“You bitch! You wanted the Commander of Death? You’ve got her. I’ll kill you!”
Wanheda. Commander of Death. All-powerful, deadly and calculating, or so legend says. But the girl who knelt in front of me only moments before was much more than any legend my people could understand. Clarke Griffin’s threat lingers in the long hallways and her screams echo in my mind as my warriors pull her down into the dungeons. I did not want things to be this way, but I had no choice. Because she was Wanheda, I could not keep her in my personal quarters for fear of igniting a war with the Ice Nation. Because I was Heda, I could not show anyone my supposed tenderness for the girl I had left behind at the Mountain. Because we were who we were, I could not show any weakness. I had not seen Clarke since that day at the Mountain, and I had braced myself for what to expect. I had thought she would be civil, since we both knew what great lengths we would go to sacrifice ourselves for our people. I thought her actions at the Mountain and the sacrifice she made for her people would help her understand my own intentions as well. I was wrong.
But she was here, she was alive, and she was real, even if she was still Wanheda. When she had stood in front of me, I had forgotten who I was. I forgot who we were meant to be. For a moment, I was not Heda, but someone else, someone more primeval. Someone I had not been for a long time.
I’ll kill you. I know many men who would do the same, and I remember moments when I had agreed with them. But when I pulled the gag out of her mouth as gently as I could, the world had stopped. I wish I could live in that moment forever, before the glance in her eyes changed from cautious to pure hatred. I could live with caution; I had done it many times before. Chaos and uncertainty, I could contend with, but not hatred. Seeing her barely conscious with bruises and scars and blood coating her body brought back an anger within me I had not felt for some time. Because she was mine. I tried to not think of the one they called Wanheda kneeling before me as mine, but against my better judgement, I had let my weakness show in front of Roan. In front of my enemies. But I could not have had Wanheda, Clarke, fall into the hands of the Ice Nation. They used to call her Princess. And even though Clarke was no longer mine and in her mind, she had never been, I could not let her be caught by the queen of Azgeda . I had been horribly wrong to think Clarke of the Sky People thought the same as I did. I had been foolish to think I could conceal my feelings towards the girl for long, until I was forced to choose between her and my people. But I had made that choice once before, and I had made the wrong one, putting myself before my people. I wasn’t going to make that mistake again. Hodnes laik kwelnes, or so I had thought.
“Heda.”
Indra’s gruff voice comes from behind me, and I walk away from the window I had been staring out of to face her, keeping my features emotionless. She may know about Wanheda, but she wants to pretend I do not feel the way I do about Clarke.
“The Sky People are here. They want to speak with you.” Her eyes show nothing, but I can tell she is guarded. I am a bit taken aback, but not surprised. It had only been a matter of time, and they must have broken our treaty and hidden in the woods outside our camp to hear Wanheda’s cries. Ever since we cut contact with the Sky People, suddenly having them appear on our doorstep would create tension within our own camp. It is not something I want to deal with right now.
But I am Heda, and I have to protect my people. Even if I have to sacrifice myself.
…
Bellamy of the Sky People stands in front of me, smelling like a goat. There were rumors circulating that he had dressed up like Azgeda, and from the looks of it, he had not done a thorough job. White paint was plastered to his face, yes, but patches of mud and old scars gave away his true lineage. I put a hand up, halting his bothersome speech, which had gone on for a while. He had petitioned to see Clarke, and I would comply, if only he would be quiet.
“Bring Wanheda to us.” My warriors leave the room a moment later, and I excuse myself as well. As I leave, Indra puts an arm out to steady me, and I can see the warning in her eyes. Don’t make any wrong moves, Heda.
I say those words to myself as I walk behind the four warriors tasked with restraining Wanheda, down to the dungeons where I had put her. For all of the blame could be put onto me, and I would gladly take all of it, if only to have Clarke understand.
The dungeon was silent, and the only sounds I heard were the warriors’ footsteps on the hard stone and my own, echoing theirs. Clarke was in the corner of the last cell, huddled up. As soon as we neared, however, she straightened up and turned around to meet my gaze, as though she knew I would be there. Her eyes showed no sign of tears or pain, only anger and bloodlust. Wanheda, indeed.
I could only hope her bloodlust was not meant for me, but I had been wrong about her so many times before.
“Hod op. I need to speak with the… prisoner. Leave us for now.” I don’t meet the warriors’ eyes, but they stop untying Clarke’s bindings and stand up to leave the cell. Once they are out of earshot at the opposite side of the dungeon, I look down at Clarke and kneel to meet her gaze.
“Clarke. Chon yu bilaik?” I whisper as I slowly untie her gag, a more humane one than Roan had given her. Before she can say or do anything in response, I put my hand over her mouth, gently but forcefully, making her look me in the eyes. “Clarke. You are not Wanheda. We both know that. Yu gonplei ste odon. I don’t to fight with you, nor with your people, not anymore. There is too much at stake, as you must know.”
I take a slow breath and look at Clarke, and I have to stop myself from brushing a stray lock of hair that has fallen over her eyes. I see that nothing has changed in her expression than that of rage, but that doesn’t change my mind. I did not expect her to go calmly, not after what happened only hours earlier. She was not herself, I could tell. It only made me wonder what she had gone through in the weeks she had been alone.
“I want your people to become my people, Clarke. They are waiting upstairs for you, and you have to give them an answer, and I advise you to choose the right one. Bow to me in front of your people, or you will never win.”
At this, Clarke wrestles out from under my hands and glares at me with pure hatred. Her voice is rough from all her screams, but she still maintains as much dignity as she can, pulling herself up as far as she can within the constraints of her bonds. “I would never bow to you.”
This hurts more than anything else she could have said. I know I should say something else, bring back a bitter retort to shock her, show her I am as callous towards her as she is to me. But I cannot, for I would be lying to myself. Instead, I turn away and will myself to not show any signs of weakness, and steady my voice as I walk towards my warriors and tell them to bring her upstairs. I do not flinch as Clarke walks behind me, struggling against the hands of my warriors. I do not cry out as her feet pound the stairs above my head, causing rubble to settle around me. I do not look up as I wonder how she began to hate me so deeply, as she is escorted in front of her people and I follow many strides behind, hiding in the shadows for one last moment of ignorant peace before I have to face the war I created.
…
The room is silent as I make my way in between the two very different groups of people, mine on the left and the Sky People on the right. My cloak catches on hard stones and misplaced feet as I try to keep my mind off of what is waiting for me behind the door closest to my throne. Clarke is silent as well, making no noise even though I know she is no longer gagged.
“Bring her in.”
The door is opened as soon as I have given the command, and Wanheda steps out and walks towards me. I couldn’t see it around the black grime of the dungeons, but her face looks fuller and more expressive than I have ever seen it, but that expression has not changed. I wonder how she found shelter and safe havens while in hiding from Azgeda, but I cannot dwell on it. I have to deal with the problem at hand. I stand up as she walks closer. As soon as she is near me, I realize she must have run out of the confining room, because the guards are nowhere near her. As she walks towards me, something metallic glints from behind her head. An even more pronounced hush surrounds the room, and dread settles in the pit of my stomach as she stops to face me, less than a foot away.
Suddenly, she pulls the knife from behind her and pushes it against my neck. Chaos erupts in the throne room and as Clarke advances, my heartbeat becomes faster and I can feel panic blossom throughout my whole body, electrifying me and causing me to stumble on the seat of the throne, as I sit back down in a rush.
I hold up my hand to signal my warriors to stand down as they make a move to take Clarke off of me. “No. Ai gonplei kamp raun em en nou moun.”
Clarke’s sky blue eyes hold my attention, and a kind of lighted frenzy uncharacteristic of her flashes behind her eyes. I can barely comprehend why she has me cornered like this, right now. All I can see is the ghost of the expression she wore right before I revealed my feelings for her for the first time, right before I kissed her. Right before I acted upon one of my worst regrets and ultimately made the hardest choice I would have to make as a commander.
“What do you think you are doing?” My voice comes out more measured than I would have thought, and I am more level-headed than I would have otherwise given myself credit for. Clarke, on the other hand, is shaking, either from rage or panic, and I can tell that it is taking everything within her to not kill me as I sit helpless on my own throne.
“I will never bow to you.” She grits her teeth, but a flash of uncertainty crosses her face as she looks down at the knife against my throat. She looks anywhere but my eyes now, not willing to make any familiar contact. I know this side of her, even though I had not seen it for some time. It is not a welcome sight for me. "You cannot be so stupid to think that I would bow to you.”
“Shof op, Wanheda.” Indra’s voice rings out across the throne room, making me shiver. Indra knows that Clarke will do nothing to endanger her people, but right now, this is not the Clarke I remember. I stare back at Indra to let her know this is my battle alone and I must fight it. Clarke, however, only tightens her grip on the knife’s handle and my arm. For a moment, she looks back at the crowd and I do the same to see them gathered to watch my downfall, at the hands of someone I no longer know. I wish they did not have to witness this. I set my mouth into a hard line, and meet Clarke’s watchful gaze. I will not back down from her, and I do not wish to. I only wish we could have resolved this beforehand, out of sight of all of my warriors.
“You don’t seem so strong now, Heda.” Her eyes glance down at my neck once again, her voice dripping with contempt. Her grip tightens once again, and I start to feel light-headed, but I do not let my fear show as I look down on her as best I can, sitting down below her.
Suddenly, as quickly as her hand moves from my arm to lace her fingers around my neck, a pounding sound resonates into the room from the front doors and every warrior is at attention, pointing their weapons towards the sound. As soon as the sound stops, the doors are forced open, and Roan is standing in the doorway looking murderous, a bow and arrow in his hands. His eyes find Wanheda and me in the center of the throng of people, and he glares at my warriors, a silent but immovable threat.
A chill settles into my bones as understanding rushes over me. I know what he wants to do. I knew his intentions the moment he set foot in my halls weeks ago, under the guise of agreeing to my deal. But I was too desperate to save the girl I wanted to call mine, I made a regrettable decision that he would now take advantage of. He knew of my weakness with a another girl I had once called mine, and he knew what he had to do to get me to comply to his own wishes. And now he was here to finish his mission.
“Who let him past the gates!” I yell, looking around the room. He must have slipped past my warriors while I was tending to Clarke. How could I have been so foolish to think I could balance my own feelings for Wanheda and the political implications of my prisoner's wellbeing? I have to act now, to correct this, before he makes any rash decisions against my people when the only person he has a fight with is me. While Clarke is distracted, I pull the knife out of her grasp and push her away from my throne, pulling her behind and next to me.
I know that I am making a horrible decision as a commander, but as who I am right in this moment, I have to do what my heart wants me to do. Clarke tenses behind me, and all of the rest of the world falls away. Now there is only one enemy, as I had warned her about before. If only the girl had heeded my words sooner.
“Jomp em op en yu jomp ai op.”
He laughs, a deep, groaning sound, his eyes never leaving the girl behind me. His words seem slurred. "Oh, I know, Heda. That is why I must do it.”
My warriors stand in front of me as Roan readies his bow and sets the arrow in place. He walks slowly, advancing on us as a predator to prey. I hold up my hand once again to signal for my warriors to stand down. I must do this alone. I may be ready at a moment’s notice to sacrifice myself, but I will not let Clarke die for me.
But as soon as I have thought this, Clarke stands in front of me, her eyes saying what she won’t say aloud. He wants me, not you.
I want to yell at her, to tell her to get behind me and let me finish this. She has spent too long as Wanheda, and it has changed something within her. I know that look in her eyes, that regret for something gone and past. I know I have that same look in my own eyes, and I need to avenge what was done years ago to the last person I dared to call mine. She needs to know that I care too much about her to let her take the fall for me like this. Instead, I brush past her without meeting her eyes for fear of breaking down in front of my enemy. I have been too strong for too long to break those walls down now. “Sef of, Wanheda.”
I keep an eye on Roan throughout this exchange, never taking my eyes off of his bow. I don’t trust Clarke to not run after him, especially in her current state, and I keep an arm out to stop her if she sprints ahead of me as I advance on the prince of Azgeda. He moves to pull back the bow as I get closer, but before he can set it against his cheek to steady it, Clarke’s knife is firm in my grip and I set it against his neck as a warning. “Taim yo gaf ge breik au, taim yo shof op.”
Now that I am closer to him, I can tell that his reactions are slowed considerably and his breath smells of alcohol. That must have been what caused him to run back to my camp and wage a useless war on me and me alone. I motion to my warriors to take away his weapons, and bind him. They do so quickly, and as he is dragged away, I look back at Clarke, who is now standing next to my throne, looking worn and tired. I know that I have slipped up as commander. I do not even need to look at Indra to know that I have made a grave mistake in front of both my people and Clarke’s, but I do not care. Clarke is safe, and that is all that matters to me. I know that this is not the end of this war, and that by no means will Clarke ever be mine again, but it is something. More than I thought I would be able to experience.
I walk over to Clarke, and without making any unnecessary contact with the girl, I talk to her as I would if I were simply the commander and not someone who wanted to be more to her.
“You will go down to the dungeons once again after this is all settled. Am I clear, Wanheda?”
I don’t wait for an answer as I snap at her, making sure my voice rings out around the throne room for all to hear. “Ai don as yu prom op.”
She looks up at me then, and her eyes no longer show signs of anger or bloodlust, only pain. Before I can reach out to her, she crumples to the floor beneath me and starts to cry softly. I wish it did not have to be this way. When I had told her she had to bow before me to win, I had not pictured this. I don’t want to show any perceived weakness, so I call for some of my warriors to come and help her up and take her down into the dungeons, once again. I hate to put her in this situation but my position as commander gives me no choice, and I hope some day she will see that. I hope that some day, instead of speaking to her as a prisoner, I can speak to her as an equal once again.
Maybe that is too high a risk I cannot take. But I want to tell her she is safe, even if no one else will. Even when I can’t protect her, I want her to know that I’ve wanted to tell her how I’ve felt about her since I knew how I felt myself.
Ai hod yu in, Klark.