Just Surviving (#Clexa)

We Meet Again

Whispers, and a number of loud and unfamiliar voices. My captor has been leading me through throngs of people – that much I know. Every step I take, the more fear I feel bubbling up inside me. Is this the palace of the Ice Nation? Am I about to meet the queen who wants my head?

Bellamy was left behind, my one last chance of escape. Now I'm a goner. After everything I've been through, I can't believe this is how I'm going to die. I'd hoped for the chance to fight back.

My captor continues prodding me in the back, making me stumble forward. The clinking of armour on either side of me indicates that I'm well within the walls of whatever place this is. I've entered a kingdom of sorts. Through the tiny holes in the sack over my head, I can see shadows and light but not much else. There's no way to tell where I am exactly or who's around me.

Doors creak ahead of us and I'm shoved right past them into a large room filled with more muttering people. All of a sudden, my captor yanks me to a stop and I gasp. It's brighter in here and smells of flowers and spices. Behind me, I hear him announce in his language, 'Wanheda, as promised.'

His heavy hand on my shoulder forces me to my knees, making me grimace at the pain. His other hand rips off the hood with a flourish, and I'm left blinking and gasping in the bright light, aware of a number of people watching me. As my vision clears and I lift my head, the most intense mixture of fury and relief washes over me.

Ahead of me, above a set of red-carpeted steps, is a throne. And its habitant, face hidden for now, is all too familiar. She stands instantly, her body blocking out the sunlight, and I stare wide-eyed at the face of the Commander who ruined my life.

'Hello, Clarke,' she says, her voice just as smooth and cold as I remember it.

I can do nothing but stare in shock, unable to control the sea of anger already rising inside of me.

Lexa strides down the steps towards me, seeming more real the closer she gets. When she's close enough to examine my blood-stained face, a spasm of anger crosses over her features. 'The deal was for you to bring her to me unharmed,' she snaps, glancing up at my captor.

'She didn't come easy,' he replies, unapologetic. He's acting different now, though. Lexa may be much younger and smaller than him but her power is undeniable; he knows exactly where he stands.

Her green eyes fix coldly on my face, examining my seething expression. 'I'd expect not,' she mutters.

I glare at her with all the anger I can fathom, hoping she can see it. Hoping it makes her angry – or even better, hurts her.

My captor nods at the Commander. 'I've done my part. Now do yours. Lift my banishment.'

Lexa's expression doesn't change. 'I'm told your mother's army marches on Polis.'

'That has nothing to do with me.' His voice changes. 'Honour our deal.'

'I'll honour our deal when your queen honours our coalition,' she returns taciturnly. She raises her voice: 'Lock Prince Roan of Azgeda away!'

'Yes, Heda,' her guards mumble.

As he's seized from behind me, I turn to stare in surprise. He's the Ice Queen's son? What was he banished for? And what good would making a deal with Lexa have done for him? I catch sight of his shocked, angry expression as he's carried backwards out of the room, wondering if that's what I'd looked like when Lexa betrayed me. Just the thought makes me even angrier.

The man in motheaten grey robes beside the Commander leans forwards slightly. 'What of Wanheda?'

'Leave us,' she says.