in control of her heart. It was a wild thing that could not be tamed. She only had the illusion of control behind her mask. The mask remained but changed in its nature as she opened up to Clarke, though remnants of old habits persisted for the sake of legitimacy and leadership. A lot could be done in a matter of days but some things were too well anchored to be stripped away by the soft voice of a certain girl. Lexa was still learning. And she needed Clarke. She needed her whole, not the empty shell of her former self. Lexa would not tolerate weakness this way.

Lexa yawned and felt Clarke stir against her under the furs. She tilted her chin down to see heavy lidded dark blue eyes looking right at her.

"Your thoughts are loud." Clarke said in a sluggish voice, the shadow of a smile on her lips.

"They are not." Lexa replied, kissing her forehead.

"I had dozed off until your heart beat faster. What's on your mind?" Clarke asked, chasing the sleep from her eyes.

"What is on yours?" Lexa tried to turn the conversation away from her with a seductive voice.

"Lexa." Clarke warned, setting herself on her elbow to look down at the brunette.

"I am not the one waking up in anguish night after night. Talk to me Clarke." Lexa countered, mimicking Clarke's position with a concerned look.

"I asked first." Clarke stated, narrowing her eyes.

"Clarke, please." Lexa pleaded with a sigh.

"No. No 'Clarke please'." Clarke pushed herself up higher on her hand in an angry outburst before settling down in a sitting position, knees brought to her chest. "I told you once, you don't get to choose when it's opportune for you to open up." She added over her shoulder.

"I am not the one with incessant nightmares." Lexa accused while sitting up herself.

"That doesn't mean you have no concerns that bother you." Clarke replied, softer, turning her head to Lexa.

"My only concern is with you. I know how grief can affect someone."

Lexa had gone through what Clarke was experiencing more times that she could count but she knew it was more than that though; it was like, after Mount Weather, Clarke had split into two personas, very much like herself, only both were guarded.

"I don't want to talk about it." Clarke snapped back curtly as she flopped onto the bed, turning her back to Lexa.

"Know that I am here when you decide you need to." Lexa's loving presence and soothing words reached Clarke to her core and she wished it were enough but the darkness from within were stronger. She let Lexa wrap her arms around her frail figure and fell into another exhausting slumber.

About three weeks into recovery and roughly one week back in Ton DC, Clarke had the surprise visit of her friends. They had been informed by Indra, on Lexa's approving suggestion (and surely as an attempt to have some impacting affect on her), that Clarke was well enough to receive visitors. Lincoln lived in the village and Octavia was around most of the time, but they joined the group nonetheless. Bellamy, Raven, Wick, Monty, Monroe, Harper and Miller had made the trip. Jasper's evident absence from the group of her closest friends was hurtful but comprehensible.

They arrived in the middle of the afternoon the day the celebration was happening and spent their time in the guest tent that had been prepared for the occasion. Clarke should have been clued in when it was erected away and ahead of the housing preparations for the celebratory feast. It had been stuffed with several cots, cushions, furs, benches and a long table.

They spoke at length about how they were settling back to their routine, upgrading the Ark, training, hunting and all purposely avoiding the topic of Mount Weather. Clarke guessed Lexa might have given orders and she was grateful. She knew they'd talk about it eventually. They had to, but she was thankful none decided to push it for now.

They complained about the deteriorating weather, how the cold made the metal of the Ark even less sympathetic than usual. Raven and Wick had managed to divert a part of the power to dedicate it to a heat system. They had been warned; winter was the most ruthless season and made lots of victims. Clarke hid it well but that casual statement made her cringe. The prospect of death, even from natural causes, was still a sensitive subject. One that surrounded her despite her best efforts to avoid it.

Food was brought in and they helped themselves as they sat more comfortably on the cushions. The feast was not supposed to happen before dark so they were not spoiling their appetite.

Clarke looked at them, one by one. They were eating and drinking, smiling and laughing, teasing and joking, playing the game of being reunited like no other. They had been there many times, being separated too often without knowing if and when they would see each other again.

Clarke felt a reprieve being in the presence of her friends, who had managed to hold back judgment and pity away from their eyes. They were warm and alive. For a time, she felt light-hearted, the load that had weighed on her temporarily set aside so she could enjoy the moment.

Monty and Wick stood up to get to a large bag Clarke had wondered about when they arrived.

"Ok so your mom couldn't come now because of the patients she's looking after but we asked her about something you'd like." Raven explained as the guys came closer with the bag.

"O-kay. You do know my mom is avoiding me because she and I had a major argument right?" Clarke said, nervously.

"You're always fighting. But no she didn't say." Raven assured her.

"Anyway, hmm, Wick and I we rigged some stuff together." Monty interrupted them.

"You're losing me here. What's got to do with my mom?" Clarke asked, perplexed.

"Well, while scavenging for parts I came across chips and hard drives. I did a pretty good jo…" Monty tried to brag but was cut short by Wick.

"What he means is he found movies."

"Lots of them." Monty added, glaring at Wick.

"Your mom told that you might like it. I've never seen one, could be fun!" Octavia exclaimed.

"I warned them you could hate the idea. You know, because of space and all." Raven said, hands thrown defensively.

"I…this is…thoughtful. Really. And you're all fine with it?" Clarke asked, cautious.

"Why not? It'll be a nice change for once." Bellamy replied, bluntly, oblivious to the meaning behind his comment.

"Bell!" Octavia reprimanded him, slapping his shoulder.

"What?" Bellamy questioned, still oblivious.

"No. He's right. Carefree is good." Clarke defended him.

With a victorious smirk, Monty brought a projector out that looked like the one she had back on the Ark. Monty had tinkered it so it would work on a portable power source and rigged it with a loud speaker. It was handy work. With Wick's help, he placed it on the table behind them.

"So, I can't really shuffle through the videos. Raven didn't have the time to configure a remote. We can only switch to the next one without knowing which is it till it's on." Monty clarified.

"We are going to need a white sheet or something that'll make do. Somebody forgot about it." Wick teased.

"Hey! I didn't forget about it, I just…forgot it." Raven protested.

"Same difference." Wick continued with his banter towards Raven.

"Stay put. I'll ask around. Maybe even bring some curious Grounders." Clarke proposed, willing to share this experience with the Commander and see if Lexa would react the same Clarke did when she saw a horse for the first time.

"Sure. I'd like to see Indra's face." Octavia laughed at the thought of catching her First off guard.

"I'll be right back." Clarke added before exiting the tent.

Clarke decided she would look by herself before resigning to ask someone. It didn't take long for Clarke to reach Lexa's tent, which was also hers by extension she kept reminding herself. Ryder had followed and taken his place by the entrance, alone. Meaning the Commander wasn't inside. Clarke hesitated for a second about rummaging through the chests to find what she was looking for. She didn't want to be caught red-handed, though there was no malice with her being here without Lexa's presence or being informed. Clarke hadn't seen Lexa on her way in and couldn't waste time looking for her around camp, especially if she was supervising the last preparations for the celebration. She didn't want to bother her for such trivial thing. Clarke took a step forward, then another until she knelt in front of her own chest first. There was no shame in looking inside what had been given to her. She had opened the lid when she heard someone behind her, clearing their throat. Clarke didn't need to turn around to find out who it was. No one other than her and Lexa were allowed to walk freely inside this tent.

"I went to the guest tent to see if you needed anything. To my surprise, you were not there." Lexa amusingly complained.

"I just left to look for something white and large to serve as a screen." Clarke said over he shoulder, still crouched by her chest.

"You should have sent someone." Lexa gently scolded her.

"Lexa, I'm healed enough to carry a simple linen." Clarke sighed, as she closed the lid.

"Alright. I may have something of use. Does it have to be white?" Lexa walked to Clarke and offered her a hand to help her back on her feet.

"Not really. A pale color will do the trick." Clarke replied as she took the hand, dusting herself off once she stood up.

Lexa went to one of her chests and grabbed a light khaki thick fabric twice the size of the war table that stood feet from them.

"It used to be a table cloth. It has dagger holes in it. Will it be a problem?" Lexa shrugged.

"Dagger holes?" Clarke raised her eyebrows, amused at what she guessed were the result of Lexa's antics.

Lexa handed sheepishly the sheet to Clarke, whose hands lingered in the space between them, arms held out in front of her.

"You should come." Clarke offered with an inviting look.

"What do you plan to do?" Lexa inquired.

"Watch a movie…It's moving pictures, like drawings, but they are hmm… alive?!" Clarke smiled as she tried to explain.

"I have read about it but the concept still is foreign to me. How can pictures be alive?" Lexa asked with genuine curiosity.

"If you come, you'll see." Clarke enticed her, giving her a small kiss on the cheek. With that Clarke left the tent and a confused Lexa behind.

"I've found this." Clarke exclaimed as she entered the tent, brandishing the cloth in front of her.

"Took you long enough." Raven complained with a mocking tone.

"Yeah, because white-ish sheets are so common in Grounders' home." Clarke retorted, handing the linen to Wick.

"Let's do this." He proclaimed.

Monty turned the projector on and Clarke held her breath. It has been so long since she had been in front of a movie that it felt like another lifetime. As soon as she made her mental comment, she realized the awful truth from it. It did belong to another life, one she hadn't taken time to think about since reality on the ground came at the forefront in the meanderings of her mind. This realization was a sad truth to stumble upon and melancholy submerged her. Clarke would not let it show. Her friends somehow needed this more that she did. Making them happy with this gesture was enough to overlook the tightening of her chest.

They came across many movies, cartoons and even old educational films from their school curricular but couldn't decide which one to watch. There was always someone to veto the film on display. They had vetoed anything that talked about war, future, space, apocalypse, horror, complicated plot, drama, romcom…pretty much every movie they seemed to have. They finally agreed on the majority win and settled for an animated movie that was light and innocent enough not to re-ash painful memories.

They were halfway through the movie when their laughter and the vehement soundtrack attracted curious onlookers. It had been one thing to imagine the reaction of someone who's never seen a movie, let alone knowing what it was, but it was truly another to see the apprehension turned into awe on their faces, especially the kids. Their tent had filled so much Clarke had retreated to the back, leaning her shoulder on one of the posts.

"This is entertaining, but I do not see why the monsters are scarred of one little girl." Lexa whispered in Clarke's ear, catching her off-guard. Clarke's body stiffened from the sudden public proximity. Lexa rounded the post and leaned her back against it, at Clarke's side. No one was paying them attention.

"She came from a world they were taught to fear and scare but she is not afraid of them." Clarke explained softly in a hushed voice.

"A bit like us." Lexa affirmed as she looked at Clarke.

"I guess so." Clarke smiled with her eyes, catching Lexa's.

"I like the blue fluffy bear. He is kind and protective of her."

"Black suits you better." Clarke confessed to an admiring Lexa, her eyes locked on the screen and a smile at her lips. Lexa quietly laughed at the comparison, a sound Clarke could get used to. Lexa allowed herself to revel in the intimacy offered by their isolated positions and the captivating moving pictures her people stared at. Even Indra peaked from time to time inside the tent.

She felt Clarke rest her head on her shoulder and indulged in the happiness that gave her. She uncrossed her arms and wrapped Clarke around her middle with one. She entwined the other with Clarke's hand. They stayed like this until Indra ordered the kids home for the chores to do before the feast. Lexa walked to the entrance to see them out. They were no Grounders left inside by the time the kids exited, apart from Nyko who had waited for an opportune time to check on Clarke.

They were in deep discussion about the range motion of her right shoulder when the movie froze. It intrigued Clarke for she knew this was not the end of it. She turned around when the image changed and her heart skipped a beat from the ice-cold blood that had invaded her body.

She was facing her father.

She recognized her old home and the clothes he was wearing. They were burned in her mind. She wanted to move forward to turn the projector off but her body wouldn't obey, the empty hole his absence had created urging her to take the memento that was given to her. Her friends were too surprised by the glitch to even realize the tragedy that was occurring. Most of them had not recognized the man. The video unfroze as her father stepped back from the camera and sat in his chair.

"People of the Ark. Today I need to talk to you about our future. The things I need to tell you are serious. The Ark is dying. This city in space that has been our sanctuary will be no more. Time is running out. This is an undeniable reality, but we have pledged our lives to make sure that humanity doesn't share that fate. Now, while there's still time, we must come together and face this crisis head on. I believe it will bring out the best in us – our strength, our humanity, our faith. That we will come together in this time of uncertainty as a people. I'm telling you this because you must know the truth, and because I want a future for my child and yours. God speed."

Jake paused, lost in his thought for a moment before facing the camera again.

"Clarke my beautiful daughter. If you are seeing this video, it means that I succeeded or been denounced. Either way, I'm not with you anymore and for that I'm sorry. Don't blame yourself for my actions. It's only you and your mother now. Take care of each other. I'm so proud of the remarkable woman you are becoming. You have so much heart and passion. Always remember who you are. May we meet…"

Clarke barged in behind her father.

"You're gonna disobey the Council, aren't you?"

Her father turned around on his chair, back to the camera he didn't turn off and looked at his daughter, facing him, like he didn't know what she was talking about.

"Dad, I know. I heard you and mom." Clarke said, rolling her eyes.

"Okay, you know. I've been thinking about this a long time. People have a right to know. Your mother doesn't understand." He defended.

"What's the plan?"

"You don't need to know the plan."

"Well, you're making a video. So what? You're gonna break to the communications' mainframe?!" Clarke said as she gestured towards the camera, looking past her father. "Making you either suicidal or incredibly dumb!" She continued.

"Wow, you are picking a fine moment to start behaving like a typical teenager." He said as he stood from the chair to rest his hands on his daughter's shoulders.

"I'm gonna help you."

"No Clarke, you can't."

"But I can."

"Absolutely not."

Clarke stood firm, looking straight in her father's eyes, not backing down.

"Oh kiddo. You get that stubborn streak from your mother, you know. One of the many things I love about both of you." Jake hugged her and kissed her on the top of her head.

They were both startled by noises coming from the outside. Clarke went to the door and left their quarters for a moment before she came back running.

"Dad. Guards are coming this way." She exclaimed, out of breath, as she closed the door to their quarters.

"Everything is going to be okay. I promise." He said as he took something from the recording device. Then he went out of the frame. Clarke followed him with her eyes, turning her head.

"Don't hide it in there. They'll find it. Here, let me." She extended her arm and also stepped out of the frame, walking towards her father.

"No Clarke. I can't bring you further into this. You should go before they come." He said as he was pushing Clarke back into the frame towards the door. Clarke turned furiously around.

"I won't leave you."

"Clarke. GO." Her father insisted, his hand ready to swipe the door open.

"No." She said with finality, crossing her arms in front of her, blocking the door. As she heard stomping in the corridor, she stepped away from the door, ready to face the guards. Her father quickly disappeared before standing beside her, extending a protective arm in front of her to prevent her from doing anything. The door opened and the guards swarmed inside.

"Jake Griffin. You are under arrest. You were found guilty of high treason. You are to be led to the Chancellor in the Space Bay." The Major spoke.

"What? No! He hasn't been tried yet."

"Clarke. It's done." Jake grabbed Clarke by the shoulders and looked her in the eyes.

Clarke didn't accept it and fought the guards that were coming to take her father away.

"I won't let you float him for trying to save your sorry ass."

She landed a punch on one of the guards' jaw who, in result, stumbled back from the unexpectedness and surprising force of it. The other one grabbed the shock baton and went at her. Her father tried to intervene but two other guards moved to restrain him. He struggled against them, trying to fend them off, as he watched his daughter being stunned.

"Stop this. I'll follow. Just leave my daughter alone." He pleaded.

"Lieutenant Carmichael. Take her to the holding cells. Inform the Chancellor of the situation."

"You don't have to do this." He tried again.

The high-ranked guard nodded for the guards to move out. Clarke regained her senses and she pushed forward to lock her arms around her father's neck.

"I'll warn them. I'll find a way."

"No Clarke. Listen to me, do not do that."

The guards were pulling Clarke away from her father.

"Get off of me. Let me go." She struggled, watching, helpless as her father was carried out of their home.

"Dad! DAD!" She cried.

"Be strong Clarke." Her father said as he was led away in the corridor.

Clarke tried to free herself from the stronghold only to be stunned again. She fell semi-conscious before being dragged out. Wells was in the crowd that had gathered outside the Griffins' quarters. He watched with concern his friend being arrested before disappearing from the screen. The remaining guards searched the room and the recording stopped when one of the guards swept the desk and broke the lens.

All eyes were on Clarke but nobody dared approach her, too aghast to even think about it. Even Lexa was in shock from what she had seen. Clarke had barely time to register what just happened – consumed, distressed and shattered by the memory – when another video started. On this one, Clarke was a little girl on her father's lap and her mother rounded the camera to join them, a lit makeshift candle in hand. Clarke who had been frozen in place ever since her father had appeared on the screen, so far from space, reacted as she ran towards the projector and Monty.

"Turn it off."

"Happy birthday to you…"

"Turn it off now!" Clarke yelled.

"I'm trying." Monty whimpered, panicking.

Clarke didn't wait for Monty to figure out how to stop the cruel video. Clarke grabbed the hardware, ripped it off the projector and smashed it on the ground.

Clarke was breathing fast, fuming and panicking. She raised her head to look at the people that now surrounded her, trying to reach her with their hands, kindness and reassuring words. Lexa had stayed by the entrance of the tent. She was not familiar with Clarke's past in the sky nor did she gather all the circumstances that had led Clarke to prison, but she understood that her relation with a father had been one of utmost respect and love. Apart from a strand of braided her and trinkets, Grounders did not keep souvenirs from those who were gone. To dwell on the past was seen as weakness. Lexa did not know how she would react if she saw Costia's face again but she knew that it would be heartbreaking. So she looked deeply into Clarke's eyes, nodded her understanding and opened the flap for her to escape before blocking the way from her overly inquisitive friends.

Clarke fled and did not spare a look to see if anyone was following her. She knew Ryder was her shadow no matter the circumstances. Grounders had started to arrive from villages in the vicinity, landing a hand to put the finishing touches to the decorations and light the torches. But she didn't pay much attention as she passed them.

As dusk was falling, Clarke ran across the training ground and only stopped when she tripped over a root at the far end of the plot. She did not bother getting up after falling on her knees, unconsciously not wishing to worry Lexa furthermore like she sure was after what just happened and would if she ran into the forest as she had first intended to do. Clarke arched her back backwards as she raised her face towards the sky, closing her eyes with her intake of air. Then she violently fell on her hands as nausea bubbled up in her chest. She bent forward as the content of her stomach ran down the dirt, acid tears streaking her cheeks. She stayed like this, on all fours over the putrescent rejection of her guts, until she felt the heaves die down. When she was certain her stomach had nothing left to bring back up, Clarke picked herself up, wiped her mouth with her sleeve and walked back to the camp. As she nears her tent, she saw Bellamy waiting by the fire in front of it. By the looks of it, Lexa had already gone to greet her people. She slowed down to ask Ryder to give her some privacy. Ryder nodded and passed her to take his place by the tent's entrance. Clarke resumed her fast pace and gestured for Bellamy to sit back down as she joined him on the log.

"Hey. Were you really waiting for me?" Clarke wondered, huskily.

"Somebody's got to look out for you." Bellamy leant on his side and softly bumped her shoulder.

"You've gone a long way Bellamy Blake." Clarke bumped him back, with genuine admiration and something that could be interpreted as sibling love.

"Look who's talking." Bellamy said, playful.

"I think we all have." Clarke replied, staring at the mesmerizing dancing flames, with such brokenness and sadness in her voice Bellamy stilled.

"You're alright Princess?" Bellamy pondered her words a moment before asking as he moved to face Clarke, folding a leg to rest on the log.

"I will be, eventually." Clarke squared her shoulders as an attempt to convince him, and also herself, that she believed in her words.

"We're here for you, you know that right?"

"I know. Thanks Bell."

"You're an actual badass, that punch! A born rebel." Bellamy exclaimed, trying to lightened the mood a bit.

"I guess it's a family thing." Clarke replied shyly.

"Do you miss him?" Bellamy asked, serious again.

"Every day, especially now. I thought I would be happy if I saw his face again, or heard his voice, but it only reminds me of his absence. I'm sorry I ran out on you guys."

"Don't worry about it. And I know what you mean. Though I'd like a picture or something of my mom to remember her by."

"You have Octavia."

"She has her temper you know. Octavia is mom's spitting image."

"She is resilient. She is more like you than you give yourself credit for."

Bellamy looked over at the growing crowd, at the flux of people converging towards the village, where intensifying chatter could be heard.

"We better get going. We wouldn't want to be late to our own victory party."

"You go. I'll catch up. I got to change."

"Sure thing Princess. I guess I'll see you there."

"I'll save you a drink."

Bellamy walked a few steps backwards, grinning, before turning around and running at a light pace to the village. Clarke watched him disappear between tents and huts before standing up and entering the tent.

As she walked to her chambers, she saw pieces of clothing laid for her on the bed. It was nothing fancy but still better than the clothes Octavia had found among the spares at the Ark and brought back to her in Ton DC. Most of Clarke's clothes had been torn, ripped or stained at some point.

Clarke was getting tired of her old rags though she had never asked for anything, especially new clothes, but she wasn't naïve to think they had not been purposefully gathered for her. She knew she'd have to thank Lexa. She was glad the brunette cared for the little things Clarke thought Lexa would not bother herself with. Clarke liked these small intentions, as it spoke volume for the Commander.

Clarke stepped closer to the bed and picked up the first thing her hands reached – dark brown form fitting pants with subtle padding at the knees. Then she looked on and found a dark blue tunic with long sleeves and a brown leather jacket with small leather guards sewn at each shoulder, and fur-lined hood and rims. It wasn't warrior clothing; if it were, the coat wouldn't stop at her waist. But it was definitely Grounder clothes.

She changed and remarked that the clothes fit perfectly, designed to be practical yet comfortable. She found matching leather fingerless gloves in the pockets and a thin leather headband. It would keep her hair from falling in her face while not having to tie locks of her own hair to achieve the same result. Clarke wished she had a full-length mirror within reach to see the fruit of this thoughtful, well-matched outfit.

She quickly cleaned her face and walked out with an assured pace, relegating the earlier debacle to the back of her mind.

Clarke had lost the notion of time. Days and weeks and months were a blur, and she couldn't tell how far along they were in the year anymore. All she could grasp was that winter was at their door and the crisp air the wind blew made her shiver. However, as Clarke approached the throng of Grounders and Sky People alike, she could see the feast had been prepared like it would have been any given summer day. Long tables were dressed with clothes and flowers, candles set equally distant to one another on each table. A post had been planted in the middle of the gathering with several ropes and strips of fabrics stretched from it to surrounding roofs and trees. Fine colored ribbons, flower braids and ball-shaped lanterns made of glass and steel with burning scented oil hung above the tables. Torches had been set in the ground and fire pits were arranged around the assembly. A small stage had been constructed to welcome the Commander's table, to overlook the people.

On one side of the venue, a massive banquet table was over-flooded with food; an entire roasted bear stood in the middle with different assortments of meat, vegetables, berries, nuts, cheese and bread. There were amphoras filled with sour wine and craft beers, a gift from the Grass Clan leader who couldn't make the trip. Several leaders, those who were the farthest from Ton DC had respectfully declined the Commander's invitation and sent representatives in their place, bearing offerings that represented the specific skill of the Clan it came from – the forementioned drinks, weaponry, furs…

Clarke took it all in and couldn't but open her mouth and stare in wonder. Clarke's eyes wandered around her and found a pair of green ones that were looking intensely back at her. Clarke pulled herself from her daze and smiled softly at Lexa who could not keep her eyes off of the blonde ever since she caught sight of her walking among the crowd. Lexa nodded with an approving smile as her eyes traveled down and up Clarke's body, and waved for her to come to her.

"I guess I should thank you for the clothes." Clarke said with no preamble as she stopped in front of Lexa.

"No need. It was the least I could do." Lexa stated as she took a better look at the blonde whose outfit fitted closely her curves.

"You shouldn't have but thank you anyway." Clarke insisted with a shy smile.

"You are welcome Clarke." Lexa said as she locked her gaze to the Sky girl.

Lexa adjusted a rebellious strand on Clarke's forehead, bringing it behind the girl's ear. It was an anodyne gesture yet the signification behind it wasn't lost on those who bore witness of the small exchange. Lexa was subtly affirming her claim on Clarke. Lexa's hand lingered a moment on the side of Clarke's head and Clarke turned her head a little to deepen the contact.

They stayed silent, content to be with the other, looking into each other's soul before Clarke felt unease at the amount of emotions Lexa's eyes could convey and stir up in her. Clarke felt her heartbeat increase. She took a step back and broke the spell as she concentrated her attention on something else.

"Are all feasts always decorated so beautifully?"

"This is a historical occasion. Those that take place during festivals in Polis are even more wondrous. You will see for yourself when we go there."

Clarke averted her eyes to hide the blush that was creeping on her cheeks. She had forgotten Lexa's offer to join her to the capital before Clarke had more or less confessed she wasn't indifferent to the way Lexa made her feel. They hadn't talk about it again after the battle but Clarke was somehow pleased to hear the offer still stood. As Clarke raised her head to look back at Lexa, she saw her friends gathered in the background, glancing towards her, concern on their face. She offered them a weak smile before turning her attention back to the brunette in front of her.

"I'm sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have run like I did. It wasn't really leaderlike."

"You do not have to apologize. I do not know how I would have reacted in your place. Your father looked like he was a good man."

"He was. That day was the last I saw him. They executed him, and I thought…to hear him...With everything that's happened, I had to get out."

"Your friends were not too pleased I threatened them with my sword to not follow you." She said, a smirk playing on her lips, as she looked behind her to Clarke's group of friends. "They worry about you." Lexa added, in all seriousness.

"I know." Clarke replied with a sigh.

"Come. Let us begin." Lexa gestured for Clarke to walk with her to the Commander's table. As she walked, Clarke looked around to see her mother's whereabouts, as she was sure to be seated at the same table, and found her withdrawn from the Sky People's delegation, brooding in a corner. Clarke didn't linger and determinedly avoided to pay attention to her.

Lexa and Clarke stood behind their chair as their respective party joined them on the stage. Indra and Ford, Lexa's newly appointed General in her personal guard, sat at the Commander's right. Bellamy, Marcus and Abby were at Clarke's left, Abby seating the farthest from her. Octavia, Lincoln and Ryder stood behind Clarke with the rest of Lexa's guards, waiting to be dismissed. A table had been set for them, near the Commander's table.

Lexa called for the crowd to quiet down as she started her speech.

"Teik sen ai in! Ai kru. Kom Tondisi en oda stegedas. Osir glong raun hir ona disha sheidgeda gon kik sliplei kom oson mou biga baga op. Sonrauns don giv op ba oso don kik maunon thru. En hir ste klir kom emo nou. Jus don daun chof gon Skaikru. Skaikru ste lukot kom kongeda-de. Prisa Klark kom Skaikru don sis ol au taim em don klir sonrauns kom oson krus op en don flosh Maun-de klin. Ona disha sheidgeda osir ste seimon. Graun en skai. Ona disha sheidgeda osir kik sonplein op. Gon wines!" (Listen! My people. From Ton DC and other villages. We are gathered here tonight to celebrate the fall of our greatest enemy. Lives were sacrificed but we survived the Mountain Men. We are safe from them now. Blood had blood thanks to the Sky People. Sky People are friends of the Coalition. Prisa Clarke of the Sky People helped us all when she saved the lives of our people and destroyed the Mountain. Tonight, we are the same. Ground and Sky. Tonight, we celebrate life. To victory.")

Lincoln had come to Clarke to translate what the Commander was saying and finished up just as Lexa raised her glass. Clarke looked as people imitated her to toast while chanted 'Gon wines'. Lexa and Clarke exchanged an infinitesimal glance full of pride and devotion, and a hint of sadness on Clarke's part, before taking a sip and sitting down.

The celebration was at its apex. The food had come and gone, bones and crumbs littering the plates that had been carelessly moved on the tables. Candlewax was running along their stick and onto the tables, sticking to the wood. Glasses had spilled their content on disheveled table clothes. The scented oil filled the air with their sweet fragrance of honey and cinnamon. People were mingling, pouring glass of deliciously treacherous beverage to those who could still form coherent thoughts, Sky People daring Grounders to drink Monty's Moonshine bottom's up. Pleasing notes of flutes, drums and other unidentified instruments were playing over the increasing drunken chatter, the bravest dancing on tables to the melody.

Clarke had longed retreated to one of the fire pits, looking at the party from the outside, not feeling the need or appropriate to celebrate life when it was won on the back of so much death. So, when her table was informally dismiss to partake in the celebration of their victory, Clarke had left Lexa to the politics of entertaining her guests, took an half-emptied amphora and found a log by a deserted fire. She was starting to feel the effects of the sour Grounder wine when Raven joined her. Clarke poured herself another drink and gestured for Raven's glass. Raven shook her head no and put her glass on the ground before determinedly turning to Clarke.

"Clarke, what's going on between you and Lexa?" Raven asked, cutting to the chase.

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't want to bring it up earlier because of…you know. But I need to know. I saw the two of you in the tent and again during the feast, the way you look at each other."

"I…it's complicated." Clarke deflected, averting her eyes to look at the content of her glass.

"Are you two…together?" Raven asked hesitantly, afraid of the answer more than the offense.

"It's complicated." Clarke said with more assurance, turning toward Raven.

"Oh come on! Don't play dumb with me. You either are or you aren't." Raven shouted.

"Nothing is simple about us Raven." Clarke retorted on the defensive.

"So there is an 'us'." Raven said, lowering her voice.

"Yes there is, I think. We are working on it."

"Are you fucking serious right now?"

"I didn't want to talk about it until…"

"Until what?"

"I know what you think."

"Do you now?"

"That's why it's complicated."

"No, it's pretty freaking simple to me. She killed Finn, Clarke. She tied him up and killed him. And she almost skewered me as well."

"I am the one who killed Finn and you're not dead."

"That makes it all better." Raven replied, bitter.

"You don't understand…" Clarke sighed.

"I think I do. You're sleeping with the enemy." Clarke was flabbergasted at Raven's sharp accusation.

"With leadership come hard decisions, decisions I had to make myself. Lexa was only doing her job. She's not the enemy. And I'm not sleeping with her!"

"I thought you were my friend Clarke."

"I am. And I thought you had forgiven me about Finn."

"Maybe I did. But I can't forgive you for falling for the one who condemned him in the first place."

"Finn condemned himself. And it's not like I chose to."

"But you can choose to come back with us and stop this…thing."

"I can't and I won't. You sound like my mother."

"Maybe you should listen to her."

"And maybe you should leave."

"I can't believe you. Are you really going to choose Lexa over your friends and your people?"

"I don't have to choose anything."

"Yes you do."

"Raven…Me not going back to Camp Jaha has nothing to do with her and you know it."

"That doesn't make it right."

"I'm confused about everything right now but I know I can't go back there and I know how I feel about her. Neither you nor my mother will change that."

"Then I guess you've made your choice." Raven said dejected and heartsick as she stood up to disappear in the crowd.

"Raven…" Clarke whispered, feeling like she's been punched in the guts by the one she called her best friend, if those kinds of friendship could be developed on the ground on such short amount of time. Raven felt more like family and she, for lack of a better word, just disowned her.

Clarke was once again alone at the fire. She lowered herself to ground and brought her knees to her chest. She brought her glass to her lips and smelled the content but not even the prospect of drowning her sorrow with the remaining wine she had in her possession sounded appealing. She threw the cup furiously in the fire instead and buried her head in her arms.

From the other side of the celebration, Lexa was discussing with the emissaries from the Horse and Wolf Clan; half a mind planning future visits and the other focused on a head of blonde hair. Lexa did not miss an ounce of the confrontation that occurred between the two friends. She could not hear the content of their discord but guessed that the outcome was not to either's liking. Though every fiber in her being urged her to go console Clarke, for she could not stand seeing the one she cared for hurting, reason dictated her to see to it away from prying eyes, in the confines of their privacy. Against her better selfish judgment, Lexa decided to give Clarke her space for the remaining of the party, keeping a protective eye on her from where she stood. When Lexa would finally get back to her tent after being forced to knock two of her warriors out for their aggressive inebriety, she would find Clarke struggling in her dreaming state. Lexa thought Clarke had found some reprieve from the nightmares in the last few days but clearly the events of the day had sparked another burst of torment in the writhing girl she could not help but stare with worry. There was no real reprieve. Clarke's sense of guilt was more oppressive than any physical punishment. So Lexa removed her attire and put on her usual tank top and loose cotton short for the rest of the night before slipping under the furs and tenderly wrapping her arms around her weakness.

She was surrounded with the people of Mount Weather. They were all covered in blisters, peeled skins and bloody gashes. Their eyes were translucent. They were all standing in the room that saw them die. Clarke was among them, in the middle of them. She turned on herself, not standing too long on anyone. They were not moving. They just stood there and stared at her. Then, one of them moved from the back, making its way to Clarke. Clarke froze. She knew who it was. It was always the same person – Maya. She would always walk up to her and stop a few feet away. Maya stayed silent. They were all silent. There was so much silence that it became a deafening noise. Clarke couldn't take her eyes off Maya. Her ghostly appearance made her want to throw up. But she could only stare. There was nothing she could say; words wouldn't come out. Maya lifted her arm and pointed a finger at Clarke. They all did. Children appeared and stand beside Maya. Clarke closed her eyes but she could see behind her eyelids. And when she brought her hands up to block the view, she saw that they were covered in fresh blood. The room filled with voices, echoes of angry, sad voices. A jumble of words that made Clarke cover her ears to no avail. 'You did this'. 'The air'. 'You poisoned us…' They were overwhelming. Clarke would usually squat. This time, she stood still because new figures had joined the ghosts of Mount Weather. In the back of the room stood Finn with Wells and her dad. Behind them, a door opened and she could see her friends chained to the walls while a screaming Raven was drilled into. But Clarke didn't waver and stood still, taking it all in until it was too much. She opened her eyes to see the silhouettes march towards her. 'I'm sorry. I didn't want to. I'm so sorry.' Maya was now inches from Clarke. The voices stopped abruptly. Maya opened her mouth. 'Open your eyes Clarke.' Maya slapped her. Clarke felt it. Maya grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her vigorously. 'WAKE UP!'

Clarke flashed her eyes open. She breathed fast, gasping for air. Her heart raced and sweat dripped on her neck. She was disorientated. It took her a moment to hold a grasp at reality and remember where she was. When she adjusted to the dim candlelight, she saw a pair of green eyes hover over her. Lexa. Clarke propped herself up to a sitting position as Lexa straightened at her side. Clarke's hand touched her cheek as she felt a burning sensation there.

"Did you just slap me?"

"Yes. I am sorry. You would not wake up. You were yelling."

"I didn't mean to."

"I know. You should get back to sleep."

"I can't."

"Try." Lexa got up to pour Clarke and herself some water.

"I don't want to face them again." Clarke said after a moment.

Lexa finished her drink, turned around and handed a cup to Clarke who drank it greedily. She knew what Clarke meant. Putting the cup on the ground, Lexa sat back near her Sky girl, laying both legs on the furs, resting her back on the head of the bed and opening her arms to hold Clarke in a warm embrace. Clarke moved slightly so her side touched Lexa's and nested her head on her chest. Lexa wrapped her arms around Clarke and rested her head on blonde wavy hair. Lexa did not know how long they stayed like this. Clarke's nightmares had worsened. Lexa felt Clarke's breath even out and her body lean into her and relax.

"I don't know how to live with what I've done. It hurts too much. When I let the emotions in, their ghosts flood and overpower me."

"You cannot fight it, it is bigger than you. You have to let it all in to heal. You feel like this because of who you are. You are good, Clarke."

"Good doesn't belong in this world."

"It does. You have shown it to me. And you are. Only someone good would feel guilt and remorse over killing enemies."

"It's not about all of them."

"I know."

"I grieve for the innocents. But I'm mostly sad…about me."

"What do you mean?" Lexa played coy. She had seen the turmoil behind the façade of Clarke's smiles and beneath the blue of her eyes.

"I'm sad about who I've become. Your people are right, I am become Death."

"Do not take this name they have for you to your heart. Who we are and what we have to do are two different things. Sometimes, we have to stray from who we are for the greater good. It does not mean we cannot remain the same."

"But we can't remain the same. What we do changes us, whether we like it or not."

"You have a point. But whether you let it change you for the better or for the worse is up to you. Good can be born from the darkest places."

"Some places are too dark to see the light."

"I do not believe that. Neither do you. You were never a bad person. You were just a good person facing a complex situation and who had to make an impossible choice."

"I made a bad choice."

"You made the only good choice that was handed to you. There are no good and bad in nature. It just is. We define these notions as we live. You may see your choice as bad because of your heart but you will see that the difference between good and bad is about where you stand with the principles you have created for you and for your people."

"I…" Clarke sighed. "Everything used to be simpler. There was black and there was white, good and bad if you prefer. Now, it's just a blurred line. You might understand it Lexa, your people might understand it, but mine never will. We weren't brought up that way."

"From what I have witnessed, it seems that a lot of your people might be more comprehensive than you think."

"There's a limit to their understanding."

"A leader does not need understanding or approval as long as you do right by your people."

"That's the thing, they think I did wrong by them."

"Have you asked them?"

"No, but I know. Octavia might speak to me again but she still hasn't forgiven me about Ton DC. Raven doesn't want anything to do with me. My own mother can't look me in the eyes."

"Clarke. They worry about you. They helped my people give a decent burial to the bodies. I think they understand more than you assume. And that scares them. You have to give them time."

"I can't go back there. I can't face them and see my guilt echoed in their eyes. I bare it so they don't have to."

"Then let me bare it with you."

"You already have so much on your shoulders. I can't let you do that, not to your people."

"You are my people Clarke. You have been for some time."

Clarke felt so empty. She didn't deserve Lexa's generosity. But she also couldn't help the flutter that started in her chest. Clarke thought that her heart could never be mended, not after so many breaks but somehow, Lexa's soothing presence reached past her ribs, inside the hollow cavity. Clarke could feel the tiny pieces move around, trying to fit together. It would be a slow process. Redemption always was. And Clarke wasn't sure if she were worthy of it.

She sensed Clarke had fallen asleep and Lexa felt more awake than she ever was. She held Clarke as a precious cargo she did not want to part with. Lexa had grown fond of their night ritual and she was greedy. She had wanted more of Clarke ever since they kissed and nighttime was the cloak under which they both were allowed to hold onto each other. Clarke was seeking Lexa's presence and comfort more and more. Lexa had found herself very happy to comply. Lexa knew however that she should not abuse this privilege. She felt like taking advantage of the Sky leader. Despite Clarke's reciprocated fondness, Lexa knew how truly broken she was and Lexa would not push Clarke further in their relationship until Clarke felt better.

Two days after the feast, Clarke woke before dawn and slipped out of the tent, leaving Lexa to sleep. She walked aimlessly in the forest before her feet unconsciously led her to a path she recognized.

The sun had risen and chased a slim fog as she had gone to the drop ship site where her life on the ground had started. She had asked Ryder to make himself scarce, as she needed this time alone. She walked, for the first time, since she'd escaped Mount Weather with Anya and saved Lincoln, past the battered gates and the ruins of what used to be her home on Earth. She trop upon charred soil; mix of dirt, burnt wood and human ash. She was careful to where she stepped, aware that the bodies of the three hundred warriors, that had raged war against the Hundred, had not been touched and were still scattered inside her former camp. She did not know how it would be seen if she were to move them to give them a proper funeral, either by putting them in the ground or burning what was left of the them. She decided that she would refrain from angering the spirits Grounders believed in and let the bones be.

She reached the drop ship platform, which was wide-open, remnants of the parachute still hanging from the ceiling. It was like she was visiting a ghost town or having a disturbing lucid dream. She hopped on the platform and took a deep breath before setting the fabric aside and making her way inside. It had been scavenged, nothing was where she remembered she saw them last; scraps of metal were pushed in the corners; the broken stools, the leaking water tank, the emptied guns, the makeshift beds and hammocks were gone, only the dried blood remained. The blood they had coughed before the attack of the Grounders, the blood that'd been spilled with each wounded from the moment they arrived, the blood Raven had lost before they were separated by the Mountain Men.

Clarke felt light-headed and caught the ladder as she felt herself lose balance. She leaned her head on the cold metal bar, closed her eyes and, inhaled and exhaled deep breaths as often and as long as it took for her heart to calm down and her head to still. When she opened her eyes again, the dizziness had gone. She looked up at the hatch that led to the two other levels of the drop ship but she couldn't manage to set one foot on the first bar of the ladder. There were too many memories. Her mind was already overloaded enough to add the weight of them. She let go of the ladder and walked back outside where a cool breeze finished to appease her senses.

She rounded the ship to face the side her mom had tentatively written on when the Ark had landed. The wind and the rain had washed it all away. She stared at it for a moment before putting one hand on it and closing her eyes. An idea occurred to her, something her mind had been compulsively nagging at her but Clarke had refused to listen to it in her efforts to punish herself.

She stepped back, opening her eyes, as her hand reached for the dagger that was sheathed at her waist.

She brought the blade to the wall, pushing the tip in the metal, testing the pressure to give to have the desired result. When she was satisfied, she looked around to find a big fallen log to use as a stepladder. She rolled it as close to the drop ship wall as she could and, once she made sure it was secured, climbed on it and started to engrave in silence, focusing all her concentration on the task.

She began with a saying then proceeded to carve marks; one vertical line for every life she has taken, one line for every death she felt responsible for, identifying some with names of the people they belonged to when she could.

It took her all day, from the pale light of morning until the sun had crept behind the tree line. Clarke had religiously marked them all, not stopping until she was done. There were forty rows with thirty-five lines each. A thousand and four hundred marks. Apart from the occasional name, there was no distinction between the lines. A life was still a life whether it came from space, the ground or inside a mountain. Death did not segregate with her hand.

She had started methodically with marks for the Sky People; The first being for her father Jake, then the three hundred and twenty persons that died on the Ark as she had taken off her bracelet and failed to inform them about Earth's survivability in time. She had continued with the fifty-six Hundreds that had died since they've landed on the Ground, engraving the names of Finn, Wells, Charlotte, Fox, Atom, Sterling, Trina, Pascal, Diggs, John, Rohma, Dax, Conner, Miles...She wished she had made time to know them all by name instead of asking Octavia to help her make a list of those they could remember.

She had gone on to the Grounders; the hundred innocent people that perished from the rocket launch as a failed attempt to communicate with the Ark, the three hundred warriors she burned to death in the midst of war, the two-hundred and fifty people she sacrificed in Ton DC, the eighteen Finn killed looking for her and the one she watched die as she sliced his throat. She had added the names of Tris, Anya, Artigas, Gustus and Quint.

And she had finished with the Mountain Men. She didn't know how many they were when she was inside that night so she had carved three-hundred and fifty marks with only one named, for Maya, the others she remembered not deserving the recognition.

Clarke was exhausted as she stepped away from her work to look at the entirety of it. She sighed a relief at the catharsis she found in acknowledging each death and giving them a reminder, like a monument people from the Ancient World used to erect after wars or significant events to the memory of those fallen.

Lexa was the one to find her in the early evening. Winter was close and days grew shorter and colder. Lexa had been worried when Clarke had not made it back to Ton DC when the sun was low on the horizon, and had decided to go search for her. She had planned to go to the Mountain but something inexplicable, stronger than instinct, drove her to the drop ship. As she approached the abandoned camp, she noticed Ryder on the lookout, perched in a tree that overlooked the site. He bowed his head and gestured her inside.

She stepped silently, with reverence, as if she was entering a sacred place. She remembered the first time she came here as she became aware she was walking on the remains of her warriors. It had been a horrendous experience. She realized the feeling had not gone away with time as she was respectfully making her way to the blonde that had turn them to dust. She did not resent Clarke for her actions but she felt unease at the thought the spirit of her warriors might not have found peace in the other life.

Clarke was sat on the ground, back leaning on a log. She had her knees to her chest and her head on her thighs, arms crossed around her legs. Lexa noticed the markings but did not linger on them. She knelt quietly in front of Clarke, who did not raise her head at her approach, and inspected her state. Clarke was covered in dirt and sweat, shivering. She caught sight of Clarke's dagger on the ground and saw traces of blood on the handle and the blade. She delicately grabbed one of Clarke's hands and turned it over. They were bloodied with cuts, scratches and gashes.

She looked up to scope the markings, traveling up each row to the top where she read three sentences out loud.

"We hereby commit these souls to the deep who, at their last, gave all to the world of the living. May they be remembered forever, until there is no more pain, no more suffering, and the abyss itself shall give up her dead and return them to us. May we meet again."

"It's our prayer to the dead."

Lexa's eyes came back to Clarke whose eyes were looking intensely at her. The brokenness she found in the dark blue orbs made her turn her head away. Her eyes landed on a mark she had not noticed before, a line at the bottom of the wall, alone and separated from the others. It had Clarke written underneath. Lexa was mortified at the sight and angry at the thought. She picked up the dagger and furiously went to erase it. The noise jolted Clarke out of her numb state.

"What are you doing?"

"You are only dead when your fight is over Clarke."

"But I feel dead inside. I should be on that wall."

"No. The dead do not feel. The dead are gone. Do not speak this way ever again."

"Why not? I deserve it. All that blood. It's all I see."

"You are not responsible for all these deaths." Lexa remarked, pointing at the markings.

"Directly. Indirectly. The fact is I'm still involved somehow. With this," Clarke gestured at the drop ship. "I didn't know what I was truly doing. Being hidden inside of it made my decision to ignite the propellers…to burn the ground, less real. But with Ton DC and Mount Weather, I knew what I was getting into. I had seen their faces. I knew some of them. Their death is too real and they just pile up on top of the others."

"We were at war. Life's loss is unavoidable. My men died as warriors. The Mountain Men had what they deserved; they were inhuman."

"As was I when I decided to kill them all without distinction."

"They would have lived to hate us more and do worse."

"You don't know that."

"No. But I did not want to find out once it was too late."

"Judge, jury and executioner."

"We do what we must."

"I get that but I still have to accept it."

"I do not know how to help you if you are not willing to forgive yourself."

"Good."

"It is not good Clarke. My pain means nothing is you're the one who hurts. Your suffering affects me. I cannot bear to lose you this way. I do not know how to lose you."

Lexa had her hands on Clarke's knees. Clarke could feel the heat penetrate the thickness of her pants, and spreading through her body and soul. She could sense the comfort Lexa's touch gave her. What she felt for the fierce Commander was palpable, measurable and tangible. But the weight of grief was too heavy. She had let it bring her down, deeper and deeper with each blow from life.

Lexa looked at her expectantly, genuine concern and sadness in her eyes. Clarke did not know how to respond. She did not know what to respond.

"Here is where all started to go wrong." Clarke finally said in a low voice. She had pinpointed the moment when things took a turn for the worse to the landing. She had come full circle.

"Had you not crashed, the Mountain would still be claiming lives they did not own; your people would be dying among the stars; and I would not have been reminded to feel again. Your destiny reached far beyond the sky Clarke. You are a survivor like the rest of us. You are strong, and kind, and beautiful. Do not let war strip you away from you. Come back to me."

"I don't know how to survive anymore, how to make peace with myself and live on." Clarke wept, with a broken voice.

"Then lean on me."

Lexa enveloped Clarke in her arms and Clarke let all the unshed tears break free. When Clarke's tears would dry up, Lexa would help her up. And as they would walk out of the sinister cemetery, Lexa would not talk but to ask her again to come with her to Polis, wholeheartedly. And Clarke would accept the escape and the fresh start that was handed to her.

AN: I wanted to say sorry again. I should have a check-up for ADD! Bare with me, it is a slow burn Clexa, they have some issues to solve. I haven't got a lot of interractions with the remaining Hundred because it's focused on Clarke and her distancing herself from the Ark is my take on her leaving at the end of season 2. She's not running away (yet!) but she still feels the need to be away from them somehow! I've made up some of the Trigedasleng from known lexical pattern. And the rating is evolving next chapter, then again I won't promise an update soon. It takes as long as it takes! (I've edited the other chapters with only minor modifications – grammar, details, location of the Clans). Reviews appreciated ;)