Chapter Text
Lexa stood in a small bathroom deep inside Mount Weather. The quiet breathing of Mount Weather’s systems filled the air, and if she closed her eyes she could pretend she was back on the Ark, back in orbit. So much had happened in the last few days. Probably more than her mind could process especially given the fact she still had a fogginess within her mind that made it just that little bit harder to recall things that once had been easy.
Jackson had said it would clear, that she was healing faster than expected and she assumed that mostly because of the blood Clarke had given to all those who had been injured. It wasn’t enough to completely heal them, not like she had done with her in her attempt to escape and trick the Mount Weather security detail. But it was enough blood to get her back on the mend faster than natural.
So Lexa wouldn’t complain.
Lexa took in a deep and steadying breath as she looked at herself in the mirror. The woman who looked back seemed older than she remembered herself ever looking. There were shadows under her eyes, or perhaps they were bruises. Her left in particular still seemed more tender, blackened and swollen a fraction. The gunshot that had almost killed her had ripped a tear through the top cartilage of her ear to leave behind a jagged missing chunk. It wasn’t so big that it was immediately noticeable but it was enough that Lexa felt self conscious about the wound. She turned her head to the right as she stared at the wound only to wince at the strain she felt in her neck. Even her hearing in her left ear was damaged. She didn’t know how deaf she was but it was enough to be noticeable.
But she was alive.
That was more than many could ask for so Lexa wouldn’t complain.
She took in a steadying breath before she started peeling off her clothes. Her body protested the movements, the fatigue from the last few days leaving her muscles sore and aching. Eventually she stood, her clothes folded neatly in the corner of the bathroom and she stared at herself in the mirror once more.
She still looked just as she had done not moments before, but Lexa took the time to take in her body. Bruises littered her skin from the days she had spent on the ground. Some were new, others well on the way to healing. But as she looked at herself she realised her ribs didn’t seem so prominent anymore. Nor did her hipbones or even her collarbones. A lifetime on the Ark had left its mark on all those who had called it home. They had always rationed their food, always been careful not to overindulge. Of course there were birthdays, weddings, funerals, special occasions. But they were few and far between and they had never been able to provide for the people in any measurable quantity.
But Lexa thought herself looking healthier, fuller. Stronger than she had once been despite the injuries.
Perhaps that was a sign of things to come, that she would grow, come to call the Earth home, but it wouldn’t be without its pains, its bruises, its scrapes and injuries. But she’d learn to adapt, to overcome, to heal. Or she’d fail and die and then she wouldn’t have to worry about any of that for much longer.
Lexa turned to the shower, it took her just a few moments to find the right heat and then she stepped inside.
The water was hot as it poured against her skin. It stole her breath and prickled against her as she leant her forehead against the cool glass shower screen. It was nice, the contrast in temperature. It was calming. The heat of the water helped chase away the aches in her body and the cold of the glass helped to ease the throbbing she felt in her head.
She let her mind wander to nothing in particular as she began to shower and wash. As the soap lathered against her body she felt as though it was helping to erase the emotions that had burdened her ever since coming to the ground. She didn’t think she knew how to properly process everything that had happened. Truthfully, she’d probably have to talk to a therapist to really get a hold of the things she had done. But she didn’t really think possible.
She hadn’t really let herself think about what exactly it was that she had helped to cause with the destruction of the dam. There was blood on her hands. More than most were ever willing to have. But for some reason Lexa didn’t think it too bad a burden to carry.
It was simple calculus, she thought. Some people needed to suffer for the greater good and maybe it was easy for her to decide who got to suffer when one group of people did what they did against another. But it shouldn’t be as simple as that in her mind. And yet it was.
Just like on the Ark when she needed to decide who would have to sacrifice just a little so that their people could survive.
So perhaps Lexa was ok with the things she had done.
Perhaps she was ok that she had helped end an entire people’s future.
Or perhaps she wasn’t ok with it.
But she could live with it.
Maybe that should have worried her more than it did.
But that, too, she could live with.
There was no other option.
Lexa and Anya sat on a makeshift bench made from a tree trunk felled and cut hastily into shape. It wasn’t quite uncomfortable thought it wasn’t as soft as a couch or a bed. But in that moment it felt right.
The sun was warm against Lexa’s face, the wind was calm against her skin and the trees that whispered in the air seemed just a little kinder than they had days before.
She knew it was simply her imagination and that the lands were no different than they had been before but still, she let herself believe in that moment that things were different.
But they were.
They were and she had been partly responsible for it.
There were no roaming reaper packs. Or at least most had been dealt with in the fighting. There was no more risk of Mount Weather scouting parties stumbling across them and there was no more need to hide, to shy away from prying eyes.
To their back stood the open gates to Mount Weather. Warriors moved in and out as they brought supplies in, took supplies out or removed things they deemed unwanted. She was half surprised that Clarke’s people had already begun to take control of the Mountain, especially given just how violent its defeat had been. But perhaps that was simply what life was on the ground now.
“So,” Anya’s voice cut into Lexa’s thoughts.
She turned her head to the right to look at Anya beside her. Lexa lifted an eyebrow in question.
“What do you think happens now?” Anya asked.
Lexa felt her lip twitch at the corners as if her mouth made to speak before thought even came. But as the seconds passed and as no words answered Lexa realised she didn’t truly know what happened next. Perhaps she hadn’t quite got that far yet.
“I don’t know, Anya,” Lexa answered.
Anya hummed an answer before she sighed and leant back on the bench as she looked up into the sky.
Both friends remained quiet for a long moment. They were content to share in the company. They were content to bask in the sun. And Lexa felt a realisation dawn on her slowly as she let the wind touch her cheek.
“This is the first time we’ve had this, Anya,” Lexa said.
“Had what?” Anya asked her.
Lexa let the corner of her mouth lift into a small smile as she gestured around them.
“The ground. The sun,” she lifted a hand delicately into the space between them. “The air.”
Anya returned her smile with one just as small, just as warm and honest.
“I—” Anya trailed off in thought. “You’re right,” she said. “I don’t know what I should be feeling,” Anya finished.
Lexa felt exactly the same. Perhaps she had built up the ground so much in her mind that nothing would compare. Perhaps she had spent so many days recently just trying to stay alive that having the quiet now felt odd, so unreal that it would take them both days, weeks. Maybe even months to come to terms with.
“It’s not bad,” Anya said sarcastically. “It could be worse.”
Lexa laughed a quiet response before she kicked her legs out in front of her as if she were a child atop a too large chair.
“How’s Octavia? Bellamy?” Lexa asked eventually. She hadn’t seen Bellamy much since waking up from her wounds.
“Both are good,” Anya answered. “I think they’re both taking the time to gather themselves.”
Lexa nodded her head. It didn’t surprise her, the two of them were the only siblings on the Ark.
“I should probably check in with the rest of my team,” Lexa said and it surprised her that she hadn’t thought of them in what seemed like lifetimes.
“I’m sure they’re just happy to be alive,” Anya answered.
“I do feel a bit bad about abandoning them.”
“You got kidnapped. There’s a slight difference.”
“Just a little one,” Lexa laughed.
Anya laughed, too but eventually the laughter settled into quiet once more. Lexa took the time to think, or perhaps not to think but to take in the world around them. She’d have time to decompress. She’d have time to heal, get her head in the right space and maybe come to terms with everything. But for now she thought herself ok.
She was ok.
That was more than most could ask for.
“Have you noticed that they keep looking at you?” Anya said.
“Who?” Lexa looked up and around at the warriors who moved back and forth in the midst of one thing or another.
“All these warriors,” Anya said and she lifted her chin towards a group of them a little ways off who seemed to be clearing the ground of bushes and loose leaf debris.
Lexa hadn’t noticed. But as she continued to look at the group in particular she found herself realising they did seem to glance her way more than she thought normal. She wasn’t sure what it meant. She’d probably have to task them or Clarke but part of her didn’t even think she’d get a straight answer.
Lexa shrugged her shoulders in response.
“I didn’t notice.”
Anya said something that Lexa didn’t really process as they both let the silence settle between them once more. But Lexa took the time to look at those before them. She had heard whispered words of a feast or a party of sorts was to be held and she could already see the beginnings of preparation. She knew this something she’d probably have to attend in some capacity but she was tired. Or more tired than she probably should feel.
She thought whatever injuries the gunshot had given her didn’t help. her mind still thought a little too slowly. But she didn’t think it permanent. Or at least she hoped it wasn’t.
But thinking of injuries and healing made her think of Maya. Lexa made a note to check on her. She knew there wasn’t anything she could do herself but she could at least check on her, make sure she had some company, and if she ever regained consciousness Lexa was sure Maya would need a friendly face.
Perhaps Lexa would even try to help Maya see the beaches she had dreamed of if she was well enough to travel.
But those thoughts, too, those longings for new places, new destinations made Lexa think of futures a little less fraught with danger or violence.
“Once all our people are settled,” Lexa said and she didn’t really know how else to describe what getting their people accepted would entail. “I think I’m going to travel,” she pointed out towards some mountains she could see in the far distance, whose snowcapped peaks spoke of a different world. “Over there is Azgeda,” she knew she butchered the pronunciation.
“Azgeda,” Anya said the word slowly. “Canada?”
Lexa hummed.
“Yeah, I’m assuming so,” she considered asking Ontari but she knew the woman would rather slap her across the face than speak with her more than needed. “Want to come?”
Anya looked at her for a brief moment.
“Sure,” she said.
In response Lexa held out her fist for Anya to bump.
And so Lexa laughed quietly before speaking.
“Anya and Lexa’s big adventure part two.”
Clarke stood quietly amongst the ruins of the command centre. The signs of destruction still littered the room. The walls were chipped and charred from shrapnel and fire. There were bloodstains on the ground still and even remnants of her own blood against the wall. But at least the bodies had been removed.
Most other parts of the Mountain had been cleared as much as possible and any signs of damage had been marked for repair of some kind but she had instructed the Command Centre to remain the way it had been.
Perhaps it was a perverse sense of satisfaction at being able to see the destruction she had wrought upon the Mountain, maybe it was simply because she thought it important for all to know what had helped to bring the Mountain to its knees.
Whatever the reason she wouldn’t second guess it now that she looked at it with her own waking eyes. Perhaps it would be crass or a little too self serving or macabrely grandiose to make this her throne room in the Mountain. She’d rather not even give herself any more reasons to stay. But she thought the idea fitting.
“Heda?” Ontari’s voice quietly broke into her thoughts.
Clarke took only a moment longer to gaze upon the room before she turned and looked at Ontari. What Clarke saw was a deference that seemed a little more amplified in the way Ontari’s head bowed.
“I apologise, Ontari,” Clarke said. “Please repeat your question.”
“The warriors are preparing for the feast,” Ontari said. “Do you wish to welcome the Skaikru who surrendered?”
Clarke took a moment to consider that question. Whatever decision she made would pull their people in a direction she didn’t think she’d be able to come back from. She wasn’t worried about her reign or her control on the Coalition. No one would dare threaten a natblida, and especially not her after the Mountain’s death. But she knew things could cause headaches she wished to avoid if she could.
“Under guard,” Clarke said. It wouldn’t assuage every issue she knew to be lurking in the shadows. But it would hold them off for a while longer. “Place them under my royal guard. Whoever you select as guard,” Clarke added. “Ensure they are equal parts Azgeda and Trikru.”
“The other clans?” Ontari asked.
“They will not see insult,” Clarke said with a simple shrug. “Not when it was an Azgeda warrior that lead my warriors into the Mountain. And not when it was Trikru that faced the brunt of the Mountain’s wrath for generations.”
Ontari did well to gloss over Clarke’s praise. But perhaps it annoyed Clarke that Ontari’s eyes still had not met hers in ways they had once done.
“Look at me, Ontari,” Clarke’s voice turned a little firmer as she came to stand in front of Ontari more completely.
Ontari’s eyes rose and Clarke made sure to pin her with a stare that was in part kind, curious, welcoming but sharp. Keen. Demanding of something she didn’t care to consider for too much longer.
“How is your cheek?” Clarke asked.
“Sore,” Ontari said with a simple shrug. “But it will heal.”
Clarke studied the wound. It was a deep cut that had etched itself through her clan scars and pulled them askew enough that it was noticeable. She knew it would have been more painful than Ontari let on. But Clarke would let Ontari have this if she desired.
But that wasn’t what ailed Ontari.
Clarke could feel Ontari carried herself differently.
She watched as Ontari chewed her thoughts for a long pause. There was a subtle frown on the woman’s scarred face and Clarke let the silence linger, she let her eyes bore into Ontari’s and she waited.
Ontari’s lips parted before they closed, she looked away briefly and then she spoke.
“You are Heda,” Ontari’s voice was quiet. “Natblida. You entered the Mountain and destroyed it when no others could,” Ontari said. “You are Wanheda, Commander of death. The one who brought destruction to the Mountain and who gives life to our warriors.”
Clarke let her head tilt to the side slightly.
“But?” Clarke asked.
“I have heard whispers, Heda,” Ontari seemed to wince at her own words, the deference in her tone sounding a little different than what Clarke was used to.
“There are warriors that see another as Wanheda?” Clarke asked.
It didn’t surprise her.
She had considered that a possibility when Lexa had been the one to turn off the power.
“I—” Ontari chewed her lip, and the frown grew more strongly upon her face. “Yes.”
Clarke hummed a quiet response.
She wasn’t worried. Not in the moment. Whatever problems were to arise wouldn’t for some time. Not with the jubilation the Coalition would feel at the Mountain’s death.
But it was something she would need to address if she were to stop the clans from turning their attention inwards without the threat of external annihilation.
And yet there was still more. She could see from the way Ontari didn’t quite meet her gaze.
And Clarke knew what that was, too.
“You think I should take this power completely,” Clarke said.
And it was a statement of fact. It was a statement of truth that no others would be able to deny.
This time Ontari ironed her eyes and met her gaze without wavering. Clarke was thankful for that. She had known Ontari too long for the woman to back down from such a forward thing. She had known Ontari too long not to rely on her judgement in matters when asked. Even if Ontari sometimes offered a more brash suggestion than was necessary.
But in this matter Clarke was thankful that Ontari shied not from what needed to be done.
“Yes,” Ontari said. “Your power is absolute, Heda,” Ontari said. “None who are here will ever truly question it, but still. If there are already those that merely question, merely wonder…” she chewed her lip. “Those who did not see the Mountain’s destruction, those that did not fight and die by your side? They will see doubt as weakness.”
Clarke nodded her head as she let Ontari’s words settle within her mind. She had wondered if after all this suffering. After all this death and anguish and pain, that now, when peace might last longer than a week, she would need to take the power from an innocent woman, stake her claim as rightful heir to a title not bestowed upon another for generation.
“Ontari,” Clarke said quietly.
“Heda?”
Clarke softened her gaze in that moment. She reached out with a tired arm and she let her hand rest against Ontari’s uninjured cheek. Her fingers were gentle as they caressed her face, they were soft as they ran against the raised edges of her clan scars and Clarke smiled at her, the expression small. Purposeful. Honest
“Thank you for being by my side through everything,” Clarke said before she leant forward and pressed her lips to Ontari’s forehead in a gentle touch.
Clarke would need to make moves fast if she wanted to secure a legacy a little less full of bloodshed.
And she knew what she must do.