Hey guys.

So here it is, my Clexa fic. Something you should know: It starts immediately after the end of series 2 but after the first page break there's a bit of a time jump. Not that long, but some times passes. It's open to interpretation ;)

Hope you like. Enjoy!

Lexa strode into her tent, the hilt of her dagger clenched firmly within her fist as it hung at her side, the anger gritted firmly and harshly between her teeth. Her mind was busy with thoughts that raced way too fast, far too furiously. Her breaths coming in deep and purposeful waves as her other hand trembled, clenching desperately into fists at her side; her entire being just no longer able to suppress the fury and frustration at the whole situation.

She felt far too tightly wound for a Commander who had just won a war with hardly any further bloodshed. Not from her people, at least. The souls of those that mattered to her people. They were safe, her warriors outside rejoiced in victory. Her wounded were being tendered to but Lexa could not rejoice. She felt emotional, crushed by the weight of her own decision which was the only decision she could make, even though it saved those that were her own but not even that fact it seemed, could appease the Commander in this moment.

For she felt weak; Lexa hated it but she did. She stood stoic now safely inside her tent knowing that no one who valued their life would dare disturb her. Not now she had spent time with her wounded, talked with her generals and shared a drink with her warriors. Now she could retire alone to her sanctuary where there was nothing left to block out the feelings. No images to occupy her mind other than the look in Clarke's eyes as she turned and left her on the mountain.

Lexa squeezed her eyes shut and tilted her head to the ceiling, sucking in a staggered breath that she forced out through her nose as she tried to gain some rationality. Some perspective. Some sense that hundreds of her people were now safe. It was just Clarke's damn blue eyes. The look on her face. The hurt. The betrayal. The taste on her lips some hours before when they were last stood inside this tent...

Lexa swung herself around and let out a strangled growl, her eyes tearing open as she backhanded everything off the table to her left in one fierce, sweeping motion. Her other hand finding purpose in loosening its grip on her dagger and joining the chaos atop her war table and for just a few moments, Lexa let herself react to the pain she felt stab through her chest.

It pained her enough that she felt it at all, that she couldn't control it but even Lexa knew that anguish needed to be released, and anguish was all she felt. Anguish and loss for the only person since Costia who was able to make her feel like anything other than a fearless leader. A ruthless killer with nothing but these truths in her future until she was released into the next life. She felt sick. Like bile was crawling up from her gut and was slowly consuming her. It gripped her, tightened all around her insides and churned her up, leaving such a disgusting taste in her throat. A rancid sensation within her bones.

She pushed at her table. Sent maps billowing to the floor as she heaved her anger onto it, as if its sturdy legs could bear the weight of it as she could not. It burned inside of her, ached. Hurt in a way she hadn't hurt in years. It crawled though her veins and scratched at the underside of her skin; this thing that she had done. That she couldn't un-do.

It almost made her wish she hadn't kissed Clarke. That she hadn't seen the beauty in her eyes, the need struggling to find voice there. Hadn't witnessed the determination, courage and pure passion in every inch of her being. She wished she hadn't seen the leader she was and could be, hadn't admired her as much as did. Hadn't felt the tug inside her chest and stirring within her belly whenever they spoke. Whenever they touched.

Lexa cursed the mountain men for she knew the consequences of this. If it would have been another clan leader onto her she would seek nothing but vengeance for the betrayal, and they would pay for it with their blood. She knew it was done and this, she told herself, would be the last time she would suffer this. For as weak as knew she was for Clarke, she couldn't let it rule her. She couldn't let it torment her as it did now, as it had done on the journey down from the mountain. So she leaned a palm onto the table's surface and crashed a fist with her other hand onto its solid oak, feeling it vibrate up through her wrists and into her arms. She felt the tears sting her eyes although she'd never let them fall. She felt her heart clench again and as she dipped her head and closed her eyes once more, exhaling calmer breaths as she regained some semblance of composure she remembered that kiss one last time. The shade Clarke's blue eyes would flash when she was angry, and how serene they were when she smiled. The way they looked at her with respect. Fearful in the beginning. With something quite the opposite by the end. How she could spot Clarke from anywhere by the gold in her hair, and how she longed to run her fingers through it.

Lexa pulled her top lip through her teeth and then she straightened, heaving in one final breath as she put it all away. Buried it, as much as she was sure it would visit in her dreams but that would be her only allowance. She pushed her shoulders back and squared her jaw, swallowing thickly as Clarke's lips slipped away from her one last time. Her scent and beautiful blue eyes too.

She turned to her bed and started unclipping her armour as she stalked slowly toward it, hearing it clatter behind her as it fell to the floor. It was inevitable she would meet Clarke again, she knew. She could feel it. Clarke was strong. Intelligent, and Lexa was certain she would survive the mountain but that fact was the final wound struck deep into her heart. Penetrating right through the armour she kept on the inside, too. It festered there, and she felt herself drown as she realised if ever a possibility did exist, it would bring them to opposite ends of the battlefield. As enemies.

The only other outcome would be that Clarke wouldn't walk back out of the mountain at all, and Lexa honestly didn't know which one she preferred.

Her forehead furrowed as her eyes just stared vacantly ahead, her heart once more empty. Her soul once more in two.

A broken, bloody mess.

That's how she felt. All she could see.

A mountain full of corpses, all laid out before her. Blistered and bruised and beaten.

Blood surrounded her, though there were no remnants of that now. No scars to say she had won a war. No broken bones to say she had toppled a mountain. No battle wounds to say she had annihilated an entire people. Nothing physical, anyway. Just hollow eyes that once saw beauty. An empty hole where her heart once lay beating and images that plagued her mind. Constantly, consistently that served to remind her. To torture her at night. She let them come freely now as she ought to be reminded, she thought, as the taker of so many lives should.

She saw it often, especially over the first few weeks. The faces haunted her; Dante dropping dead before her, her finger fixed on the trigger. Her hand on the lever that caused a massacre. The rows of charred bodies she stepped over to get to her mother. Her people. Jasper's eyes full of hatred. Finn's head dropping forward lifelessly as she pulled the knife from his heart. Lexa's bloodied face as she turned and left her to die. Her and the people she loved.

Clarke carried it all like a boulder strapped to her back as she spent her days hunting for food while the sun was up. Found suitable places to rest and bathe, struggling at first as she let frustration overtake her. At least she could make fire, she often thought. At least that was something she could do. She was better at it all now, though, more efficient, although the weight from the boulder never eased.

In the beginning she walked for days, wandered aimlessly although she lied to herself, telling her fragile mind she had purpose. The guilt propelling her forward, step after step. Mile after mile, unsure of how far she got before she turned back, an absent thought going out to Jaha and how she might catch up with him. It passed though, as soon as it crossed her mind. She was certain eventually a grounder clan would come across her, or maybe even she'd end up at Polis. Although it would be miraculous if she did.

It made Clarke scoff, then, as she remembered looking into Lexa's eyes and actually consider the Commander's offer of taking her there.

"Polis will change the way you think about us."

She had said.

"You already have."

Clarke laughed aloud. Bitterly. Her hands bracing on her hips as the disdain struck her and then she shook the memory from her mind. The honesty in Lexa's eyes, the curve of her lips in her small, tight, endearing smile. All the signals of a strong alliance. Of a genuine partnership between the two of them, of peace between their people. Of whatever it was that was starting between them, and there was something because Clarke felt it. Lexa exuded it. Her eyes spoke words her lips never would and her body just projected it, her simple words then confirming it.

"But you just let them burn."

Clarke had accused her.

"Not everyone. Not you."

It was almost out of nowhere but wasn't at the same time. It caught Clarke off guard but it sparked something inside her all the same. Something she had been feeling but was holding back; something like desire, and something a lot like need. Lexa could be magnetic and sometimes it was like she was peering into Clarke's soul but she just couldn't think about it. Not now. Not ever. Not about Lexa's warm and inviting eyes, asking permission and then granting sanctuary, for however short a time. Nor about her soft lips and the gentle way she kissed her. The way her fingers pressed into the side of her neck, her thumb grazing along the hard line of her jaw. Soothing her. Clarke fell into it gladly. She kissed her back because it was exactly what she wanted. Exactly what she needed; a formidable force such as Lexa wanting her, caring for her. Perhaps needing her back just the same. It was like adding oxygen to the kindling amber within her gut. A slow burn that warmed her quickly, spreading up into her chest and igniting something there before she had to pull back. Before she realised properly what was happening. Before her mind kicked back in and took over.

She couldn't think about Lexa's dejected eyes. The vulnerability in them, the hope sparking when Clarke gave her a whisper of it. Lexa was so open in that moment. So beautiful, and the least Commander-like Clarke had seen her be.

But then she betrayed her. Lexa broke their alliance and walked away, leaving her to die on that mountain for all she was aware of. She kissed her, and then she betrayed her.

Clarke felt hatred and she couldn't dispel it. Not yet. It bubbled up inside her and took residence in her chest. Squeezed at her heart, made her stomach churn and her skin prickle. It was pure and obscene, how it consumed and clouded her mind.

She wiped out a people.

She burned three-hundred of Lexa's warriors alive.

She put a knife through Finn's heart. All for the good of the alliance.

But Lexa's eyes were big and green. The colour of the ground where there was grass first beneath Clarke's feet. They were enchanting and they stared at her with expectation. With patience. With a desire to teach her, advise her and with something else altogether that, Clarke didn't want to consider.

Because it was Lexa's fault. All of it.

And that made Clarke sit a little easier within her own skin. When her blood boiled and her heart beat uncontrollably against her ribs. When she was disgusted with her actions, horrified by her choices and her mind swam with chaos it was her go to place. Somewhere to distract her anger so she would point it with venom at those calming green eyes. Those soft lips and gentle hands because anyone else she could possibly blame was dead.

In her quieter moments though, she could house the blame herself. Try and reason with it. Justify it, although it was difficult to do alone and almost every time she would fail. That's when Lexa helped, when Clarke would watch in her mind as the Commander turned her back and walked away. If nothing else, it usually helped Clarke get at least a few hours sleep.

The irony wasn't lost on her, but she chose not to think about it.

The worst part of it, though, was that she understood. Clarke would have done the same thing but that honestly brought her little peace. It didn't erase the image of countless burned bodies from her mind, nor did it quell the pain she felt in her heart at the betrayal itself. It still hurt, it all did. Everything, and she feared it always would. She was certain she wasn't a leader, although Lexa seemed to think so. If she was, was every leader doomed to this type of torture? Would every leader feel like this? As she did? Did Lexa, at the choices she had to make? At the choice she made on the mountain?

Clarke didn't think so.

"Hey, Princess."

Clarke exhaled a pensive breath as the words found her, echoing quietly around the barren cave she was inside. As much as she craved the solitude, as if human interaction would somehow be the end of her in her current state of mind she longed for his words all the same. Looked forward to them, and when they came they warmed her.

She turned to the entrance of the cave, a non-existent smile barely touching her lips. "Hey, Bell."

He smiled in return, not commenting on her withered appearance. The dark circles around her eyes. The way her clothes didn't fit her, not anymore. The way it got worse every time. He dipped his head a little and came further inside the cave, dropping a bag to the floor. He had commented on it all before but it always fell on deaf ears. "This is getting more difficult," is what he chose instead.

Clarke sighed, "I know."

Bellamy looked around the bare interior of Clarke's latest hideout. It wasn't unfamiliar, and it looked the same as any other Clarke had slept in over the last few weeks. Cold and empty. Dark. "We can't use this cave again. It's the third time."

Clarke nodded. All this she knew. "I know." Her voice was quiet.

Bellamy looked at her, then. His eyes raking over her fragile frame although he knew she was anything but. She was almost stone, now, but he didn't care. He exhaled a sharp breath and then moved to where she stood, wrapping his arms tightly around her and holding her close, trying to protect her as much as he could. As much as she would let him.

It took a moment for Clarke to return it. Her eyes closing momentarily as her arms hung loosely at his back. Sometimes she longed for human contact. Sometimes she felt like it would break her. Whenever it came though, whenever Bellamy did hug her she struggled to find the warmth there. She struggled to find the comfort.

Bellamy pulled back and held her at her shoulders. "How have you been?"

Clarke blinked a few times as she tried to find her voice. Not talking for long stretches of time made her voice scratchy and weak. It felt like the words vibrated through her throat. "Fine," she replied, coughing lightly. "How is everyone? My mom?"

Bellamy frowned at the dullness in her eyes. The pasty appearance of her skin. The same questions she always asked. "Alright," he said faintly. "Still looking for you."

Clarke shook her head and pulled out of his grip. "I wish she wouldn't." She walked to the other side of the cave.

"I could tell them-"

"-No," Clarke snapped back, turning to face him. "I don't want them to know we meet."

There was no point in Bellamy arguing, this he knew. They had argued about it many times before, especially when he first stumbled across her. It didn't stop him from asking, though, every time since.

"How's Jasper?"

Bellamy's hands found his hips as he pushed out a heavy breath. He wished she wouldn't do this to herself; he could see the pain in her eyes even from across the dimly lit cave. Her shoulders were slumped with it. The guilt.

"Better," he nodded. His voice low. "Still not talking to Monty."

Clarke felt the disappointment heave through her chest. "It wasn't his fault."

Bellamy squared his chin. "It was necessary-"

Clarke held out her hand, her forehead feeling heavy. "-Lets not, okay?" She went over it enough in her head she didn't need to verbalise it as well.

Bellamy though, had other ideas. He straightened his back and gestured toward the world outside the cave. "Clarke you can't keep circling the woods."

Clarke sighed and turned around again, a hand pushing through her straggled hair.

He knew what she'd be thinking but he pressed on regardless. He needed to make her listen. It was apparent in the strength of his tone, in the worry lines on his face. "You're running out of places to hide and you're driving yourself insane out here, by yourself."

Clarke pushed out the words through clenched teeth, still refusing to look at him. "I spent a year in a metal cell, Bellamy." She closed her eyes. "At least here I have fresh air and room to move."

Bellamy took a few steps closer to her. "And what about the grounders?"

Clarke's hand went out to the side of the cave and she ran her palm softly over the jagged surface, the coolness easing the clamminess of her skin. "What about them?" She asked, angling her head toward him but keeping her gaze on the daylight ahead.

This was something Bellamy was sure about. Something that was pretty obvious, to him. "Well if out people don't find you they might, and then what?"

Clarke really didn't care about it. She sucked in a breath and then turned to him. She appreciated that he cared, but she really was sick with going over this. "Look, its fine at the moment, okay?"

He just glared at her.

"I'll move further out." She gestured with her hand. "The forest is full of places to hide."

"And that's it, huh?" He took another step toward her. "That's not a plan, Clarke."

"I don't need a plan."

She was getting agitated, Bellamy could tell but he didn't care. "Come home with me," he pressed.

She scoffed, at that.

"I'm serious, Clarke."

She felt her skin begin to twitch. "I can't."

He crowded her then, stepped into her personal space. "We can get you through it. I can."

She pushed past him, clipped him with her shoulder and went to the opposite side of the cave. "No." She had to force herself to keep her emotions in check. She felt the anger coming back, the heat crawling outwards through her veins. "I need to do this my way."

Bellamy was frustrated. "This is not a way, Clarke. Your people miss you."

She squeezed her eyes shut, her voice quiet. "They don't."

It was moment before he spoke. He sighed and shook his head, wishing she could just see what he saw. A hero. "You saved them."

Clarke blew out a long, soothing breath. She opened her eyes and looked at him. "So did you." They became steely, then. "Their gratitude is misplaced."

He was losing. He knew he would even before he began trying. His chest collapsed as he pushed out a breath. "That's crap, Clarke."

She took a step closer to him, her shoulders back, her jaw rigid. "You infiltrated the mountain, Bellamy. Raven blew up the generators. Octavia worked and trained and cut down enemies in the hallways." She swallowed, hard. "That was something. I stood around in tents and forged an alliance that meant nothing."

Bellamy shook his head.

Her expression became lifeless, a lump forming in her throat she couldn't hope to remove. "All I did was massacre people. Even the innocent."

He pushed the words out even though he knew they wouldn't achieve anything. She was set on this, and no matter what he said she wouldn't be swayed. "It wasn't just your decision."

The hardness in her eyes faded, a little. "I can't go back, Bell." She sighed. "Not yet."

His head dropped forwards as his hands once again found his hips, the last two words making Clarke think of Lexa, much to her distress. She felt her blood start to sizzle again. She hated this anger, but she had no idea how to stop it.

"You achieved great things, Clarke." He said quietly, to remind her. He wouldn't give up. Not on her. "The alliance was a good thing."

Clarke grinned sardonically, at that. Her head tipping towards the ceiling.

"We wouldn't have got near the mountain without it."

Clarke saw the bodies again. The blood. The decision she perhaps wouldn't have to have made if she hadn't left her. Hadn't withdrawn her army. Hadn't walked away. The anger seethed inside her. "She betrayed me!" and this time her voice was full of rage.

Bellamy felt it across the distance between them. Clarke was wrought and it made him nervous. He eyed her curiously. Worriedly. "Are you going for revenge?"

Her eyes flashed, her chest heaving with pent up aggression. It made her think, though, and she calmed her tone. "Is the council?"

Bellamy took a step back as he licked his lips. "No," he said after a long moment. "Marcus and I don't think it's the way to go."

Clarke nodded and let the words sink in. "And my mother?"

Bellamy tilted his head, a little. "She's concerned now there's no alliance. She doesn't know what Lexa might do but," he took a breath. "She's far too concerned about you right now to worry about that."

Clarke nodded, biting on her lower lip. "Good."

Bellamy regarded her as he watched her think. It worried him more. "So are you? Because you can't do it alone."

His words pulled her out of it, her mind now made up. She flicked her eyes to him. "Stop trying to protect me."

Bellamy stepped in front of the entrance to the cave anticipating what she might do. "I miss our leader," he said rather desperately. "We all do, and we all know that..." he trailed off, not sure if he should say it.

It made her pause. She squinted her eyes. "You all know what?"

Bellamy battled with himself. He didn't want to say it but he had to. "If the grounders do initiate contact."

Clarke snorted. She peeled her gaze from him and went to the bag he dropped to the floor when he first got there. "I won't be there to deal with it?"

Bellamy exhaled, loudly. He knew this wasn't the way to approach it, but he sensed she was about to leave and it was important. Important to the survival of their people. "The Commander would want to deal with you."

Clarke picked up the bag. "I wouldn't be so sure of what the Commander wants." She said it so quietly she wasn't sure if Bellamy heard. It wasn't meant for him, anyway. She shouldered the bag and turned from the wall. "Is this you talking, or Kane?"

Bellamy sighed. "He has a point."

She took a few steps toward him, and the exit. "I don't hold anymore sway over the Commander than anyone else. I'm not sure if I ever did."

His body language became more forceful. "We need you, Clarke. Come home."

She shook her head. "I'm not the leader anymore. Stop asking me to be."

He held a palm up to her, floating it in the space between them. "I know you want to punish yourself, but this isn't the way." His voice was sincere, his eyes full of compassion.

Clarke stepped around him. "I know," she whispered, and she actually meant it. She knew she was losing herself. Knew she needed to find some way back although she was certain, the person she was before she set foot on the ground was gone.

Bellamy turned as Clarke walked past him. Watched as she stepped out into the sun. "Let me know where you'll be?" he asked hopefully. "Same spot?" There was a place Clarke left him her new location. A code they'd invented so no one else would know what it meant.

She turned back to him as he leaned in the entrance to the cave, her eyes squinting now due to the afternoon sun. "No. I've seen someone looking around there. It's not safe."

Bellamy frowned. "Who?"

"I don't know," she dismissed it. She was good at observing. She liked it. She knew the Sky people's guard rotations. How far they patrolled. Lexa's scouts were a little more unpredictable. She knew they were watching her people, just as she knew her people were watching them. A patient game of cat and mouse. She shook her head. "A grounder. Different face paint though, heavier armour."

Bellamy became very interested. "Different how?"

Clarke shrugged. There were many things she had witnessed in the forest. Many different grounders as she assumed they were meeting with Lexa about various things. She watched as much as she could before she always slipped away. "Triangles?" she commented. "I'm not sure." It's not like she ever got much of a look at their faces. She pondered for a moment. "Maybe it's best we don't meet for a while. You're right, it's getting too dangerous."

The panic flickered through Bellamy's eyes. He could see he was losing her. "Clarke."

Her tone became defiant. "I'm putting you in a compromising position. Lying to the council."

He was nervous. He had no idea what she was planning. He cocked his head. "What are you going to do?"

She shook her head and turned to look into the density of the forest. "Don't worry about me," she murmured.

He stepped behind her, his posture deflated. Half of him wanted to just pick her up and take her home, knock her out if necessary. He cared too much about her to let her do something stupid. To let her wander off into the unknown but at the same time, he respected her too much not to let her. She was the stronger of the two of them, he knew, and he supposed that's why she bore it as much as she did. More than he did. "Too late."

She looked at him, then. Looked into his worried eyes and she gave him a small smile. She touched his arm. "I'm sorry. Look after them."

He knew this was it. "How will I find you?"

"You won't."

Clarke knew she was walking heavy footed. She didn't care. She also knew she was being followed. She didn't care about that either. She was in plain sight, not using the trees for cover, not really caring what might happen to her, although she figured she was pretty safe. Sort of. But then if death came to her, so be it. She was certain she hadn't quite thought this through properly. Weighed up all the consequences of what might happen but she was lost. So utterly and completely lost and just so, so tired of it.

She was tired of the isolation and so much silence her thoughts battled with each other inside her otherwise empty mind. She wasn't sure how much longer she could handle the torment. Bellamy was right. Walking the edge of the forest didn't help. Taking her anger out on the beasts she killed for food didn't help either. She had even tried going back home. Back to camp Jaha. She had stared at the electric fence for two nights, watching her people. But then she left. They reminded her, like she knew they would.

Clarke heard the rustling of the trees all around her, the late afternoon sun setting now and the air considerably crisper. Colder. She knew where she was. She reached into the bag that hung from her shoulder and drew her gun, her eyes alert to the twitching of the forest at her sides.

She took another step.

"Halt! Drop your weapon!"

Clarke stopped moving, the gruff voice echoing out around her. She tried to pinpoint its location but couldn't quite determine it. She heard people moving around her, the looming darkness making it hard to see. The grounders were light on their feet. Fast, and excellent marksmen. She knew they were trying to scare her. The only thing she had going for herself was her gun.

Clarke tried to take a calming breath but it didn't work. She felt her hands tremble but she stood her ground and after a few moments, she took another step forward.

An arrow quickly impacted the earth just in front of her foot and she felt her heart jump to her throat, the anxiety rushing through every inch of her. It tingled in her fingers, pulsated in her toes, throbbed at the side of her neck. She licked her lips and this time didn't move.

"Drop your weapon!"

Clarke swallowed. It was too late to get out of this now. She pushed out a breath and raised her weapon, slowly.

A loud rustling came from her right so she turned sharply, aiming her gun roughly at the grounders chest. He emerged from a shadow, his sword in his hand to his side. He didn't appear aggressive however he was still imposing. He was tall, wore a mask over the lower half of his face but his eyes were exposed, covered in a streak of black. He was bulky, his shoulders broad, his head shaved. Clarke didn't recognise him but that didn't particularly surprise her.

He took a few more steps but still stopped a good distance away, though. "Clarke kom Skaikru," he said slowly. Calmly. He wasn't threatening and his eyes took in her appearance. The posture, the strength of her stare. This was the leader who brought down the mountain. Their ninety-seven year old enemy. This girl with only a few others. He knew what he needed to do. He had his orders if anyone stepped within his boarders with any kind of weapon, even if it was the leader of the Skaikru. "Put down your weapon."

Clarke said nothing. Just stared evenly at him, her expression as blank as possible. Her shoulders were back and she puffed out her chest, the pain in her eyes evident and it projected across the distance between them. All around her. The grounder thought her to be unpredictable, unlike what he had seen of the leader before the mountain.

He took another step forward and lowered his voice. "Do not threaten us. You will be captured."

Clarke remained silent.

He lowered his voice even further, wary of the spears he knew that were pointed at Clarke's chest. "You will be treated as hostile."

Again Clarke was silent. She was aware of the danger around her. The grounders hidden in the woods. She knew very well if she made any sharp movement she would be dead. Gradually, though, her gun dipped but only slightly. The gaze in her eyes still fierce but she wasn't about to fire. That wasn't her intention.

Clarke very slowly licked her lips and tried to weigh up the grounder in front of her. It wasn't their style to usually talk a threat down. Had they been waiting for her? Were they prepared for her to do something like this? She released the breath she'd been holding and thought better of it. They were obviously prepared for some kind of attack, Lexa was too smart not to be. That was of course, if the Sky people had managed to survive the mountain. Obviously the Commander knew about that too. Honestly Clarke didn't know what to think but she felt the sweat crawling up her neck regardless, her fingers that hadn't stopped shaking. Her heart beating furiously in her chest. It was one thing to think about wasting away in the forest, disintegrating into nothingness but it was another thing entirely to have death staring at you from several feet.

The grounder eyed her carefully, confused at the situation. To start with he had expected reinforcements to back her up, he knew though from the positions of their men that there wasn't. Not another Sky person anywhere close. She was alone, and that was dangerous in this forest. A thought went to why else she could be here, if not in search of revenge but it wasn't up to him to think. It was up to him to follow orders and he was giving her more chance than Indra would. "Are you a threat to us?"

Clarke blinked repeatedly, extremely anxious at the stare off that seemed to be lasting forever. She expected to be ambushed, pushed to the ground. Tied up. She didn't have an answer for him, and if she did she still wouldn't have revealed it. She heard more rustling behind her, light steps being taken in the thick grass. Her eyes moved to the side but her head remained forward. She swallowed again as she tried to work out how many. Four maybe? Five? A lot just for her, she thought.

The grounder spoke again. "Are you a threat to the Commander?"

She looked back at him and for a moment she thought maybe he was being compassionate, but she quickly realised how ridiculous that was. She was the enemy, after all. Their Commander had made sure of that. All of a sudden he was closer to her and he stared at her intently, judging her maybe. Deciding.

Still Clarke was silent.

He took a step back. "Take her."

Clarke woke up in a cell. Her head hurt and she could feel cold metal around her wrists. She could hear voices across from her, speaking in Trigedasleng but even if she could understand it, it was muffled anyway. She was lying on her side on the ground, slightly balled up with her forearms up in front of her face. She didn't move, trying to get a sense of what was going on, not that she particularly cared. Whatever was coming she deserved. It would be good for her, she thought. She needed punishment. Retribution, and she didn't know any better place for it than this.

"Where are her weapons?" Indra commanded from the grounder next to her, the tone of her voice rigid. Clarke couldn't understand the words but her tone spoke volumes. Indra held Clarke's bag open in front of her, the contents of which being a single gun and a few meagre supplies. Indra looked at her warrior as if she couldn't believe it.

"That is the only one, General," the grounder replied. Clarke knew it was the same grounder who confronted her in the woods. The gravelly undertone in his voice unmistakable.

Indra raised a brow. "Only one?"

"Yes, General."

Indra nodded, closed the bag and dropped it to the floor. Clarke then heard footsteps approaching her and so she turned over and scooted back until she found a wall to sit against. She balled her hands into fists and held her arms tight to her chest.

Indra stopped as soon as Clarke moved and then looked down at her when she was against the wall. She wore her armour proudly, her hands fixed on her weapons ready to draw them at any second. Her shoulders were back and her jaw line rigid and it made Clarke wonder if the grounders were born that way. Proud and solid and ready to fight. Perhaps it was genetic.

"Why are you here?" Indra directed at Clarke, her English words as clipped as her native ones.

Clarke just looked at her, vulnerable in her surroundings. Exposed in her restraints. She wondered if she looked as scared as she felt, and she also wondered if it was obvious that she didn't care. Clarke was used to scared. She had been scared ever since that spear hit Jasper in the chest. Honestly she just wanted to sleep and if she had to be knocked out for that, then so be it. She would welcome it.

Indra sucked in a breath and spoke through her teeth, leaning forward a little to stare her captive straight in the eye. "You will not get near the Commander if revenge is what you seek."

Clarke raised her eyebrows in a show of mock defiance. She knew it. Clarke didn't think it was anything less than the Commander deserved, however. At least today she didn't think so.

The silence was clearly aggravating the General. Her volume went up several notches and she also took a step closer, her fist tightening around her dagger. "You may have defeated the mountain," she hissed, her words condescending, "but you still burned three-hundred of our warriors alive. Even if you and your people had perished on the mountain the number wouldn't even compare." The last part she practically spat and Clarke could easily see the fury levelled deep within her eyes. "Some may think you mighty; the courageous Commander from the Sky but you will always be the murderer of my people," she stepped closer still and her voice took on a deathly chill. "And until my last breath I will seek revenge."

Clarke didn't move. She just sat against the wall and prepared herself for what was coming. Indra was terrifying. Harsh, relentless and she had no idea how Octavia handled training under her. The look in the General's eyes was enough to make grown men run and hide. Clarke felt a chill and it wasn't from the cold. In fact she was sweating and she had to take slow, deep breaths so she wouldn't start to panic. No one was coming to save her. This is what she wanted. This is what she walked gladly into. If there was one thing Clarke was good at it was focusing her mind on one thing and seeing it through. It was her job since the drop ship landed. Since she first put her foot on the ground.

Indra continued to glare at her before she turned back to her warrior and Clarke was able to relax her expression. She swallowed heavily and licked her lips. What Indra had said was right. She did give the order to burn their warriors, it didn't matter how much of a, 'them or us,' situation it was. She killed them, and she deserved punishment. It was the same as in the mountain; the last resort to save her people. So there may not have been any children but they were still people with families, with children of their own. Just because most of the bodies had been vaporised and she didn't physically have to step over them didn't make it any less horrific. She executed them all the same. Indra was right to seek justice.

Indra approached her warrior. "Inform the Commander of our latest prize." She leaned down and picked up Clarke's bag. "Give her this. I'm sure she will be very interested to find who is in our cells."

"Yes, General," the grounder responded, taking the bag from Indra and with a final look toward Clarke, he turned and exited through a passage at the end of the cell.

After a moment Indra stalked back over to her, a tight smile on her face shining with distaste. She exhaled like she found something amusing and paced a little in front of Clarke's feet. She tilted her head and looked at Clarke smugly. "Do you feel so mighty now, Clarke kom Skaikru?"

Clarke just eyed her warily.

"No longer under the Commander's protection."

Clarke scoffed and it made Indra's eyes flash. She knew exactly what the Commander's protection was worth and it screamed from her tired, weary, double-crossed eyes.

Indra grinned then, and Clarke felt her blood burn. "Does that make you angry, Sky Princess?"

Clarke knew Indra was trying to provoke a reaction but she wasn't about to give her the satisfaction. As much as she felt like it in that instance. She was too tired anyway, her legs were weak and feet ached now she was slumped in a corner. Her will worn down by her own demons and they were far scarier than Indra could ever be.

"Your silence won't help you," Indra continued as she straightened her shoulders and walked back over to the far wall. "You came to us with your weapon drawn. Hostile." When she got to the wall she turned around, her voice raising a little. "The Commander will treat you as such. Don't think your pretty eyes will save you."

Clarke looked away then, tired of the conversation. She leaned her head against the wall and jumped when she heard Indra shout something toward the exit in Trigedasleng. Clarke looked around the cell quickly and within moments two bulky grounders walked in, Indra instructing them to do something as far as she could tell and then they were heading for her.

Clarke clenched her fists tighter and drew her knees up closer to her chest, bracing herself for a beating but the men simply heaved her up and brought her forward away from the wall. The chains were long so they placed her almost central in the cell, standing forwards facing Indra and with one grounder on either side of her. They stood to attention, their faces hidden by masks and each held a spear out in front of them, in the hand that was furthest away from Clarke.

Clarke cast her eyes over each of them before Indra caught her attention by taking a few steps closer to her. This time her expression was neutral, or as neutral as Indra could make it. "Clarke kom Skaikru," she started again. "Why are you here?"

Indra's voice was loud and booming, and it made Clarke's ears hurt. She squinted her eyes and she wished someone would just hit her already. She rolled her eyes and remained silent.

"Do you seek revenge on the Commander?"

Clarke was getting sick of the same questions. She thought about saying yes, just as much as she thought about saying no. Yes would surely get her killed. No would just cause further confusion. Clarke wanted them unsure. She wanted Lexa to have no idea what was coming. It seemed throughout their whole alliance Lexa was the one who knew what to do. She made the decisions and she could make them just like that, without consequence. This would keep her guessing and who knows. Maybe in the end she would slit Lexa's throat.

Indra took another step forward and looked Clarke straight in the eyes. She grinned, then, and it was just as odd as the first time. "So be it," she whispered and then she said something else to her guards before turning abruptly and leaving.

Clarke's eyes widened as she had no idea what was going on. She was certain Indra would hit her, at least once or something. It was definitely something she wanted to do, Clarke could see it in her eyes. Maybe she was coming back. Perhaps she was just fetching some kind of torture device. Clarke swallowed at the thought.

She glanced to either side of her as much as she could without making it too obvious. Her guards just stared ahead, stoic and rigid. That same genetic grounder look. Lexa did stoic and rigid very well.

Clarke was suddenly very aware of how much her back hurt, as well as her legs and feet. It was all she could do to stop herself from fidgeting from side to side. She wished Indra would hurry back. She wished one of her guards would whack her with their spear. Anything. This reminded her of Lincoln, and how Bellamy tied him up in the drop ship. This was similar, she thought, and she was honestly losing track of the differences between their people.

She felt herself sway a little as she stepped forward, the grounder to her right reaching out and grabbing her shoulder and hauling her back in place. It shook her alert, if anything and she turned her head to him, but he continued to stare forwards. She was expecting him to say something but he didn't and so she turned to look at the other one who also continued to stare straight ahead. She thought on it, for a moment and she considered the fact that maybe she wasn't going to get a beating after all.

Clarke nodded to herself and bit on her bottom lip. When she spoke her words were scratchy. Her throat exceptionally dry. It pretty much came out as a whisper. "How long have I got to stand here?"

The grounders didn't move and so Clarke took in a heavy breath. It was going to be a long night.

Clarke was hallucinating, she was certain. Although she wasn't sure if she was alive. She was beyond exhausted, beyond weak. She had no idea if it was day or night, of how many hours she had been kept standing in this place. She was ready to break. Collapse to the floor if only the grounders would let her. She would occasionally get a longer few seconds than normal. Her legs would wobble, she would shuffle about where she stood and she would feel herself drop asleep until her knees impacted the stone floor. She would fall forward and this would rouse her before one of her guards would haul her up again. He would keep his hand firmly planted on her shoulder until she regained her footing and her knees locked back into place and then she would start to sway all over again. She didn't know if she cried. Didn't know if she begged. All she knew is that she swore to herself she wouldn't in the beginning but, it was long since the beginning now. Or at least that was how it seemed.

She received a massive jolt to her ribs that wrenched her out of her latest haze. She opened her eyes and tried to focus but it was difficult. There was someone in front of her, standing against the far wall of the cell. Indra, maybe? Clarke didn't know. She prayed she was here to floor her. She blinked a few times but it didn't help and she could feel herself stumbling all over the place.

Clarke heard a voice, then. One she was familiar with and then someone else appeared and hurried over to her, thrusting something under her nose that Clarke physically leapt away from, the grounder to her left grabbing her shoulder to keep her still. Clarke brought her fists to her nose as she scrunched her whole face up, a burning sensation rushing up to her brain and down her throat. After a moment she shook her head a little vigorously, her eyes blinking open as wide as they could go.

That's when she saw her. The Commander. A little blurry but there all the same.

It took her a few minutes but Clarke finally managed to control her reaction to whatever the hell that was. She was alert, however tired and broken down she was. It was a weird feeling but all she could do was scoff at Lexa, standing there as stoic as always. Her expression as neutral as always. Her eyes calm and her jaw square.

Clarke looked to the ceiling and rolled her eyes. She wondered how she must look to the Commander now. If she felt like kissing her now. She shook her head and then looked down at the ground. She felt a surge of pain shoot up her neck and she winced at it, which only reminded her of the pain in her legs and feet and the utter, excruciating burning of her knees. She had no idea how many times she had fallen on them but there was some blood staining the stone in front of her.

Lexa gave an order for the grounder who scurried in with Clarke's vial of wakeup dust to leave them, or at least that's what Clarke assumed as the girl quickly ran out of there.

Lexa looked at her, then. Her eyes blacked out with war paint and every bit as piercing as she remembered. Her clothes the very same as when Clarke last saw her. Everything the same except the blood stains on her face. They were gone. "I expected an army, Clarke," she said. "And more of your exploding weapons."

Clarke fixed her eyes on her. She couldn't help it. Lexa was so formidable, so imposing. So devout and noble and devious and manipulating and well, beautiful. Clarke forced her eyes shut before they opened again just as quickly. Her mind was so cloudy she couldn't think straight. She couldn't keep one thought going long enough before another took over. Her mind buzzed and roared at the same time. The torture doing its job wondrously.

Lexa linked her hands behind her back and stepped forward. She tilted her head and regarded her prisoner slowly, taking in every detail on display before her. "Are you here to slit my throat, Clarke of the Sky People?"

Clarke licked her lips. She found if she focused on Lexa's words, the buzzing went away a little but she still wasn't going to answer, even if that was what she wanted to do. Even if it would be nice to see the reaction in the Commander's eyes to hear that Clarke wanted to kill her in her own bed. Whilst she slept. Clarke wondered if Lexa would let herself react to that. If she would have any reaction to begin with.

Lexa squared her jaw again when no answer was forthcoming. She sighed, nonchalantly. "You are a threat if you do not inform me otherwise."

Clarke twitched her neck. She was a threat even if she told her she wasn't. Surely? She pulled her lips into a tight smile.

The Commander looked away from her then, taking a few steps to her left before coming back to the centre of the cell. "Are you here to gather secrets, as my Generals suggest?"

Again, nothing.

"Are you here to distract me from an army marching at my gates?" She stared at Clarke, her brow slightly raised and Clarke stared back.

Lexa's voice gave nothing away, as it generally didn't. She was so hard to read when she chose to be that way, and Clarke was certain that would be the case even if her brain wasn't thudding inside her skull.

Lexa linked her hands behind her back once more. "Your intentions are unclear, Clarke." Her voice was flat. No feeling in there at all. "Tell me what they are or this will continue."

Her eyes were so different, Clarke considered, as her forehead started to furrow. From how they once looked at her to how they did so now. Clarke found it surreal, as how in those moments they conveyed so much, were so open and so soft compared to how closed and cold they were now. Clarke felt so bitter, so hurt, she just didn't know what to do with it.

Lexa sighed, loudly. "This grows tiresome." She turned around and dipped her head at the wall before she turned back again, her eyes unflinching as she took the journey over to her prisoner once more. She breathed out calmly through her nose and kept her shoulders back, her expression neutral.

The guards had already moved away a few feet but were still close enough to stop any threat Clarke might be in case she was able to summon any energy from somewhere. Clarke was honestly ready to drop to her knees however there was no way she would in front of the Commander.

Lexa broke eye contact and flicked her gaze to every corner of Clarke's face, the silence filling the cell only getting louder under such scrutiny. It confused Clarke, made her feel uncomfortable but she had ceased presuming anything of the Commander since what happened on the mountain. She watched as Lexa swallowed and then she leaned into Clarke's ear, an action that surprised her and when she spoke, it made Clarke flinch.

"Please, Clarke," Lexa whispered. "So I can stop this."

Lexa pulled back but didn't move away and for a moment, for just a split second Clarke thought she saw pleading. She thought she saw compassion, something earnest and heartfelt in the Commander's eyes but just as quickly as she thought she saw it, it was gone. Clarke's mind couldn't make sense of it but then again, she was probably hallucinating the whole thing anyway.

After a moment or so of silence Lexa took a few steps back. "As you wish," she said, with a slight tilt of her jaw. She nodded at the guards who stood back in their earlier positions. "I hope you change your mind, Clarke."

And then she was gone.

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