Chapter 70

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Clarke was drawing in her notebook when Lexa entered.

She didn't seem to notice her—or at least, was too engrossed in her own drawings—until Lexa cleared her throat. ''We need to go to Polis by the end of the year, Clarke, to free them. Now--now would be a good time to begin our... plans, in evacuating them.''

She was not eager for her reaction. Clarke seemed surprised for a moment before that had morphed into something else. She placed down the notebook on the counter, as she moved away from it. Began to pace around the abode. ''We're not saving them!'' Clarke said, yelling in exasperation as she gazed at Lexa as if to look for some form of understanding to pass her features. ''None of them deserve to be saved.''

''We don't get too be judge, jury, or executioner, Clarke,'' Lexa shot back. ''We don't decide who gets saved—or not.'' But it was when she met Clarke's eyes, saw the mix of emotions in it that ravaged her face, that she realised; it wasn't just about that.

''But it's not about that at all, is it?'' Lexa said in disbelief, as she gazed at Clarke. As if hoping that it wasn't true. ''Their deserving of being saved or not is not just the reason why you don't wish to open the bunker.''

And with this, Clarke's gaze flickered away; and that had confirmed Lexa's suspicions. Her eyes blinking in disbelief; her mouth nearly open in a gape, she said: ''You want a life without the chaos.''

''And can you blame me for that?'' Clarke snapped back. ''Now that Octavia's the Commander of the Underground—what do you think's gonna happen when we open that bunker? A life of prosperity and peace? A place to live with you and Madi and Luna while being revered as their saviours? No, Lexa, there's going to be war because of our blood, because of that chip in your neck.'' There was a breath; a torn look at her, as Lexa breathed in a long breath. Her voice was desperate, pleading. ''God, Lexa, I thought you would've been the one who understood that the most—after they had shot you in the spine, cast out by your very own people!''

"Look yourself in the mirror, Clarke!'' Lexa yelled back, which had startled Clarke enough out of her haze. "You're willing to kill 1,200 people — for a simple life in an abode!''

Clarke's eyes flittered away. And then she cleared her throat, and sighed, ever so softly. And when she looked back at Lexa; they were soft, a creased hue brown.

Finally, she said, a hitch in her voice: ''You're right.'' A look away. ''I am. And I'm--I'm willing to do that if it means a life here.''

''Spirits, Clarke,'' Lexa said in disbelief. ''How—how could your morals have changed so quickly?''

''Because I have a life now!'' Clarke snapped back. ''I have a life! With you and Madi and—and Luna too! I have an actual life that I care about, that isn't about saving everyone or being a leader of your people--because--because you have to be!'' There was a breath, as she gazed at Lexa in the eyes; and she hadn't seen her so unstable (so unhinged) till now. ''And I'm not sacrificing that for people I don't care about,'' she spat. And then, suddenly, she had seemed to quieten down. Softness in her voice, wistfulness in her gaze, she said: ''Don't you know best?''

Lexa pushed back a sigh. Of course. Of course Clarke had to remind her of the words she had said when she was on the verge of suicide. Of the words that she had held so close to her heart; despite it being venom. Of the bitter words that had comforted her in the nights where she woke up drenched in sweat for she was burning in hellfire. Of the words she had spat out in her hatred to the world; of the words she had yelled out to Clarke herself. How have the roles reversed now.

''I do,'' she said finally, and that had seemed to surprise Clarke, for she was jolted out of her spiralling reverie. And looking at her in the eyes, just so she could see, not feel, the sincerity in her eyes: ''I do know best,'' she said. ''And I know then I was wrong.''

''How is wishing for your own life wrong?'' Clarke said, exasperated. ''How is wishing for a life that didn't just mean survival, for a life where we don't have to be leaders—wrong?''

''It isn't,'' Lexa said, softly. ''But sacrificing 1200 lives for your own—is.''

There was a moment of silence. Finally, a slow sigh came from Clarke. And when she met her eyes again—it wasn't of regret, or of wistfulness, or of anger. From her eyes shimmered sadness; but a small, sad chuckle graced her lips.

No words were exchanged; no more words were sounded; nothing more was said. But they had met one another's eyes and their conversation ended with a gaze into each other's eyes; into one another's hearts.

...

Madi did not like arguing.

Or more specifically, she did not like Clarke and Lexa arguing. And she doubly did not like arguing that happened between Clarke, Lexa, and Luna.

Though she didn't know what they were arguing about, she knew that they were arguing about... something. Tensions were high, everyone was nervous for some reason, like there was a big looming event that was coming which none of them wanted to talk about.

Clarke had stopped bringing her to Polis recently. At first, she'd missed like a few weeks, and though that was fine, more recently she had skipped through an entire month without bringing her anywhere near the truck. And though that was okay, Madi was getting a bit bored of staring at a huge trebuchet and not being able to launch it or whatever.

Maybe Clarke was busy or something, but she certainly wasn't rushing anything either. Because Spirits, Madi had walked on Clarke and Lexa in the forests for the fifth time in this month, and they were only three days in!

But the past two days had gone one without kissing, and though Madi appreciated that a lot, it was getting a bit unusual. It might be because of the arguing, and it probably was because of that, but it wasn't just them that had gone on a bit weird.

Luna had felt different too. Sure she didn't seem any different around Madi, but Madi saw that whenever she saw Clarke or Lexa, she'd stiffen. At first, she brushed it off as Luna being Luna, but soon, as it became more frequent and a lot more obvious, Madi got concerned.

Was it because of the trap? Did it get brought up again? Did Clarke and Lexa say something about Luna that she didn't like? Did Luna say weird things to Clarke and Lexa that they didn't like?

Madi's mind wracked for ideas to sort it out.

She decided that another gift would suffice. Although they seemed very pleased with the trebuchet, Madi always felt like that it wasn't enough, and that they didn't like it as much as they should. But she didn't have enough resources for another trebuchet, and her gift was a gift to Luna so Luna could gift it to Lexa and then maybe Lexa could give it to Clarke so it'd mend all the relationships, so—

Her gaze landed on the forests, and an idea sprung to her head.

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