Fixing Nia
Silently they watch as more clans trudge by their window. They’re up to seven, by Clarke’s count. Every once in awhile, she hears Nia draw her breath like she’s about to say something, but then she breathes out again, preserving the silence. Clarke can imagine the questions running through her head, the main one being why Clarke didn’t run out to her mother immediately. Truthfully, she’s been asking herself the same thing. Some invisible force holds her back, a force that feels something like fear, but heavier.
After a few minutes, there’s a loud knock on the door and Clarke nearly jumps out of her skin. Nia opens the door, and a little ragamuffin, no older than ten, wordlessly shuffles in with trays of food. She drops them on the rickety dining table in the corner of the living room, and the clatter permanently dispels the silence.
“We’re not dining with everyone else?” The girl shakes her head, afraid to look Nia in the eye. “Why not?”
The girl’s trembling becomes more obvious, and Nia moves close, lifting her chin with a single finger. She towers over the diminutive child, casting a shadow over her face. “Do you know when the Clan meeting is?”
Still that same cowardly shake of the head. Foolish girl, not realizing what she surrenders with a simple gesture.
“Don’t you think you’d better find out?” Nia’s voice is soft but carries a threat. She bares her teeth and the little wretch scurries away.
“So, the wicked witch returns.” Clarke catches Nia’s eyes. Her pupils had grown wide and dark.
“I didn’t say anything untoward.”
“It’s not what you said.” Clarke had always assumed that Nia’s hostility to visitors stemmed from a need to stop people to look at her too closely. But now, thinking back on their meager existence at the edge of civilization, she wonders if Nia was always searching for tiny ways to exercise the power she once held. Whether she missed it on some level.
Once again, a loud knocking saves them from their heavy silence, but this time, it doesn’t come from the front door. Clarke and Nia freeze; after a minute, the knocking starts again. Nia runs to her bedroom. “It’s coming from here,” she says. They wait a minute, then the knocking starts again.
“Under the bed,” Clarke says. “Help me move it.”
They both push, but the bed barely moves.
“Maybe it’s stuck.” Clarke walks around it, looking for an obstruction. A small metal bar just sticks out from under the front bed leg. She pushes it, and the bed immediately turns over, tossing her against the wall. She squeals as she clambers out from under the displaced bedspread. “What the hell was that?” She yanks bedsheets from her face, then sighs at what she sees before her.
There’s Lexa, out from nowhere, looking away in a failed attempt to refrain from laughter.
Clarke attempts to hop up, but the tangled bedsheets interfere with her plans. And so she tumbles again into the nest of cotton and fur.
“I wish I could watch this on a loop,” Nia says with a snicker. She steps toward Clarke and kneels down. “I think it’s official, Clarke. You’ve fallen for Lexa.”
To Clarke’s disgust, even Lexa can’t help smiling at this. She continues to try to extricate herself, until Nia finally takes pity and offers her a hand up.
“I’m glad you two think this is funny. At least we’ve finally found you some common ground,” Clarke says, out of breath. She looks at the gaping hole in the middle of the room. A wooden staircase spirals down into darkness. Then, to Lexa, “Couldn’t you have used the front door?”
“That would not have been as amusing,” Lexa says with a smirk. “Besides, I have confidential business with Nia.”
Oh. “I’ll leave you guys to it then.” Clarke steps toward the door, but before she can get anywhere, Nia grips Clarke by the arm, so tight that her fingers begin to tingle.
“She stays,” Nia says to Lexa, who rolls her eyes then nods her acquiescence.
Lexa closes the bedroom door. “A terrified child came up to me and started going on about the monster in cottage 13.”
“Oh please. I didn’t say anything to scare her.”
“Just your general demeanor, then.”
Nia straightens up and draws her arms in. “Is this what you snuck in here to tell me? I mean, I’m not complaining about the Clarke Griffin comedy show, but it doesn’t seem like it’s worth all the cloak-and-dagger bullshit.”
“I disagree. But you’re right, that’s not why I’m here. It’s lucky for you I bumped into her before she told someone else that you were asking to attend the Clan meeting.”
“Why on Earth would that matter? I’m not evading my duties anymore.”
“Do you remember which day you left for your walkabout?”
“Of course I do. It was right…” Nia picks up one of the fallen pillows and brushes off the dirt. “It was right before the harvest festival.”
“Just over a year.”
“I forgot...I thought I had more time.”
“There’s a chance your people will defer.”
“Who’d they send?” Nia pulls the pillow tight, crushing it in her embrace.
“Uthbert the idiot.”
“That’s two things we’ve agreed upon in one day. Maybe we’re getting soft.” Nia gazes into the the gaping hole in the center of the room. “He hates me.”
“I’m glad you haven’t saved your loveable side for me.”
“Don’t mock me, Lexa. This is serious.”
“If you two are being civil, I’m guessing it’s serious.” Clarke pries the pillow from Nia’s hands and places it on the upturned bedframe. She reaches for Nia’s hand, but Nia just stares into the ground, blinking rapidly. “What’s going on,” she asks gently.
“I’ve been gone more than a year, Clarke. They can replace me.”
“Then let them. I thought that’s what you wanted.”
Nia draws a handkerchief from her pocket and wipes her hands. She attacks a spot between her thumb and forefinger, rubbing it and rubbing it until it turns red.
“If that happens, she can’t show her face again,” Lexa says. “They’ll kill her on sight.”
“But why? Won’t they be happy to have you back?”
“Don’t be naive. What idiot would dilute their power by keeping the old ruler around?” She walks off into the front room, taking a moment to stare outside before pulling the curtains close.
Clarke, chastened, doesn’t try to follow, though she’s surprised that Lexa doesn’t move either. She silently counts the seconds that pass without either of them making eye contact. She loses count more than once; in her desperation to avoid worrying about her friend, her mind leads her in strange directions. She longs to break the silence, but still she holds herself in, certain it’s Lexa’s turn to put herself on the line.
“I don’t want her to suffer, you know,” Lexa says at last.
“Congratulations on being a basic human.”
“I’m not looking for your approval.”
“That’s good, ‘cause you’re not getting it.”
Lexa moves in front of Clarke, so close that Clarke can smell the burnt edges of the ash smeared on Lexa’s face. So close that she can’t turn away, even if she tries.
“I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this.”
Clarke tries to look away, but everything in her line of sight is Lexa, unmistakably Lexa. From the warpaint to the ripped black tights, it’s her. She wants to claw her eyes out, but at the same time, she doesn’t want to look away.
“And what exactly do you mean by...this.”
Lexa’s eyes grow misty and she turns away. “Nia’s situation. Obviously.”
With a slow and tentative nod, Clarke suppresses an overwhelming urge to challenge Lexa, to goad her into admitting what she’s really here to fix. “Why are you helping her, Lexa? After what she did?”
“You know why. Please don’t make me say it.”
And she does know, all too well. This is the bargain they’ve struck in silence; Lexa helps Nia and maybe, just maybe, Clarke can look Lexa in the eye without hating herself. “You didn’t tell me my mother was coming here.”
“I didn’t know. Your people send someone different to every meeting. They lack leadership.” Lexa leaves the statement hanging in the air, but Clarke doesn’t reward her with a reaction. “Besides, you haven’t shown any interest in what they’re up to.”
“Well yes, but...”
Lexa looks at Clarke in amusement. “But what?”
Before they can discuss this latest development any further, Nia stomps back in. “I want to face the council.”
“That’s an incredibly stupid idea. If Uthbert gets what he wants, he’ll have you executed today. You need to hide.” Lexa points to the secret passage. “I didn’t come this way for fun.”
Nia scoffs. “Hide like a coward?”
“Let me fight this battle for you. I can win it.”
“Sorry Lexa, but I have no reason to trust that you'd actually fight for me. What's to stop you from giving me up at the first decent offer?”
Lexa huffs with impatience. “I wouldn't be here if that was my intent.”
“I still have my pride,” Nia replies, softly. “I can't just surrender my fate to someone who has every incentive to betray me.”
“You can’t go in there, Nia. I won’t let you.” Clarke balls her hands into fists, trying not to panic.
“Then what am I supposed to do, Clarke?”
“I’ll go. I’ll make sure Lexa sees this through.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“You’ll be seen by everyone, Clarke! You’ll undermine your own people.”
“I have an idea.” Lexa taps her lips with a finger, processing. She turns to Clarke with a half-smile. “You’re not gonna like it.”
And that’s how Clarke ends up at the most important political gathering in her lifetime disguised as Lexa’s handmaiden.