Several Lifes

Can human beings change so much that even their core personality is different? If so, is that a good thing or a bad thing? How much do lived experiences matter? How much do they build our character and how much do they change who we are?

It is said that a person's resilience is different for each person and plays a significant role in how we deal with traumatic experiences. This resilience can also be learned, the only question is at what price and whether one is willing to pay it.

And isn't the human being ultimately what he has experienced through his experiences and at the same time what he has made of them?

So what is the intention behind it and what leads to the desired result?

***

"It's a massacre." Luna wrenched her mouth open, unable to believe what she was seeing. "I never thought I'd see a battlefield like this. Not after the peace negotiations ended." Hesitantly, they rode forward, trying to process what they had seen. Luna clearly showed her disgust towards the scene, while both Anya and the commander showed no facial expressions. They felt the same emotions, but they had learned to control any emotions in their training. It had been a drill and showing them freely now did not seem possible.

"It seems to me that these changes are not easy to implement for everyone. But the Azgeda have always been cross. They put power above everything." Anya, along with the guards, watched the surroundings closely, as if they feared an ambush. With a nod, she indicated to her Heda that the area seemed safe. She dismounted from her horse and tied it near a trough. The march had been exhausting and the rest and fresh water would do him good. The others present did the same to the brunette and while her warriors strategically spread out, her companions stood beside her.

"That is why you are here. You are my witnesses to what happened in TonDC," Lexa addressed them.

"We know our role, and we will report what we found to the ambassadors." Once again it was Anya, the warrior with the grim expression on her face and the Asian appearance, who answered, while Luna, leader of the Floukru, shook her head in disbelief. She tried to understand it all, to grasp it in the grand scheme of things, which considering the circumstances, was not exactly easy. "Why are they risking their position to attack a small village with no benefit?" She let her gaze wander and everything she saw seemed to further arouse her suspicions. The scenery did not look like a looting, weapons and all sorts of other precious items were lying around, huts that had obviously been searched, but nothing seemed to have been taken. So why this chaos? She could not simply imagine randomness, that would be the easiest and quickest solution, but by no means the most plausible.

Lexa nodded to the woman with the red curls, it was her form of acknowledgement as far as the others' train of thought was concerned. "This I do not know yet, but I will find out when the unknown has awakened. I hope she can give us the missing information." After that, they had struggled through the lifeless bodies, searching for answers and survivors.

The brunette sat on her bed, exhausted from the long day, as the past scene came to her mind. Seeing TonDC like that had been hard for her and still she didn't know the reason for the attack. She took a few minutes to collect herself before going back to Nyko's cabin to spend time with Clarke. The last few weeks had been exhausting and she didn't have answers to many questions. At least not yet. So it was time to think more intensively about how to proceed. Titus had asked her several times how it would go on, but she had always referred him to the state of recovery and the fact that Clarke had been unresponsive. Now this was no longer true and she knew he was right. Right that they had to act. It would not be acceptable to ignore the sins that had been committed and thus tolerate them to some extent. The commander had to show a response, some form of reaction, otherwise it would send the wrong message and make them look weak. It could jeopardize the peace and invoke war, giving them more deaths that she had just been able to prevent through protracted negotiations.

Clarke could perhaps be the answer to all their questions, but could they really confront her yet with the traumatic experiences? Lexa was conflicted, an internal struggle that exhausted, even drained her. She knew the only logical choice and yet everything in her resisted it. But she had no more time to hesitate, so she took one last deep breath and made a decision.

Head over heart.

The next day, Lexa sent for Nyko. She wanted to talk to him in private and without a certain woman with blond hair, overhearing anything.

"You sent for me?" He spoke while at the same time bowing and a smile graced his lips. She received him in the throne room, but was careful not to make his visit seem too formal, and even the guards had sent her away. She saw in him a friend whose opinion she placed much value on, even regardless of his position.

"I wanted to inquire how Clarke was doing?" It was clear to the healer that there must be far more behind this question, and not only because the blonde would have been available to her at any time. But the commander needn't have sent for him over such a trifle, but he knew her well enough to have spoken his thoughts aloud. "I think that in a few days she will be stable enough not to be monitored all the time."

The brunette nodded. "Does that mean she can leave the infirmary?" Now it was Nyko's turn to nod. "Where do we go from here?" Lexa was aware that it wasn't like her not to get straight to the point, but everything about Clarke seemed to follow a rhythm of its own that she couldn't escape. She had to go with the beat, almost submit to it.

"As soon as her state of recovery allows, I will help her find a shelter, until then she can stay with me." Kind eyes beamed at her curiously as Lexa pondered, knowing her suggestion carried some risk. "I will offer Clarke a room in the tower. From there, she can watch the negotiations and attend what may be many of the ambassadors' counseling sessions. They will have many questions and they will pay far more attention to a witness than to my words alone. In addition, she will be better protected from possible attacks." The healer remained silent, but with difficulty he could hide his smile. He knew that it was her excuse to know Clarke was near her. Safety and the practical aspect were certainly part of it, but the more insignificant one. "I'm sure she'll appreciate the offer, but I suspect that wasn't the only reason to have me called."

Lexa nodded. "Have you told her yet?"

"Clarke's not stupid, she probably already suspects since no one comes to see her, but no, I haven't told her. I thought it might be wise for you to talk to her." He had learned to size them up through his observations and had noticed the bond that connected them. He wasn't sure if he had ever witnessed anything even similar before or would ever see again.

"I'm not sure this would be a wise move. After all, you saved her." The commander folded her arms behind her back and seemed to actually consider this as an option.

Good-naturedly, the healer looked at the brunette, who was now completely in character. He saw the difference clearly. Here in the tower she was always Heda and had nothing in common with the person he had met in his hut. Nyko had definitely noticed her efforts to make the atmosphere more relaxed, yet it was not the same and never would be. "But you enjoy their trust, and I think that's what Clarke needs at the moment," that perhaps they needed each other, he kept to himself. The order that had prevailed for so long was in a delicate balance that needed to be taken into account and he was not in a position to question it. At least not in this framework and without the necessary sensitivity.

Lexa thought about his words for a moment, but ultimately agreed with him. "Then I will bring it up tonight. In case she suffers a shock and intervention is necessary, I will stay with her in the cabin." She would not take any chances, but would insist on privacy, knowing the gravity of the conversation.

A few hours later, Lexa sought to speak with Clarke. She had gone to the cabin directly after the last trade meeting, and as agreed, Nyko stayed nearby but retreated to one of the back rooms. She walked over to the blonde, who just looked at her and then sighed, "Is THAT conversation coming up?"

"What conversation?" inquired Lexa in surprise.

"The one Nyko has been trying to avoid since I woke up a few days ago." A sad smile played around her lips.

Clarke had tried to prepare for everything, but for a certain kind of pain, there was no way to adjust. There was no forgiveness, no absolution she could give herself. The pain was too piercing and partly too guilt-ridden for that, holding her in its tight grip from which no one but herself could free her. What irony this fact had in it, what a cruel game from which no winner emerged.

The brunette carefully sat down on Clarke's bed, careful to give her the space she needed and to choose the right words. "Then I guess it will indeed be THE conversation." Green searched for blue and held that gaze for a moment. The lit candles flickered and it almost looked like they were trembling. "What of the attack do you remember?"

There was no escape, no stalling. "We were just starting to eat when all of a sudden screaming started." Memories flashed in Clarke's eyes and she contorted her face in pain. "Everyone jumped up and ran for their weapons." Pain turned to anger and a stoic expression took its place. "I learned to carry mine on my body at all times, so I jumped right into the fight. I don't know how many there were, probably 30 or 40. Our whole village doesn't even consist of that many members." The blonde shook her head as if she still couldn't realize what had happened. "They literally overran us in their superior numbers. Everything seemed coordinated, everyone seemed to have a task, as if it had been planned from a long time. We didn't stand a chance. When I realized that, I tried to get everyone to safety, but the warriors surrounded me and then... then I woke up here." She ran her hands through her hair and tried to sound composed, but all that she had seen had settled in her mind and taken over her body like an ulcer eating her from the inside out.

"Do you know who attacked you?" The brunette's voice sounded softer than it ever should, so she was glad no one was listening in on their conversation. She knew the answer long ago, she had recognized the scars as well as the colors when she had been in TonDC, but hearing it again from Clarke's mouth was something completely different. It was as if only now she could really connect what she had seen to what had happened, and therefore to the atrocities that had been committed. It made them more real than they were ever meant to be. Lexa suffered along, letting Clarke's fate get too close to her, her heart breaking with every word and every look into blue eyes that radiated so much strength.

"Azgeda. I would recognize your mark anywhere. It's burned into my memory." The hatred in her voice was only matched by the hatred in her eyes, and Lexa wasn't sure if it was only fueled by the attack on TonDC or if there was something far deeper connected to it. But she postponed that question, and the conjecture that went with it, until a later time. There was not only the relevance, but also the possible additional pain inflicted and the blonde would experience more than enough at once. The commander knew that her concern was far more than it should be. Possibly even weakening her, but she pushed that thought far away as well. "Do you also know how many survived?"

"I hope some made it to the caves in time." Clarke's hopeful gaze met Lexa's sad one, and the blonde knew the answer she didn't want to know, but there was no escape. The truth would always catch up with her, would always exist. "As it stands now, you are the only survivor." No one had asked for asylum in the time since Clarke had been with them, no sign of life, and that's probably how it would stay. A peaceful village had been wiped out, and with it all the uniqueness that had made them.

Blue eyes filled with tears until they could no longer be held back. The blonde sought support and rested her head on Lexa's shoulders, who unsteadily put her arms around her and just held her. How were words supposed to fill the pain that the loss of all those people had caused?

The brunette felt her shoulder getting wetter and wetter, but she didn't care. Lexa felt all the grief and all the guilt, the cause of which she didn't know, and assigning responsibility didn't seem justified to her either. There was nothing anyone could have done with such a preponderance. There were no trained fighters in this village, which had always loved peacefully and had never been attacked before. She did not understand where the intention to do so had come from. The livelihood of the village had not changed much. They grew what they needed to live and went hunting only for certain holidays, otherwise they ate a vegetarian diet. They did not possess any riches and their claimed land would not provide any tactical advantage in a battle. It remained a mystery that nevertheless seemed to be part of the solution to the big picture.

Gradually Clarke calmed down and in the end only a few sobs remained to shake her. But it didn't matter, Lexa just held her tight in the constant attempt to give her support. To be everything she needed at that moment. "Can you think of any reason why they attacked you?" It was a cautiously asked question, risking the grief to take possession of the blonde again.

"I... I'm to blame." Blue eyes shone suspiciously, as if tears were coming out of them again, and in Lexa the desire to continue comforting her was mixed with the feeling of irritation. "What do you mean?"

"I was running from her." This time Clarke did not manage to hold back her tears. "Now it has not only cost my brother his life, but all these people as well."

Petrified, the brunette sat there, unable to believe what she was hearing. How could all those words be true? "How... how long were you trapped?" It wasn't the first question that crossed her mind, and yet the answer would rob her of sleep.

"Almost my entire life. I was only able to escape a few months ago and these people.... They took me in when no one else would. I'm forever in their debt, never able to repay it." The more the brunette heard, the less she understood. Why would Nia, of all people, want Clarke found and killed? She saw no connection between these two women who seemed to have so nothing in common. "Why does she want to kill you and why did she lock you up?"

Clarke shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. I tried to find out, but I failed."

The commander in her wanted to find out more, to get an answer and not settle for this one, but she wasn't in her head role right now and so caring for the blonde prevailed. She did not ask further but gave her time. Time to reveal herself of her own accord. No urging, no harsh words left her lips, instead they were full of understanding and the possibility of a ray of light in moments of darkness. And that was exactly what Lexa wanted to be for her. And it was also what the blonde saw in her. It was a realization that astonished and frightened both women in equal measure. Still, it was this revelation that led the blonde to speak up again.

"Did they receive a fair burial?" This question tormented Clarke to the depths of her heart. She didn't want them to be denied something that was part of their existence because of her. Her belief deeply rooted in her soul. The belief that only in this way would the dead find peace, otherwise they would wander as restless souls, always in search of redemption. It would be a cruelty beyond compare.

"Victim and perpetrator were united in the fire." Green's eyes glittered slightly as Lexa pressed her lips together and tilted her head slightly to the side.

Clarke swallowed deeply. "It's small comfort, but more than I could perhaps hope for."

"I wish there was something I could say to lessen your grief." Seeing the blonde like this caused her a physical pain she didn't know and almost couldn't stand.

"I don't know if that's possible. Neither with a single word nor with thousands. It remains a loss that I have to process." The blonde now spoke openly about her feelings, openly that it preoccupied her, even galled her. It was weakness lived and shown. When had Lexa ever seen anything like that? When had she ever been allowed to show it? Maybe before her time as Commander, maybe she had cried at times then, but it had been too long ago to remember. And she felt honored to be able to share that moment with her. It was a glimpse into Clarke's soul, into all that she was, without fear of it being abused. It was blind, unconditional trust, based on a shared sense of connection and certainty that it was meant to be.

Lexa's heart swelled, warming her and filling her body. She wanted to show Clarke that she was there for her, and so she offered her a hug. It wasn't much, it didn't solve any problems, but for a moment it made the world lighter, let her share the heaviness.

Still holding each other, they fell asleep. It was neither the most restful nor the most comfortable sleep, but the most intimate moment they'd both had in ages. Maybe even ever had the chance to experience. A feeling of security surrounded them, protective like a cocoon. Warming like the first rays of the sun that drove away the cold winter and whose power made flowers bloom. Soothing like the gentle flow of the stream, the rain on the skin and the certainty that this feeling could not be taken away by anyone outside.

It could, however, be taken out of its equilibrium.

Clarke awoke blinking. She felt every bone, but forgot her pain when she saw Lexa, who had laid her head on her shoulders and whose breath she could feel on her neck. Clarke just looked at her and the sheer perfection of the brunette almost pained her. The need to just hold her, to know her with her, overpowered. How could someone like her be real? And she wondered since their first meeting how someone could be so selfless. How was such a thing possible? They hadn't known each other before, had never met before, and yet she had done all this for them without asking for anything in return. It was a gift she hoped to be able to return someday. Beyond that, she felt this deep sense of connection. She wasn't imagining it, she was sure of that. Where she got this certainty from, however, she could not explain. It was simply there and she accepted it for what it was. Some things could not be explained. Maybe it was one of those things that one should simply enjoy without worrying about HOW. And so she held Lexa in her arms, absorbed her scent, perceived her body pressed against her own and tried to memorize every detail.

At some point, the brunette's breathing became more uneasy and she knew Lexa was about to wake up. Only a few seconds later, Clarke was looked at blinking, smirking and wishing the brunette a good morning.

Lexa stretched and yawned. "Good morning." Her voice sounded even sleepier than it looked, and her long hair stood out slightly. But she had never looked more beautiful in the blonde's eyes, and so the smile they gave each other made the room shine with new light. But like everything beautiful in life, this was short-lived, for one of Nyko's apprentices burst into the hut and disrupted the moment. He hurriedly ran past them, presumably to get something, but then stopped abruptly, turned around, and paled. "Heda, forgive me. I didn't see you." A deep bow followed. Lexa, now quite the commander she was, merely nodded and he disappeared. In return she felt Clarke's gaze on her, which she tried to ignore until it turned into a burning.

"You... You're the commander?" Clarke knew the decorum that concerned her leader and knew that she had violated nearly every one. She deserved to be punished for that disrespect. Even if she hadn't known better, she should have.

"I... yes I am." There was no way to deny or even deny this fact any longer. Lexa was who she was, even if she had enjoyed those brief moments by being more than just the Commander of the 12 Clans. We cannot escape or turn our backs on our destiny, Titus had told her long ago, as she struggled with and questioned her fate. Who was she to not only unite, but even lead 12 clans? Sometimes we have to believe in being more to live up to the belief. What would her mentor think of this situation? He would look at her punitively and express his disapproval that she denied an important part of herself by concealing the truth. A fact does not change just because one does not speak it. She was foolish even to have tried. But could she really blame herself for that?