#@lexa

“Then let it be known: blood must not have blood.”

Heda sounded stern, almost frightening, in her conviction. She commanded the attention of everyone everywhere she went. Not just because she was Heda, the most powerful person on earth, but because her sheer presence gave off confidence, gave off wisdom.

Clarke had never been scared of her—she had always challenged her, questioned her—but in moments like this, she could see why others would be. Even Indra, not easily intimidated, seemed to almost flinch when Lexa demanded her loyalty. But more importantly to Clarke, she was almost taken aback by how quickly Lexa had agreed with her. From the beginning of her alliance with Lexa, she knew all too painfully how integral “blood must have blood” was to her, to her people, her culture. She would not easily forget kissing Finn, sobbing, as she plunged the knife into him. Her hands covered in blood, which she couldn’t imagine would ever wash off. Her hands would always be covered in blood.

Just like Bellamy’s were. Just like Pike’s. She couldn’t believe this of her own people. She had worked so hard for so long to make peace, to represent her people, to keep them safe. She had become the Commander of Death so they wouldn’t have to be. And what did they do as soon as she was gone? Kill the very group of people sent there by Lexa to protect them? To ensure their role as the thirteenth clan was secure and peaceful? Why couldn’t they understand?

Bellamy had pulled the lever with her in Mount Weather. Surely he knew the same burdens that Clarke did, surely he too was haunted by the faces of the dying whenever he closed his eyes. The sounds of innocent children screaming. How dare he blame her for leaving them, for his choices? How could he possibly continue killing the innocent—after everything they’d been through?

Clarke winced slightly as Titus touched and examined her face, covered in Ontari’s dry blood. She winced both at his unfamiliar touch—he had made his feelings about her very clear—and at Lexa’s gaze. Letting Lexa see her like this, covered in blood, having to explain how her plan failed, made her feel weak. After being humiliated by Nia and Ontari, the first thing she wanted to do was to wash it off, nurse her pride, and come up with another plan to keep Lexa from having to fight or be forced from her throne. Arguing with her didn’t work, Roan’s poison didn’t work, there must be something to make her see reason.

But the blood’s color confused her. She was very young when she started her apprenticeship with her mother on the Ark, and since landing on the ground, had worked tirelessly to save her friends’ lives and heal their wounds. Before now, she figured she had seen everything blood can do and be. She had never heard the word Natblida before, and she knew that Nia’s plot had to be brought to Heda’s attention immediately. As frustrated as Clarke was with herself and Roan’s scheme, perhaps this could be another opportunity to convince Lexa not to fight. To save her life.

After Titus completed his examination, he approached his Heda.

The first chance Clarke had to herself after the ceremony, she changed her clothes and rubbed the heavy and uncomfortable makeup off her face. She had gotten used to not wearing nice clothes and makeup since landing on the ground; the only other time she had done so was when she was a captive at Mount Weather. And though she chose to stay because she knew it was the right choice—the only choice—for her people, she felt like a captive in Polis too.

She couldn’t kill Lexa. She agreed to swear fealty to her, to become the thirteenth clan. These were all political decisions. But after everything the two of them had gone through…even after all that, Lexa had betrayed her. And just because Clarke had sworn fealty to her in front of her people and representatives from the Twelve Clans didn’t mean that Clarke had actually forgiven her.

After changing, one of Lexa’s handmaidens told Clarke that Heda requested her presence. Scowling, Clarke left her chambers and waited for the Commander. She mentally relived Lexa’s betrayal and the fall of Mount Weather over and over again in her mind—just as she had multiple times a day for the last three months, just as the bodies of the innocent men, women, and children she killed haunted her nightmares. She asked herself the same questions that she had asked herself for months: the whys and hows of what Lexa did, what Clarke had done.

Finally, Clarke heard the sound of doors shutting that indicated Lexa’s arrival. She turned around to face Heda.

Don’t give him the satisfaction of being upset by his words.

He’s saying it only to hurt you, try and cater to other shippers so he can be vilified and save his own ass. We all know it isn’t true.