Chapter 2
In Polis, months later, trying to reach out to her in a way Lexa couldn't bear to, Costia found Clarke in the rooms that were given her, hitting the walls in rage, tears of frustration once again running down her cheeks, it was all she could do to apologize and say that when she meant she wished her to forgive, she never wished for her to experience this pain first hand.
This woman she barely knew was standing in front of her, trying to offer her sympathy and comfort, and Clarke wished she could hate her, and Lexa, more; wished she did not want to just throw herself in Costia's arms for a comfort she should not be allowed. All she could think of were her words on the Mountain, contrasting Lexa's by their softness, assuring her that she wished for none of this. It would have been so easy to cave in, to burrow into a warm embrace... But Clarke could not afford this. She might crumble at the simplest touch now. And forgiving Costia was one step too close to forgiving Lexa, one step too close to forgiving herself. She could never. Three hundred lives, innocents, kids among them, their bodies distorted by pain. How could she? She could hardly forgive herself for sleeping at night, almost felt guilty when she did not wake up from nightmares.
She snapped instead, finding the smallest reason to get angry at Lexa: "she had you bring me food?! So you're her servant now?" It was so much harder to do this, to see the pain in Costia's eyes, but Clarke did not deserve this, she did not deserve anything easy, anything good. Not after what she had done. They did not deserve her kindness either, not after what they'd made her do.
Costia paled, but she snapped back, "I'm no-one's servant, I brought you this because I wanted to. Because I worry. We worry."
"Yeah, well, she should have worried three months ago before leaving me alone to die against the Mountain. It's too late now. You and your food can just go away!" Clarke yelled.
Costia turned back slowly, leaving the plate of food she'd brought in right where it was. "Like I said, I'm no-one's servant. I take orders from no-one." She breathed out, then said in a softer tone, as if she'd decided she was above such a fight: "Lexa and I are equals. She... We both wished you to be our... equal too, before... if there had been any other choice. She's obeying your wish to be left alone but she suffers too. From every friend's death at the Mountain, every innocent life lost at TonDC and since she became Heda. From the knowledge of what her actions forced you to do. Don't pretend it was easy for her. You know like I do that she cares. It's all she's ever been doing all her life. She bears the losses, it's just that she cares for the living more. She'll bear that burden for you if you allow it.”
When she left, Clarke felt even more lonely than she had in the past three months.
“How is she?” Lexa asked, tense, when Costia got back to their rooms.
Costia sighed and sat at the edge of their bed. “You should really go and see for yourself.”
“What is that, doctor-patient privilege?” Lexa grinned.
“This is far beyond my capacities as a healer, you know it,” Costia sighed again.
“You generally do a great job at lifting my spirits”, Lexa tried to joke, but she did not feel like it either.
“She won't even talk to me other than to yell.”
Something flared in Lexa's eyes, and catching it Costia amended: “Nothing she's not within her rights to say. She's pissed, as should be expected. And she hates herself. And us. But you need to talk to her, there's nothing more I can do.”
“She spit at me!” Lexa tried to be angry, but her voice wavered. Of course Costia noticed – she always did – and pulled her closer. “If she yells even at you, what makes you think...”
“Nothing. But I think she needs that, if she ever wants to let go.”
“So are you suggesting I let her use me as her punching ball?” Lexa tried not to smile. Trust Costia to come up with that kind of ideas.
“Something like that, yeah.”
If Clarke did not spit at her so literally this time, she had enough words to throw at Lexa to make up for it. The Commander didn't expect it to be any different. She would have been surprised, disappointed, maybe, even, had Clarke not tried to put up a fight. She would not be blamed entirely for what she had done, however. She regretted the pain she caused her but she did not regret her action, and she would do it all over again if she had to. To save herself, to save her people. As much as she loved Clarke – she had to admit it to herself – she was not her people. She was not a priority. Yet. That would change, in time, if Lexa had any say in the matter.
It had been a week since Clarke had arrived, a week since she'd asked to be left alone. And in spite of Costia's efforts, she had not relented in her refusal to see her, until Lexa had had just about enough. So they did fight, but at much as it pained Lexa to hear all that Clarke had to say to her, she could feel that Costia had been right. It was something that Clarke needed – something that they needed: as much as they all knew they'd had to act as they did, anger and distrust was still there, and there was no point in letting it fester. Not if she hoped, as she did, to build something more solid with Clarke. For the good of their nations, that is. A political alliance, nothing more. Anything else was probably beyond repair, whatever Costia's hopes on the matter may be.
She let the offer hang in the air, in spite of Clarke's refusal.
When she saw Lexa alone next, Clarke pressed a knife to her throat. But then as those eyes stared back at her, she could not bring herself to do it. It wasn't just that she did not hate her as much as she thought, it wasn't that she still felt pulled towards her. But she could not have that blood on her hands. She could not inflict that pain, not just to Lexa – she did not care that she would die herself for her crime, but she refused to bring pain to all those who cared about Lexa, who cared about Clarke herself. The pain she had seen in Jasper after she'd killed everyone in the bunker, after she'd killed Maya who'd helped them and whom he loved. After she'd killed those children. The pain that had made Anya fall to the ground when they'd exited the dropship and she'd been confronted to the ashes of her dead warriors and friends. She could not inflict that pain to Costia. She could not inflict that pain to her mother, and Octavia and Bellamy who still loved her even though she had not seen them in months: she could not let herself be executed and let them suffer because she could not handle the pain anymore. It'd be so much easier. Clarke had never gone the easier way. In her experience, that way always failed.
And Lexa was still in front of her, staring at her, not trying to escape her knife or looking away, even though she probably could have kicked her ass long ago. Leaving herself at Clarke's mercy. Trusting somehow that Clarke would not do this, or accepting her fate if she did. And Clarke refused to show her weakness, refused to let the tears flow – until Lexa apologized and it was all she could do to drop the knife.
She could hardly believe herself when she offered to stay and ally herself with Lexa.
They were in the middle of the summit when they were interrupted, and Costia could see the concern in Lexa's eyes as they all took in the news about Mount Weather – another blow to Clarke, lives she could not protect.
She knew it was all Lexa could do not to rush to her. It was all Clarke could do not to seize the closest weapon and go kill the Ice Queen herself. Costia felt helpless, but there was not much she could do for either of them. She was a healer, not a politician and not a fighter, but even she could feel the Ice Queen would have an advantage on them now. Lexa's place would be threatened if the other clans had even the slightest doubts about where her loyalties lied, and that night's creation of a Thirteen Clan had given them just that.
Much the same had happened when Lexa had gone all out against the Ice Nation to save her, and it had been a close call. Lexa's sparing of the Ice Queen, while a gesture for peace, had been seen by many as a sign of weakness. There were whisperings already that Lexa had that same weakness for Clarke, and Costia heard them and could not deny their truth. But whatever would happen, would happen regardless of anyone's feelings. The only way forward was together. The only way forward was for Clarke to trust them. But Lexa knew that, and Costia knew that she would make the right decision, as she did when she suggested the alliance.
When Lexa kneeled down in front of Clarke that night, Costia smiled from the shadows. She was the only other person she'd ever seen Lexa kneel for. And she knew, they all knew, that it was more than a vow of fealty that was spoken between them. More than an effort to mend broken trust. And Clarke's extended hand felt like hope.