Of Myth and Legend

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

An: Set during S3. Starts as Clarke comes to Polis. Everything else will eventually be explained. Slow burn. Clexa endgame. Switching point of views, but will be made obvious. Italics will be trigedasleng.

She stands before her throne, Indra on one side and one of the advisers at the other. Dressed in complete Heda attire, sash and all, but she lacks the war paint. There is no need for it now, her people are at peace with the threat of the Mountain no longer lingering over their heads. Still, it lingers over her head like an angry cloud, reminding her of the battlefield she had abandoned.

She does not regret her decision, her people harol her as the greatest Heda for choosing her people over the alliance, but she thinks of the disappointed blue eyes all the time. This day she pushes those eyes from her mind, it is useless and weak to think of such things. She cannot allow herself to be haunted by the dead, because she was sure the owner of them was dead.

Clarke was legend among the Clans, the leader who sacrificed everything, even her life, to bring down the Mountain and save her people. She did it without Heda's army and on the back of a broken alliance. Her people respected her now, thought her worthy of the title Wanheda and held her as high as they did Heda Leska.

This day was a day to honor Clarke; Lexa was to induct the Skaikru as the thirteenth Clan in the Coalition. Today she was to help realize the fallen leader's dream, a world where her people were safe and free on Earth. Today, she waits to receive the leader of the Skaikru to sign the final treaty and then host a celebration in the Wanheda's honor.

Getting here has taken time, The Chancellor, Clarke's mother, had been difficult to deal with, as was the remaining hundred still loyal to their fallen leader, but Lexa had pushed on with reason and a new, unbreakable alliance stands. So she stands before her throne, her top general and adviser at her back, guards by the entryway and she waits.

A guard walks down the torch lit hall, his massive frame shielding the person behind him from all the eyes in the throne room. When he steps aside, all the air from Lexa's lungs escapes her like a hard blow has landed on her stomach. She approaches with all the confidence she'd lacked when they first held council together.

Lexa takes her in, and the guards at her back; Octavia and Lincoln, traitors who have been pardon in the treaty contract. She wears a leather sleeveless vest of black with black pants much like Lexa's own, her boots are the same she's always worn. There's a white sash hanging from the pauldron Lexa had given her a time ago. As it sways behind her, hitting the back of her thighs, splatters of rusty red catch the light. Lexa swallows when she realizes the stains are those made from blood.

Her blonde hair is twisted and plaited, so no strand lays freely, her bangs are braided back in an intricate design much like Lexa's own, keeping it from her face. Her face is washed clean except from the paint around her eyes, black covering each eye fully and stretching pass her temples to her hair, a small line of ashy silver beneath it starting at the corner of her eyes and following the black back.

There's a leather band encased around her left bicep the color of Lexa's sash, red, and a belt housing a number of small dangers around her waist. Lexa spots a bigger dagger, much like the one she carries, strapped to the outside of her right thigh, it's handle bone white and engraved with familiar symbols. These symbols repeat themselves on the leader's right bicep in a tattoo; the symbols mark her as Wanheda.

Clarke's left collarbone is lined with kill brands, the star shaped scars each representing a hundred lives taken; there's a line of seven and Lexa knows each one is true. Blue eyes stare at her as the silence encases them. Clarke was thought to be dead, there was no word of her with her people, Lexa had thought the worse and the Skaikru had done nothing to dissuade this belief. Lexa stamps down her surprise and fury at being mislead.

"I was expecting the Chancellor of the Skaikru...your mother, was thought to be the leader of your people...after your death." Lexa's mouth fights to make the words come out, because as sure as Lexa is standing here, Clarke stands before her, no more a ghost than she.

Clarke lets loose a crooked sort of smirk that shakes Lexa's core, but she does not allow herself to show her weakness in this moment. "As you can see, Commander, there has been a change in leadership. My mother no longer represents the Sky People. I alone lead. I trust this doesn't affect the alliance?"

There's a new confidence in Clarke's voice, something Lexa has only heard from seasoned warriors, and herself. She wonders just how Clarke has found this confidence in the span of one Winter. "It does not affect the alliance." Lexa confirms, looking to Indra and giving a small nod. "Indra will escort you to my study, we will sign the treaty there." Clarke moves to follow the general, Octavia and Lincoln following her. Lexa clears her throat. "Your guards will not be needed, they may wait for you outside the doors." She pauses as Clarke looks back to her. "There is no threat to you here."

Lexa curses herself at the low tone her voice has taken. "So you say, Commander." Clarke doesn't spare her much of a glance as she exits the room. Once out of sight, Lexa falls back onto her throne ungracefully. Her advisor, Roke, waves her guards from the room before addressing her.

"Heda, I thought the Wanheda had passed...our people will rejoice tonight. This is a good thing, is it not?" He speaks cheerfully, looking down upon her with a reverence she can barely stomach in this moment.

Lexa gives him a sharp nod. "The continued life of the Wanheda will inspire my people tonight. Her renewed role at the head of the Skaikru's leadership will instill much security and acceptance as they take their place as the thirteenth clan. It will be a joyous night." He smiles brightly at her words and exits the room quickly. She does not worry about him spreading the news of Clarke's arrival to the people; he knows it is her's to announce.

She finds Octavia and Lincoln stationed on either side of the door to her study. A reluctant respect bubbles in her chest as they remain impassive before her, though she knows they might still harbor some kind of hate for her betraying their leader, even if Lincoln is Trigeda born, he has always been loyal to Octavia and Clarke.

She accepts this. "Lincoln, Octavia...I welcome you to the capitol. You must know that no one views you as outsiders here...you and your leader will come to no harm within these walls." She speaks though she owes them no words of acceptance, the treaty has cleared them of all actions of rebel against her. They nod, she reaches to open the door and pauses with her head pressed against the wood. "I must know...the information of Clarke's continued fight, why was this hidden?"

Lincoln is the one that answers her, though they do not look at one another. "It has only been two weeks, Heda." He hesitates; Lexa thinks he is weighing his words, for he may no longer be seen as Trigeda, she will always be his Heda. "We all thought her fight had ended when she did not come back to the Sky Camp. We were wrong."

Lexa nods in acceptance and without anymore hesitation, she strides into the room with the air of confidence, as false as it may be. Indra bows her head respectfully, but Clarke does not turn to face her. The Wanheda keeps her eyes trained on Lexa's desk, covered in maps and pages, resembling the table within her tent of war. "Leave us."

Her general does not move. "Forgive me, Heda, but I do not think it wise to leave you alone with her...she seeks revenge."

Lexa's eyes fill with anger as she is defied. "Do you have proof of this? Do you believe that I cannot defend myself? You believe me to be weak, Indra? Leave us now." Lexa snarls lowly, trying not to let Clarke catch on to what is happening, but she knows Clarke has spent enough time in both her and Indra's presence to guess the words being exchanged.

Indra leaves after casting Clarke a loathing look; she has never trusted the sky leader, Lexa thinks that maybe she never will. She stands facing Clarke's rigid back and thinks, maybe she should not trust in Clarke so much after their history; she thinks, looking at the girl she left for dead, that Clarke will surely kill her on this day and Lexa would not blame her. Lexa would surely seek the same if it were she in Clarke's position.

Lexa clears her throat and still Clarke does not turn to meet her gaze. She licks her lips in a nervous manner. "Clarke." Lexa calls. In a flash the blonde turns, her hand clutching the dagger as she uses the other to push Lexa, pinning her to the wall across the room. Lexa does nothing to defend herself, even as the blade presses threatening against her throat. She stares without emotion, only acceptance in her eyes, and no hint of surprise.

"I should spill your blood right here, right now. It would be a worthy cause of my death." Clarke sneers in a whisper, her head tilted up by an inch so she can glare into Lexa's eyes.

Lexa keeps her hands pressed against the wall, she does not fight Clarke for control. If Clarke decides to end her fight this day, it would be her right to do so. Indra might call for her head, but Lexa knows her people would see truth and pardon their Wanheda from her crimes. Clarke would be free to walk from Polis. Clarke's eyes shift down, Lexa thinks she stares at her blade on the Heda's throat. Lexa believes Clarke is thinking of just how easy it would be to press the blade just a bit harder.

The lack of response from Lexa seems to cool some of the fire in Clarke's eyes. "You left me." Clarke murmurs, her voice soft even as she does not ease her knife from Lexa's throat. Her eyes find Lexa's once more, and Lexa almost chokes at the emotion swirling in the blue. "You let me die, Lexa."

This brings a frown to Lexa's brow. "You are not dead, Clarke." She finally speaks, her voice breaking around the words.

She watches as the expression on Clarke's face changes, anger no longer apparent, nothing but a snide rebellion in her eyes, everything else is gone now. "My body lives, Heda...but my spirit left me as the Mountain fell." Clarke admits, pushing herself off Lexa's body and turns her back to Lexa.

Lexa thinks Clarke must be confident that she will not retaliate. Lexa thinks Clarke is right. She moves until her eyes can fall onto the side of Clarke's face as the blonde searches out the treaty. Clarke finds and gathers it in her hands, her eyes tracing over the parchment. She watches the blue of Clarke's eyes. Lexa believes that Clarke's spirit is indeed broken, shattered, but she hopes that she did not kill Clarke's spirit, as the blonde so adamantly believes.

"What happened at the Mountain?" Lexa is glad some strength has returned to her voice, but knows she cannot keep it from being soft when she addresses Clarke, that ability left her long ago.

Clarke faces her, the lit torch on the table flickers across her jaw in a way that makes Lexa ache, casting light shadows even with the sun's light encompassing the room. She does not wish to see Clarke in such lighting, she believes she does not deserve the warmth it feels her with. "I did what I had to do." Her words are resolute. Lexa guesses that she does not wish to speak of it. Lexa guesses that Clarke believes her to be undeserving to know what happened after she abandoned Clarke. Lexa thinks she might be right. Lexa does not need to know, not now.

There are questions Lexa pushes down her throat, she will not asks them now. She wishes to know where Clarke has been and how she has survived the harshness of winter on her own. Was she truly on her own? Who is the one that has braided her hair in such a way, worthy of her station. Who was the one that marked her skin? Lexa does not ask, but she cannot keep herself from wondering.

Quietly, Lexa directs Clarke in signing the coalition treaty, same as all the clans have done before. The Skaikru added beneath the Azgeda. When it is done, she does not stop herself from speaking. "Your people follow you now, all of them." She states because she does not want to feel the sting when Clarke refuses to answer her question.

Clarke does not refuse her, though she does not answer the unasked question either. "What happens with my people does not concern you unless it pertains to you." Clarke doesn't speak with venom coating her words, she is direct and steady. Lexa envies her for the control she keeps, she wishes for such control over her own raging emotions.

"There is to be a celebration held in your honor tonight. My people thought your fight was ended, now they will celebrate for your presence among them." Lexa does not asks if Clarke will stay and attend.

Clarke clears her throat. "I was informed." She turns her back to Lexa once more. Lexa curses the sting she feels for it and she wonders if this is what Clarke felt when Lexa turned her back to her. Clarke stops short of opening the door. "I've plans to stay in Polis. My people thrive in thanks to the coalition, they are at peace. With our place permanent, we are free to come and go as we please, yes?"

"Yes." Lexa hurries to answer, stamping down the hope she feels. "You are welcomed to stay in this home, as all the Clan leaders do. If Lincoln and Octavia wish to stay as well, a home will be provided to them."

Clarke nods her head. "My mother was given a house among the people of Polis when she was believed to lead the Skaikru, I assume it still stands? If so, I wish to give it to Lincoln and Octavia, and any of my people who wish to come to Polis"

Lexa nods. "It does. It is yours to do with as you please, Clarke" Clarke lets loose a sigh as she nods and takes her exit, turning her back to Lexa one last time. All strength leaves the Heda's body as she sags against the table. Her head is thrown back as she looks above her, seeking guidance to ease her troubled heart. This is weakness, Lexa knows, but she is as unable to stop it now as she was when she kissed Clarke. Her throat closes off and her eyes sting with a threat of tears that Lexa will not allow to fall.

Her people come first. Her duty to them remains. Clarke is a weakness, but she is one that Lexa wishes to turn to strength. Being on the same side as the Wanheda will provide her with a strength few would step against. Lexa knows this alignment is needed now more than ever as the stirrings of rebels call out from the deadlands. With Clarke at her side, Lexa will not fall, because she already has.