Just Surviving (#Clexa)

Pain and Past

Sorry guys, but updates may become even slower as my exams approach... I'll still try my best to continue the story every week, though.
Thanks to all you readers and voters for staying with me!

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Clarke POV

When I'm out of Polis and can no longer see its lights – when I'm so far that it's just a silhouette in the distance and the blowing of horns is only faint... that's when I pause to look back.

The armour is heavy on my shoulders, and there's a cold pressure next to my chest where I placed the Flame kit. Whatever's happening right now in the capital, it's sure to be terrible. Titus will be punished for what he's done.

I only hope he still lives so he can protect Lexa.

If he doesn't, then I suppose the secret of where she's hidden has died with him. Once I've found Luna – once I've protected all of our people – I can come back and get Lexa. And I'll be able to tell her that I've repaid my debt to her. At that point, I will no longer owe so much to my people.

I can be happy.

But, before all of that, I need to stop the oncoming war. There's nothing preventing Ontari from lying and saying she has been ascended to Commander – at that point, she'll be able to order all twelve of the Grounder clans to attack Arkadia. I'm an enemy to both sides right now, so my best bet is finding this Luna and convincing her to take Ontari's place.

Cautiously, I pull the Flame box from my armour and open it to see the tiny mechanism inside. My horse shifts warily, and I sigh. At least I have Lexa's spirit with me, even though I'm leaving her behind in the most dangerous city in the world.

After returning the Flame to its hiding place, I urge my horse further on into the woods, leaving Polis far behind and heading into the unknown. Back in the wilderness again after so many months.

I'm the Wanheda once more.

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Lexa POV

I'm only barely aware of deft fingertips pressing the edges of my wound together while a needle and thread are pulled hurriedly through my skin. It doesn't hurt – I feel numb. I can't feel anything in my body except a dull aching in my skull and the back of my neck.

It feels as if I've been crying for a thousand years.

Surely, if I'm awake and someone's tending to my wounds, this means I'm still alive? But that begs the further question: alive from what? What's happened to inflict these wounds?

A sound somewhat like a deafening crack of thunder enters my mind, but I can't read further into it no matter how hard I try. In fact, it's more like the snapping of a piece of wood, or maybe shattering glass - something deadly and loud.

A sudden throb in the back of my neck makes me gasp audibly, and when I try to open my eyes, all I see for a moment is white pain. 

Pain and nothingness.

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8 years earlier...

Glowering, I open my eyes to seek out the source of my interruption. Two of the other children are jeering – the more outspoken ones that are, for the moment, favoured by the Commander. As usual, their insults are directed at the Floukru girl.

'What's wrong, little worm?'

'Why don't you fight back, little worm?'

The girl says nothing; she just stares at them with her usual impassiveness. With her hair wild like a lion's mane, her eyes like black coals, her skin ashen as the clouds.