Lexa did not forget about a shadow.
She had never. Not when Madi had cried of it; confided to her in it; and she, in turn, had seen the shadow herself, when she'd fallen into that pit and was left with nothing but a sea of stars above her head and a pair of screaming arms that just wanted her to let go and release the pain from her head.
It was Emerson, she had told herself. Emerson that was the shadow; that set up the trap. Emerson that lied about his resource stolen and had denied of his involvement of it all. Emerson, she'd told herself when she found those tracks near Floukru. Blamed it all on the Maunon because they were an easy scapegoat.
It had always been on her mind. And she had warded it off; when Luna appeared and stolen all their resource; her blood-relation to Madi that wiped away the crime—yet she knew there was more to the story than the surface. Especially after their talk, that fueled her suspicions further when Luna refused to speak of anything regarding the close-past—and when Luna said it?
She should not have been surprised. And she was not; not really. But she had let herself be ignorant. Let herself forget about the shadow and let herself dream; especially after the talk with Madi, especially when she told her that they could be better. Had hoped, even. Despite herself; despite her mind and sanity pounding the opposite; but she had hoped— too much in this bedraggled land.
Now? She wished she didn't know it at all; but those words would be a lie, because, in some sense or another, she'd known all along.
(Because past sins should've died with the dead.)
And chances were that there played five survivors in this game.
One dead. Buried in a valley that they'd tried to forget.
Three of them. Clarke. Lexa herself. And Madi; a child that had not a care in the world until the world manifested its ugliness and its slick black heart unto her.
And her. Luna. The mastermind behind this mess.
Lexa wished she did not know. Perhaps wished Emerson and the shadow was one in same; hoped that there was not another survivor to further muddle the mess. Yet, in some way or another, she had known all along, in her heart. So did it matter?
Because Luna was still alive; she was responsible for the trap that nearly killed her, as she was for robbing them of a resource thus leaving them for dead; and what more could be said?
...
''I would like to talk about Luna.'' Lexa said once the door creaked shut. She faced Clarke, who seemed visibly alert after she had said the first sentence. Clearing her throat, she said: ''What should we do about her?''
''... I don't know,'' Clarke replied truthfully. She didn't know what else to say. Not after that admission. Not after knowing that not only Luna had stolen their supplies, raided their abode, and took most, if not all of their food while they were gone, but knowing that she was also responsible for the entire situation that involved Carl Emerson only a year ago?
She didn't even know what to think. If it wasn't for the resources they took from Becca's Lab, and their berry-farm, they would be dead already. And they hadn't even begun to talk about Emerson and the misunderstanding that became so apparent now.
Luna was dangerous—a manipulator, a thief, a liar, and a murderer on top of it all. And yet those were not her worst qualities—no, it was because she was a survivor, and the boundless lines which she would cross to live. It was only logical that they had Luna leave. For it was a matter of survival, nothing else and nothing more.
But this... this was Madi's sister they were talking about. The sister she loved, mourned, and her true family, so to speak. And even if Luna did take all their supplies, even if Luna was responsible for the entire trap-debacle and everything else that had followed, they couldn't exactly kick her out because, of course, they had Madi to consider.
