The Commander and The Girl

Chapter 35

CLARKE POV
I stay in my room, alone, wallowing in my own thoughts. How can Lexa be so frank. She expects me to drop their guilt, hatred, deaths like it's all one weight. No matter what anyone says, it's all mine to bear. I'm the great Wanheda, I've killed over 1,000 people, I've murdered children, and she wants me to stop blaming myself, just like that.
I grab my cloak and tuck a blade under my sleeve. Whether she likes it or not I'm going to watch them die. Just as I have watched so many others. I have to face the truth. I am a killer.
I leave my room with confidence in my steps. My tears have long left and my only want is to find Octavia. I turn the corner and see her arguing with Lincoln.

"What's this about?" I ask with a tinge of annoyance.

"Lincoln here won't let me go to the killing spree." She hisses jabbing him in the stomach.
He turns to me pleadingly.
"She shouldn't watch her brother die. Please Clarke you'd understand."

I rock my balance from foot to foot.
"No, she should watch. Those deaths are on me, the only guilt she will feel is knowing she didn't help him sooner." I say sternly. Octavia walks past Lincoln and to me.

"He's not my brother anymore Lincoln. He died that same day he killed 300 warriors." She looks like she's hiding something, but I won't push her.
She nods to me and we both walk past him to the ground below us. We're both awkwardly silent the whole way down until we see the wood being set up.
I take a step before Octavia reaches for my hand.
Her eyes waiver a moment, thinking through our decision. 
"Are you sure." She whispers reaching my eyes.

"As sure as I'll ever be." I drop her hand and take in the scene.

Octavia worms her way through the crowd and finds a spot overlooking all the assassins. One by one a warrior brings out an assassin and ties them to a tall wooden pole. I make my way up the stage and find my seat next to Lexa's for Skaikru. I watch as every face is brought out and I force myself to remember each one. Indra walks to Lexa's throne and leans to my side.

"Bellamy's not getting burned. He's being spared to keep the guilt he holds so near to him. He will hate himself for the rest of his life." She hisses awaiting my reaction.

"Why not just kill him. He deserves it." I keep my eyes trained on the men being brought in.
Even though the words I speak are what Indra feels, she stares at me oddly.
"The moon's almost out. It will start soon." She states moving back to the throne's side.
I take a shaky breathe and look to my feet. I hear chantings and look up to see Lexa parting the crowd. She walks deftly up the steps and keeps her eyes on the crowd. Once she reaches her throne she has a soft smirk.
"Let justice be served!" She cries sitting down.
One by one a torch is lit and a warrior stands by the side of an assassin. Lexa's body screams control, but her eyes betray her. She looks scared. Of what I'm not sure, but it doesn't matter to me. We're both going to watch men burn alive and only one of us will like it.
Lexa holds up her hand and drops it. One by one a torch is dropped in a pile of wood as it goes ablaze. You can hear the screams as they cry out for mercy. I want to look away as their skin chars off but I know I can't. I see Lexa turn her head slightly, staring at the tower so that she won't have to watch.
"What? Scared of men burning, dying, screaming in agony?" I hiss forcing her to look at me. She looks shocked I even made it, but soon recovers.

"Clarke, I'm sorry. It shouldn't have needed to be like this." She says trying to urge me to leave.

"No." I look back at the screaming.
"It has to be. My people made a choice, I didn't stop it, now they must pay, and I have to watch." I say stoically.
Their skin has turned raw and only half have died already, the others are forced to suffer.
"I thought you liked death." I mutter indicating Lexa.

"Clarke you know I don't, but what's done has to play through. Whether I like it or not this is our way."
I ignore her, trying to sear the memory of burning flesh into my head. This is what happens when I'm not there to lead. They all die.

"Clarke please!" She hisses.
"You are pushing yourself away from everyone. You must realize this. You blame yourself for those deaths instead of blaming them. Hell you can blame me, but not yourself. Clarke look at me."
Her voice is soft, she's trying to reach out but it fails. I look to her and feel my face breaking.
I don't speak when I leave. I don't speak when I reach my room. I only let out my breathe when I'm in my bath, and I cry. I cry until the bathwater is flooded with my tears.

I finally dry off and lay on my bed, the only covering of mine a towel. I look up at the ceiling, intricately designed to let your mind wander. I don't even care when a figure walks through the doors.

"Hey Clarke, you alright? I saw you storm off the stage earlier." Octavia throws another fur in my direction. I wrap my chest and sit up, letting an old tear fall down my face. I lean against the backboard and look at her.

"I mean they didn't kill Bellamy, what's up with that." Shes trying to sway the conversation, and it's working.

"He's going to live, with his regret and self hatred." I murmur looking through her.

"Do you know how many people I've killed." I ask quietly.
She shakes her head.

I chuckle darkly.
"I don't even know either, and that's the worst part. I've killed so many people recklessly. Yet I feel nothing for them."
Octavia comes and sits at the edge of my bed.

"Clarke you did what you had to, for our people."

"You believe that lie as well? That I've had to kill more people than we even have to protect them? I could've told Bellamy not to watch after me on the bridge, then no explosion no fire. I could've waited for Jasper to shoot Cage, then all those people wouldn't have died in Mount Weather. I could've been there for Skaikru, then Pike wouldn't have taken over and massacred 300 warriors. Every single death that has happened leads back to me, whether it was by my hand that killed them or my word. I did what I thought was the easy way out, because I'm a coward. I choose who's disposable. You told me that."
I lay back on the bed again.
"I'm not a leader Octavia, I'm a killer."
If I could cry I would be, but all my tears have already been weeped.
Octavia's face hardens.

"If you want to feel bad for yourself, go ahead. Just know that our people wouldn't be alive if it weren't for your choices. If they sucked oh well, but you're doing nothing feeling bad for yourself. I'm not going to say I'm sorry because that's a load of shit. You made those decisions on your own with no one else, so you'll live with those decisions. Whether you choose to embrace them or fall to them, I can't help you." Octavia stands up and opens my door.

"You used to actually know what being a leader was. A real leader would know that you must sacrifice those who may come in the way."
She leaves with no help and I lay there, just as bad as I was when I got in my room.