Chapter Text
The darkness engulfed Clarke, suffocating her. The trees, seemingly translucent swirled around in the depths that were her mind, nothing seemed to be solid. She could not escape from this nightmare that she found herself in, lost and alone on the ground. Screams echoed in the hollows of the forest, taunting her making her relive the terrors of the mountain. She tried to escape the traps that would unwittingly befall her, but her feet sank into the earth, freezing her to the spot.
Sunlight came creeping in through the canopy, piercing through the shadows, but illuminating the figures now taking shape and form in front of Clarke’s terrified eyes. The light blinded her, as if she were caught in the beams of the sun itself. Escape was impossible, she had to face the terror of her demons, oh god how they screamed.
Clarke screamed out at the people in front of her, “You people are mistaken if you think I’m celebrating anything I’ve become. I am a monster, the demons inside me are tormenting me enough, please leave me alone.” She cried floods of tears as she collapsed to the ground, her head in her hands, “Please…” she whispered brokenly, “What do I have to do to stop you punishing me?”
The silhouettes and faces of the mountain rushed forward, persecuting her; they haunted her. Out of the light, an ethereal body emerged, his hair flopping gently around his temples, his eyes hard and unmoving, his cheeks stained with blood.
“Jasper… please, I had no choice,” she moaned into the wind.
Jasper glared at her sinisterly, smiling openly at the young woman, creating an atmosphere of tension and unease. His distorted voice boomed through the spaces around her, “You do not deserve forgiveness; you deserve to be punished for the lives you have taken.”
Maya appeared behind him and effortlessly floated over the uneven ground of blood and bones towards Clarke. Her face was hollow, almost skeletal as she cried rivers of blood, her bony arm fluently rising as it pointed Clarke straight in the face. There was nowhere to hide, nowhere to run. All Clarke could do was sit silently, her eyes forced wide in terror, and watch the hell transpire.
Evil isn’t born, it is made,” Maya’s sickly sweet voice penetrating Clarke’s thoughts, “And you,” she continued, closing in to the blonde weeping on the ground, “Are. Evil.” Maya shouted, the force ricocheting through Clarke, knocking her back against a tree of bones.
“I am death,” Clarke uttered into the air, the words taken with the wind, swirling round her head as a visual aid to her own immorality. Pain seared through her body as she became rigid, her body rising so she was vertical but two feet above the ground beneath her.
The next figure to emerge from the heavens, as Clarke so aptly named the ray of white light penetrating the canopy, was another male. Jasper and Maya remained however, fading slightly into the background as the familiar face of Jake Griffin appeared out of the ether.
“Dad?” Clarke cried softly, the hope stirred in the depths of her heart, “Please, I tried, I did what I had to I…” She silences herself at the lift of his hand.
He shakes his head sadly, his eyes full of disappointment and regret, breaking Clarke in two. He sighs deeply as he strides over to her rigid body. His hands flowing through the air around her face, stroking the air as if he can’t bear to touch her face, as if everything she is disgusts him to the core.
Clarke cries a heart-wrenching cry, “Dad, I tried, I tried to be the good guy… but I’m a monster.”
Jake steps back, his eyes now dark with loathing, skin on fire, his flesh vividly crawling. “You are not to join me, Clarke.” He articulates, his voice vibrating through the clearing, “You don’t deserve to be in the light, Clarke.”
His once blue eyes were now black as coal with glints of red. Clarke could almost not bear to meet his gaze. There was a loud clap of thunder behind him, and with it into the clearing through a bolt of lightning, appeared Wells. His neck had a gaping wound and blood was trickling down his shoulders like a fountain. His left hand was missing two fingers.
“You told me, Clarke.” Wells’ voice boomed out from behind Jake, “You should not have done that.”
Jake’s lip curled upward into a snarl, “You, Clarke,” He spat, “You got me floated.”
Clarke immediately felt defensive, she knew in her heart that this was not true but she could not help but argue it, she could not have her dad hating her for this. “Dad, it was Mom, you know that…”
Jake put up his hand to silence her and shook his head decisively, “No. Abby did what had to be done, Clarke. But you,” he took a deep breath, pausing, “You told on me. I told you to keep it to yourself to keep you safe and now look.”
He gestures to the ray of whiteness piercing the clearing and several individuals emerge, emulating the faces of death and love; the dead suffocating her and the love overwhelming her. Anya appeared, caked in blood and dirt, riddled with bullet holes, next to her came her mother, deep lacerations scarring her once beautiful body, her hair stained red with blood. No, this was not the Abby Clarke had known, merely an apparition, a demon sent to taunt her.
Gustus followed closely behind Abby, his body almost unrecognisable from the 1000 cuts he had endured at his trial. He was hand in hand with the scarred and boil-covered body of a young boy, his eyes a deep red but full of fear and sadness, taken too soon from the Mountain. In the other boy’s hand, clasped tightly was the hand of the young boy Finn had shot in cold blood in TonDC, the blood still pouring from his blue lips.
Behind him, a single solitary figure marched over the blood stained ground, his charred, blackened flesh hanging of his skeletal form, clearly a warrior from the dropship that she had murdered in fire and flame. Behind him still followed her three closest friends of the surviving 100, Octavia lined with Bellamy to her left, and Raven to her right. All three were pale and scarred with lacerations and abrasions, their eyes void of emotion, smiling ominously as they all moved into a semi-circle around Jake Griffin.
“After everything you’ve done, do you even deserve to survive, Clarke?” Jake sneered.
“If death has no cost, then life has no worth.” The circle of victims echoed.
Clarke starts to shake, her walls crumbling down around her. All that’s left of her now is a shell of a girl that once loved, once lived in hope. The scaffolding of her bones is all that remains. In place of her once warm soul is a deep chasm of darkness, of remains, brick and stone; and wind-swept ashes from a fire long dead.
Closing her eyes she breathes deeply, praying that they take her soon. When hope has almost completely vanished, she hears the piercing screams of the apparitions as they slowly clash with a metal sounding object. Clarke gingerly opens her eyes, the sight befalling her amazes and astounds her so much that she has to rub her eyes to see.
Commander Lexa, her Lexa is fighting the hordes of demons, destroying them so she can save Clarke. But Clarke knows what no one else can, she cannot be saved from her demons, they will return.
Lexa grabs hold of Clarke just as her knees buckle and her feet give way beneath her. The strong brunette warrior lowers Clarke down as she herself gently sinks to the ground. Holding the blonde close to her she softly strokes her hair.
“You were born to fight, Clarke. You were born for this, same as me.” Lexa said simply, her eyes blazing with warmth, the edges of her mouth curved up into a small smile.
“Define your own success, Clarke,” Lexa whispered into the blonde’s ear, her warm breath soothing the girl as she brought her hand up to Clarke’s face, “Don’t compare yourself with others, you are a leader, Clarke.”
Lexa brushed her soft lips against Clarke’s, sighing as she gently kissed her. Pulling back Lexa sighed again, “Look at me, Clarke.”
Clarke opened her ocean blue eyes, the fear that resided in them ever present as she looked up at Lexa. The brunette stood tall in front of her, her braided curls softly floating round her face as she smiled softly at Clarke. The love that Clarke saw in the forest green eyes spoke volumes.
“Clarke, sometimes suffering is just suffering. It doesn’t make you stronger, it doesn’t build character; it just hurts.” Lexa’s smiled tenderly, her voice now melodic and soothing, “Ai hod yu in, Klark.”
The spirit of Lexa before her started to catch fire. Her arms reached out for Clarke trying desperately to stay with her, to love her completely. “Klark…” Lexa whispered sullenly, a solitary tear burned down her cheek, setting fire to her skin.
The once beautiful commander now charred, her flesh peeling from her bones and her blood evaporating into nothingness. Her eyes now pained and etched in fear searched for Clarke’s own terror stricken gaze. She screamed a terrifying blood-curling scream as her flesh sank to the floor, her eyes imploding as the air whistled through her now empty bones.
Clarke screamed, the world fading to black, the spirits swarming back into her troubled soul as she awoke dripping in sweat, soaking the furs surrounding her. The warm body next to her providing some comfort, the arm of which draped softly over her abdomen. Clarke took a deep breath as her gaze drifted to the mess of curly brown hair on the pillow next to her, almost obscuring the peaceful face beneath.
Lexa’s breathing was even as she remained in slumber, still exhausted from the previous day’s activities. Clarke smiled gently at the sight, knowing that just seeing Lexa, feeling her presence was enough to calm her soul. Make her more relaxed from the night’s flashbacks.
The dim orange light radiated warmth through the balcony window, signifying to Clarke that morning was not far behind. She breathed deep and slowly sat up, taking care to not disturb Lexa. But she let out a soft laugh as the girl next to her wriggled closer in response to the movement, gripping Clarke’s abdomen tighter.
Three months in the woods of Trigedakru territory had taken their toll on the blonde, wrecked her already shattered soul and hardened her heart. Somehow Clarke had found her way to Polis, the memories flooded her visual cortex and she let them play, not hesitating to watch her life. Wondering how shed managed to survive was a common thought that plagued her mind.
There was a point that Clarke had thought that she would never forgive Lexa, never let her back into her heart. But after she had found her way into the commander’s tower in Polis, breaking in and attacking Lexa with her dagger; only then did she realise the love she had felt for the woman had never truly left her soul.
She had stood in the commander’s private quarters, a dagger to her throat but had no desire to go through with the evil that had plagued her mind for months. She was frozen in place, unable to continue her assault on the woman who had ripped her heart out; breathing steadily, unable to let go.
“I never meant to turn you into this,” Lexa had breathed, tears glistening in her eyes, her heart clearly breaking at the sight of Clarke befalling her. It had been enough to make Clarke let the knife clatter to the floor at their feet, no longer in her thoughts. She had slowly moved her head forward and gently kissed the vulnerable woman before her.
All thoughts of violence and betrayal had slipped from her mind for a moment, she lived and loved all things Lexa and softly kissed her warm wet lips, cheeks damp from tears. Time had stood still at that moment for Clarke, all her walls has crumbled into ash, her heart bare for Lexa.
Breaking the kiss, she had shakily pulled back, looking into Lexa’s heartbroken, love-filled gaze, she spoke; her tears were interfering with her once clear voice making her tremble, “I kept trying to teach myself not to love you. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do. But I couldn’t do it, I failed, Lexa. I still love you.”
Lexa nodded curtly, all semblance of the commander still evident in her body language. But her eyes betrayed her, releasing waves of vulnerability and feelings that was just oh so Lexa.
Clarke had taken a deep breath, still reeling from the betrayal on her heart that Lexa had orchestrated, “Lexa…” She whispered, “I know what I’m capable of. I’m a soldier now; I’m someone to fear not hunt. I never asked for that, I never wanted to be feared, only loved and accepted.”
Lexa silently took hold of Clarke’s waist and pulled her into a soft embrace, “The real war rages in your heart, Clarke,” She murmured quietly into the blonde’s ear before she broke the contact. Clarke gulped, knowing that Lexa would always hold her heart, no matter how broken she was.
Zoning back to the present, Clarke stretched her arms to the ceiling, moaning in relief as her muscles released their tension. She gently scooted out from underneath Lexa’s tight embrace, putting a pile of furs in her place so as not to wake the sleeping brunette. Sleep was the only time Lexa truly seemed at peace and Clarke was not one to disturb that for her.
She tiptoed past the big armchair that held their clothes from the night before and padded across the cold wooden floor over to their balcony where the sun was slowly rising in earnest. She sighed as she leaned over the carved railings and stared out over the beauty that was Polis in the morning.
The sun illuminated the stone houses and dirt roads, people already awaking and preparing for the day of business ahead. Clarke knew, as her blue eyes scanned the horizon that, Lexa would soon be rising, ready for the days meetings and war councils to discuss the nuclear threat looming over them from Jaha and A.L.I.E.
Her mind played over the past intensely, she knew it would play a large part in the meetings later that day. What she’d found and witnessed over the past several months would hold her in good stead with the leaders, one of the only things about her that prevented them from assassinating her. Her knowledge as it were, was her salvation and she was very aware of that fact.
She owed a lot to her commander; Lexa had held people back from hunting her and protected her from certain death in the hands of some of the other nations. It had been a hard battle, one that was not yet over as some of the clan leaders still had reservations of Clarke and her intentions. The Wanheda still sparked fear in the eyes of all who met her, all besides Lexa.
Suddenly Clarke felt a warm body pressed against her back as hands snaked round her waist. “Mmmm, morning, Lexa,” she moaned softly, grateful for the contact as the brunette rested her chin on her shoulder, snuggling in to her cheek.
“Good morning, Clarke,” Lexa whispered her voice still heavy from sleep, “Are you well today?”
Clarke sighed and bowed her head, she could lie but she knew that Lexa would see right through her ruse. Honesty, she surmised would be the best route although she was aware of the concern it would cause her Heda. Taking a deep breath she spoke quietly, her words barely audible to Lexa as they got taken with the wind, “My dreams are tormenting me again, Lexa.”
Lexa pulled away from Clarke and turned the blonde to face her. “Whatever is troubling you, we can face it together, Clarke.”
Swimming blue eyes met determined green as Clarke began to tell Lexa her prophetic-like visions, urged on by Lexa’s intent expressions. To Clarke it was like she was home, Lexa was eternal and in her presence laid the key to Clarke’s peace. The whole world drifted by in silence as the sun rose in the sky, Polis was waiting for them.
Lexa leaned her head against Clarke’s, forehead to forehead as she wrapped her arms back around the blonde’s waist. Clarke sighed happily, content to stay in Lexa’s arms but she knew the day awaited them and would not begin until they were present. She brought her lips up to meet Lexa’s and kissed her gently in the warmth of the sunlight, “Ai hod yu in, Lexa,” she murmured into Lexa’s mouth, vibrating her lips with the words, “We should get moving, a tough day awaits us.”