Osu Throu Daun Ogeda || We Fight Together || A 100 Fanfiction

XVIII

- Third Person POV -
Clarke's steps are slow and deliberate as she approaches Lexa's guarded tent, the weight of the evening pressing down on her shoulders. The night outside is still and quiet, the kind of silence that only comes before a storm. As she reaches the entrance, she pauses, trying to gather her thoughts as Gustus moves the curtain aside The past few hours have been a whirlwind—finding Jordan, seeing the state she was in, and the unsettling discovery that somehow, Jordan had been taken without anyone's knowledge, including her own mother, Abby. It all felt wrong, like there was a piece of the puzzle that was missing.

Pushing aside her uncertainty, Clarke steps into the dimly lit tent. The few candles flicker weakly, casting an uneven glow that only adds to the tension she feels. Her eyes look out for Lexa, who is seated on her throne, her posture unusually rigid. Lexa stares ahead, seemingly lost in thought, but the moment Clarke enters, her gaze snaps to her, eyes sharp and alert.

"Commander," Clarke greets, her voice soft but tinged with concern.

Lexa's eyes narrow slightly as she acknowledges Clarke with a curt nod. "Clarke." She replies, her tone clipped, as if she is trying to hold something back. "What news do you bring?"

Clarke hesitates, the coldness in Lexa's voice catching her off guard. She has expected urgency, concern, but there is something else beneath the surface—something darker, more vulnerable, that Lexa is trying to keep hidden. It is a side of the Commander that Clarke did not expect to see.

"I found her." Clarke begins, stepping closer, hoping her presence might break through the wall that Lexa seems to be putting up. "I found Jordan."

For a brief moment, Clarke sees a flash of relief in Lexa's eyes, a fleeting softness that vanishes almost as quickly as it appears. Lexa straightens in her seat, her fingers gripping the armrests a little too tightly. "Where is she?" She asks, her voice controlled but trembling with an undercurrent of something Clarke can't quite identify—fear, perhaps.

Clarke frowns slightly, unsure how to interpret Lexa's reaction. "She's with my mother." She says carefully, studying Lexa's face. "They've stabilized her. She's hurt, but she's alive."

Lexa's posture remains stiff, but Clarke notices the subtle way her shoulders sagged in relief, even though her expression remains guarded. For a moment, it seems as if Lexa is going to let down her walls, but then she turns her head away, as if ashamed of the emotion she had momentarily shown.

"And how did this happen?" Lexa's voice is quieter now, almost fragile, though she tries to keep it steady. "How was she taken without anyone knowing? Why did your mother not know?"

Clarke is taken aback by the vulnerability in Lexa's tone, despite her attempts to hide it. She can see the cracks forming in Lexa's usually impenetrable exterior, and it both confuses and worries her. "I don't know." Clarke admits, her voice softening as she takes another step closer. "My mother didn't even know Jordan was there until I told her..."

Lexa's jaw tightens as she rises from her throne, her movements stiff as she begins to pace the small space in front of Clarke. It is clear that she is trying to control herself, to mask the emotions that are threatening to spill over. But Clarke can see it—can see the fear, the anger, the frustration that Lexa is desperately trying to suppress.

"This shouldn't have happened." Lexa mutters, almost to herself. Her voice is strained, and her eyes flicker with something close to panic. "She was supposed to be safe..."

Clarke grows confused by the sight of Lexa like this—so raw, so exposed. She attempts to reassure her with words. "She's stable now." She says gently, trying to calm the storm she can see brewing within Lexa. "We have the medical supplies to help her. I promise she's being taken care of."