The Wanheda's Out of the Bag

[Clarke Griffin]

Y

You wanted the 

Commander of Death?

YOU GOT HER 

The burlap sack on her head was as itchy as it was stifling. Clarke was encased in the fog of her own breath as unkind hands moved her forward. Maybe, if she was lucky, she'd die from inhaling too much of her own carbon dioxide. There wasn't much to be seen through the sack. Sometimes she could see movements, especially when the light cast sharp shadows around her, but for the most part she was walking blind. She kept her head up tall, refusing to let her enemies see her looking as defeated as she felt, even if she did stumble every so often because these guards sucked at guiding.

This wasn't the first time she'd done this since landing on the ground. Being knocked out and kidnapped had become something of a regular occurrence. Anya had kidnapped her and Finn once, dragging them back to their village with a similar lack of sight, with the intention of having Clarke save a child. The Mountain Men had kidnapped her too, and the majority of her friends, under the guise that they were "helping" the hundred. But this time she wasn't helping anybody or even being helped. This time the Ice Queen had her, and she was going to die, because the woman wanted Clarke's "supernatural powers" or some nonsense.

She was pulled to a sudden stop, and the noise in front of her gave the impression that doors were being opened. Not that Clarke could hear particularly well in sackland. After that momentary pause she was shoved forward again. It was brighter in here, and the shifting shapes that spilled shadows across her burlap gave Clarke the impression that there were a lot of people in here. As though the hushed intonations around her didn't. She balked to a sudden stop trying to keep the cold terror from making her limbs useless.

The bag was pulled off her head in a sudden movement that scraped across her jawbones. Clarke blinked blearily in the light, accustomed to the darkness of her sack, and tried to force her eyes to adjust as her gaze darted around the room. She was looking for exits, but they all seemed dismally guarded. Someone said her name. That was when her sharp eyes moved towards the focal point of the room.

Even silhouetted as she was against the brilliance of the sun, like a haloed angel, there was no mistaking the Commander. Clarke's eyes widened and she was stunned to a silence more resolute than the gag in her mouth could even hope to accomplish.

Where was the Queen of Azgeda?

And what was Lexa doing here?

Lexa

[Lexa]

War is brewing, Clarke

Rarely did the Commander allow herself to feel so agitated among an audience, but Clarke had a way of undoing the serenity of her soul and it was worse in the uncertainty of her arrival. She could see that some of it was slipping from the glances cast her way, but Lexa ignored them as she paced in her throne room slowly, and waited for someone to bring her news of any development. There was more at stake than just her personal feelings. Azgeda gaining Wanheda's power would further destabilize her own, and subsequently the stability of the coalition. As she looked out from her tower, she could see war on the horizon.

A messenger-spy told her that the bounty hunter was in Polis, and was seen coming toward the tower. Lexa thanked the informant discretely and turned from her precarious window toward the door. As though having foreseen the arrival as the all-knowing Heda, the doors burst open loudly. The bounty hunter, and the guards, arrived with what looked more a hostage than a rescue in their charge. The disappointment pinched her brow and a touch of anger alighted her green eyes, but she did not dwell on it long.

They forced Wanheda to her knees to bow in front of Lexa. It was too soon, and too unwilling, for that to give the Heda any satisfaction. The bounty hunter pulled the stifling sack to reveal a beautiful blonde head still intact on the shoulders of the wonderful woman who still had hold of her heart. The Ice Queen had not taken this one. The relief to see Clarke alive was enough to help her keep composure. “Hello Clarke,” she greeted as she stepped in to close some of the gap.

Half blind, Clarke's eyes were darting about for answers while Lexa's scanned over the cuts on her face. The anger grew in the pit of her stomach and she addressed the bounty hunter for an explanation. Apparantly, Clarke didn't make it easy. Lexa could imagine. The matter was quickly dealt with the moment Lexa raised her tone and gave the order to remove him from her sight. Now, she could focus on Clarke.

There was an order for everyone but the two guards flanking Wanheda to leave. Titus was reluctant to go, but would not dare disobey. “Sis em au na gyon op,” she ordered the guards who helped raise Clarke to her feet. The retrieval may not have been up to her specifications, but it was still a good feeling to see her again. It softened her tone and expression. Her hand reached out toward Clarke's face.

“I'm sorry it had to be this way,” she said, looking from the gag to Clarke's blue eyes, and her fingers curled beneath the white cloth pressing into her cheek. Her tone was soft, like a whisper, and her green eyes remained fixed on hers. Despite the apology, there was a resolve in them as she explained herself—truly believing that it was all necessary. “It's to ensure Wanheda didn't fall into the hands of the Ice Queen.”

“War is brewing, Clarke,” Lexa said in a foreboding whisper. Then, after a tense pause, the Commander admitted to something only one person has ever heard. “I need you.”

WORDS: 542 || TAGGED: Clarke Griffin

Sorry for the prose~

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[Clarke Griffin]

You wanted the 

Commander of Death?

YOU GOT HER 

Clarke's light eyes narrowed with a determined intensity as soon as she had the time to figure out what was going on. Lexa's chat with the bounty hunter had made some things obvious, and the blonde's furrowed brows only relaxed slightly as her first captor was taken away like Clarke herself had been. Karma, they said, was a bitch. But it wasn't like she had any time to gloat about it, even if she could through the gag.

The room cleared after that, everyone scurrying to follow Lexa's orders, and Clarke watched as she was left between Tweedle Dee and Dumber before the Commander herself. Alone. And yet still annoyingly not. Another command, half understood by the spacer, and she was moving. The girl tensed as she was lifted back to her feet, the intensity never leaving her light eyes, even as her facial expression flattened into a mask that gave away nothing of what her heart felt seeing Lexa again.

She straightened between the guards, pulling whatever shreds of dignity she had left to her, and met the Commander's gaze. Clarke didn't move, didn't flinch, as Lexa moved closer. The girl from space didn't care much for apologies. It was too little, too late, but there was no shift on her face masked behind the gag. Even when the once-white cloth was almost tenderly pulled down so she could speak.

Lexa needed her?

Clarke held Lexa's stare for a steady moment, and then spat right at her face.

Lexa

[Lexa]

War is brewing, Clarke

Lexa flinched when the spit hit her face. All her reflexes were trying to kick in with retaliation, but she had command of herself and forced herself to calm. The same was expected of the guards, who's grips were visibly tightening on Clarke and were poised to strike out for the disrespect. Lexa wiped her face with the back of her hand and glared not at Clarke, but the guards to behave. "Take her to her chamber," she said, in English so that Clarke could understand.

She watched as Clarke was taken out with nerves on edge. It was difficult knowing how much Clarke seemed to despise her, and she looked somewhat lost in the face of that anger. Her heart beat in her chest uncomfortably, and only once the doors were closed did she allow herself the chance to draw in a shaky breath. Lexa returned to her throne, looking toward the closed doors with concern. She tried to believe that these words and behaviour were the result of a difficult journey, and that Clarke would see reason with a few days rest.

---

The chamber was not a prison, and it wasn't guarded like one. Guards didn't stand outside her door, they patrolled the halls. If Clarke chose to exit, there was always someone to see and escort her. Generous helpings of food and drink were provided for her. She was an honoured guest, and refugee, but she was too precious to allow complete reign. Lexa was willing to change that, as long as Clarke was willing to comply. The Commander approached the door and knocked, and stood patiently for a moment to see that she would answer.

She remembered herself, and her cause, and decided that it was warning enough. Lexa opened the door to reveal herself, stepping in and shutting it before her. She didn't move much beyond it, and her gaze landed on Clarke. She took in the state of her, and then said, "I trust you've been provided for?" she asked, vaguely inquiring if there was anything else Clarke could like. Then, diving into business. "Are you ready to discuss the situation?"

WORDS: 282 || TAGGED: Clarke Griffin

It's been two or three days maybe if that's fine with you

template by Margie @ Adoxography v2

[Clarke Griffin]

Y

You wanted the 

Commander of Death?

YOU GOT HER 

Clarke was in the middle of debating whether she could find a way to climb down the face of the tower when the knock came at the door. The girl pointedly ignored it, leaning dangerously over the railing, until whoever it was gave up waiting and came in anyway. The blonde didn't move from her spot on the balcony, but she did straighten so that she could turn and glare at the intruder. When her pale eyes caught Lexa they narrowed in dislike.

She couldn't say much about being provided for. The fact that they were giving her food, water, and luxuries she hadn't had since the last time she was in Arkadia didn't negate that they were keeping her prisoner. Clarke didn't care if it wasn't like solitary back in Lockup on the Ark. This was a gilded prison, just like Mt. Weather had been, and the Griffin girl was the sort to make it as difficult as possible on anyone she perceived as a jailer. Her upper lip twitched back in something of a sneer before flattening into an unimpressed line again.

"Discuss the situation?" Clarke echoed in a way that made it pretty clear the time she'd been allotted to "rest" after being dragged kicking and screaming from the throne room after spitting in Lexa's face hadn't changed the girl's disposition. She'd been so angry then. Angry to the point she'd lost control. She hadn't lost any of that anger, though, and the tension of her thinly concealed rage pulled at the corners of her eyes like wrinkles.

"No," the blonde decided harshly with a snap. "There's nothing to discuss. You want the power of Wanheda? Take it. or Let. Me. Go." she said, enunciating each word as if the Grounder in front of her wasn't smart enough to understand it otherwise. I don't want to talk to you, was evident in the way she sharply turned her body away from Lexa to regard the escape route she'd probably never manage.

Lexa

[Lexa]

War is brewing, Clarke

Lexa may have been more concerned about the way Clarke leaned from the open window if she didn't have faith that Clarke would realize it was impossible to escape from there. The stone was high enough that it would require some ridiculous amount of leaning to fall over. So, she would allow Clarke to entertain the idea of that escape route like one would entertain the idea of growing wings and flying. There was too much respect for her intelligence to point out that futility.

It was, however, disappointing to see that Clarke hadn't budged in her willingness to discuss very pressing matters. The disappointment didn't sting as much as the heartache, being so disliked by someone she loved, but that wasn't as important. "Your power is nothing compared to your life," Lexa said, from both a political and personal perspective. She had no intention of killing Clarke. "Azgeda does not feel the same, and will pose problems for both our people. There is much to discuss," the Commander insisted.

Then, softer, she said, "I can see you're not ready." She turned toward the door, facing away as she opened it. "I'll give you as much time as I can, but an army marches this way." That was the only warning she felt needed to be given, because while she wanted to respect Clarke's obvious desire not to see her, the world they lived in needed to be addressed. Now that Clarke was Wanheda, there was no falling into the shadows of anonymity. The Commander left the room so that Clarke may enjoy her 'gilded prison' in peace.

Or, that was the plan.

The Commander's gait was fast, her body language agitated while her expression furious. She walked down candled hallways to a door guarded by two warriors. They opened the door for her as she stepped into the room where more guards were holding down the person they had caught escaping.

Lexa came to a stop at some distance, regarding her with a stern brow for a moment before her sharp order came for them to release the girl and leave. Lexa didn't take her eyes off her once as the others exited the room. This time, Lexa wasn't going to leave that easy. Such a foolish act demanded a confrontation. The initial anger at the idea of Clarke leaving the tower was waning, but subtle frustration still lingered in her gaze.

WORDS: 282 || TAGGED: Clarke Griffin

and the deviations begin~

template by Margie @ Adoxography v2

[Clarke Griffin]

Y

You wanted the 

Commander of Death?

YOU GOT HER !

Perhaps if Clarke wasn't so busy pretending to ignore Lexa she might have been a little bit more concerned about the approaching army. Her people had the safety of Mt. Weather, and it's loaded missile bay, to retreat to if Azgeda was brash enough to take on the people who had fallen from the sky and destroyed the Mountain Men. What she had decided, impulsively, as a lesser threat ate away at her conscious though once Lexa was no longer there to fuss at. The longer Clarke stayed stuck in this tower, like a grumpy fairy tale princess, the less time her people had to prepare for war once she managed to escape.

It started out with more frequent trips outside her room. The guards were always quick to notice her, and to try to steer her back to her enclosure, but she had started simply dodging around them and continuing on her merry way until confronted. No one had any doubt that Clarke was trying to find an exit. Especially once she managed to find herself in a stairwell with a particularly grumpy Titus. She hadn't made it down the stairs that time, she'd been corralled back in her room, but now she had a destination in mind. All she had to do was wait for the right moment to make her mistake...I mean escape.

Which, apparently, was not the middle of the night.

Instead of going to sleep like a good little Wanheda Clarke decided to sneak out. The halls were less crowded when everyone had gone for the day, and the unruly blonde decided that the reason it seemed she had a guard posted by her door each night was because there weren't as many roaming the halls to watch out for wandering spacers. The guard had to be dealt with. She was done killing, though, unless it was absolutely necessary so she had tried very hard not to harm the man with the piece of bedpost she was carrying with her as a bludgeon. Unfortunately, he still had to be knocked out. She hauled the unconscious body back into her room as far as she could manage, which turned out to be barely inside the doorframe, before she closed it as much as she could and tiptoed with great haste towards the stairwell.

That was where they caught her, nearing the lower floors, as she was bounding her way down the ancient steps. She'd heard them above her first, and she'd picked up the pace, flying three steps at a time, before more came from the opposite end. The girl had taken the first door, ducking into the hallway, but she hadn't made it more than a few feet when what felt like an entire football team had tackled her to the ground.

Clarke fought viciously but she was no match for a dozen trained warriors...or even one of them, really. She was hauled back up the stairs like a particularly grumpy sack of potatoes and restrained in her prison until the Commander could arrive to deal with her. Lexa's arrival renewed the Griffin girl's struggling until the Commander gave the order to free her. Clarke was released, still huffing and puffing with rage and indignity, as the guards left the room leaving the two women alone.

"You can't keep me here!" Clarke decreed venomously, despite all the evidence to the contrary she'd gathered since her arrival. "If Azgeda really is coming," the delinquent said distrustfully. Lexa, after all, had proven beyond a shadow of a doubt Clarke could not trust her, "then Arkadia needs to know. I have to get back to my people."

Lexa

[Lexa]

War is brewing, Clarke

"And you are going to be the messenger to tell them?" Lexa said like it was the dumbest idea she's ever heard. The Commander advanced forward with body language to match the rise of her tone. "Has your guilt over Mount Weather robbed you of your sense and your will to live?" The delivery was sharp, and Lexa kept her green eyes fixed on Clarke throughout, reading her. "You have left the protection of your people. You would escape tonight to leave mine." Lexa inhaled deeply and turned to the side for a second to take reign on her emotions.

"Your people will come here," she said, turning back toward Clarke. She kept her gaze serious, but she wasn't yelling anymore. "They are in an alliance with Trigedakru, and have been open to negotiation." Unlike you, being the obvious unsaid statement.

WORDS: 282 || TAGGED: Clarke Griffin

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[Clarke Griffin]

Y

You wanted the 

Commander of Death?

YOU GOT HER !

Was she going to be the messenger to tell them? Damn straight!

"Yes," Clarke replied matter-of-factly, gritting her teeth, determined to prove to Lexa not only was it a great idea but it was one she could actually manage. Probably, preferably, without the next mass killing of three hundred nearby individuals. The determination wavered at the mention of Mt. Weather. Clarke's lips thinned into a line as Lexa pointed out how suicidal her recent decisions had been. She knew, or at least she thought she did, but she didn't like it being pointed out. Lexa had no right to lecture her.

"Protection!?" Clarke echoed as Lexa turned to the side, not caring that the other girl needed a moment to collect herself, and taking advantage of those green eyes no longer being trained on her. "You kidnapped me, I can't leave, and I'm supposed to just be okay with it? Because it's "in my best interest?"" the sass came on the offensive armed with finger quotes tightening into fists like a little boxer. "Don't pretend you care now, Lexa. You left me on Mount Weather to die with the rest of my people."

When Lexa turned back around Clarke paid less attention to her expression than her words. Her people would come here? All of them? The blonde's eyes widened slightly as she tried to consider the logistics behind this, and then remembered she couldn't trust Lexa. "When will they be here?" she demanded to know.

Lexa

[Lexa]

War is brewing, Clarke

Lexa would not allow herself to be riled up again. Clarke could be angry enough for the both of them. So, she endeavoured to make her case without rising to the same level of agitation as when she learned of the escape. The truth was bitter enough."Your leaders will come to discuss the Mountain they've been scavenging," Lexa began, which threw out the notion that all of Arkadia would be hosted in Polis. "I would expect them no later than two weeks since your arrival, but I intend to send a messenger to request them sooner. You weren't willing to discuss, so that was on hold," she said, and finished that part. It was time to tear into Clarke's greivances that had made her so unwilling thus far.

"For the same reason I broke our alliance, I have brought you here by force and keep you--my people." The kidnapping, the forced arrangements, were not right. It wasn't something Lexa wanted, but neither was betraying Clarke to the Mountain, and neither was staying silent when they could have evacuated Tondc. Keeping Clarke in the Tower against her will was nothing compared to what deaths spared the Skaikru at the Mountain. Yet, they were the sort of decisions a leader makes when considering greater causes. "We both made decisions that night that have led to consequences we must now face, 'Wanheda'."

Lexa stepped in, eyes locked. "If keeping you here so that your death doesn't empower my enemy, destabilize my coalition, and lead to war, then I will have to make that decision."

WORDS: 282 || TAGGED: Clarke Griffin

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[Clarke Griffin]

Y

You wanted the 

Commander of Death?

YOU GOT HER !

Clarke flinched at the word scavenging even if it was true. It flickered across her scowl as Lexa informed her that she would have sent for Clarke's mother, the chancellor, but hadn't because the blonde had been pouting about being captured in the first place. "Send for them," the girl said flatly in a tone between a demand and agreement. The thought of seeing her mother again left a warm feeling in her chest like hope. Or maybe it was sickness.

She didn't think there was anything left to discuss after that. Lexa wasn't rising to the Griffin girl's baiting, and the blonde wasn't in the mood for reasonable conversation after she'd just been chased around the tower, tackled, and dragged back up here. The girl turned, moving to skulk by the window, but paused mid-step when Lexa explained that she was keeping Clarke here for the exact same reason she'd abandoned her on Mt. Weather.

The reminder of what happened inside the mountain, that it was her fault, put the girl further towards the edge. Her shoulders tensed and her hands tightened into pale knuckled fists. Not that the girl from space could pose a threat to the leader of the Grounders. She turned right back towards the Commander with pale eyes blazing. "Go float, Lexa!" Clarke snapped. "I didn't have any choice! You didn't give me any choice."

Just like she didn't have the option to stay or leave this stupid tower.

"You've caught Wanheda, congratulations," she said derisively, emboldened by anger and a near-suicidal guilt-based impulsive, "but you can't keep me here. I'm going to find a way out of this tower. If you want to stop me you're going to have to kill me."

Lexa

[Lexa]

War is brewing, Clarke

Lexa had explained all that she could. The situation was clear to her, and there was a time it was clear to Clarke and they were on the same page when it came to difficult decisions. Breaking off an alliance always came at a cost. She always knew losing Clarke would be that cost, but she wouldn't allow the young woman to die when not only was it easily within her power to protect her, but the death would have significant consequences. "I'm sorry," she said, and though it was sincere she knew the uselessness of those words alone.

I will send for them, she promised, though she was also sorry they couldn't have come to a an agreement at least for the sake of their people. "If you can have patience, you will leave this tower soon." It was a way of asking her to stop trying to escape, when it was so reckless to do so. The reluctance of Wanheda to make any arrangements with her was a setback, but not worth risking her life if she was so keen to escape her that she'd offer up death. Lexa took no personal satisfaction in the entire debacle, and she had stressed the necessity as much as she could.

WORDS: 220 || TAGGED: Clarke Griffin

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[Clarke Griffin]

Y

You wanted the 

Commander of Death?

YOU GOT HER !

As Lexa predicted Clarke wasn't swayed by the apology. The harshness didn't leave her face until the promise to send for her people. The girl from space nodded once as a strange mixture of relief and anxiety flickered over her features. It turned to surprise the moment the woman in front of her suggested that, with a little bit of patience, she'd be allowed to leave soon.

Clarke forced her wide eyes to narrow suspiciously at the brunette in front of her. "You'll let me go back with them?" she asked in a guarded tone, straightening slightly from her subconsciously defensive position. "To Arkadia?"

She didn't really want to back there. The tormented girl wasn't ready to see the faces of the people she loved and live with the reminder of everyone she'd had to kill to keep them safe. Still, even surrounded by those demons, it was better than being locked up in a tower with a traitor.

Lexa

[Lexa]

War is brewing, Clarke

Lexa glanced impassively as Clarke voiced her doubts, and turned. "Yes, to Arkadia" she reiterated. She walked away from her, and hid her tight-lipped expression of disappointment as she took slow steps with her hands behind her back. "I need a leader, not a prisoner."

She moved toward  the door, roughly yanking it open and addressed the guards on stand-by in authoritative Trigedasleng. It was an order, which she shortly explained to Clarke as she brought her green eyes back on the young woman from the frame of the door. "You'll be escorted back to your room. They won't touch you, but you won't give them much choice if you don't go peacefully." As in, trying to escape again or some violence that an angry Clarke saw fit.

WORDS: 138 || TAGGED: Clarke Griffin

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[Clarke Griffin]

Y

You wanted the 

Commander of Death?

YOU GOT HER !

Clarke wasn't ready to be either of those things right now, but it wasn't like she had much of a choice. Clarke was still tense as she watched Lexa open the door to tell her people something in their language. She didn't know well enough to completely understand but she didn't look visibly angry anymore. Which meant she was less likely to do something stupid.

When Lexa turned back to her and informed Clarke she was going to be escorted back to the room she'd initially escaped from the blonde took a wary step backwards. She didn't want to go back there and it was written all over her face in the same easy way her anger had been. Clarke was worn down from months of running and the fearless, calculating girl from space that had so ruthlessly plotted to destroy the Mountain with Lexa was a shadow barely visible. She came to the forefront now, with the reminder that her people needed her.

"Fine," Clarke said but didn't move, her wary eyes moving from Lexa to the guards outside the door.

Lexa