Pt. 44: Blood For Blood - A Warning

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This chapter was a struggle to reconcile some of the liberties I took in filling in Lexa's history and childhood trauma, while working to stay as close as possible to (well my idea of) her canon personality because when we meet her in the show she is this unquestionable badass (w/ a soft side only Clarke brings out). 

While I've enjoyed exploring her history with Luna, discovering some of her secrets she'd rather not talk about (Titus)...it only made sense that when facing something so intertwined with the most traumatic parts of her past to then reflect a little bit on what it was like BECOMING the badass we eventually see, and perhaps peek some guilt in not stepping into her FULL power even sooner.  (For those who wonder why she let Titus continue punishing her after becoming Commander- which for the record wasn't quite as often after ascension and had stopped several years before she even met Clarke...in the months after Costia's death)

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Despite the slow pace Lexa took trying to make the ride back as smooth as possible for a sleepy Clarke, the blonde was not able to fall back asleep

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Despite the slow pace Lexa took trying to make the ride back as smooth as possible for a sleepy Clarke, the blonde was not able to fall back asleep. Still, she happily laid back into Lexa with her eyes closed, soaking up the protective embrace, lazily reaching up to plant soft kisses under the commander's jawline every so often as they rode back to the capital in the crisp September morning air.  

However, the closer they got, the more rigid she felt Lexa's body get. The realization of what was happening today was fully setting in.  When they reach the outskirts and the tower is in sight, Clarke wakes all the way up, as Lexa thinks it best they not be seen riding into the city in this manner, so that it looks like they had perhaps merely left for a few hours to discuss political matters.

Having been barely awake when Lexa practically carried her out the cabin to put her onto the horse, and then having sat in front of her the whole ride back, seeing Lexa atop her own horse now even in just her cloak and warpaint, with her face dangerously serious was such a sharp contrast to the woman she'd just spent the last 48hours with, yet at the same time it was all too natural a look on her.

The commander is not even dismounted before she's snapping out orders in trig to the guards that greet them at the foot of the tower. Lexa's voice is assertive as she sends for Indra, orders everything be prepared in the square, and most importantly, barks out orders for the prisoner on the roof to be readied and moved. 

Lexa is all business, and Clarke can tell the flexing of her authority is helping her keep her raw anger in check.  The guttural emotions that know this isn't any ordinary execution.  Not any ordinary prisoner sentenced to death for breaking their laws. 

Clarke isn't sure what to do with her own emotions starting to swell as they walk through the lower halls of the tower, and fights to keep it all down in her stomach.

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