Between Love and Servitude

by Ebozay

Summary:

Lexa must navigate her responsibilities as Heda while struggling to keep those she loves from harm and prying eyes. And it was easy. Simple. She had an elegant solution that was more fruitful than she could ever imagine.

But her life is turned upside down with the appearance of a people no one could ever imagine and the ambitions of those who threaten to destroy all she loves.

Chapter 1: Prologue

It was quiet in the halls of Polis tower. The moon sat perched proudly amongst the stars, and its light was kind as it gentled through the shimmering fabric curtains.

Lexa stood by a large window, her hands held behind her back as she looked out over Polis. The city was asleep. Small lights dotted the city, some moved by, the torch flame that flickered in the dark carried by weary city dweller or traveller, the other lights perhaps a small fire pit in the centre of any one of the many city squares that called Polis home.

Around her shoulders was a thin shawl. The fabric was soft, thick enough to shield the barest bite of the wind, thin enough to drape across her shoulders more kindly than she probably should accept. 

Upon her body were loose clothes, fabrics that were a little kinder upon her flesh compared to the armours, the leathers and metals she was so used to. But still, she had her knife tucked into its sheath by her hip. Its presence was familiar, comfortable. Constant.

Lexa took in a deep breath as she let her mind focus and steady on the present. She exhaled and she let the breath rattle through her lungs before she rolled her shoulders and leant forward, her hands coming to rest against the windowsill. The stone against her palms was weathered and smooth and softened from the generations before who had called Polis tower home.

This was probably the last night of quiet and calm she would have for weeks. She wasn’t looking forward to the mess that was to be the clans converging on Polis in the coming days. It was important, she knew that. It would help keep the peace, help temper bubbling grudges and it would help her put back into place those whose desires were getting a little too big for the coalition’s good.

But she could resent the coming frustrations, ambassadors and clan leaders for she knew headaches would come whether she wished them to or not.

Lexa felt the corner of her lip twitch, whether up or down she didn’t know, but it was an expression that was honest, one that told her that whatever she felt was real, understandable, something she would need to consider. 

Despite how quiet it was. Despite how calm Polis tower was Lexa felt the very subtle change in the air. She sensed something in the back of her mind and she tensed. Her body had survived duels, wars, skirmishes small and large and even assassination attempts too numerous to count and she knew an intruder approached.

Whoever they were, whoever it was, knew how to move silently, knew how to approach without making a sound.

But Lexa hadn’t survived as long as she had without learning to listen.

Lexa slowly moved away from the window lest she fall out of it, she continued to keep her head forward lest she give away her alertness and she slowly leant forward against the wall, the sturdy stone enough to provide security and support.

Lexa heard the telltale sound of fur just barely whispering in the dark and that told her all she needed to know.

Azgeda.

Lexa smirked something between victorious anticipation and eager desire.

It had been too long since she had been allowed to feel the satisfaction of such a fight and she felt her blood beginning to strum through her veins. Lexa spent just a second longer slowly walking into the closest shadow and then she moved.

Lexa moved fast. 

She sensed more than heard her assailant rush for her, she sensed the furs hissing through the wind. Lexa drop to a knee, she spun, rotated, pivoted on the spot. One hand reached up, slammed up into her assailant’s stomach and she was rewarded with a startled oof and then she rolled, she threw this person over her shoulder and— and—

Her assailant managed to roll with her throw, they managed to somehow regain their footing and Lexa felt strong hands reach for her wrists, reach for purchase against her body but Lexa anticipated it, she twisted her wrist, she ignored the slight strain she felt and then she smirked as her hands twisted out of their grasp, snapped forward and pinned their arms by their side before she surged forward, pushed, thrust and charged the person up against the wall.

She heard the curse, the muffled grunt of pain and then Lexa came face to face with anger and frustration and annoyance.

“Your Queen sends an assassin to do her dirty work,” Lexa whispered.

“My Queen,” there was a grunt of pain as Lexa’s grip tightened just enough around the person’s wrists lest they manage to reach for her knife. “Does not know I am here.”

Lexa’s lip twitched up at the corners at the revelation.

“So you risk punishment for such an unsanctioned act?”

“It is worth any punishment,” the woman said.

Lexa took a moment to take in the person who she currently had pinned against the wall. 

Blonde hair that seemed almost white in the pale moonlight hung down past the woman’s shoulders in mighty braids. Blue eyes, fierce, arrogant, sure and determined stared back at her in defiance and the scars that adorned the woman’s cheeks were equal parts fearsome, ornate, intricate and deadly.

“And what punishment do you expect?” Lexa hissed as her gaze searched the face, searched the eyes that stared back at her.

A slight lifting of the woman’s lips was the only warning Lexa had before a knee slammed into her stomach somehow. Lexa gasped in shock as she was lifted into the air high enough that the woman spun out from her grasp and flipped her onto her back.

Lexa slammed into the stone floor, she felt the wind knocked out of her lungs and then the woman leapt upon her, serpentine and poised. 

Strong knees pinned her arms by her side, cold hands clutched the sides of her face and the woman leant forward and over her enough that Lexa could feel the woman’s breath against her lips.

And so Lexa’s breath hitched in her throat as words tickled against the shell of her ear.

“Being away from you for so long has been punishment enough.”

 

Chapter 2

Lexa lay on her side, an arm tucked under her head and the sunlight dappled against the soft furs she lay upon. There was a subtle breeze that lingered and it made Lexa want to sink deeper into the furs.

By her side rested Klark, eyes closed and chest rising and falling slowly. Klark’s hair was a molten gold in the candlelight, it framed a peaceful face but at times Lexa saw Klark’s nose twitch as a loose strand of hair tickled her cheek with the gentle blowing of the wind.

Eventually Lexa took pity on Klark and reached out slowly, her fingers careful not to disturb Klark’s sleep as she tucked the strand of hair back into place behind her ear.

It was late. Or perhaps early. The sun was soon to crest the horizon, its light was already beginning to colour the sky a brilliant warmth but Lexa wished not to leave her bed, her quarters and descend amongst those that called Polis tower home. Not because she disliked it, not because she feared what her day would bring. But because she was always loathe to leave the calm, the peace, the beauty she shared in these quiet, private times.

Klark rolled onto her side to face her, Lexa remained quiet and she watched as Klark’s face scrunched up, she watched as she pushed her cheek more forcefully into a large pillow and Lexa smiled, she almost reached out and tickled Klark’s face before she thought better.

But Klark’s eyes snapped open, they focused on her and Lexa felt her lips twitch up into something a little more alive.

“I did not mean to wake you,” Lexa whispered.

Klark sunk deeper into the pillow and the furs before speaking.

“You did not,” Klark said just as quietly. 

“You are too kind,” Lexa challenged.

Klark let a small chuckle escape her lips before she answered her, “I am not used to such luxuries,” Klark’s voice was a little jovial in tone.

“Are you calling me weak?” Lexa lifted an eyebrow.

“I would never,” Klark said.

Lexa laughed and even to her ears it was an unfamiliar sound, something she never let herself experience too openly in front of others. And perhaps that thought was reminder enough that Klark and her had been apart for too long. 

It had been months, almost three seasons and Lexa hadn’t realised she had missed it as much as she had.

But just as quickly as that thought came, another thought followed. And it wasn’t so kind, wasn’t so happy. She felt a frown starting to form and…

“Stop,” Klark whispered to her. 

Lexa felt Klark’s finger press firmly against her forehead as if she was trying to push away the frown. She smiled, let out a steadying breath and reached out and took hold of Klark’s hand.

“Sorry,” Lexa said as she brought Klark’s hand down to her lips and kissed her knuckles.

“The ambassadors,” Klark said, she wriggled closer, one of her legs tangled with Lexa’s beneath the sheets. “The clans. The arguments. They can wait,” Klark leant forward, she pressed into her space, invaded her privacy and Lexa let her walls down, she let guard lower and she didn’t fight Klark’s invasion.

And so, before the day descended upon them, Lexa let Klark throw the sheets off them, she let Klark roll her onto her back and she let herself fall into Klark’s ministrations without care for the outside world for as long as she could spare.

 

---

 

Polis tower was already beginning to come alive. Servants, handmaidens, warriors and guards moved through its halls with more purpose, more focus then they had in days and weeks and months. The first of the clans were to arrive by midday and Lexa knew she needed to ensure everything would be just as was expected.

She walked the halls slowly, her hands held behind her back as she checked each station she passed. Those that greeted her did so with bowed heads and deference. Lexa didn’t need to inspect each station she passed. She trusted that her people had done their jobs dutifully, skilfully and with more care than any could understand. But she stopped at each one to show that she cared, that she understand the hours they had slaved away at their tasks.

Lexa currently stood at the entrance to the main kitchen. The sounds of pots and pans clanging away, the smell of baked goods being created wafted all around her and Lexa tried not to let her weakness take hold and urge her forward in search of just one little bite.

She wouldn’t intrude, wouldn’t dare make any of the cooks think that was what she was after for she knew they would go out of their way to—

“Heda,” one man said as he looked up from a table full of dough. 

“Tasa,” Lexa answered him with a small nod. “I will not intrude,” she held up a hand to stop him from beginning to move. “Message arrived early this morning,” Lexa continued. “The Azgeda contingent will arrive first,” Lexa saw another chef’s head look up at her words before quickly gesturing for someone else to do something she couldn’t discern just yet.

“We will ensure their welcome is ready,” Tasa said with a quick bow of his head.

And so Lexa smiled a small gesture as she bowed her own head before turning to leave, just one of the many stations she visited inspected, many more to go.

---

The streets of Polis were bustling, busy, more frantic then they had been for quite some time. Of course they were always busy. There were always the weary travellers, traders, scouting parties coming and going on their journeys. At times even a contingent of warriors, small or large, from clan far and wide who passed through Polis, whether to the border lands in chase of bandit or returning home from a tour embarked upon moons ago.

But it was different. There was more of everything. Business was to be had, wealths and riches a plenty and Lexa found herself actually enjoying the sounds that swallowed her whole being.

Lexa continued to walk through Polis, her hands behind her back, her shoulders squared and her spine straight. Upon her left shoulder was her pauldron, its weight comforting. Down her side flowed her sash as red as blood and as elegant and violent as any gushing wound. The black of her warpaint dripped down her cheeks, she felt its cool touch etch itself into her skin and even the small symbol upon her forehead seemed steady, present and ever there. Her royal guard moved with her, some in front as they ushered the city people aside, some next to her, many behind as they continued to walk.

The many they passed stood aside, bowed their heads and murmured a quiet greeting. Lexa returned those greetings with her own small nod, a lifting of a finger or a pointed look. For the children, some shy as they peaked out from behind a parent’s legs, others brave and hoisted upon shoulders and even those more daring who pushed forward she met with a softer nod, a gentler expression.

The main gates of Polis city rose up above the throngs of people in the near distance. A grand guard tower flanked each side. Lexa could see warriors standing watch, she could see others slowly walking on the wall and above the main gate that lay recessed within it. 

The gates were open, the mighty steel and wood intricate, sturdy, vibrant in construction as they welcomed all who approached and then Lexa let the smallest of smiles touch her lips.

She heard the mighty horn bellow out in the distance, she heard the sound echo through the streets of Polis and bounce off the stone and wood that surrounded her.

Azgeda approached. 

It only took Lexa a few more moments before she came to stand outside the gates of Polis. Her royal guard flanked her, each one with leathered armours so richly detailed they seemed at times more a wearable art piece. Lexa looked out at the main road of hard packed gravel and dirt. Fields and plains stretched out as far as the eye could see. Farmland, crops and farmhouses dotted the horizon before the forests of Trikru lands sprung up from the ground with such might it would steal any person’s breath. But Lexa stared out at the mass of white that approached from the north.

Azgeda banners flew in the wind. Azgeda warriors rode atop horses of thick and sturdy stature. Perhaps smaller than the lithe and agile horses that called Trikru lands home, the horses of Azgeda were stout, well haired and found a comfort in the freezing tundra and ice plains of Azgeda lands.

Lexa felt a twitch at the corners of her lips at a thought she quickly pushed aside as the warriors slowly turned from a single mass of white into greater detail as they approached. Each one’s face was painted a deathly white. Their furs were pristine, shimmering in the midday sunlight and Lexa wondered if they felt the heat, if the furs insulated them from it or if they simply pushed aside their comfort to put on a show.

“Queen Nia makes a statement,” Gustus said above her quietly.

Lexa hummed a gentle response without looking at the giant of a man who had been by her side for years. 

“Queen Nia reminds the clans that it was Azgeda and Trikru that bled and died together to destroy the Mountain,” Lexa said. “She is wise to use that legacy to her advantage.”

Lexa glanced up at gustus to find him eyeing the approaching Azgeda with wariness though. He was a man of few words, taller, broad shouldered and with a mighty beard that cascaded down his chest. Lexa didn’t blame Gustus for the distrust. There was a time years ago when she had only just ascended the throne that she had feared that open conflict between Azgeda and the coalition would cause turmoil and break the clans into pieces.

But Lexa had been wise. Or she had listened to her teachers and used their guidance to ensure the peace.

The Mountain, the foe that had cast its shadow across her people’s land had started to rise, had started to threaten all those who called the lands home and Lexa had used Azgeda as much as she had used Trikru to destroy it.

But the losses had been severe, the losses had at times seemed disastrous. But she had shown herself willing to sacrifice. Trikru had shown itself willing to bleed and die and that had stayed Queen Nia’s hand, in part because Lexa knew Nia only respected strength and in part because Azgeda had itself bled and died beside Trikru. Their people had forged a bond in suffering and though it had weakened Trikru it had also weakened Azgeda and put on hold any ambitions for greater power over the coalition.

And Lexa had known herself sure, long sighted, she had planned, strategised and expertly crafted their people’s combined reconstruction to ensure each clan would see the other as an equal partner to grow strong with.

But all that did come with some small headaches. Namely that Queen Nia enjoyed reminding the other clans that Azgeda was in some way better. Lexa knew she would need to navigate this new challenge in the seasons to come, but for now it could wait.

And so Lexa snapped her attention to the warriors that rode down the main path to Polis.

Lexa’s gaze first landed on Queen Nia who sat atop a mighty steed of pristine white. Metal armoured adorned the horses, it glinted a blistering silver in the sun. Upon the Queen’s shoulders was a magnificent cloak of white fur and brilliant blue stitching that wove ornate patterns that told tales of wars and victories, myths and legends that Azgeda held paramount. Nia’s banner men rode behind her, each one as mighty and as fierce as any of Lexa’s royal guard. 

But Lexa’s gaze landed upon Klark who rode just behind Nia. She wore furs just as pristine, but instead of a cloak, hers was a mighty jacket of leather lined with fur. The dusty brown leather was stitched with the same brilliant blue thread, her collar, opened to the heat exposed the soft white furs of her lands, and even her cuffs were fur lined and enough to keep the cold far from freezing flesh.

Klark’s face was painted that same deathly white, it made her eyes pop with such intensity that Lexa knew not to stare too long. Even her hair was braided back down her shoulders in such ornate patterns that Lexa didn’t know how Klark had found the time to do so since leaving her quarters early that morning.

And then the procession of Azgeda came to a stop.

Queen Nia dismounted her horse with practised elegance. She landed on the ground with a confident thud as her warriors did so behind her. Lexa stepped forward with a smile on her face.

“Queen Nia,” Lexa said in greeting as she bowed her head just a fraction.

“Heda Lexa,” Nia returned the gesture, the dip just low enough to be polite. “It is an honour to be the first invited to Polis.”

“And Polis City and its people welcome you with open arms and reverence,” Lexa answered her. “There is a feast being prepared for our honoured guests and for those whose fight ended in the defeat of our enemy,” Lexa gestured for Nia to follow her.

And so it was as it had always been.

Lexa beside her mortal enemy. Niceties shared between them with daggers just barely held at bay, warrior to warrior, and futures ever uncertain.

Chapter 3

Raven normally wasn’t nervous floating through the emptiness of space. For starters she was always tethered and she trusted the safety equipment; though that was mostly because she was the one that had designed it. She also enjoyed the weightlessness, the silence and the isolation. Or at least until the radio spike in her ear and she needed to check in with Sinclair. 

But all of that was thrown out the metaphorical window in that very moment for she was under more pressure than she had felt ever.

The Ark was going down to the ground. There was no changing that fact. The decision had been made and preparations were well underway. Raven frowned in concentration as she slowly tightened the bolts on the access panel she had put back into place, the systems beneath it tested and within spec. She looked back at the long spindly arm of antenna sensors she had been scaling, the panels she had accessed, tested and closed more important than most would ever understand.

She only had a few more to go before she was done but she wouldn’t rush it. They’d have one shot and if any one of the sensors went down on their reentry she didn’t think she could live with herself, mostly because the chance they’d crash into the earth and explode would increase tenfold.

“Raven,” Sinclair’s voice broke through her thoughts.

“Go for Raven,” she said.

“How’s it all looking out there?” he asked.

Raven turned slowly, one hand holding onto a rung, the other carefully pushing off the metal plating to turn her back to face the airlock. 

“Just a few more to go,” Raven said as she squinted at the small window and the shape she assumed to be Sinclair watching her. 

“We’re actually running ahead of schedule,” Sinclair said. “We won’t need you back in for another thirty,” Sinclair’s small figure lifted a hand and Raven assumed he gave her a thumbs up.

“Sounds good,” Raven said before the radio clicked off.

And Raven sighed, she turned back to the antenna and she took a moment to pause and to really take in what Sinclair had said. Normally space walks were monitors down to the second - oxygen had always been the most protected resource they had on the Ark but it was running out. And that fact was the catalyst for why they were throwing one last Hail Mary and sending the Ark down to the surface.

So of course Raven knew her time space walking would come to an end but there was something final, heavy and real hearing Sinclair’s voice. She knew he was giving her the time to enjoy space one last time and that fact brought with it a little more emotion then she expected. Raven blinked quickly in the hopes that she’d control the tears and once she got her emotions in check she shook her head and refocused. 

It only took her a few more minutes to access the remaining panels and test them before she was tightening the last bolt and tucking her tools back into their bag. Raven looked at her watch to find she still had ten minutes left, she looked back at the airlock to find it voice of Sinclair or anyone else waiting to reel her back in. She knew there were other space walkers dotted around the Ark, each one running final checks on their section of the station and Raven knew they’d radio for assistance if they needed it.

So maybe it was a little selfish that Raven simply hooked her tool bag onto her tether before she gave it a careful and firm tug. Satisfied that it was as secure as it always had been Raven let go of the rung and pushed off with her hands and she smiled. 

Weightless took her away from the Ark and it seemed like she was moving in slow motion as she moved further and further away. Raven let the smile spread across her lips more freely than it had for quite some time and she let her emotions grow a little more firm.

She braced herself just a bit as the tether reached its maximum and jolted her slightly. But that was expected and she found herself realising that that itself, would be the last time she’d feel it. 

Raven laughed. She didn’t mean to and she didn’t really know what spurred it on. She thought it  the emotions, she hoped it simply because she wouldn’t let herself cry in her spacesuit for all the reasons she shouldn’t. But Raven didn’t care to really analyse it in that moment. There’d be time to miss the feelings, there’d be time to long for the weightlessness of space and there’d be time to dream of it again once they were on the Earth.

But for now Raven was free.

She even smiled and laughed and waved a little more childishly as, from the corner of her eye, she saw another tether pulled taut as it kept its own space walker from floating off into the nether. 

And maybe for a moment Raven didn’t feel so childish, didn’t feel so selfish and alone as she held onto something she knew she’d never get to experience ever again.

 

---

 

Raven walked down the halls of the Ark. Any of the outer sections had already been abandoned, anything remotely valuable and not welded in place removed and stowed away in the inner most sections all in the hopes that should the Ark begin to fall to pieces on re-entry that the outer segments would take the brunt of the damage.

Raven didn’t even think there was science behind the decision. But she supposed whatever helped keep everyone’s heads calm and collected couldn’t hurt. She had a back slung over her shoulders, the weight enough to cut into her already tired body as she made the last trip to the engineering deck.

Sadness also seemed to have become a constant companion for her over the last few hours. She had spent her entire adult life keeping the Ark’s systems from falling apart, she had spent hours fixing things that had been broken from age or misuse or any number of things that had gone wrong over the last hundred years. So seeing it being taken apart almost broke her.

But she felt something close to bittersweet happiness too. The Ark was giving its life for everyone to have a fighting chance and she could respect that. Perhaps the fact that the Ark had made it this far was testament enough to the blood, sweat and tears that she and every other mechanic and engineer had shed. 

People moved back and forth through the corridors, too. Some with arms full of supplies, others helping to move or carry things, some running from station to station. Their was a frantic energy in the air, it spiked at times, lulled at others and Raven couldn’t blame anyone. 

She trusted that they’d made all the necessary modifications, she trusted that they had done everything they could. It was up to chance, now, she thought.

Raven didn’t realise she had made it all the way to engineering until the doors opened with a subtle hiss to reveal a normally bustling engineering bay that was now almost empty.

In contrast to the corridors of the Ark, main engineering hardly had anyone in it anymore. Most were probably making final inspections of the designated safe areas inside the Ark that people would gather. Most of the equipment that could be used had also been removed. Spaces where consoles used to be lay empty, sockets and loose wires the only thing to indicate a missing presence. 

Raven felt her emotions threaten to well up again at the sight and she leant against the nearest bulkhead. The cool metal helped soothe her emotions, at least enough that she didn’t openly cry. But it was hard. Harder than she had expected. 

There was really no going back and she found herself feeling the loss as if the Ark had been a loved one she had helped nurture throughout their lives.

“It’s so quiet,” Sinclair’s voice said quietly beside her.

Raven hummed a response and she turned to find him looking out over main engineering with his own sad smile. 

“I never thought this day would come,” Raven said. “The Ark’s always been here for us.”

Sinclair smiled and Raven could see him trying to come up with something light to say. But instead he simply shook his head and wiped the back of his hand across his eyes.

“She’s taken good care of us,” Sinclair said, his voice thick with emotion.

“Hey, now,” Raven nudged his shoulder with her fist. “No crying. If the Chief Engineer cries then that means we’re all doomed.”

Sinclair choked back a small laugh before shaking his head.

“Ok,” he said.

Raven watched him take in a deep breath and she bit her own lip to stop it trembling.

“Was there something you needed down here?” he asked eventually.

Raven just shook her head and found herself staring at a conduit that had once been a thorn in her side.

“No,” Raven said. “Just saying goodbye,” she looked back at him in time to see his head nod in understanding. 

“Take your time,” Sinclair said, “I’m heading up to the CIC— apparently I’m needed up there.”

And with that Sinclair turned and began walking away but before he could get too far Raven called out to him.

“Hey, Sinclair,” she said and she waited until he paused and turned to look back at her. “Thanks for the extra space time.”

Sinclair just smiled at her and shrugged. 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said with a knowing nod of his head. 

 

---

 

Lexa sat at the head of her mighty dining table. Her hands resting against the weathered wood as she looked from warrior to warrior who sat before her. Only Trikru and Azgeda were present. That wasn’t a surprise. Most clans wouldn’t arrive for another day or two, and sometimes Lexa preferred it that way, and sometimes it grated simply because it meant the other clans would grow jealous, and at times Azgeda would grow a little too bold for her liking.

But for the time being she had kept the peace through cunning. Guile. Violence and at times threats.

Queen Nia sat opposite her, the woman’s head cocked to the side as she read the trade request from Sangedakru.

“I see the summer was not as kind to them as they would have many believe,” Nia said eventually. 

Lexa didn’t respond immediately, she was more than happy to let Nia come to her own conclusions before she needed to sway her one way or another. Sometimes that worked, sometimes it didn’t but for the time being Lexa was content to sit and wait.

It most definitely didn’t hurt that Klark sat next to Nia, her gaze drifting off from something hanging on the wall to something adorning the dining table or even to one of the guards that stood around them. Lexa fought the slight twitch of her lips as she watched Klark’s interest continue to wane before she took pity on her.

Lexa stood, she felt Klark’s attention snap to her and follow her movements as she walked over to the map that hung from the near wall. Lexa stared at it for a long moment before she pointed to the Sangedakru capital.

“They wish for more resources,” Lexa said.

Nia put the scroll down and looked at her.

“And they wish for Azgeda to blunt their poor resource management,” Nia said. There was a hint of derision in her tone.

“Yes,” Lexa said with a simple nod. 

Truthfully she didn’t blame Nia for feeling the way she did. Sangedakru had grown used to being saved from poor management since the Mountain’s fall— all under the assumption that Lexa would bend over backwards to keep the Coalition together.

“A vast number of their traded supplies do not last the journey across the dry plains to their people,” Lexa continued, she drew a tired finger across the map and over the  dry plains that connected Sangedakru and the Azgeda great lakes.

It wasn’t lost on Lexa that the journey was difficult. It had taken her years of careful planning to ensure that Sangedakru became almost reliant on resources not accessible to them without Azgeda’s approval. In part to punish the desert clan and its former Heda who had almost thrown the coalition into Chaos. Part of her found it more than distasteful that part of his legacy still bled her to this very day. But everyone must sacrifice if the Coalition was to survive.

“Their warriors are fierce,” Klark’s voice said into the quiet.

Lexa turned to find Klark leaning over the table enough that she could read the treaty laying in front of Nia.

“They are used to suffering and surviving off the lands,” Klark added. “You think they can afford this discomfort for another season?”

“Just as Azgeda can thrive in the frozen plains and tundra, so too can Sangedakru survive the dry plains and desert fields,” Lexa said.

“And yet?” it was Nia’s turn to speak and Lexa saw the narrowing of her eyes slightly.

“We will negotiate an increase in Azgeda supplies to them,” Lexa said simply. “Enough to offset the amount lost during transport.”

“We will?” Nia’s lips twitched down into something close to a sneer but she was careful not to let it take hold too clearly upon her face.

“Was it not their idea to form closer relations with Azgeda?” Lexa challenged. And it had been Sangedakru’s idea. Mostly. It just had a little whispered nudge here or there.

“They believed our land’s similarities would equate to wealthy trade,” Klark added, and Lexa looked at her to find a slight sparkle in her eyes.

“Fools,” Nia said with a laugh as she seemed so slowly see where Lexa was leading them. 

“They will be humble in asking for more,” Lexa said. “And you will be right to ask for more from others in the Coalition,” Lexa continued. 

And she knew the problem not solved. No problem would ever be solved. But for now Azgeda and Sangedakru would grow closer through trade, Sangedakru more reliant than ever on the only clan similar to them, and for Azgeda, they would become more reliant on the rest of the Coalition. 

And for the moment, Lexa hoped, that it would ensure the peace would last. At least until the next round of trade negotiations.

 

---

 

Lexa looked out her balcony window. The late afternoon sun shone down upon Polis City far below. Lexa always marvelled at the city in the rising and setting sunlight. It looked aglow, washed with an orange mist that almost seemed like the eternal flame itself was casting its light upon everything it saw.

There was a gentle breeze that danced against her face. For the moment she could enjoy it. For the moment she could embrace the fact that things were calm and not so full of shouted insult. The first meeting with Nia had gone better than she had hoped and—

“I have missed this,” Klark said quietly as she sidled up next to her.

Lexa felt the corners of her lips turn at into a small smile as she turned to face Klark who stepped out from her washroom, the feint smudges of white paint missed during its removal gracing her hairline. 

“The view,” Klark added quietly once she came to rest against her, shoulder to shoulder.

“Is that all?” Lexa asked.

“Perhaps,” Klark said with a wry smile.

“You impressed me today, Klark,” Lexa said.

“Oh?” and Clare leant her cheek against her shoulder and pressed a little more closely into her side.

“You listen well, you learn from Nia and—”

“—And talks of trade, negotiations, treaties—” Klark made a disgusted sound that was half jovial, half so very honest. “I do not enjoy.”

Lexa didn’t respond immediately. She was content to let Klark’s presence speak for itself for the time being. She even found herself weaving her fingers between Klark’s and squeezing her hand only to apologise as Klark winced at the pressure.

“A skirmish,” Clare said in explanation. “I was victorious,” she added.

Lexa looked down at her knuckles to find them slightly bruised, reddened, perhaps the remnants of a healing wound still visible. She didn’t push the subject more, there was no point. Wounds, some superficial, others more serious, were a constant on the ground, even if the Mountain no longer existed to cause destruction.

“I am glad you were victorious, Klark,” Lexa said as she lifted Klark’s hands to her lips carefully before she placed a kiss on her knuckles.

Both women fell silent then as they looked out over the city. Lexa could see the Azgeda encampment already being set up on one of the many large training grounds. Soon the city would be buzzing with activity throughout the night but for now she was happy, she was content to live in the moment. 

She wouldn’t be able to have many more alone with Klark. Not while negotiations were aplenty. 

“How was Prince Roan?” Lexa asked eventually.

“Do you often think of Prince Roan when I am with you?” Klark said, her tone light.

“Yes,” Lexa said before she quickly ducked the fist Klark threw at her.

Klark didn’t chase her though, instead she turned her back to the city and lent against the high railing. Lexa let the silence linger once more as she returned to her spot beside Klark, though she continued to look out at the city as if the answers to whatever thoughts she had could be found amongst the winding streets below.

“Prince Roan enjoys putting aside his duties to the clan while he can,” Klark said. And this time her tone was quieter, more serious.

“And the Mountain?” Lexa asked just as quietly.

Klark didn’t answer straight away and that was answer enough for Lexa.

“Queen Nia does not approve,” Klark said simply.

“Klark,” Lexa said, and pushed into her space just enough that Klark needed to look at her.

“I will not urge my Queen to do something she chooses not to,” Klark said and she faced her and didn’t back down from the invasion of her space.

Lexa searched Klark’s face, she looked into her eyes but all she saw was confidence, surety and and defiance. And Lexa knew not to push. or she didn’t want to push. Not when she wouldn’t have much more time alone with Klark.

And so Lexa stepped back just enough that she felt Klark relax, too. 

“I—” Klark paused for a brief moment before she turned and wrapped her arms around her. “I am sorry,” she said, her breath cold as it brushed against Lexa’s neck.

Lexa didn’t feel the need to respond other than to let Klark’s touch settle against her body. 

“There will be time for arguments, Klark,” Lexa said, her tone back to the lightness of moments before. 

“Ones in which I will emerge victorious,” Klark answered her.

Lexa did let out a small laugh at Klark’s answer.

“Perh—”

But whatever Lexa was going to say was killed in her throat as an almighty roar exploded around them.

Lexa jumped, Klark instinctively ducked and grabbed Lexa to pull her down into safety as skyfire seemed to descend upon them, and Lexa’s heart spiked, her adrenaline surged, her mind began to race, spin, try to understand, try to make sense, try to see, to prepare to understand how the Mountain’s return could even be—

And she saw it.

Great balls of fire exploded in the sky high above Polis. Streaks of fire crashed through the clouds and split off into smaller streaks and Lexa stared.

Lexa stared as something enormous, something indescribable, something she could never even begin to imagine came crashing down from the heavens.