In love may you find me.

You're not going to lie. Waking up alone was hard. But escaping this world and going into another one for hours was the best medicine against the emptiness. You slept through the night, and woke up rested, with an ache in your chest, yes, but missing bags under your eyes and the tiredness of your body. Tiredness of your soul wouldn't pass yet but you figured that it might never. You made peace with that.

Waking up later than usual meant that you stole a few hours of waiting, anticipating, wondering and worrying. You stole a few moments of peace. But you're awake now and you have this feeling. This weird feeling. Getting dressed, braiding your hair and putting on your war get up fails to distract your mind. Titus is already wanting for you outside your bedroom when you come out. And you're already tired of seeing him. You care for him a great deal, and there's no denying that he taught you of immense knowledge. But divergent opinions cannot make for a healthy relationship between a student and her teacher. He needs to open his mind, expand his vews.

"No words from the blockade, Titus?"

"No, Leksa, the messengers have yet to come back with informations."

You nod, not letting disappointment get to you. But worry is another matter entirely, and not knowing what is happening is eating your sanity slowly and painfully. You go to the meeting room, ready to start the meetings with the clan leaders. There's a lot of screaming, a lot of protesting. Most of them are scared, you know it. Confused. This is new, and frightening, to change your ways. When you've been taught all your life that one is to act in a certain fashion, who are you to tell them otherwise?

But you take on the responsibilites once again, to be the one that will offer them a better life. They just need to see that. They just need to have results, ones that are yet to come. Soon. You hope with all your might. You must contain them, reassure them, in the meantime, never failing to trust Clarke in her mission. She's not only saving her people. She's saving this coalition, this fragile empire that is threatening to fall.

It isn't merely your title that you fear for but the mess that would occur if a civil war where to happen between the grounders. And you do not want that for your people. You want them safe, and happy, and able to raise their children with a peace of mind you will never get.

Hours pass and arguing doesn't subside. Titus is standing here watching while the leaders demands justice, blood and explanations. Why isn't there news? Why Skaikru hasn't still taken down their leaders? Should we trust them? No we shouldn't, they say. They are not welcomed, they say. We shouldn't help them. You want to argue back stronger, but you buy yourself time. And just listen, because at this point, you're not nearly involved in the conversation. You take it. It's okay if they need to scream, and to yell, and take it out on you.

Mid afternoon though, the doors of the meeting room open, and the guards let through Izel, strong stance and fierce eyes. There's a tightening in your chest, fingers gripping the side of your throne and you fight, hard, no to leap on your feet and kneel down, begging for words from Clarke.

"Heda, I come with informations on the blockade."

"Let's take this to another room."

The sounds of the protest makes you raise your hand. You ignore the few that still protests and lead him to the corridor outside the meeting room, away from prying eyes and ears.

"Tell me about the blockade first, Izel." You say when he reaches in to give you what your wished for.

"Wanheda and Octeivia kom Skaikru have come up with a plan to evacuate the people inside Arkadia that do not agree with Pike. They are planning to confront him once everyone is outside. They managed to get into contact with them and the planning is still going on. They fear for war but the armies of the 12 clans are ready to fight if it comes down to it."

"Very well." You extend your hand and quickly unfold the letter you discover. The words do nothing to soothe the pain, or stop the worry. On the contrary when you lift your eyes to Izel, you are pleading.

"What else can you tell me?"

"Heda.."

"Izel, you will tell me about Clarke, and you will tell me now." You won't even try to call her anything other than Clarke. No need to pretend in front of him.

"When I arrived to camp, Wanheda was in her tent with Octavia, she was trying to comfort her.."

"What do you mean comfort her? Is Clarke injured and she failed to tell me?"

"No Heda, her body seemed untouched." You do not like where this conversation is heading, blood is rushing to your cheeks, tears to your eyes, your heart is threatening to come out of your body through your mouth. Fist wrinkle the paper of the last words you have from Clarke. "But I am afraid that her mind is not. She seemed pained and suffering, on her knees. She was crying a great deal. I left the letter and went to find Indra. A few hours later, she came back, seemed rested and went on to the plan but I could see ghosts behind her eyes. She did not seem well."

The newfound piece of information is the last straw. You cannot stand by this another minute.

"Also," Is this not over yet? Do you need to hear more of this torture? "She told me to tell you that you look beautiful."

You're speechless. Muted. There is water behind your eyes.

"She said, "Tell her she looks beautiful. I know she will be. She needs to be reminded."" How is such a woman alive? What did you do to deserve to be treated in such a way? In this moment, you are not your own anymore, you are undeniably and utterly hers.

The decision is made before you can even question yourself.

"Thank you Izel, you will go prepapre a horse and supplies for the trip. Take two guards with you but no more. I am to meet you at the doors of Polis shortly. We are to leave at the earliest convenience. Do not speak of this to anyone, do you understand?"

He nods his head once, and you see approval in his eyes. It feels incredibly comforting. It feels 's gone before you have the time to open the doors of the meeting room again.

You take long and confident strides, drowned in questions, pleas and orders.

"Hosh op!"

You marvel at the authority in your voice when every last of them quiet down.

"It has been brought to my attention that the plans to take down the leader of Skaikru has advanced. They are to free the people that are against him and the order is NOT to attack those that will be freed, despite the kill order. Those are NOT enemies, and everyone that will willingly surrender and join our ranks will be spared from the kill order."

Gasps and murmurs of protests starts to grow once more. You don't let it disturb you. You must be efficient. You must be quick, because your heart is already on its way.

"I will be joining the camp of the army to look over the plan, as it has been clear that an attack were to be expected. However, I will go alone, the journey has already been arranged. Once he has fallen, Chancellor Pike will not be sentenced to death, but to exile." Louder protests. "The Skaikru will rejoin the coalition, however few they are and that is not up for questionning."

Voices don't raise, but it doesn't appease your mind. They're still here. It still seems like the loudest noise ever and it suffocates you. You try not to crumble because now they're on their feet.

They stop dead in their track though when an unexpected, yet not surprising voice rings loud and clear.

"I will not allow you to sacrifice your people to help Skaikru!"

Silence. Heavy and tense. Titus has spoken. Loud. Titus has ordered. You turn to him slowly. If you were angry before, what is this burning feeling low in your chest?

"I beg your pardon? Ai laik Heda! I give orders! I decide what is to allowed or not! You are in no position to allow me anything!" Your voice raises dangerously as you approach him and for the first time, you see regrets. "You are not to question any decision I make from now on, and are not advise me in any way until I demand your opinion. You are to adress me only when completely necessary, and never, ever, defy my authority again or the consequences will be unprecedented. Is it perfectly clear?"

He nods faintly, no colors in his face. But doesn't answer.

"Answer me!" You raise your voice again. The rage consumes you, irrationally, but he stepped over the line by a milestone and this behavior has gone around long enough.

"Yes, Heda, it is clear."

You turn to the rest of the room, still stunned and hanging to your every words.

"Nobody in this room will dare to speak to me in that way. Those are not light decisions. Those are not easy to make and they are made with a concept that goes beyond everything that we were being taught for generations. Skaikru has attacked us, just as we attacked them. Wiping them out will not end this. It will bring a slight pause and another war will come along. More people will die. How many of you have lost children, fathers, husbands, brothers, in battles. How many were taken by the Moutain Men? Need I remind you that Skaikru freed them, and we profited that. It is time that we erase what has been done in the past, leaving it to rest as history. What this could bring, is knowledge, peace, the guarantee that your children and grandchildren could live long and happy lives. Skaikru can bring us better medicine, new techniques. Better ways to defend ourselves. Education, knowledge. Technology. We can help each others. We can be better together, rather than tear at each others and waste lives unecessarily. Don't you want life to be about more than just surviving? Instead of going from one war to another?"

Nobody respond. You feel like you couldn't give them a better explanation. You know they understand, but it is hard to overcome the fear of the unknown. Of what could happen and the uncertainty of things you don't understand.

"I will not be sorry for trying to show my people a better life. I will not be sorry for wanting better, and more. And I will certainly not stand by as people try to force their ways into my decisions."

You turn to Titus at this. It is meant for him and every person in this room know this. There's no sound. It is not the last of the discussion, you know it. Some people will fight more, ambassadors will object. But not for now. What happened a minute ago will buy you enough time to end this for the time being, then you'll be able to show them the way.

You're out the doors and on your horse in half an hour. Titus can take care of the rest. He has much to redeem himself for. You hurry, Izel and the two guards on your tail. There's no time to waste when the pull in your chest gets stronger. Midway though, you must take a break, after four hours of riding, the horses need to drink and rest. In the hour that you take, you write. To Clarke. It feels like a final letter and you know you'll have to give it to her yourself. It is long, and deep. Everything you need and want to say to her. You know you will have to wait for the right moment to let her read it. When will that be you don't know.

Night has fallen when you go back on your horse. Maybe, you'll be able to be there a little after midnight. The air on your face keeps you grounded. A sharp reminder that you did this. You took this decision. It feels like it was for you. But you know you must go to ensure Clarke's safety. The one of your army. There is a war coming you know it and it won't be one if the Commander is not there. You will not fail Clarke this time. You will not let her carry the outcome of this one. You will fight at her side. You won't stand by and watch her take all the crushing decisions.

A few miles from camp, you can see the fires. You decide to finish on foot, you don't want to make an appearance right away. It would cause too much discraction. You will slip into camp without being seen.

"Izel, go ahead without me. Let Indra know that I'll be arriving shortly. Tell her that I am here to supervise the blockade and the evacution, and here to guide the ranks in case it would come to battle. I'll slip in camp so as to not cause any disruption in the planning."

He goes with the two guards and you go on more slowly, taking a slightly different turn. Your heart stop gradually when you are able to decipher a silhouette less than a few feets away. You get off your horse slowly. Blonde hairs are falling down and she seems peaceful. You feel like you can breathe again. You attach the horse to a tree, you'll come get it later. Maybe you and Clarke can ride it together to camp. There's a funny feeling in your stomach at the tought. You decide that you like it.

You try and be a noiseless as you can be. And let's be real, you're the Commander. You know how to not make noise. You can't believe it's real. She's standing here, in the quiet of the night. Eyes closed. You're overwhelmed. You're trancended. You're in love.

You go up behind her, breathing in her scent. And when you face her, you see tears. God, she's beautiful. Your body feels like a feather, it feels light and alive, and free. Soaring aimlessly into the gentle breeze of the night.

"You look rather beautiful too, Clarke." It's all you can say. All you can do. When her eyes open you realize you are proven wrong. She can be even more beautiful. You get lost in blue and decide that from now on it will be your absolute favorite. More tears fall, you reach to wipe them away. As soon as your hand touch her face, there's no more pretending. Your walls have been down since you saw her, and they're not coming back up. You lean in quickly.

When your lips are reacquainted, in force and passion, you feel like you are whole again. It feels like you had been missing a limb, an organ. Something wasn't right and now it is. Now, everything falls into place, gripping her face between your hands, feeling hers gripping your arms, your hips, your coat, your hair. You kiss her so hard that it hurts physically. It has only been two days. Two days in hell, and you swear to yourself, you make yourself promise that you will never leave her side again.

You pull back, foreheads touching, sharing deep breaths, giving each others the oxygen that has touched your heart. Chests heaving, you forget the world for a minute, and let it sink in that her hair underneath your fingers and the tears falling on your knuckles are not your imagination. When the space between your bodies becomes to much, you slip your hands around her waist and pull her in. Tight. Head hidden in necks, arms around neck and silent sights of relief are louder than words.

You grip her. Encircle her. You need to be as one. "You're here" She breathes against your skin and the words slide on it, colour it.

"I couldn't stay away." You breathe back. "I couldn't stay away from you." Truest words never left your mouth.

Her forehead is against yours again, and her lips hover over your own. You don't kiss her right away, she doesn't either. You just take it all in. You just feel.

When you do kiss her again though, it's slower but oh so glorious. Because this is kiss is not filled with goodbyes and what-ifs. It's filled with only love and affection, with respect. You don't know how long you kiss her, all open-mouth, languid strokes of each others tongues that feels far too good to be true, but at one point, you know you have to stop. There's still a mission to accomplish here.

"Come on, we must go back to camp."

Hand in hers you walk her to the horse and when she hops on, extend her hands for you to take the place behind her, you feel like screaming with joy. You don't show it, though. You wouldn't hear the end of it.

The ride to camp is short and silent, nothing more than a few minutes, and all too soon, her warmth is gone. Reaching Indra's tent is quite easy. People have been warned you would come so no one is surprised to see you. Good. Right into business.

She greets you with a nod and a strange look, while Octavia is sporting a light smirk, and you have no idea of its meaning. You don't have time to ask anyway.

"Indra, Octavia. What is the situation?"

"While you were on your way, Kane contacted us. He believes it would be more safe and easy to start evacuating now. Create small groups of three to five people and letting them take the hidden passage. This way, we could sneak out people throughout this night and tomorrow with a clear appreciation of guard watch. It'd be less risky, and noticeable. He is waiting on our approval."

You look at Clarke pointedly, while Indra gets your warpaint, and start applying it. Drastic situations call up for drastic measures.

"I agree, it's a good plan. Gathering this many people in one place would be too suspicious and it'll be too complicated. Are they ready?"

"Yeah, more people have joined the movement but it's still not enough so, we're sticking with evacuation. Those who wants to stay knows what they're getting themselves into." Octavia chimes in. "I couldn't get to Bellamy, he hasn't left Pike's side since we came back from Arkadia."

"They know we are planning something, people are talking. The faster we act the better, tension is rising."

You look at Clarke again. You expect her to say something, but she's looking at your now painted face with something you haven't seen since she left Polis. It triggers something inside you. You can't look away, because you know what she's thinking.

You don't hear Octavia clear her throat, but Clarke is the first to break eye contact. There's a click, a voice coming from the radio. It's Kane, you recognize it. But you don't understand what he is saying. Only Clarke exists and each time she looks at you, she has this look. It's want. Hunger. Thirst. This is not a time to have such thoughts, and you try to block them. You don't want to think of her naked body against yours. You don't want to think of the skin of her neck, where you can clearly see the blood pumping from here.

Octavia is gone, she went to get the firsts to come out of Arkadia. Indra is talking with Kane still. Clarke comes to stand next to you, around the table where a plan of Arkadia has been drawn-by her and it is beautiful-and your shoulders touch. It is too much already.

You feel a single finger starts to trace patterns on your hand. It's a light touch, but it burns your hand. It burns so good that you want to beg for more. But Indra is still very much at the other side of the table, oblivious. You reach out and soon, both yours hands discover the other. Tips of fingers cross the palm of a hand, then the back, learn each and every curve of said hand. It makes you remember places where it has been. Places it has touched. When it rested between you, in the most intimate part of her body, greedy, and forever unsatisfied, pleading for more.

You make an unthinkable mistake then, you turn your head slowly and look at her, watching you with pure desire. Her hand feels like liquid heat against yours and you must do something. Indra doesn't even seem to need you anyway. Everything seems under control. You take a step back, puff your chest, and clear your throat.

"Clarke, may I speak with you privately?"

"Certainly, Commander."

Oh, she is dangerous. You swallow hard. Provocation is Clarke's best attire. A dark look crosses your feature when your eyes find hers again and she passes you, her shoulders, arms and hands purposely touching you.

Indra shoots you a look but doesn't request anything else and you nod before following the fiery blonde. She starts to go to her tent but you can't risk anyone coming in. You grab her arm forcefully but carefully, and change direction. You walk fast, patience is the last thing on your mind. You must have her. Now.

Five minutes into the forest, you stop and face her, short breath, and she lunges for your lips without preamble. God, this woman is going to kill you one day. You back her up until her back hits a tree, and you press yourself into her. You need her. Instantly you kiss down her neck, gripping at her sides, eager to touch everything she has to offer.

"Why did you put on your warpaint, don't you know what it does to me?"

"I do now."

You bite her neck, press open-mouthed kisses, and mark her. This ressembles nothing that happened last time you touched her. There is a raw desire to feel her, it's rough and fast, and good. She's pulling at your hair, clawing at your skin, breathing hard against your ear.

"We shouldn't do this now, Lexa."

"I do not care." Hands slipping underneath her shirt will hopefully shut her up. It doesn't.

"I thought we had to think with our head and not our heart." Oh, she wants to tease. She doesn't know two can play that game. You grab at her thighs, effectively pulling her from the ground and trapping her between the tree and you.

"I am not thinking with either of these things right now, Clarke." You breathe her name in her mouth, and grind her hips into her for emphasis. You swallow the whimper that escapes her lips. It tastes delicious in your mouth. Legs are wrapped around you in seconds and with eyes blackening she presses her hips against yours in response, a breathy "Oh god" escaping her.

Your hands are back underneath her shirt, and you claw at the skin of her abs. They're defined, so deliciously tightening for your fingers.

She taste like the food of gods, the skin of her neck is so warm and exotic. She offers it, head thrown back. The invite is so tempting, who are you to deny it? All your body is in flames, consumed by this unsatiable want. You grab her backside to give you leverage, and grind into her, again and again. It's glorious, the sounds that leaves her mouth, only for you to witness, to absorb.

"I want you." You breathe in her neck, it ends with a moan. You're not in control of yourself anymore. You can't be held accountable for what is transpiring here.

"Take me, Lexa." Oh, may the spirits of the pasts commanders have mercy on your soul, for all the thoughts that cross your mind should be enough to have you burnt on the spot. "Take what's yours."

You're done for. You're gone, too far gone, so much that you think nobody will ever be able to find you again. She sure knows how to push your buttons. On their own volition, your hands fly to the buttons of her jeans and tear it open. You need to be inside her, and mark her soul. When your fingers touch her heat you both moan, one from relief and one from pleasure. She breathes in your ear harder and harder, panting, whispering words of sins.

"Touch me." She says as one of her hand reaches behind her to grab at the tree, that she uses to press herself more fully, completely arching up into you.

"Fuck me." She says when you're finally knuckles deep inside of her, and the angle of your wrist is awkward but it's so right, this kind of torture is a blessing in disguise.

"Own me, Leksa, possess me." She says when you thrusts with your whole body, furiously. You are in another world, one that is only made of her body, her intoxicating scent, all that is her.

She doesn't speak after that, she can only moan, loudly, more loudly than ever. Her name leaves you lips countless times, as you continue to invade her body in all the right ways. She's loving it, but you might be loving it more. You've never felt this kind of power before, you've never let yourself go like this. You're sure that her nails are drawing blood in the back of your neck, and it feels amazing.

You pull your head back from her neck, and you watch her, this goddess fallen from the stars. Her chest is heaving with the deepest, quickest of breaths, mouth opened that creates loud noises of paradise, she's as gone as you. She's lost now, and you feel her clenching around your fingers. When she comes she stops breathing, screaming, moving, waves after waves of pleasure wrecking her beautiful features. You didn't think it was possible but you fell in love with her again right there. You failed to keep count for it happened too many times now. You will never stop falling in love with her.

It lasts moments, and for long minutes, your only move are the gentle thrusts that are gradually slowing. You want to go again, you want to drop to your knees and take her again, ravish her and love on her all night but you can't. Those are ideas you keep for another time. When she opens her eyes, you remove your fingers but keep her in your arms, and just watch her watch you. She has a smile and hasn't regain her breath yet.

"I love you." You say reverently like you hadn't just took her up against a tree seconds ago. In your current mind, you think about proving it, and the only thing you think of is bringing your fingers to your mouth and tasting her. Her mouth drops open. You see shock in her eyes, it goes along with arousal, surprise, love. She kisses you, of course she does. For a minute there you think you've lost your resolve and will just make love to her again and never stop, but she pulls back and takes your head between her hands.

"Jesus, god. Lexa. Let me down before I beg that you take me again."

Are you supposed to let her down now? But you sight and do it anyway. You redo her pants and take a step back. There really isn't any time. You walk back to camp in silence, smiles on your face, and for a few minutes, you don't think about war. You only think about happiness and heated moments against the trunk of a tree.

"I love you, too."

She says before entering camp, kisses the back of your hands. You both smile like kids. Her head dips down, even in the night you see her cheeks reddening, much like yours that feels warm against the cool night hair. You wish that life could be like this more often.

Unfortunately, this thought is cut in its heart by reality, that is coming back to bite you right in the jugular. A male voice is approaching and you recognize Bellamy. He has a terrified look in his eyes. And a gun. In swift movements, you put Clarke behind you, sheltering her and draw the knife that is tucked in your boot.

"Clarke! Clarke you have to help, I fucked up!" He sounds desperate.

"Stand back!" You scream, but Clarke is pushing you.

"What is it Bell, what are you doing here?!" He is pleading with his eyes to understand when she approaches him and you can hear movement around you. It doesn't feel good. At all.

"I didn't know what to do. I saw you earlier with Octavia, I thought you were going to attack us. I told Pike and he had guards waiting at the passage. He took her Clarke, he's going to kill her! You can't let him do that!"

He's crying now, and you want to pity him. But the situation just took a bad turn.

"Bellamy, where is Pike now?"

"He's coming for you, Clarke. He's coming now.."

You need to move fast.

"Indra!" You scream, you need to get to her, you need to gather forces. But first you grab him and put your knife on his throat. "You are going to tell me all you know about his plan of attack, what weapon he has, what is his strategy, or I will end your life right now."

Clarke has her hand on your forearm in seconds.

"Lexa, stop. He's going to help us. We'll get Octavia, but you have to help us, Bell."

He nods, still crying. You go, but you know they are behind, following. Once you've reached Indra's tent, you put on an armor and order your guards to find one for Clarke. You gather swords, knifes, that you put all around your and her body while you listen to Bellamy and try to assess all the informations. They are coming just before dawn. Meaning in less than an hour. But if you leave now, you can take away their element of surprise.

"Indra, contact Kane. Tell them we need them to open the fence. We're attacking now."

"Lexa, we can't do that our people are still inside!" You tremble when she says our. Like there's no distinction anymore. What belongs to her belongs to you. "We are not those people anymore that will fight at any chance we get. Let's march there and demand a negotiation. Buy ourselves more time."

"Clarke, an army armed with guns is marching on this camp as we speak, I cannot just kneel before Arkadia and demand mercy. I will not."

"You're not, alright? I'll go!"

"Absolutely not, you are not leaving my side."

The wall is here. You're at the bottom. What do we do now? You need to think. Clarke is right. You can't assault first. You can't let them come to you. You need to save the people inside Arkadia. You're running out of time. You need a plan, now.

Suddenly a voice in the radio break free, hurried and breathless.

"Come in, this is Abby kom Skaikru!"

Clarke jumps on the radio and you want to erase the worry on her face.

"Mom, it's me, it's Clarke."

"Clarke, we got Octavia, Kane was able to knock down the guards with Miller. We've managed to gather our people in the hospital wing, things are crazy here. More people are starting to rebel but they're being emprisoned, and sentenced to death. Their army is getting ready to march on the blockade!"

Bellamy breathe a long, heavy sight of relief at the mention of Octavia's name. But you're worried because she's still in there, with Kane, and Clarke's mom, and Raven, and so many people you wish you could save.

"Okay, but can't you go? Can't you escape? We'll be ready when they come!"

"Our people are safe, don't worry. I locked them in the hospital wing. Nobody can get in. Kane, Raven, Sinclair, Jasper, Octavia and I are going to try and get away, Miller got us weapons. He and Monty are coming with the army, they'll turn on them when the attack begins."

"Mom, no, please! This is too dangerous. Stay in the hospital please, we'll come and get you."

"No you need the weapons, we need to get to you. Don't you worry about me now, honey. Stay safe."

"She will be, Abby. I'm here, I'll protect her." You say, because she needs to know that her daughter will be cared for and protected like no other.

"Good, thank you Lexa. I need to go now. I love you, Clarke." And the line clicks shut.

"Mom! Mom.." She grabs and shake the radio, and you want to comfort her but there is no time. You have an idea. You need to move now.

"Clarke, she will be okay. We need to gather up."

Indra is already outside, and the army is gathered. Getting ready. Bellamy is at your side.

"Bellamy, will you be joining our ranks in the upcoming battle?" He nods fiercely, his face is full of remorse, of apologies. He can be useful, he has weapons. But you're nowhere near ready to trust him.

"Give me your gun." Say Clarke fiercely, and she doesn't even wait for him to reply before grabbing it from it's holster. "You stay with us, we're the only ones with guns and they will come in handy."

You turn to the army.

"Armies of the 12 clans! Chancellor Pike's men are marching on our camp as we speak! However, thanks to Bellamy we now have the advantage of this knowledge! We will reverse the element of surprise on them and to do so, we are going to hide in the surroundings area. Let them come to us! Be ready!"

Everything moves fast after that. You grab Clarke, give orders here and there. Place your archers in the best spots you can find. Time is running short and you can see the electric lights coming this way. They are coming.

You heart is beating. You're hiding behind a large trunk, Clarke a few feet away, lying on her stomach, gun ready to shoot. You don't want this war but you have no choice, you must defend yourselves. This is a small army, yes, but they are far better armed than you. You hope with all your heart that they will arrive at camp, see nobody, and go back. But they won't. You're all hidden at the very end of it, hidden in the dark of the night. Some are in trees, others on the ground. Some are just behind bushes, knives ready to be thrown. But everybody has orders. Do not attack first.

The air is tense. You can hear them coming, the soft glow of the camp not that far. You can see some of them, weapons raised, ready to shoot. You wait. You wait. Several moments of tension hangs until a cracking sound is heard and immediately following, several gunshots. And this is it.

It all becomes a blur, like it always is in war and you're vaguely aware of arrows taking down several of their men before you turn from the tree and launch your knife into another man's throat. You run before lauching yourself on the ground. You can't afford to being vulnerably exposed. You hear shouting and see several of your people fall. You don't have time to feel for them. Clarke is firing, one, two, three times. Archers are doing a far greater job at this, and soon, Pike's army is shooting in the air, allowing you use your speed to take one down with a knife, he was just there. You grab his gun and launch it at Clarke. Before running in the direction of another. Nothing is protecting you from the bullets that may come your way but you figure that a moving target is a difficult one to shoot.

So you don't stop moving, and you focus only on taking people down. You move fluidly, you know that years of trainings and battles have made you an incredible warrior. The best of them. In the distance you hear Octavia shouting. They made it. Good. More guns for you. You see Clarke at the corner of your eyes shooting the massive gun several times. A few men fall again. Their army is weakening. You have the upper hand. You might win this thing. You continue to fight, and you're like water. Fluid. People don't have time to see you before you hit them. You try not kill them if you can avoid it. You knock them down, injure their legs, take their guns. You know Clarke is doing the same. It's not smart, because they could easily kill you just the same even on the ground. But you're tired of the growing weight of death that grips your throat with guilt.

There's so few of them now, they were so underprepared. We are too many. We were well informed. Soon you find refuge behind a tree, dodging a bullet, and realize that you can't see Clarke anywhere. You lost her. You run around, panick fueling your movements. You don't care about the bullets anyway. There's smoke, the camp caught fire, surely because of the candles, and the fire. The red lighting is matching the colour of the sky. Sun is rising.

"Clarke!" You call. You pass injured people and dead ones. Your hear guns being fired. You're scared.

Soon enough you find her, she's standing, gun raised. Everything has quieted down apart from a few gunshot. She's talking with a bald man, and you know it must be him. It's Pike. They seem to be alone. You know she doens't want to kill him, she'll do it only if she has to. Everything stand stills. You're running to her, and the gun pointed at her does not inspire good things. You've almost reached her when you see her pressing the trigger of her gun before realizing with horror that it did not fire. And just as you're near, you grab her arm before hearing the sound of another gun that has successfully been fired.

You grabbed her in time, you think smiling. You did it. She wasn't in the path of the bullet. You barely register another sound of gunshot. The sound of a body hitting the ground. Clarke's voice screaming. You're still smiling when reality hits you. Clarke wasn't in the bullet's path. You were.